#do not respond to this telling me i’m just bitter over getting a bad grade bc i already know

[cryptidunknown]

i have GOT to work on letting things go i saw something that made me get pissed about the english assignment all over again

[warmblanketwhump]

safe enough to fall

a little university-themed thing I wrote using @sicktember prompts: comfort item, sneaky temperature check, medicine, unlikely caregiver, and lightly inspired by these prompts

the grip of the winter’s cold was their constant, unrelenting companion - but sometimes, B just wished it would be a little less faithful.

It doesn’t ease in the morning, when B wakes up coughing with a cold nose and stiff limbs. It stays as B shivers through the lukewarm shower and the hurried layering of clothes over damp, goosebumped skin. It sticks to them like cling wrap on the bus, in the lecture hall, the windy walk to their next class, makes them tense their rattling jaw, and leaves them hunched over and huddled up, desperate to conserve any scrap of heat.

This was a fact of their university existence - that after the pleasant crispness of fall, their poor, scholarship-funded body was plunged into four months of frozen hell. They didn’t like to complain - after all, they were getting a free education. But no one told them how brutal their university’s winters would be, nor that dorm heating was little more than a few puffs of warm air every hour, or that regardless of how many layers they pulled on, they’d be chilled to the bone until late March.

Their final class of the week is in a drafty science lab, and they hold back a groan. The cold's not the only source of their dread - it was the thought of spending 90 minutes with their perky, overly friendly lab partner, A.

A, whose parents were well-off, well-known benefactors of their university. A, who lived in a nice house with proper heating and had the money for a warm winter coat. A, who obliviously chattered on about anything and everything. Besides that, they were just so...happy. All the time.

The can afford to be, B thought miserably. There was no way all that sunshine could be real.

B really tried to tamp down their bitterness, but it was hard to listen to someone gush on about their amazing weekend their family spent on some tropical island when B spent the same weekend wrapped up in blankets, trying to stay warm enough to study their nomenclature notes.

Two minutes before class, A bounds into the lab like a freed golden retriever and begins their usual volley of caffeinated questions, which B responds to in short, clipped answers. Suddenly, the questions stop and A’s brows furrow.

“You look cold. Are you okay?”

B shifts on their stool and tucks their fingers into the sleeves of their worn secondhand coat, pulling it tighter with a shudder. “I am cold. It’s winter.” They cough weakly into their elbow - the nagging cough has gripped them for weeks now.

“Are you sick?”

Direct, then. That was new. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t have a fever or anything.” In truth, they had been feeling a little lower than usual the past couple of days, the chill a little deeper, the aches more pronounced, the cough a bit more painful. But in their book, that was hardly enough call themselves sick. B sniffles and A opens their mouth to comment further, but the professor calls the class to attention, and the moment is gone.

90 minutes later, they’ve got their work cut out for them - a ten-page lab report that’s going to count for nearly a quarter of their final grade. And as luck would have it, it was a partner project, which meant B got to spend more time with the equivalent of human rocket fuel.

“So...do you want to just knock this out tonight?” A's eyes dart around nervously.

B frowns - it’s almost the weekend, and they figured A would have plans with friends this evening. But B sure doesn’t have anything going on., so they don’t protest. “No… I s’pose we should get as much done as possible while it’s still fresh. Want to go to the library?”

“Ugh." A cringes. "Do we have to? That place is like a tomb.”

B huffs indignantly. “It's not that bad," they mumble in a weak defense of their favorite study spot. A shoots them a glare, and B rolls their eyes. "Do you have somewhere better? It's Friday, so most places are closing up.”

“Well, my parents decided to go on some last-minute ski trip to the Alps again, so my place is free," A says as they step out into the biting wind. "Plus, I have a ton of food and it's actually warm in there, unlike these buildings.”

The promise of decent heating and food that wasn't from the dining hall was enough for B. "Fine. Your place." The pair trudge through the bitter wind as the sun begins to set, and soon they arrive at A's parents’ home - a beautiful, winding estate just a couple minutes away from campus. B has to bite their lip to keep their jaw off the ground - in the blustering snow, this place looks straight out of a Christmas card. Another reminder of how they don’t fit in this world.

Will you stop? B chastises themselves. A having money isn't a personal attack on you. Just enjoy the free food, finish the assignment and get over it.

Despite the towering exterior, B's house was quite cozy, colored in warm neutrals and filled with soft, comfortable furniture. Just past the mudroom, they spot a big living room filled with with an enormous overstuffed couch, squashy-looking pillows, and soft throw blankets. Everything about this place screams warm. A rubs their arms, suddenly aware of how cold they are. The heat nearly makes them dizzy, and they can feel the temperature difference as it seeps into their cold skin.

"Want some cocoa?" A tosses their bag into the corner and heads for an electric kettle in the kitchen, and B follows. "It always helps me warm up." B nods. A couple minutes later, A pushes over a steaming mug with the top entirely covered in marshmallows.

B wraps their chilled fingers around the mug and takes a sip, and the warm, rich liquid feels like heaven to their cold body. "That's amazing."

A smiles. "It's the good stuff." They sip in a surprising silence for a few moments, before A sighs in resignation. "As much as I wish this was just a social call, this report isn't gonna write itself." They grab a bag of popcorn and nod their head toward the living room, and B follows dutifully. A flicks on the gas fireplace and tosses B a throw blanket, and the pair gets to work.

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

After a couple hours of studying, three instances of indignantly thrown popcorn, and a dramatic reading of the periodic table, B realized that they may have misjudged A. Deep down, under the bubbly exterior, A was a genuinely kind, sweet person. It wasn't an act - they just were human sunshine. And the longer they spent time with them, the more B realized they didn't mind their company at all.

"Alright." A drops their pencil and rubs their eyes. "If I have to balance one more equation, my brain's gonna explode. Study break time." A flips on the TV and puts the volume on low.

B leans their head back on the couch and pulls their throw blanket to their chin, trying to ward off the shivery feeling in their core. Despite the heat of the fire, the mug of hot chocolate, and the thick blanket, they just can’t seem to get warm.

Their face feels hot, but their blood feels chilled and heavy, the weight of it making them ache deep down in their bones. B wraps their arms around their knees, trying to rub away the throbbing pain and get some warmth into their skin. They glance out the picture window at the now-blowing snow. It's gonna be a miserable walk home.

"B, you're shivering." A's turning to look at them now.

B startles. "It's-It's nothing. Just a chill." The concern in A's voice triggers their flight response. "I....I should probably get back to the dorms. It’s late–" They're cut off with a hacking cough that leaves them breathless and they wince at the ache in their chest.

"B, it's snowing, and you haven't even had dinner-"

"Where's my jacket?" They push themselves up and toss the throw blanket off, instantly regretting it as the air invades their pocket of hard fought warmth. They’re trembling and dizzy and desperately freezing, but they cannot stay here. Then, the world tilts and they fall back on to the couch. For a moment, they're just laying in an icy, spinning world, trying to catch their breath, when warmth suddenly envelops them.

A's tucking the same thick grey blanket around their shivering form. As they pull away, their hand lightly brushes over B's neck, then freezes. B twists away from the gentle touch, but it’s too late. Realization floods over A's face. Caught. "You lied. You are sick."

B groans, even as their fingers weave into the chunky knit and pull the warm layer closer. "A, please. Just let me go home. I'm probably contagious. You don't want me here."

"B, you look like death warmed over. I'm not sending you out in a blizzard when you're feverish like this. I won't do it." There's a spark in their eyes and a set to A's jaw that dares B to challenge them.

B leans back, defeated. Even though they want nothing more than to run out of this room, they're too weak to stand and too cold to move. So here they'll stay.

It's okay. Someone's here. You can give in now.

No. I can't. I can't let them see me like this.

What choice do you have? You already look awful. Let them help you.

A covers them with another blanket and places a gentle hand on their back, rubbing slowly. The firelight flickers, casting light and shadow across their solemn face. “B. Tell me what you're feeling, and I'll get you what you need.”

B swallows down the rising panic, the helpless vulnerability they feel, and takes a shallow, shaky breath. “I…I guess I just feel….not right. I’m always cold...but it's...worse.” They sniffle weakly, trying to still and order their swirling thoughts. “Chills, fever, cough, sore throat, kinda stuffed up. And it just hurts everywhere.”

A nods slowly, then leaves the room. They return in a few minutes with a few small bottles, carefully scanning the labels and holding them up for B to see.

“Can you take this? Any problems with this one?” B had to take a moment and match the brand names with their usual knockoff brands, but soon they had a couple over the counter medicines picked out, along with something for their cough.

A glances at the medicine labels once more. "This one says to take with food. I've got some leftover chicken and dumpling soup I can heat up - does that sound okay?"

B nods almost imperceptibly. "Sounds wonderful." A gets up to heat the soup, and B feels the anxiety rising in their stomach when they're not in the room with them. A returns with a mug and manages to gently spoon a few sips of broth into B's mouth before B starts falling asleep, clutching the grey blanket even tighter to their shoulders.

A smiles sadly. “That blanket's my favorite whenever I'm not feeling good. It's the best thing you could have to fight off what you’ve got. Trust me.”

B curls into the soft fabric. It was as if the warm environment of the apartment and the comfort of the blanket had been a signal that it was safe to leave survival mode, rest for a moment, open the floodgates that had been holding back whatever had been ailing them for weeks.

After B takes their medicine, A’s eyes shift awkwardly around the room. “So….when you’re sick, do you like having someone with you? Or do you want to be by yourself?”

A sudden rush of emotion crashes over B. They’d so rarely had the choice. It takes all they’ve got not to throw themselves around A and beg them not to leave. “Stay, please,” they ask in a small, trembling voice. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

A smiles halfway and gently pats B’s leg. “Seeing as how I live here, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” They take their spot at the end of the couch and pull B’s legs over their own, flicking the TV to a familiar movie. B tries to keep up with the plot, but they keep falling in and out of a fitful, restless sleep, tossing, turning, unable to get comfortable enough.

When B’s about ready to cry from exhaustion, A’s there, covering them up with another blanket, bringing them a glass of water, gently stroking the damp hair off their forehead before laying a cold cloth over it. They flinch at first, but the cool dampness eases the fire of their fever, even for just a moment. The last thing B remembers before falling unconscious is a gentle hand squeezing theirs.

It could be minutes or hours later when they jolt awake from a fever dream in a cold sweat, choking and coughing. They’ve kicked off their blankets and the cloth is nowhere to be found, but the chills are back in full force. A appears in B’s blurred vision, hand held to B’s forehead. “Poor thing. Your fever’s worse,” they murmur.

B’s still gasping for breath, curled up in the fetal position, body wracked by the shakes as they try force the words through their chattering teeth. “A...It's so cold. I’m so scared.”

If B was more lucid, they’d see something in A’s eyes crack wide open at their weak, fearful cries. A pulls the trusted grey blanket from the floor and wraps it back around B, rubbing their arms to try and make them feel warmer. There's something in the tenderness of the gesture, and B’s panicked gasps turn into soft, quiet sobs. They try and cover their face with one hand, but A’s hand is there, catching their wrist and wiping the tears away with their thumb.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay. We just gotta get through tonight, alright?” A’s voice matches their usual cheery demeanor, but B can see the fear in their own eyes. They don’t know what they’re doing either.

“Why are you helping me?” B whispers in a tear-roughened voice.

A shrugs. "You're sick. You need help. Is it that so surprising?"

B's eyes flash a delirious spark. "You don't get it. I'm a broke scholarship student. I'm nothing like you. I'm not fun, or bubbly, or rich, or any of those things you are, and I don't fit in here. So why?"

B can't stop the words now, every single insecurity laid bare. "Why do you try to talk to me when I'm nothing but rude to you? Why'd you invite me here? Am I just a project to you? Why are you helping me? I'm not worth it!" The words spill out before B can stop them, and the raw hurt in A's eyes nearly rips B's heart out of their chest.

B claps their hand over their mouth, tears flooding their eyes. Now they've done it. They've laid it all out there. A's gonna kick them to the curb. And B won't blame them one bit.

But instead, A just looks at them, and pulls B into a hug. Their voice wavers only a bit as they whisper in B's ear: "You're not a project. You are completely worth being cared for. And you’re not the only one who knows what it feels like to not fit somewhere. Trust me.”

Alone. In a big, empty house. Studying on a Friday night. No plans of their own.

A, are you lonely, too?

Their words are so simple.

And yet they're everything B didn't know they needed to hear. A's got one arm around their shoulders, and one hand threaded through their sweaty, fever-damp hair, and they're cradling B so tightly it’s like they're the one who needs to be held.

B can't find the words to apologize or comfort them back. They're too tired for that. But they wrap their other arm around A and let their head rest on their shoulder. They stay like that for ages until their head begins to drop, and A shifts so they’re both laying down, B curled against A, A’s arm wrapped around their shoulders as they tuck a blanket around them both.

And finally, finally, B lets go. It's safe to fall, this time around. Because for the first time, there's someone there to catch them.

[bokutoskitten]

go greek!

18+

synopsis- after a lot of convincing eren managed to get you to come to his frat party, where will the night take you?

cw- eren jaeger x f!reader, college au, praise kink, inexperienced reader (not a virgin), alcohol (y/n nor eren get drunk), sub reader, nipple play (f receiving), sex, all characters are 18+

these are just stereotypes about certain sorority’s/frats at a college in my state! Each college is different!

you didn’t really understand how you got put in this situation. Loud cheering, the smell of cheap beer and the sight of people making out in almost every corner of the crowded house.

You belonged to a sorority on your campus, definitely not a top tier… but you were in a sorority! Everyone knew your house as sweet and cute, but were innocent, rarely left the house.

You focused mainly on your classes like your sisters, you didn’t pay attention to any of the frats. That was until you met him. Eren Jaeger. It was a simple school girl crush on a guy in your poli sci class. You would of never imagined that a guy like him would ever pay attention to you.

When Eren found out that you were in Greek life he asked “why haven’t I seen you at any parties?” He quickly understooon once you said your sororities name, chi o’s. Everyone know chi omegas dont party much to keep their “good girl” status.

Eren asked you if you wanted to come to a party on Friday that his frat was hosting, pi kappa alpha (pike), you told him that you needed to study. Your sisters always told you to never hang out with a pike, they were just rich fuckboys who would use you and throw you out the next day.

But eren couldn’t be like that- could he?

Eren had grown bored of fucking tri delta’s and kappa kappa gamma girls, all they cared about was status. But not you. No, you were different. Eren knew the reputation he held, a class A douche bag. He just hoped that you hadn’t of heard about his reputation, in fear that it would scare you away. He hated how he was In the past, he wanted to change for the better and leave his fuck boy status in the past.

That’s how you ended up here. At the pike’s frat house, alone, no eren to be seen. As you tried looking around the house you felt an arm reach around your shoulder. Your plan was to stay at home and watch a movie like you did most weekends, but something overcame you and you decided to do something out of your comfort zone.

“Why are you all alone little lady?” Asked a clearly drunk man, “I- I’m sorry, have you seen eren? I was supposed to meet him here” you nervously responded looking up at the male.

“Y/n!” You heard from across the room. It was eren, even from at a distance you could tell he was upset. There was some bickering between eren and the boy who was talking to you, jean. But eventually he grumbled some words under his breath and left.

“I’m really sorry about that. He didn’t scare you too much did he?” Asked eren guiding you to an empty sofa. “I’m okay! Thanks for inviting me, your brothers seem nice…?” Your words came out more unsure than you were planning.

Chuckling he said “yeah sorry about them… so um, can I get you a drink?” Nodding your head you replied “s-sure!” Eren came back with two red solo cups, one for you and one for him. You smelled the liquid within the cup for a second before bring it to your lips. It tasted like strawberry lemonade with a bitter vodka aftertaste.

Your face scrunched your at the bitter taste. “Don’t force yourself to drink that if you don’t like it” chucked eren as he watched you try to drink the vodka concoction. “It’s okay! It’s just a little stronger than what I’m use to!” You replied taking another sip. By now that the alcohol was flowing through your system, the taste didn’t bother you as much.

You continued to chat with eren about your major; poli sci. Which was the same as erens, you talked about favorite tv shows and your favorite places to get food near campus. You where really surprised at how much you were enjoying yourself. Frat parties had always seemed really scary, but this was the exact opposite. You were actually having fun for once, not stressed about grades and trying to keep your high gpa.

Your conversation was suddenly interrupted as girl walked up to eren. “Hey eren” she slurred, “you look really nice tonight… wanna go back to my place and have more fun” she asked. Your heart sunk. She was extremely pretty, and you recognized her. She was the president of a sorority on campus. The top sorority on campus.

Before eren could open his mouth you said “s-sorry umm excuse me” as you quickly got up from the sofa tears started to prick the corner of your eyes. Somehow you found a room that was empty, you sat down on the bed as you tried to control yourself from crying.

I knew it was a bad idea to come here… eren could never see me as more than a girl he chatted with in class…

The door surprisingly swung open causing you to become startled. “I’m sorry y/n- I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just worried, you ran off so suddenly” eren spoke as he made his way to the bed. “Shouldn’t you be with that girl right now…” you mumbled brushing some stray tears from off your cheek.

“Why would I be with her? Y/n- I want to be here with you. That’s why I’ve been talking with you this whole night, your fun to be around”

“Really…?”

“Yes really, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you feel sad”

“It’s okay… maybe we should go back downstairs, I don’t want to be in a random persons room.”

“Nah don’t worry about it this is my room”

“O- oh okay”

Eren leaned in a bit closer, “you know your really pretty, right” you felt heat rush to your face as you quickly said “oh- umm thank you!” You felt his hand cup your face as he said “is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Yes please”

When his lips finally connected with yours the sweet taste of the strawberry lemonade filled your senses. He nibbled a bit on your lower lip letting you know to open your mouth a bit more letting his tongue slip in.

A little moan escaped your mouth as erens hand made its way to waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You make the cutest sounds” he hummed as he pulled away from your mouth.

“At any moment you want to stop, just let me know, okay” he spoke in a gentle but stern tone. “O-okay” you replied. “So are you like a… virgin?” Eren asked, “what! n-no, I’ve only done it once… it’s been a while” you said shifting your face away from his as embarrassment spread through your body like a wild fire.

“Look at me cutie, that’s totally okay. Is it okay if I take this off?” He asked as his fingers lingered on your skirt. “Yes please” you breathily murmured. Now that your skirt was off you were left in your lace panties and a tank top.

Eren began lightly sucking on your neck as he made his way closer to your chest, looking at you he asked for permission to remove your tank top and bra as was well which you quickly gave him a nod of approval. His mouth made its way to your breasts as he began sucking and licking your nipples, you could already tell that by the time he reached your panties you would be drenched.

“Fuck- your going to look so pretty all marked up” he spoke as his tongue sucked on your nipple while he rolled the other one with his thumb. “Pleaseee eren” you breathily moaned as the pulsing feeling in your pussy was growing stronger.

“Please what?” He teased, “eren!” You whined giving him a pouty face.

“Come on y/n, tell me”

“Eren please touch me!”

In an instant eren swiftly removed your underwear, he threw it to some random corner of his room. Before you could complain about him throwing them so far away you were pleasantly surprised when he thrusted two of his fingers into you.

You quickly smacked your hand over your mouth to conceal your moan. “I want to hear you” he said sternly, you quickly removed your hand from your mouth not wanting to disappoint eren.

“Much better”

Even though he was just fucking you with his fingers it felt so good. “Ah!” You moaned as you felt eren move his another finger to your little bundle of nerves. “You like that?” He questioned, although he knew the obvious answer.

“Yes! Feels ‘s- so good!” You managed to speak out. “I can feel you tightening around me, are you gonna cum?” Questioned eren. “Y..yes!” You moaned loudly as your body finally gave in to all of the pleasure as you hit your release.

Eren pulled his fingers away from you, your essence dripping down his hand. “Look you made a mess” he spoke as he brought his hand to his mouth. “Mmhm you taste sweet” he said after licking his fingers clean.

“Erenn that’s embarrassing” you whined throwing your arm up to cover your face. “Don’t do that” said a stern voice as a hand grabbed your wrist and brought it down to the side of your body.

“Don’t hide from me, I want to see your face” said eren, by now you could see his cock was hard, the outline very prominent in his pants. “Please eren” you panted as you squeezed your legs together in anticipation. “You want my cock?” Chuckled eren knowing that you desperately wanted him.

“Yes eren! Please”

“Good girl”

He slipped off his sweatpants and shirt, you could see how big his cock was just from the imprint in his boxers. Your mouth was basically drooling from staring at erens flawless washboard abs.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest when you felt eren rub is flushed tip against your soaking entrance. “Erennn just put in it” you whined giving eren a pouty face. “You are just so needy” he chuckled as he teased you a bit more. You gasped when you suddenly felt eren thrust himself into you, barley giving you any time to adjust to the feeling.

“Holy shit- your so tight” he swore as he picked up his pace. “Aah! Erennn” you moaned as his hips slammed against yours. You couldn’t believe the situation you were in, you tried to remember how it even escalated to this but your body was so overwhelmed with pleasure you were having a hard time remembering.

“H-harder!” You cried tightening yourself against eren. “Fuck” a curse slipped out of eren’s mouth as you did that. “Feels ‘s- so good” you said as ecstasy flowed through your body.

“Your being such a good girl for me, taking me so well fuck- such a good job” he praised as he fucked you at a ruthless pace.

As eren looked down at you tits bouncing up and down, he felt so much different than he did with other girls. He didn’t want to fuck you then throw you out, he wanted to cuddle with you and litter you with kisses. Was he crazy…? Or was he just catching feelings…?

“Keep going eren! I-I’m so close!” You moaned as one of eren hands made its was to your clit gently massaging it. “Your doing so fucking good for me, I know you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me” he said as he felt you squeeze him even tighter than before. You felt yourself finally hit your peak. Pure bliss washed over your body as you rode out your orgasm with a high pitch moan.

“Fuck” groaned eren as he quickly pulled out squirting his cum onto your stomach. After taking a couple deep breaths he got up, leaving you alone. You knew deep down all he wanted was sex, you decided that in a minute you would get up to clean yourself off then leave the party.

“Eren..?” You said in shock seeing him come out of the attached bathroom with a small damp towel. “Yes y/n?” He questioned as he made his way over to you then began cleaning you off.

“Oh- nothing!” You responded quickly smiling at the boy in front of you. “You didn’t think I was gonna leave you here, did you?” He questioned with a smile.

“What! No-” you replied with a huff, before you could finish eren cut you off with his laugh.

“I would never leave you here alone, I hope you know that”

“Yeah, I do now….”

“Good”

Eren laid down in bed next to you grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to his warm body.

“Goodnight y/n”

“Goodnight eren”

[tennessoui]

hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?

hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger

this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.

(2k WHOOPS)

The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.

After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.

Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?

It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.

(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”

“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”

“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.

Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”

Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)

(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)

(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.

“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”

“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”

Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.

“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”

Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”

“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”

Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)

The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.

Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.

Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.

Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.

It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.

It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.

Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.

He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.

When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.

“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”

Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”

“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”

Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”

“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.

Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.

“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.

There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.

(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)

(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”

“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)

(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.

“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”

The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.

“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.

“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.

“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.

Is that too much to hope for?

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.

Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--

Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?

Oh shit.

Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.

Oh. Shit.

[bokoutoe-retired]

— #43 “i love you to the moon and back” & #44 “you’re stealing the blankets”

characters; gojo satoru, gn! reader, ft. itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nobara kugisaki

synopsis; working at jujutsu tech comes with it’s risks, but with your husband at your side you think everything will turn out just fine

total w/c; 1475

warnings; canon-typical violence, blood, major injury, hospitals, iv’s, uhhh, non-canon timeline ig? i haven’t read the manga so i apologize for any inaccuracies about how curses and jujutsu sorcery works

「a/n」 thank you to @construct-witchlyght for requesting!! i’m so sorry it took so long but i actually really had fun writing this and i feel good about it! hope you enjoy it <3

being a counselor at jujutsu tech never really meant just being a counselor. sometimes it means being a teacher and instructing a couple classes, other times it means getting called out for exorcisms. despite your job title, it’s shockingly rare you get the chance to actually, you know, be a counselor.

and this was certainly not one of those times. the grade 2 curse you, itadori, fushiguro, and kugisaki are currently dealing with is not relenting. whatsoever. it’s attacks are quick, fast, and calculated. the four of you have done a good job avoiding them so far, but you're not sure how much longer you can keep it up. both you and itadori are hustling to land your blows, slowly chipping away at the almost overwhelming defenses of the curse. nearby fushiguro’s shikigami are working in rhythm with the flying nails of kugisaki’s hammer to take out the weird army of cursed goonies the grade 2 has. they’re not powerful by any means but their numbers add up. the two first years are doing a good job of dwindling their forces

the fight drags on and on, hit after hit, and dodge after dodge, it’s tiresome but necessary. by some miracle, there’s a glimpse of the end as yuuji lands a hearty punch on one of the chins of the curses many mouths. as it makes contact it’s accompanied by a loud, resounding clap, the cursed energy packed behind the hit leaves the air of the abandoned warehouse buzzing. the powerful attack brings the curse down to its last legs, yet it’s still angry, and determined to take you all out. you glance over to check on the other pair, and see they’re exorcising the final lackey. 

‘good, they’re safe now’ you think, but you’re allowed only a mere moment of relief before your attention is directed back to itadori and the grade 2. itadori is still stumbling from the blowback of his own power as the curse lets out a booming roar and you see it gear up for an attack with the sharp claws on one of its four arms. he’s stumbling right into the claws’ path and doesn’t have nearly enough time to completely dodge. panic boils over  in your chest and you feel your body move before you think about it, out of pure instinct to protect your kids. the long arm of the curse swings down and you rush towards the pink haired first year, shoving him out from underneath the approaching claws. hot, searing pain rips down from your shoulder and through your chest. your vision immediately turns spotty but you can see itadori tumble a few feet away from the force of your push. you must’ve screamed without realizing it because immediately all three students are calling out your name and rushing to finish the curse off.

you register that somewhere near you the curse bursts into smoke and spare puffs of cursed energy. it’s finally exorcised, but you're too focused on the feeling of warm, sticky blood seeping from your wound and the bitter taste of copper in your mouth to take note of who officially finished it off. the energy from the curse tapers off into nothing but residuals and suddenly three sets of footsteps are rushing towards you.

“y/n-san!” itadori is the first to reach you, calling out and falling to his knees at your side. “why would you do that?!” his words are frantic but his actions are gentle as he moves your head to rest on his knees. you can almost see the tears welling in his eyes from, in your opinion, misplaced guilt. he looks around searching for help of the other first years. behind him nobaras foot taps incessantly against the cold stone floor. she’s hurriedly dialing someone on her cellphone, presumably ijichi and fushiguro is tearing off his jacket. he does much better job of hiding his worry, but if your eyes were a little more focused you’d be able to see the slight shake to his movements as he bundles the fabric and presses it to your wound. you little out a little grunt of pain, the coarse texture agitates it but does a good enough staunching the steady trickle of blood. despite their lack of experience, it’s not hard for them to recognize this is bad. nobara finishes her call, before pocketing her phone and joining the boys on the ground next to you. she takes the edge of her sleeve, wiping off the small bit of blood dribbling from you mouth. you weakly attempt to swat her hand off, the last thing you wanted was to worry your kids or have them fuss over you.

“‘toru would kick my ass if i had let one of you kids get hurt” your words are slightly slurred but you speak with a little chuckle, referring to your husband while trying to make light of the situation. you even reach up to pat yuujis cheek reassuringly a couple times.

“well now gojo-sensei is gonna kick my ass for letting you get hurt!” he looks like he’s about to continue but the sound of screeching car tires interrupt him.

“ijichis here, lets get her up. y/n-” you can hear megumi talking, but your consciousness is slipping and you can’t decipher exactly what he said. you feel three pairs of hands start to lift you off the ground, the blood making it a little more difficult. as you look up the dots clouding your vision get bigger and bigger, the last thing you see is the crease of nobaras brows as she yells out to someone.

when you wake up, you feel your situation before you see it. the first, and maybe most important thing you feel, is the presence of your husband cuddled into your side. you feel his hair tickling your neck, his body pressed against your uninjured side and his fingers intertwined with yours. just knowing he’s there is enough to instantly put you at ease. your eyes finish adjusting to the bright morning light streaming in from the window and satoru shifts in his sleep, unawarely tugging the thin hospital blanket from your body. 

“you’re stealing the blankets,” you whisper to him as you squeeze his hand in yours, but your voice comes out a little more strained than you had expected. even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s woken up as he lets out a little hum and adjusts himself on the small hospital bed. with the both of you it’s a tight fit, but you make it work. he’s careful not to jostle you as he sits up and gently brings you to lay on his side instead of him on yours. he’s mindful of your ivs and monitors, all while keeping your hand in his and making sure to drape the blanket back over you.

“rough night?” he asks, the hand of the arm wrapped around you comes to lightly brush over the bandages wrapped snug around your torso. the pain isn’t nearly as bad as it was before you blacked out. whatever meds they’d given you had turned the sharp stinging into a dull ache. but if you were being honest your whole body ached. a long, strenuous battle on top of a deep wound would do that to a person.

“rough night.” you confirm with a little chuckle, relaxing even further into his hold. the room is silent for a moment as he catches your eyes searching the empty room for something that’s not there. he presses a kiss to your temple, bringing your attention back to him.

“they went back to the school,” he states, already knowing that you were looking for the trio of first years, “and before you ask, they’re fine. all three made it out with nothing more than a couple scratches.”

“good, thats good,” you respond while smiling up at him. if those three were okay, any pain, wound, or hospital visit would be utterly worth it.

“i’m lucky i get to say the same for you, my love. itadori told me what you did” he lifts up his blindfold and gives you a look that resembles that of one he would give a student while scolding them. but behind it, you can see the deep amount of worry held in his bright eyes.

“i did what i had to, they're just kids” you shrug as best as yougiven your condition.

“i know, i know. very admirable of you,” he jokes a little before his tone turns serious “but please, don’t scare me like that ever again. you mean the world to me and i don’t know what i’d do without you. i love you to the moon and back, my dear y/n”

“i love you too satoru, to the moon and back”

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2

PART 1

Summary: PART 2  ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone. 

Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death

Words: 4.9K

A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif. 

It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day. 

He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.

“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.

It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.

In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.

“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.

“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”

Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.

You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.

Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.

“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”

You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you. 

There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream. 

Your brain didn’t know any better, right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.

My Dearest Draco,

          How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf. 

I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.

Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants. 

I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon. 

All my love,

Mother

He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.

As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.

He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.

But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you. 

So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.

“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.

“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”

You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”

“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.

“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.

“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips. 

You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt. 

You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.

A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.

“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”

The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face. 

Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.

“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.

You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.

“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”

You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went. 

You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.

“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”

By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.

A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done. 

Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.

“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”

It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.

It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.

“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”

Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.

You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.

You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror. 

“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.

“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.

“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”

She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.

The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.

Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.

It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.

Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.

He had told you he loved you.

The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance. 

You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.

His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness. 

The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get. 

Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.

Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips. 

“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing. 

He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”

You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.

“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”

The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.

The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.

“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”

“Not in a million years, darling.”

PART 3

[mehbzz]

I dreamt about Avery. Well I dreamt about having an argument with Avery. Which inspired this. F!reader x Avery 18+ Daddy Kink, gaslighting, possessive/controlling behaviour, blowjob. Dialogue heavy

“It could be better.” You tease but Avery doesn't look amused and your smile falters slightly.

“Sorry.”

You look back down at your plate and half heartedly jab at the salad he'd ordered for you. Conserving your figure he'd said. You're pretty sure if he wants to conserve your figure you'd have been off with the steak he was currently eating.

Between the stress of school and having to find money to pay Bailey every week you were hardly eating, barely having enough money to even buy food. In fact your school skirt had felt a little looser than normal that morning.

“Eat your food don't play with it, you're embarrassing me.”

He's voice is quiet and cold, and you aware he's close to being angry with you.

You take a reluctant bite and give him a small smile. He still doesn't look happy but he relaxes a little.

“I was disappointed not to see you this afternoon, after school.”

“Sorry I had plans. I didn't know you were waiting for me.” You try to keep your voice light, casual, but you can feel the disappointment radiating off him.

“It's Wednesday. I told you I could be free on Wednesday and Fridays to take you home.”

Could be free not would be free. You mutter in your head, taking another bite of salad to stop yourself from answering out loud.

“You were with your friend?” He says friend like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth and takes another sip of his wine.

“Robin.”

“What?”

“His name is Robin.”

He doesn't look happy with your explanation. “You spend a lot of time with… Robin.”

His lip curls in obvious distaste and it sends a chill down your spine. You think you've misjudged his mood; he's not disappointed, he's angry.

“Well he's my friend,” You say weakly, “and we live together. It's hard to avoid each other.” You try to joke but he doesn’t smile.

“I think you should spend less time together.”

“What? He’s my friend.”

He glances around and then leans forward, reaching across the table to grasp your hand. “And what am I?”

“I, you’re-” His low tone flusters you and you stutter over your words.

“I'm what?”

“You’re my daddy.” You whisper.

His lips twitch in an almost smile. “Yes I am. And when daddy tells you to do something, you do it.”

You nod.

“I didn't hear you princess.”

“Yes daddy.” You don’t raise your voice from your quiet whisper but you look up at him. He enjoys teasing you but if someone overheard he would not be happy.

He sits back, pleased at your submission. “You will need a new dress for the party,” His eyes swoop over your evening gown with a hint of disapproval. “You’re taste is-” “Party?” He looks annoyed at your interruption. “On Saturday.” “I don’t remember you mentioning that.” He frowns, “If you paid attention when I talked you would.” “I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy with school.” Had he really told you about it? Whitney had made you promise to keep the weekend free and you felt your stress rise. You did not want to risk his or Avery’s ire. He’s quiet as he watches you. “How are your grades?” The quick change of topic surprises you. “They’re good.” He raises an eyebrow and you take that as permission to continue. “I passed my tests this week with A's,” He smiles and you feel a little calmer at his obvious approval. “And I’m working on a solution for the maths competition. I think I have a pretty good chance of winning.” “Wonderful,” His smile widens. “I’m proud of you.” Oh. The praise makes you warm and you feel your face heat in a blush. You’re not sure when this relationship started becoming more than a money maker to you but his praise and affection made you feel good and you found yourself craving it more and more. He looked after you; sometimes you even thought he cared about you more than he let on. It was something you’d never felt before and you couldn’t help latching on to it. “So um, the party?” He sighs, his irritation evident and it stings. “We just talked about this.” You shift awkwardly. “I already have plans this weekend.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. He’s going to be mad. “No you don’t.” it’s a warning. “I really can’t I’m-” “You’re being difficult.” He waves his hand dismissively. “You have plans with me. Just because you say you don’t remember them doesn’t mean they weren’t made. I will pick you up at eight.” You stay silent and focus on finishing your food. Arguing now was only got to get you in more trouble.

You see the waiter approaching out the corner of your eye but Avery waves him away, placing a pile of bills on the table and stands up. “I'll take you home. Your behaviour has been disappointing tonight.” His words stab at your heart and you feel a lump in your throat. You were not going to cry. It would only disappoint him more.

The ride back to the orphanage was quiet and tense. His displeasure was clear and you chewed your tongue in an effort to stop yourself crying. He pulls up opposite the orphanage, under the broken street lamp and you both just sit there silently. Are you dismissed? Does he not want anything from you tonight?

“Here.” It’s curt, cold, as he holds out some cash. It’s less than he normally gives you and with no request for a kiss your heart sinks a little. He is really upset with you. You’re heart was aching and all you wanted was to hear him tell you how good you were, how proud he was of your behaviour.

You bite you lip, unsure before leaning forward and pressing your lips tentatively to his, if he’s going to reject you. He doesn’t pull back but he doesn’t respond either. You kiss him again, chaste fluttery brushes of your lips over his. “I’m sorry daddy.” He relaxes at your whisper, finally responding to your efforts and kissing you back. “Say it again princess.” “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me daddy.” Avery sighs, tucking your head into the nape of his neck and running his hand down your spine “Such a sweet girl, I can’t stay mad at you.” You melt into his touch, and between his body heat and the calming motion of his hand down your back you feel yourself starting to nod off.

The stern murmur of your name draws you back from your sleepy state, and he brushes a loose strand of your hair back behind your ear as you sit up. "You can make it up to me.” You nod, hands already reaching for his zipper but he catches your wrists with an amused huff. “No. You do as I say in the future. Am I clear?” “Yes daddy.” You smile, not really registering what you’re agreeing too; just glad he seems happy with you again. “Good girl.” He pulls you back into his arms, hand resuming the comforting touch down your back. The two of you stay pressed together for a long while until your muscles start to ache at the awkward angle and he eventually lets you go. “For a dress,” He hands you some more money, pulling it out of your reach when you try to take it. “I want you to show me before you buy it.” You nod. It was by far the least embarrassing thing he’d asked you to send him pictures of. Avery shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider and looks at you expectantly. “Now, why don’t you show daddy how grateful you are?”

You nod and quickly undo his trousers, wasting no time in taking his hard cock into your hand lest his good mood turn sour again. You give the head of his cock a gentle kiss, and his immediate sigh of pleasure encourages you to lick a long, slow stripe from base to tip. “I’m not in the mood for teasing, princess.” You hum in response eager to please and suck the entire head of his cock into your mouth, the satisfied grunt from above making your cunt clench in response. He always sounds so good when he moans, the sounds of his enjoyment nearly always turning you on. You swirl your tongue round the head of his cock a couple of times before taking it down your throat as far as you can. Tears are starting to gather at the corner of your eyes but Avery’s moans and gasps of pleasure make you persevere. Retreating and going down again, not stopping until your nose is buried in the dark pubic hairs at the base. As Avery’s hand tightens in your hair, stopping you from withdrawing you try not to choke, relaxing your throat and trying to breathe through your nose. Tears are running freely down your face and drool runs down your chin, and you hope he’s not going to punish you for making a mess. Just as you’re reaching your limit he relaxes his hold, allowing you to pull back just a little. “Be a good girl and swallow.” his voice is strained; you hum in agreement, you wouldn’t dare do anything else. You’d learnt the hard way that getting stains on his expensive suits earned you pretty harsh punishments.

It doesn’t take long, only a couple more swirls of your tongue before he cums with a loud moan. It’s thick and slightly bitter and more than you expected but you swallow greedily, determined not to spill a drop. He holds you close, the head of his cock just resting on your tongue until he manages to catch his breath. Once he lets go of your hair you tuck him back in his trousers and sit up, giving him a pleased smile. Hand cradling your jaw and his thumb stroking down your cheekbone he smiles in return. “I want you to think about me when you touch yourself tonight.” It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say and your face heats fiercely as he chuckles. “You don’t want to disappoint daddy now do you?” His smile turns wicked as your embarrassment increases but he has mercy on you and pulls away to just rest a hand on your knee. "Don't I get a reward for bringing you home safe and sound?" He taps a finger to his lips. You lean in and press a chaste kiss on Avery's lips. His fingers flex on your knee and you think he’s going to deepen the kiss, maybe ask you to stay, but he doesn’t and you climb from the car, happy but a little disappointed. He watches you for a moment, making sure you reach the door of the orphanage before driving away.

[amor-immortalem]

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch. 9

Previous

Warning(s) implied sexual content

Taglist: @mediocredetective @it-hurts-when-i-blink @ima-simp-uwu @luckyauthorlampknight

Standing in front of their house, Mammon was in awe. Three months ago, he would have never guessed that he’d see this place or Arella ever again. It was late afternoon- almost evening- so his brothers and Solomon decided to just drop Mammon off, check into their hotel rooms, get something to eat, and drop by the next day.

Without wasting another minute, the white-haired demon took off for the front door, throwing it open in an instant. When he saw her, he grabbed her, wrapping her in a hug and Arella responded in kind.

“I missed ya.” He can’t help the way his voice cracks as he speaks, “I missed ya so damn much. Lucifer- he said that... that..”

“Shhh,” Arella cups his face in her hands, “It's okay. You’re home now. We’re together. That’s all that matters, okay?”

The Avatar of Greed only nods as he buries his face in her neck, slowly relaxing as he breathes in her scent. They sink to their knees, still wrapped up in each other's embrace and for the first time in months, Mammon really does feel like he’s home.

Once they pull away, the demon takes a moment to look over his human. As his eyes fall to her growing belly, Arella takes his hand and holds it against the side of it. When he feels the tiny kick, Mammon smiles.

“This is really, happenin’? We’re gonna be parents?”

“Yeah, we’re going to be parents.” She nods.

“Boy or girl? One or multiples?” There’s so much he’s missed over these past three months. Months he’ll never be able to get back thanks to his brother.

“Just one,” Arella smiles, “A boy. C’mon, I'll show you the ultrasound pictures from my latest scan.” She gets to her feet as she tugs at Mammon’s hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Lemme at least take my shoes off, Baby.” the demon chuckles as he gives her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry, Sorry, I’m just excited to have you back.”

“I know.” he nods as he toes off his boots and places them by her shoes near the door. I’m excited to come back to you.

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

“Mammon, why didn't your brothers pop by with you- and what about Solomon too?” She asks as they settle on the couch with a little scrapbook containing the scan images.

“They wanted to go check into their hotels and Beel was hungry so they all went to get a bite to eat. They’ll drop by tomorrow morning after breakfast.” he says as he shifts a little so she laying more against his side with his arm wrapped around her, hand placed on her stomach.

Arella nodded as she leaned her head on Mammon’s chest and flipped to the image of her latest scan. The demon scans them over carefully before his eyes notice the little horns and wings that had started to form.

“This feels like a dream...” The Avatar of Greed smiles as he presses his forehead against Arella’s. “The best dream ever. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For lovin’ me- even with all the horrible things about me. For choosing me.”

Arella only smiled as she kissed his forehead lovingly as she took the little scrapbook and placed it on the coffee table. “You never have to thank me for any of that. Even if I had to do it all again, I would still choose you. Despite our rocky start, there’s no one else I could ever imagine loving.”

“That’s so cheesy,” he says as they laugh together, “I love it...” He brushes a lock of hair as he leans in to steal a kiss followed by another and then another. He can’t stop himself after being deprived of it for so long and she doesn’t want him to anyway.

As they pull away to breathe, they lock eyes for a moment.

“Do ya wanna- Is it safe...?”

“Yes... It’s safe as long as you don’t collapse on top of me. Might be a little awkward unless I’m on top though.”

“Don’t care who's on top as long as we both get off,” he says between kisses as he lifts her up and carries her off to their bedroom to make up for lost time.

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

“You wanna know what the best part of it all was?” Mammon asks while he and Arella ate breakfast in bed together and talked about the time he’d spent away from her the next morning.

“Hmm?”

“That night before we left for here, it felt like we were really brothers again. Like it had been forever since I played games with Levi and the twins without any of us getting' inta a fight or someone makin’ a nasty comment of some kind. It reminded me of how much I actually missed those days from the Celestial Realm- we even all fell asleep in my room as well.”

“I’m happy you got to experience that much with them,” She smiles as she takes a sip of her peppermint tea. “It sounds like they learned their lesson, hm?”

“Yeah, I guess they did... Part of me thinks they felt a little sorry for me at first when I got back. They all knew I was upset and Lucifer wasn’t helpin’- just tryin’ ta make me believe stupid things that weren’t true- so I thought they were just takin’ pity on me, but then they kept showin’ up day after day. They didn’t give up on me when I kept sayin’ no ta everyone but Satan and his study sessions... but even that was just cuz I wanted Lucifer off my back about my grades...”

“I wish I would have been home that day to order him to leave and never come back- to just let you be happy. Something was telling me to call-in that day and I wish I would have listened to it... I heard from Solomon who heard from Asmo what your... brother…” The word tastes bitter on her tongue, “said to you and I can’t understand it. I knew he was mad at me for bringing you here but I always thought he was approving of our relationship... so it hurts to hear he’s said those horrible things about me- that he thinks I’m bad for you or trying to use you for your abilities or trying to isolate you from your brothers. None of those things are true, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I do... but for a lil’ bit... I doubted it. Lucifer had never lied to me before unless it was ta protect me an’ our brothers... so I had no reason not to believe him either...”

“There has to have been an underlying reason...” Thinking for a few moments it dawns on her, “What if he thought he really was protecting you... It doesn’t excuse his actions in the slightest but think about it. The root of the events that led up to your sister’s death was her falling in love with a human. You know the laws of the Devildom pretty well, are there any arcane laws similar to the one in the Celestial Realm that Lilith broke- the one where an angel can’t tamper with or extend a human’s lifespan?”

Mammon thinks for a minute- there were so many ridiculous ancient laws he’d seen when he studied them right after he became a demon but one in particular, along with its penalty, stood out in his mind.

“Y-Yeah there’s one.”

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

Next

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[alloftheimaginesblog]

Coffee and a Muffin on a Monday Morning (Indiana Jones x Plus Size History Professor)

Plot: The students have a betting pool on when you're going to get together with Professor Jones, some decide to 'motivate' the two of you.

Character: Indiana Jones x Plus Size Reader

Requested by @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Note: this is part of my Plus Size Reader x Character Series and also, it’s a part of the Plus Size History Professor Reader x Indiana Jones series because Charlotte sent in a bunch of great requests for it and i love Indiana Jones so... :)

It was a well known fact around the college that many of the students thought that you and Professor Jones should be together. It was an amusing thought that so many students, not only in your class but in Indiana’s - Professor Jones’s - thought that you two would be perfect for each other.

It had started months ago when Professor Jones came into your classroom as you were giving a lesson. He had brought you coffee and a muffin, “How did you know?” You asked with a smile.

“It’s Monday, usually you’re running late and miss breakfast.” You could feel the heat on your cheeks as a few of your students began to giggle. You and Indiana were friends - just friends... I mean, sure, he was the most handsome man you’d ever met. He had a charm to him, a charm that you’d never seen before; a charm so strong that he’d be able to make anyone swoon and he knew it. He always wore that stupid cocky grin but he was just so cool with it. Since starting your job as a History Professor at the college last year, you and Indiana immediately clicked and became friends. Course you would, he was an Archaeology Professor and you taught History; match made in heaven! Indiana helped you with all sorts; grading papers, planning lessons... hell, he even drove you home and cooked you dinner when you had a really bad migraine. Maybe there was some truth to the gossip that swirled saying he had feelings for you? No. You wouldn’t let a silly crush ruin your friendship with him, unless he wanted to ruin the friendship for something more.

“Professor?” Someone asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked up to see one of your students, “Yes, Sarah?”

“Professor Jones asked that I give this to you.” Sarah smiled, handing you a cup of what looked like coffee and a muffin, “He’s sorry that he couldn’t deliver it to you himself, he got pulled away to a meeting.”

You frowned as you accepted the mug and the muffin, “I wonder why-”

“Have you forgotten?” Another of your students laughed before several said in chorus, “It’s Monday.”

“Oh.” Once more, your cheeks were hot as you realised that your own students knew the script now, “Take a couple of minutes to yourselves.” You took a sip of the coffee trying to make the bitter liquid drown your embarrassment. Your students could see the embarrassment radiating from you.

Sarah decided to speak up, “You know, I think it’s nice.”

“What’s nice?” Your favourite thing about your class was that you and your students felt free to just chat. There weren’t the usual formalities with you and your class like other Professors; you wanted your students to know that they could just come and chat to you and you wouldn’t judge them for it.

“That he brings you coffee and a muffin every Monday.”

“-and that he waits on you at lunchtime so you can sit in his office and talk History together.”

“-don’t forget that he brought in that really old artefact because he knew how much you loved Egyptian history and he got in so much trouble because it shouldn’t have been taken out of where it was kept.”

Your students continued to chime out things that Professor Jones had done for you. Mulling over what they were saying, you gulped the rest of your coffee before standing up and clearing your throat, “Enough chit chat about Professor Jones. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that we’re just friends.” You turned away from your students, grabbing the textbook and fiddling with the pages as a couple of students began to whisper about how to get you and Professor Jones together.

The morning went by quite fast, you’d managed to get the class off the topic of Professor Jones and onto Ancient History. You were in your element when teaching, you knew exactly what you were talking about and could answer almost every question that the students threw at you. If you didn’t know the answer, you and the students would try and figure it out together.

All too soon, the bell was ringing signalling lunch. You’d been too busy erasing the chalkboard that you never realised Sarah swiped the key from your desk. As the class emptied, you could hear them say ‘hi’ to someone waiting outside. You looked to your right and smiled, “Professor Jones.”

Indiana strode into your classroom with a wide smile, “How are you today, (y/n)?” He asked as he sat on one of the students desks.

You opened your mouth to respond when all of a sudden your classroom door swung shut and Sarah turned the key in the door, “What the- Sarah?” You could see the girl through the frosted glass. You walked towards the door, turning the knob but it wouldn’t open, “Sarah, what the- let us out!”

“Oh no, I can’t hear you! I guess you’ll have to stay in there all lunch break with Professor Jones!” Sarah called, you could hear the laughter in her voice before she rushed off, leaving you calling her from the other side of the locked door.

“Damn these stupid door that lock from the outside.” You turned back to look at Indiana who was trying to hold back a laugh, “Guess we’re having lunch in here.”

“Can I ask why your students are locking us in your own classroom?” Indiana asked as you grabbed your bag to get your lunch out of it.

“Sandwich?�� You offered him, knowing that his lunch would be in his own classroom. He gladly took the half you offered, “My students are convinced that... oh, it’ll sound silly.”

“They’re convinced we should date?” Indiana smirked as he took a bite of the sandwich.

Your cheeks burned again, “Yes... How did you know?”

“Funnily enough, my students say the same thing... They started a while ago when I brought you-”

“-coffee and a muffin on a Monday,” you smiled, lifting your eyes to meet his,  “Mine too. They’re locking us in so that we’ll finally admit defeat and go on a date, I think.”

“Well?” Indiana asked, taking another bite of the sandwich.

“Well, what?” 

“I thought I was being too obvious,” Indiana chuckled, “but my students thought you just thought I was being friendly.”

“I’m confused,” you frowned, “What are you trying to say?”

“For months, I’ve been trying to show you that I have true, genuine feelings for you. Why else would I make two cups of coffee and stop off at the café every morning to get you a muffin? Why would I risk losing my job to bring in artefacts to show you specifically? I have feelings for you, (y/n).” Whoa. You stared at Indiana like a fish out of water, eyes wide and mouth moving but no sound coming out. He laughed at your reaction, “You really didn’t know?”

“Are you being serious?” You asked incredulously, “Sarah didn’t put you up to this, did she?”

Indiana held up his hand, “Scout’s honour.” He leaned in closer, so close that you could smell his cologne and see his muscled arms tense underneath that crisp white shirt, “So, what do you say? Let me take you out for dinner tonight. I know it’s Monday and I know that’s when you like to plan lessons but-”

“Yes.”

“-but let me take you - wait, what?” Now it was his turn to be shocked.

You laughed at his reaction, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since that first Monday morning.” The two of you laughed together before the laugh subsided and you found yourselves staring at one another with stupid grins.

Indiana’s eyes glimpsed to your lips and you found yourself leaning in slowly. Usually, you wouldn’t have been this forward but there was something about him; something about this wonderfully handsome and charming man that you couldn’t help but want to kiss that stupid grin off his face. Your eyes fluttered closed as he was mere centimetres from your face but, of course, the college bell had other plans.

It rang loud and sharp and stopped you and Indiana dead in your tracks. Indiana huffed out a ‘ugh’ while you pulled back, flustered, “Rain check on that,” he laughed as he stood up, brushing any crumbs off of his trousers.

You stood up, smiling, brushing your own trousers off too. To be honest, you felt like you were dreaming. As silly as it sounded, you thought Indiana to be miles out of your league; he was handsome and funny and that smile could’ve melted the Ice Age and you... You thought you were just average but Indiana thought differently. The way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention was full of awe. He liked the way your glasses slipped down your nose as you read and how you scrunched your nose to keep them falling further before pushing them up with a pointed finger and a huff. He liked the way you dressed, that you didn’t hide your body away; you were curvy, you were a bigger girl and loved it; you had stomach rolls and big hips and wobbly arms and you wore it so well. He loved your smile and the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something that interested you. Sure, you didn’t know that then but you would soon learn how much he admired you.

You walked with him to the door, “So, dinner tonight, yeah?” You asked him quietly.

Indiana tried to hide his smile, “We’ll go straight from work, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

The lock clicked and the door swung open to reveal Sarah and a few other students. Sarah smiled proudly, key in hand, as she saw the closeness of the two of you, “Oops,” she said innocently.

“I’ll see you later,” Indiana said, throwing a wink in your direction. He leaned in and kissed your cheek softly, “We have to give the kids something they went to the effort of locking us in here!” He teased, breath tickling your cheek, as giggles erupted from behind him. He pulled back and as soon as he did, you missed his lips on your skin, before turning and leaving.

The students grinned at you, “I take it that it went well?” Sarah smiled. You faintly heard someone say ‘you owe me five bucks’.

“I hope you know that you’ll be getting double homework for the next week for that stunt,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest trying your best to look intimidating.

Sarah laughed, “My pleasure!” As the students piled back into your classroom, you found yourself to be awful distracted by that lingering scent of cologne and the lingering sensation of those lips pressing softly against your cheek. Tonight couldn’t come fast enough.

[refuge-au]

>Open the Captain's File

Xisuma: Break the News

The model in the center of the entrance hall spun slowly, the mechanical, to scale, planets orbiting the massive sun at a rate thousands of times faster than their real counterparts did. The fake sun glowed softly, it’s light dimming briefly as Jupiter crossed between it and the man viewing it. Jupiter’s moons and the metallic arms that held them above the ground created a spiderweb pattern of shadows on the ground that slowly swept across the body of the visitor as it moved.

Xisuma stood several feet away from the center of the solar system model, his eyes tracing the path of Earth as it came out from behind the sun in an almost melancholy way. His brown hair was tied back in a short ponytail, his beard freshly trimmed- although you couldn’t see it at all thanks to the respirator he was wearing. He had even gone to the trouble of putting on one of his more casual dress uniforms.

The effort hadn’t gone unnoticed by the museum staff, drawing a couple of confused looks and some whispers, but he did his best to ignore him. What he had to say wouldn’t go over well, so he might as well look nice. Get some compliments.

The door opened, and the employee greeted the group of people that walked in cheerfully. X turned around, taking a deep breath, and smiled. Show time.

An older woman, just a bit shorter than him, her hair almost completely white, was pushing the wheelchair of a man that someone might have mistaken for him, if his hair weren't as white as hers and his face covered in scars. The woman checked in at the front desk quickly, showing a pass, and then turned and saw him, her eyes crinkling in a smile.

She walked over to Xisuma, the man in the wheelchair saying something and rolling over to the other side of the model.

“Hey, mom.” He said, trying to ignore the way his bottom lip trembled when she pulled him into a hug, her respirator digging into his shoulder.

“You’re all dressed up.” She said, stepping back and putting a hand to his cheek in the way that she always had when they were little. “You look nice, honey.”

“Thank you.” He said, bringing his hand up to cover hers. “You look nice too.”

She chuckled, patting the side of his face and then putting her hand down. “Oh, stop. I didn’t realize that this was going to be a formal dress event, or I would’ve thrown on something besides my work clothes.”

“It’s not a formal dress event, I just felt like cleaning up a bit.” Xisuma shrugged, hoping that the tension in his shoulders didn’t betray the news that he was bringing. “Haven’t had the opportunity to wear this in a bit, got a discount on museum admission, you know.”

She smiled at him again, but her eyes seemed… sad. “…Xisuma, we’re very proud of you. You know that, right?”

“I know.” He replied. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just looking at him, as if she was searching for an answer to an unspoken question in his eyes. Whatever she found there didn’t seem to change her emotions, her soft smile and that strange sadness remaining as she pulled her purse to the front of her, opening it.

“You should go talk to your brother, dear. I need to go change my filter before I forget.”

“You didn’t change it before you came here? Mom…”

She waved one hand in the air as she continued to move things around in her purse with the other. “The alert came just as we got inside. A few minutes on a bad filter isn’t going to kill me.”

“…Alright. We’ll wait for you.” Xisuma said, and his mother waved him off as he headed over to the other side of the model where his twin brother was sitting, staring up at the planets in silence.

He reached his side, and stopped. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like forever.

Finally his brother spoke. “Xisuma.”

“Xenelis.” He replied, looking down to find his twin’s steely grey eyes staring up at him.

“Where are they sending you this time?” Xenelis’ voice was quiet, raspy- although he didn’t know if it was from the medical grade respirator attached to his mouth and nose or from his vocal cords being underused.

Xisuma started. “What? What do you mean?”

“You didn’t visit us at home or at the hospital, you called us out. You’re dressed up, but you didn’t tell us that this was a formal event. You’re stiffer than usual, which is saying something, and you look like you’re homesick even though you’re a fifteen minute commute away from your apartment.” Xenelis said, his voice carefully void of all emotion. “Where are they sending you?”

Xisuma looked away, breaking eyes contact and staring up at the solar system spinning above him. “Off planet.”

“Out of galaxy?”

“Yes.”

“How far?”

Xisuma didn’t respond for a moment too long, and that was all the answer that his brother needed. His sigh, heavy and full of disappointment and bitterness, hit Xisuma like a bullet to the heart.

“Of course.” Xenelis said. “Well, congratulations. You did it. You left us behind, just like you always wanted too. Good job, bro.”

“Damnit, Xen, you know that’s not-“ Xisuma rounded on his brother, hands automatically going to his hips.

“It’s not? It’s not? It sure as hell looks like it is. You’ve been leaving our whole lives, Iz- it’s just nonstop leaving and leaving and leaving- and now you finally don’t have to come back!” Xenelis snapped. “Good for you! Living your dream!”

“This mission is for the sake of the entire planet! I can’t just refuse to go on a mission that might make or break the human race-“

“Of course you can! You’re not the only high ranking officer out there! They could’ve found someone else, anyone else!”

“They came to me, specifically, asked me to pick out a crew, told me that we would save the world- how am I supposed to turn that offer down? You would’ve taken it in an instant-“

“Not if you were in my position I fucking wouldn’t’ve-!”

“Boys?” Their mom called from the other side of the model.

“Coming, mom.” They chorused automatically, shooting each other a glare. Xisuma walked around one side of the model and Xenelis rolled around the other, meeting in the middle.

Their mother smiled at both of them, apparently unaware of the argument that had been rapidly escalating until she entered the conversation. “There you are. Shall we go look at the new exhibits? I heard they had one about the Titanic.”

“Sure, mom.” Xisuma said, falling into step behind her as she led the way into the museum.

The visit was… cordial. Their mother chatted with both of them about equally, talking about this and that, whatever came to her mind. She was probably trying to fill the heavy silence that fell between the twins, Xenelis refusing to speak to Xisuma, and vice versa.

When they reached the end of their museum tour, pausing in the aquarium section before they left, Xisuma bit the bullet.

“Mom,” he said, folding his hands behind his back. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Go ahead, dear.” She said absently, watching as a massive manta ray swam overhead.

Bathed in the blue light from the massive aquarium tank, she and Xenelis looked almost peaceful. Gods only knew how made Xen really was, however, and Xisuma knew that it was only a trick of the light. Or maybe it was a trick of the mind, him trying to convince himself that him leaving wouldn’t hurt them as much as he knew it would.

“…I’m leaving.” He said, turning to watch as the manta continued on its way. “They’re sending me on a mission to deep space.”

Her eyes closed momentary, steeling herself as she turned to him. “Deep space?”

“Past Centauri.” He said quietly. “They’re building a team of scientists and researchers to start colonizing a new planet.”

“Why so far away?” She asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Mars can’t sustain a population like Earth’s, and after the Venus colonies failed… the galaxy isn’t suitable for life anymore. You know it’s true, mom. You’ve watched it happen. Think of how different things are now from when you were a kid.” His tone was soft, but he knew that there was a hint of pleading in there somewhere. She must understand. She wouldn’t be mad at him too, right?

“I know, I know, but… but of all people, why you?” Her voice broke, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

Xisuma’s heart sank as he stepped forward, hugging her. “They couldn’t find anyone better to do it. Mom-“

“When will you come home?” She asked, her voice thick with tears.

“I don’t know.” Maybe never. “I… don’t know.”

She cried for a while, and her sons remained in silence, one other knowing what to say, and the other not wanting to say anything.

When she finally stopped, she only had positive things to say. She was proud of him, she was sure he was going to do great, they would be able to communicate, even if it wasn’t face to face… but that sorrow in her eyes that he had noticed before was much more prevalent.

Had she expected this?

Was he really as predictable as Xen said he was?

They said their goodbyes just outside the museum. His mother hugged him tightly, told him she would see him soon.

Xenelis’ eyes crinkled in what he knew was some form of a mocking smile or sneer. “I hope you have fun, Iz.”

“I’m not leaving right away. I’ll see you again.”

“That’s what you always say.” Xen retorted sharply, turning and rolling away towards the ramp down to the street, where their mother was already waiting.

Xisuma stood at the door to the museum and watched them get into a car and fade out of sight, his heart heavy in his chest.

Computer: New Command unlocked!

Computer: Input the command Profile: [Name] to open the file associated with that person. Please note: some files or portions of files may not be available due to clearance levels.

Computer: Input Command: Show Available Files:

> Open the Pilot’s File.

> Open the Doctor’s File.

> Continue.

[joheun-saram]

right here (jhs)

Summary- “That’s the thing about dating your best friend, when you break up you not only lose your partner, you lose the person who would console you too.”

word count- 4.1k

pairing- college!hoseok x reader

rating- pg15

genre- angst, childhood lovers, college au

warnings- drinking, marijuana use mention, mentions of sex but no explicit descriptions

a.n- i’ve been obsessed with keshi’s song right here and so this fic was born. i love hobi and i hurt writing this. s/o to @papillonsgf for reading it and easing my worries 🥺

Feedback much appreciated! 💕 An ask goes a long way... to my heart.

gif is not mine! :)

-

March 8th, 2:04 am

Y/N: I know it's random, how you've been?

March 11th, 11:26 pm

Y/N: Do you remember 'bout this band you said you listened to?

March 16th, 1:17 am

Y/N: I miss you, Hobi :(

March 16th, 3:43 am

Y/N: Hope life is treating you better...

Hoseok watched across the room as you sat in Taehyung’s lap. Your hand was on his chest as you laughed at a joke while his hand laid on your bare thigh, caressing right where your skirt ended. Hoseok’s drink tasted bitter as he scrolled through the messages you had sent him last month. 

He didn’t know why he was so held up on you still. It had been over three months since you broke up but every time you messaged him it was like his heart somersaulted in his chest. He had taken Yoongi’s advice to ignore your messages, in fact, Yoongi had suggested blocking you altogether so Hoseok could have some peace and move on but every time he tried to block you something stopped him. He could never bring himself to do it. It was like every atom in his body revolted against it.

You had dated for two years and even before that, you had been best friends for six years. Now you were a shadow in his life, always there in the background but he couldn’t feel you anymore. Ever present, but he could never catch you. He missed you. He always missed you but it seemed that you were happier now with your new guy. As he watched you cuddling cosily with Taehyung, he was sure that you weren’t even aware that he was at this party.

“I love you, Y/N. Please. I’m only saying this because I love you.” Hoseok maintained his tone despite how angry he felt at your actions. You had just casually told him you were flunking another class as you dressed up to go to another party. He couldn’t believe your cavalier attitude. You had been doing that a lot lately - going out with your new friends and getting wasted beyond your limit. This was how it always went. You’d go out and then come home late, stumbling into bed giggling, your breath reeking of liquor as you cuddled into him. He’d let it pass for months but he could see you disappear. He had tried to convince you to turn it down a notch time and time again but it always ended in the same ugly fight.

“You don’t control the people you love!” You snapped at him from where you stood in your shared bedroom, jacket falling off of one shoulder.

“I’m not trying to control you… Baby, please! I just want you to do better.” He went over to you, fixing your jacket as he cupped your face. He wanted you to understand how much it hurt him to see you this way. You shrugged him off, moving backward.

“Oh just because my grades suck, I’m not doing good?” Malice painted your tone as you raised your voice.

“You know that’s not what I mean, but this is not you. Showing up drunk to class? Staying all night at frat parties? That’s not you!” He matched your volume. He needed you to see that he was not the enemy. He wanted to shake some sense into you.

“Well, maybe you don’t know me, Hoseok.” Your eyes narrowed at him and he felt his heart sink. How could you say that to him? The ice in your tone running through his veins.

“I’ve known you since we were twelve!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration.

“That doesn’t give you the right to tell me how to live!” You poked him in the chest as your anger flared further.

“Please baby. Just talk to me. What’s wrong?” He softened his tone as he clasped your hand poking him in both of his. He knew you. Despite your words, he knew you. There was no way you were suddenly a party animal. There had to be something wrong.

“I just want to enjoy university, is that too much to ask?” You pulled your hand away from his harshly. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong but your anger fed his.

“And blacking out each night is enjoying it?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t have the same fight every night!” 

“Then stop. Stop fucking throwing your life away!” He couldn’t help how his voice broke at the end of the sentence. He could never control his emotions, especially when it came to you, and anger fuelled the tears that threatened to escape his eyes.

“Fuck you Hoseok. Fuck you! I’m done!” You pushed past him as you made your way towards the front door.

“What do you mean you’re done? Where are you going?” He grabbed your wrist as you neared the door, tears freely flowing at seeing your face distorted in anger. “Stop. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. I never want to see you again.” Your voice was cold, almost formal. No hint of emotion whereas Hoseok was a bawling mess. He always hated how in control of your emotions you were compared to him.

“Y/N… You don’t mean that. I love you.” He pulled you into a hug and whispered into your hair, holding on for dear life. His heart was racing. He couldn’t lose you. He didn’t know who he was without you. How could you look him in the eye and tell him you never wanted to see him again? Did eight years mean nothing to you?

“I love you too but I can’t do this anymore. You’re suffocating me.” You pushed him off and he could see the tears in your eyes, betraying your carefully put together facade.

“Y/N… please don’t do this.” He pleaded, holding your hand before you harshly shrug him off again.

“Bye Hoseok. I hope you find someone you don’t have to lecture.” You opened the door as you gave him one last withering look before heading out.

“Wait! You can’t just end us like this!”

“I can and I have. I’ll move out tomorrow.” And with that you were gone, disappearing into the night, while Hoseok crumpled to the ground, sobbing, unsure how your relationship had gotten to this point.

Hoseok walked into the kitchen. He needed something stronger than beer. He spotted a bottle of tequila on the counter, thanking his stars that the frat hosting this party was one that provided alcohol. As he poured himself a generous shot, Namjoon appeared slinging his arm around his shoulders, clearly tipsy.

“Hobi! Are you doing shots without me?” He gasped mockingly as he poured himself one too. Namjoon and Hoseok didn’t used to be particularly close but after his breakup with you, both men had bonded over their broken hearts. Namjoon’s girlfriend had cheated on him a few months before and it became a tradition for the two of them to drink in his apartment together. In fact, the only reason Hoseok was here today was that Yoongi had insisted that the two of them take their drinking outside of his and Namjoon’s shared apartment and try to find someone else to get over their heartbreak. He was sure it was only because Yoongi was annoyed by how loud they both got and he needed some peace. He had been roommates with Yoongi in first-year and he felt bad to impose on his friend almost every weekend so he agreed to let Namjoon drag him to this party.  Little did he know that you would be here tonight too.

“Never Joon! I wouldn’t betray the heartbreak boys!” Hoseok tried to muster as much excitement as he could, his smile half-hearted and not reaching his eyes. Fortunately, Namjoon didn’t notice as the two took three shots back to back. The sting in Hoseok’s throat felt welcomed, like antiseptic on a bad wound. 

“So you know how the best way to get over someone is getting under someone else?” Namjoon questioned, his eyes glazed over, as he looked over Hoseok’s shoulder. Hoseok responded in a hum, barely paying attention as his thoughts clouded over and replayed the way Taehyung’s hands caressed your body. He wished he never saw you tonight. Going from seeing you every day to not seeing you for three months had been terrible, but not as terrible as seeing you in his arms. Before he could delve further into his pain, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned to see a pair of women, one already going into Namjoon’s arms as she pressed her lips to his, and the other introducing herself to him. He barely heard her name and after still not getting it for a second time, he decided to not bother. 

He didn’t want to make new friends, didn’t want to get under someone else as Namjoon had so eloquently put it. He just wanted you. She was persistent though, flirting aggressively, taking his disinterest as a cue to work harder. As the shots caught up to him, he just let her. Let her push him against the wall of the kitchen, let her kiss his lips, his neck. Let her run her hands under his shirt. He kissed her back after that but as he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He kissed her harder hoping the image went away but it grew stronger, the memories of you whimpering under him, memories of you laughing as you came. God, you always giggled as you came and he was so weak. The montage of your once happy relationship haunted him and he felt a strong pang of guilt. This girl deserved better than to be imagined as someone else. He needed to get out of here.

Mumbling an apology, he pushed her off himself and grabbed a beer before going to the backyard. It was quieter there, the majority of the partygoers too stoned to be chaotic, the music inside pouring out in a blur of bass and treble. He found a spot on the grass next to a tree as he sat down to compose himself. That girl, whatever her name was, was the first person he had kissed after you, and suddenly he felt an onslaught of emotions. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered your first kiss, after a similar party, when he promised himself that you would be the last person he kissed.

“Shhhhh! We’re gonna wake up Yoongi!” Hoseok giggled as he stumbled into his dorm room and you followed closely behind tripping on the shoes strewn by the door and falling onto him. He wished he was as suave as the guys on tv and caught you but instead he stumbled with you crashing on the floor in a puddle of hushed laughter, your head on his thigh.

“Let’s go to your room before grandpa yells at us.” You snickered as you got on your feet, pulling Hoseok up with you. The two of you walked slowly to his room, changing into sweats and tshirts, before collapsing on the twin bed, his arm under your head. This was a normal occurrence for the two of you. Every time you both went out, you slept over at one of your dorm rooms. In highschool, you would sneak into each other’s bedrooms but the freedom of university made it easier. Lying next to you, Hoseok felt comfortable. Just your presence put him at ease and soon your conversation was dying as his eyes got heavier.

“Hobi?” you whispered next to him making him turn around to face you. You always did this when you were drunk - bargained for cuddles - and as sleepy as he was, Hoseok didn’t feel like protesting as usual, so he put his arm around your waist and pulled you close, his one leg hitched around your hip.

“Goodnight.” He whispered patting the back of your head as he drifted off. What he didn’t expect was for your lips to touch his. It was a soft, lingering peck and it was like he was electrocuted, his eyes flying open. For a moment he thought it was some weirdly vivid dream until he heard you apologize. He had never thought of kissing you before, you were his best friend and he always thought of you as platonic. His platonic soulmate. But as soon as you had kissed him it was like a dam broke inside him, his heart beating fast, his lips tingling, and all he wanted was to do it again.

It was like he was on autopilot, his hand on the back of your neck as his lips silenced your apologies. This kiss wasn’t soft. It was eager, hungry, and Hoseok felt alive. It was like a switch went on in him, the feelings he had apparently repressed for years rushing to the surface at the same time settling him into a haze of endorphins. He couldn’t help grinning against you as your mouth parted for his tongue and he could finally taste you - the cheap wine coolers you drank, the one cigarette you bummed outside the party, and a sweetness that he could only describe as you. He needed you closer, inexplicably closer, as his grip around your waist got tighter, his leg pulling you in further till his knee was almost on the mattress, trying his hardest not to grind against you. 

You moaned against his mouth and he knew he would never forget that sound. How did he go so long without realizing how much he needed you? You were always the smarter one between the two of you - of course you knew before him that he would fall for you. 

He spent the night making out with you and he knew this was it. This was what they wrote songs about, started wars about. This was love. He felt it bloom within his chest, till the branches set each nerve ending alive. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him and he never wanted to let anyone else in the way he let you in. He didn’t know if you loved him too yet, but he was ready to convince you that he’d never want to kiss someone like he was kissing you right now.

“This seat taken?”

Hoseok felt his heart clench at hearing your voice. He didn’t want to see you in this state. He was far too vulnerable and drunk right now to control himself when it came to you. He didn’t know how he’d react. Without waiting for his response you made yourself comfortable next to him on the grass, your back against the tree as your shoulder lightly grazed his. He felt like his shoulder was on fire, and he moved slightly away from you.

“How’ve you been Hobi?” Your voice was light, airy, as if you had never stomped on his heart. As if you had never left him sobbing on your porch just a few months ago without so much as a glance in his direction. He wanted to scream at you, tell you how you broke him, ruined him for everyone else, but before he could get a word out, you reached your hand and placed it on his. The innocent touch was too intimate, and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. How did the two of you get here, where your hand on his made him want to hug you and sob on your shoulder. That’s the thing about dating your best friend, when you break up you not only lose your partner, you lose the person who would console you too. All he could do in response to your question was just shrug. He felt pathetic. Why were you torturing him?

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” you whispered as you squeezed his hand and he finally had the courage to look at you. You looked beautiful - the moonlight reflecting off your skin made you glow. His eyes traced your features from the curve of your brows, to how your eyes gazed at him softened, to the slope of your nose, to finally your lips, parted and shiny from your lip gloss. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning forward, crashing his lips on yours, kissing you quick and short, just enough to get rid of the taste of the girl before, just so he could hold on to you being the last person he kissed for a little bit longer. 

It’s when he saw the look of shock on your face that he realized what he had done. Muttering a quick apology, he stood up, ignoring your calls of his name as he walked through the house. He had to leave. He was an idiot. He was an idiot who was never going to get over you. Was this his life now? Watching you from afar, unable to control himself in your presence.

He decided to walk the thirty minutes to your - well now, just his - apartment. He was slower than usual, hoping that the fresh air would clear his mind, but everywhere he looked he was reminded of you. He passed by the ice cream shop where you had your first date and all he could think about was the way you coyly licked the melted ice cream off his fingers and kissed him telling him mint chocolate only tasted good off his tongue. He passed the twenty-four hour tattoo shop where he held your hand as you got your first tattoo at 3 am because you were bored and always wanted one, a little star on your hip. He passed the park where he had found you sulking after your first fight and he picked a wildflower for you, one that he hopes you still have pressed in your favourite book. He could never escape you. When he arrived at his door, he saw you standing there and thought he had finally lost all semblance of reality. That is, until you spoke.

“Baby, are you okay?” The pet name made his heart ache as he looked at you in alarm, realizing that you were actually there. He couldn’t do this. He stumbled back, almost tripping off the porch.

“Y/N… please. I can’t do this.” He pleaded, but he was helpless as you held his hand and guided him into the house, easily navigating him to his bed. You took off his shoes as he laid there, not having enough strength or courage to ask you to leave. He missed the way you would take care of him and he let you even if it's the last time. You didn’t say much as you tucked him under the covers, slowly caressing his hair and arms as he liked so he could fall asleep. This was cruel and he told you as much as silent tears escaped him, your quiet apologies echoing in his head as he fell asleep.

He woke up with a start, blinking at the sunlight that fills his room, groaning as his head ached from the hangover. He thought about the vivid dream he had of you putting him to bed and he couldn’t help but grimace at how pathetic he had become.

Startled was an understatement as he noticed you sitting in the desk chair next to his bed. Your were legs propped on the corner of the bed as you snoozed uncomfortably, your head bent at an odd angle. He noticed the bin next to his bed, right where his head would have been, and the bottle of water with painkillers on the nightstand. It reminded him of the times he had done the same for you and his head replayed the memory of when you walked out on him. Why were you back? Did you really miss him too?

He saw you stir and before he could lie back and pretend to be asleep, you were up, your eyes staring into his. You both sat there in silence just looking at each other. It had been so long that he had forgotten how your eyes could drown him, pull him in inexplicably deep.

You reached for him and before his brain could process it, he was reaching back, muscle memory leaving your fingers intertwined. That was when your facade broke for the first time in months and Hoseok could see a blackened tear that slowly trickled down your face. His eyes followed its path down your cheek as it lingered on your jaw before dripping on to your chest, darkening a spot on the red dress you wore. A few more followed its journey, before you were sobbing, loud cries that seemed to wreck your soul, and Hoseok was weak, pulling you into his chest and letting you use him as a makeshift kleenex. He didn’t know how long you both sat there, you crying on his chest, him holding you tightly, wishing he could stop your pain despite whatever you may have inflicted on him.

By the time you calmed down, he still couldn’t let you go, walking with your hand in his to your once shared kitchen, setting the kettle on. He still stocked your favourite blueberry tea even though he hated the taste. You spoke first after what seemed like hours.

“I dropped out.”

This was not what he had expected. Despite your numerous fights about schoolwork, he still liked to believe he knew you. It was your dream to study art, travel the world to visit galleries, with visions of curating your favourite exhibits. He still remembered all the times you would drag him to the local gallery, waxing poetic about inspirations behind modern art pieces. He never cared much about visual art but your passion had him holding onto every word. He could still recite everything about the history of the impressionist movement and its influences on your favourite artists. He knew that even if you were failing, you wouldn’t just give up on your passions.

“Our family business went bankrupt and so I can’t afford it. It was either this or our house.” Your voice was calm now, even monotonous, as if you had just expelled all the emotions earlier. He let you talk. Let you tell him about how your father had insisted they sell your family home and move to a studio so he could still supplement your tuition. But you could never do that to your family, have them sacrifice their home for something as silly as your childish dreams. Life had brought you to your knees, and you mourned your loss through parties and friends who encouraged your vices. 

Hoseok had a hard time processing - he thought he knew everything about you, but you were right that night, maybe he didn’t know you as well as he hoped. He racked his brain for any sign of the misery you spoke of, other than the late nights and he came up empty. To think, he’d been wasting time in the dance studio, with his hobbies, when he could have been helping you. 

He felt torn, he felt sad, he felt guilty, but all he could say was “Why didn’t you tell me?” Why had you hidden this from him when he could have lightened your load. He could’ve helped, taken out a loan from his parents, worked a part-time job to help you cover your bills. He was in love with you, didn’t you know that he would’ve done anything to help you? Would still do anything to help you.

“For once, Hoseok, I didn’t want to depend on you. I wanted to do it by myself, for myself.” Your voice was small, almost timid, but your eyes held your convictions. They softened as he squeezed your hand, and you apologized once more, almost pleading him to understand why you had to spend the last months alone, why you couldn’t be honest, but you didn’t need to say much he already understood. He knew you. 

He stood from where he was sitting on his stool and closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms haphazardly, one around your head and other around your shoulders. He squeezed you tight as if he could meld your bodies together, take away the hardships you faced through osmosis. He didn’t know what you expected of him, but all he could do was hold you close, and when you looked up at him, cupping his cheek, he kissed you. He took his time, slowly reacquainting himself to the lips he craved. He didn’t know if the tears he was tasting were yours or his but all he knew was that you were here. 

And as you whispered an “I love you” on his lips, he knew that no matter how broken you had left him, for you he’d always be right here.

-

I hope you liked this angsty piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

[sapphosclown]

Treat You Better - Tyrus AU

Part XIV: i guess we carried each other

Cyrus and TJ present their history project.

Masterlist

———

———

Cyrus was woken up by his alarm, a pleasant scene where birds are chirping quietly in the background and a soft melody crescendos into a lovely morning song.

It absolutely infuriated him.

Nothing against birds or happy music, but it’s 6am and Cyrus has been studying for midterms all week and and now he has to present a project with the guy who is mad at him for whatever unknown reason and quite frankly, Cyrus didn’t want to leave his bed ever again.

The memory of his and TJ’s rehearsal on Monday has been haunting him all week. Andi and Buffy said not to worry about it so he’s really been trying not to, but he can’t.

He misses how it used to be. TJ was always so open and talkative during their study sessions even Cyrus was rude and dismissive. He made Cyrus laugh anyways, made him feel relaxed. It didn’t feel like a school project, it just felt like hanging out with a friend. And now that he can enjoy that atmosphere, it’s taken away from him. Because of course it is.

Cyrus begrudgingly got out of bed and threw on his clothes before going to brush his teeth.

He got to school 15 minutes before the first exam period and saw Andi and Buffy in their usual spots and Jonah sitting on the table across from Buffy in the cafeteria.

“Hey, Cyrus!” Jonah smiled wide at him and held his hand up for a high five to which Cyrus responded with a weak tap as he slid into his seat.

“C'mon man you can do better than that.” Jonah said disapprovingly as he held his hand over to Buffy who slapped his hand without even looking.

“I’m sorry, I’m so tired today.” Cyrus groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Good thing I got a present for you,” Buffy sang as she slid an iced coffee across the table to him.

He looked at the coffee and back to buddy, eyes wide. “I love you.” He deadpanned, causing his friends to laugh.

“Today’s our last day and then it’s winter break, you got this!” Jonah nudged his shoulder gently.

“I think he’s just not excited for today in particular.” Andi replied, breaking apart each syllable of “particular”.

“Why, what’s happening today?” Jonah asked.

“He has his presentation with TJ today.” Buffy whispered loudly to Jonah.

“Oh.” Jonah whispered loudly back.

“You guys are so subtle.” Andi mimicked their voices.

“Whatever. I’ll be fine. Can we talk about something else?” Cyrus dismissed and took a sip of his coffee.

That lit up something in Buffy. “Oh yeah! Andi, tell him.”

“OH YEAH! Cyrus, you know how I was gonna ask Amber for her number?” She said excitedly.

“I do. Did you chicken out?” Cyrus teased, taking another sip of his drink.

Andi glared at him. “No.” she said quickly before shifting her eyes to the ceiling. “Well, I didn’t really get a chance BECAUSE SHE ASKED ME FIRST!”

Cyrus smiled at Buffy. “Called it.” He whispered loudly. Andi hit his arm playfully as he giggled and flinched away.

“Whatever. I still don’t know if she’s—”

“She is.” Jonah interjected.

Everyone turned to him with confused expressions.

“How do you know?” Andi asked.

“She told me. She doesn’t try to keep it a secret, did you not see the rainbow pin on her bag? Or the rainbow sticker on her name tag?” Jonah explained.

Buffy snorted.

“No I saw— She told you?” Andi asked again, still very lost.

“Yeah we’re friends.”

“Not the development I expected but a good one nonetheless.” Buffy joked to Cyrus.

“Since when?” Andi yelled.

“A while now. Our moms are friends and we have a lot in common. She told me she was gay like 2 years ago, I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out.” Jonah replied.

Andi stared at him.

“You knew her this whole time, and didn’t think to say anything?”

“I didn’t realize she was the girl you were madly in love with.”

Buffy snorted again.

“I AM NOT IN LOVE W—” Andi got cut off by the 5 minute warning bell and Buffy Cyrus and Jonah all started grabbing their bags to head to class. Andi stares at Jonah, grabbing her own bag. “We’re finishing this conversation later Beck.” She threatened before walking away.

Jonah looked at Cyrus with fear in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me man!”

“What did I do!” Jonah laughed as he and Cyrus headed to their first exam.

***

The good news is Cyrus had English for his first exam to distract him from his impending doom. The bad news is English is is over and now he has to go to history.

Under regular circumstances he’d be glad that his teacher is taking these presentations for their midterm grades, but he’s kind of too busy cursing whatever god is out there controlling his life to worry about his grade.

Cyrus subconsciously walked ever so slightly slower to his history classroom, knowing it doesn’t actually make a difference to what’s gonna happen but it’s worth a shot. Turns out it kind of worked, but in the worst way possible.

Cyrus got to the room at the exact same time as TJ and they practically ran each other over trying to get through the door at the same time.

“Hey, what the hell— Cyrus!” TJ said much louder than he probably meant to.

Cyrus stood at him in shock for a second. Of course he thought to himself. “Um, sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” He forced a smile and walked into class as TJ called after him.

“Wait, Cyrus—” TJ said, taking a seat next to him. “Can... Can we talk?”

Cyrus opened his mouth to respond but the only sound that came was from the bell signaling clad to start. Cyrus looked to the front of the room where their teacher had already started talking.

“Alright, we don’t really have time to waste so, look for you and your partners names on the board. If each presentation is 3-5 minutes we should have some time leftover to watch a quarter of a movie. Sound good?”

The class mumbled in content agreement.

“Great. If you and your partner feel like you’d like to go over your work one more time, you can practice in the hall QUIETLY, while the group before you is presenting. Alright, first up—”

And so Cyrus spent the first 15 minutes of class sitting awkwardly next to TJ as they kept looking over at each other in what was supposed to be sneaky glances but they’re kind of bad at being subtle and make contact almost every time. Eventually the people before then stand up to present and TJ turns to Cyrus.

“Hey, can we—” He whispered pointing to the hallway. Cyrus pressed his lips in a straight line attempting an awkward smile and grabbed his bag, TJ following him suite.

TJ quietly closed the door behind them and turned around.

He took a deep breath. “Um— I just wanted to apologize for how I acted the other day.”

Cyrus shifted a bit. “Okay...”

They stood in silence for a beat.

“So...”

“That was it.”

“Have you ever heard an apology? Like ever?” Cyrus tried to joke but he knew it came off more bitter than he meant it to.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.”

“So you’ve apologized for not apologizing, but you still haven’t apologized.” Cyrus stated.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re hard to apologize to?” TJ retorted.

“No, actually. This would be a first.” TJ smiled at that.

“Okay. I’m sorry for how i acted the other day. That wasn’t fair to you. I guess I just thought that if I pretended like I didn’t care it’d make things easier but I was... very wrong.”

“Yeah. No kidding.” Cyrus snorted.

TJ looked at his shoes and Cyrus stared at him. “It’s okay. I mean, I guess I understand where you were coming from but it still kind of sucked. I thought you hated me.” Cyrus said.

“I know. I’m sorry.” TJ said again.

Cyrus nodded.

A soft smiled tugged at TJ’s lips before he tore his eyes to his notebook. “Um, good job on your section by the way, I don’t get a chance to say it but yeah. Not that I thought you’d do a bad job or anything because you’re really smart and I’m actually surprised you stuck with me as your partner because—”

“Thanks, TJ.” Cyrus cut off his rambling, laughing quietly. “You did a really good job too. And you pretty much nailed all the dates too so, congratulations.”

“Ha, thanks.” TJ clearly didn’t believe him.

“Seriously Teej,” Cyrus took a step forward and put his hand on the other boys shoulder. “You should be proud of yourself.”

Cyrus saw TJ’s cheeks turning a light shade of pink s he felt his own face burn a little. If nothing else, one thing hadn’t changed— TJ still had the prettiest eyes Cyrus has ever seen.

They were interrupted by the door opening and their teachers face popped through. “You boys are up!” He whispered enthusiastically before slipping back into the room.

The boys looked at each other a again and laughed awkwardly, both still extreme shades of red but pretending they weren’t.

Their presentation actually went pretty smoothly. The biggest issue they ran into was stuttering every here and there, but this was already ten million times better than their practice run had been. Both of them quickly melted into their dynamic and everything else came pretty naturally and they were done in about 3 and a half minutes. The class snapped quietly (as to not disturb the other classes) and they both sat down, continuing the rest of class “sneaking” looks at each other and smiling when they made eye contact every time.

***

Cyrus stared at his phone while his friends talked around him at Andi’s locker. It started with Andi scolding Jonah for not being her wingman earlier on but Cyrus lost tack pretty quickly as his mind wandered back to TJ.

He was staring at his contact in his phone and debating on sending a text. On one hand, he wasn’t entirely sure where they stood now. Were they friends again? Were they just school acquaintances again? They weren’t project partners anymore so should he keep TJ’s phone number? Cyrus could already feel that he was about to drive himself crazy and just pushed aside all his thoughts and typed out a message.

Cyrus: good job on the project today!! all things considered i think we did pretty well :)

Cyrus shuts off his phone and puts it back in his pocket as he tried to ignore the part of his brain screaming at him. He heard about 3 words in the conversation unfolding before him before he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He yanked his phone back out and read the message in the screen

TJ: thanks :) i can’t take too much credit tho, you definitely carried me the whole way through

Cyrus: you’re simply incorrect. you carried me

TJ: i guess that means we carried each other then huh

Cyrus: i guess it does

“Oooooooooo, who ya textin?” Buffy sang, poking at Cyrus’s arm.

“No one!” He tried to say but the smile on his face begged to differ.

“So did you and TJ make up then?” Andi asked.

“Yeah. We talked before the presentation and it helped.” Cyrus blushed harder.

“You should invite him to the spoon with us!” Jonah proposed.

Cyrus looked at all his friends. “Really? Are you guys sure its okay?”

“Of course! Andi’s invited Amber, who’s one more gonna hurt!” Buffy replied.

“Okay...” Cyrus turned back to his phone, his friends watching him intently. Cyrus stood still and cleared his throat aggressively. Catching the hint they all turn back to their own little conversation.

“So, words amirite?” He hears Andi say.

Cyrus: my friends and i are getting some celebratory end of semester shakes at the spoon, if you’re not doing anything you can join, if you want

He clicked his phone off again pretending like nothing was happening because technically, nothing was happening. He invited his friend to get milkshakes with his friends, big whoop. Except everyone had gone silent again and was staring at Cyrus.

“What we’re you saying about words, Andi?”

“Oh, uh—”

Their fake conversation quickly turned into a very real and heated debate about phonetics which Cyrus had invested himself in hoping to forget about the fact that a full minute and a half has already passed and he still hasn’t heard anything back.

Another minute passes and Cyrus was just about ready to call it quits when he felt his pocket buzz.

TJ: sounds fun :) i’ll meet you guys there?

Cyrus: cool :)

They get to the Spoon and see Amber sitting the the largest corner booth in her normal people clothes. She stands up and waves them over with a smile on her face.

“I already ordered some baby taters but I wasn’t sure what milkshakes you guys wanted because I can never remember who likes what.” Amber said nervously as everyone took their seat.

“That’s ok. There’s one more joining us so we’ll order when he gets here.” Jonah reassured her.

“Oh, who is it?”

As if on que, the door rang as TJ stepped inside and scanned the room, and then waving excitedly when he sees Cyrus.

“You’re joking.” Amber laughs in disbelief and stands up again, making eye contact with TJ who’s face drops like hers before they both start laughing hysterically leaving everyone feeling confused and kind of left out.

“Wait... that’s...” TJ laughed before Amber shushed him.

“I didn’t realize you were talking about...” Amber started before TJ shushed her.

“Hey, what’s going on...” Buffy whispered to the two of them.

“Oh, um, Cyrus remember when I told you I have a sister—” TJ said simply, gesturing towards Amber.

Amber turned to Cyrus and smiled and waved weakly.

“No way.” Buffy said to no one in particular as she smiled widely. She was gonna have a field day with this.

Jonah looked like he was about to pee his pants trying not to laugh and Cyrus and Andi were completely stunned and just stared at each other for a second before also laughing, the rest of the group doing the same.

“I hate it here.” Amber joked as she sat down next to Andi.

“I’ve literally never been happier in my life.” Buffy laughed as she moved so TJ could sit next to Cyrus.

“Jonah, why didn’t you tell them?” Amber yelled at him.

“I THOUGHT THEY HAD FIGURED IT OUT! Cyrus has been to your house multiple times how did you not know!” Jonah yelled back.

They dissolved into more playful yelling and despite being way too loud for this little diner, Cyrus still felt happier than he had all year.

A waiter came over after they had quieted down and took their orders. Everyone started talking about something but Cyrus had noticed that TJ’s pinky was touching his own and that was all he could focus on. It was the lightest touch and yet if felt like his skin was on fire. As if that wasn’t enough, TJ must have noticed it too, because he looped his finger over Cyrus’s, making Cyrus’s face heat up involuntarily and he hoped no one had noticed. When Cyrus didn’t move away, TJ carefully flipped his hand over and intertwined the rest of their fingers. Cyrus looked at him but TJ had gone back into the conversation. Cyrus smiled at him and then tuned back in himself.

He never wanted this to end.

He was happy.

———

———

previous // next

a/n: happy boys for today me thinks 😌 the angst is finally dying down and there’s i think gonna be two more chapters (excluding the epilogue) and our boys are gonna get the happy ending they deserve but for now, they hold hands under the table at the spoon and enjoy the company of their friends. ALSO I WAS LOOSING MY MIND WRITING THE PART WHERE W TJ AND AMBER OH MY GOD i hope you enjoyed lmao

also i’m updating my tag list to make sure the notifications are getting sent and if you want to be added or taken off just lmk!!

tag list:

@secretly-of-course @abg-blah @maybeldontwantheaven @thebisexualweirdo @randomsmilingpotatoes @iam-johnlocked @ohnoitsamistake18 @im-mormon-and-not-straight @unrequitedambi @marriedtobigfoot @fairygclds @c-ristopher @tylercamebackyes @tyrus-is-canon @craftyceleb @ana-lana-ding-dong @dancinglifeboat

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

One quick question, why do you hate Before the Storm? I actually really liked it. It could be because I'm a hopeless romantic, but I just want to see your opinions on it

Oh boy, where to even begin...? I cannot stand bts... it actually hurts my insides to think about how much I hate this game haha.

[note: yeah hi uhhh... this is long because of course it is, it's coming from me but listen, my feelings for this game are not nice and I have a lot to say so.... my bad]

One of the bigger reasons, though not the biggest, is Chloe... I'm not exactly a big fan of Chloe. At all. Not in the first game, nope. I understand that so many people love her and they have their reasons for that, that's fine, she's just a character who doesn't appeal to me. If anything, she pisses me off because I can see the foundation for such a compelling character, but it all gets thrown away for the sake of bullshit.

So then they plop bts in front of us with Chloe as the playable protagonist in a prequel story about her and Rachel Amber. This is an opportunity to expand on her character, to tie into the first season and make me feel more positive feelings about her character, to do what the first game failed to do..... and to be fair, they DO have a few of them sprinkled in... but then they're overshadowed by the garbage.

It's just... the ideas are there, and they're ideas that I like but they're executed so poorly. I want to like Chloe Price, I can see that there's something good here.

Like okay.... lemme do a thing:

Chloe Price. She's going through some serious shit after her dad dies. He died unexpectedly in a car accident, something Chloe had zero control over, it's not fair, and even though it's not like the universe singled her out and said "fuck you," it feels that way to her.

On top of that, her best friend who she adores? She moves away. Not something that's in either of their control, they're kids at this point. However, Max stops contacting her and that hurts Chloe. Chloe tries to stay in contact, but eventually Max stops responding.

Then you have her mother, who's also grieving after losing her husband and dealing with her daughter pushing her away and on the wrong path. She meets a man and falls for him after realizing she still has a long life ahead of her and that's too long to be miserable over her husband's death, William wouldn't want that, and David is a source of comfort for her... something she's not getting from her daughter. The problem is that David and Chloe don't get along in the slightest... which leads to Chloe feeling like her mom is trying to replace her father by moving on, not understanding why Joyce's timeline of grief isn't the same as hers, y'know?

Oh, and can't forget that Chloe has fallen onto a not so great path of drugs, booze, bad grades, lying, staying out late without letting her mom know where she is, pickin' fights, making friends with drug dealers, stealing money and other items, all that. She's bitter, angry, unable to understand most of her own complex emotions and that only makes her even more upset. She's unable to express them in a healthy way, she doesn't ask for help, and denies it whenever offered.

So... Chloe's starts out as an extremely entitled, rude, obnoxious character. She insults the bouncer in the cringiest way possible because these adult men writing her don't know how teen girls talk, she steals money and a t-shirt from a dude who works for the band because $20? how dare? even though bands don't make a lot of money and a lot of profit comes from their merch but who cares about supporting artists you like, right? Chloe sure doesn't. She probably buys some weed from Frank because yeah, she's got a dependence on the stuff now. She gets into a fight with a couple of dudes after spilling beer on them.... but what's this?

Oh look, it's Rachel Amber. Y'know, the pretty, popular, talented, smart, perfect, charismatic girl from Chloe's school?? yeah, she's at the concert and saves Chloe from the dicks who attacked her, and the two girls spend the rest of the concert together.

Now, for some reason, Chloe isn't sure but Rachel has taken a special interest in her. Rachel is flirty, she wants to know who Chloe is, she asks her to skip school with her, and the two take a ride on a train to a park and... honestly? pretty romantic, and it plays into that escapism fantasy thing of having the pretty girl who everyone likes single you out, making you feel special.

Over time, the girls grow close. Rachel has some family problems and seeks comfort in Chloe. They spend nights walking together down empty streets at night, holding hands. They hang out and talk about the stars, they discuss Shakespeare and what it's like to actually be your true self, if there's actually such a thing. They get tattoos together, and Rachel helps Chloe color her hair. They have a special hideout they decorated together in the junkyard. Rachel spends the night at Chloe's enough that she ends up leaving a lot of clothes there. They daydream about running away together, long road trips and living big in LA.

Chloe starts to see Rachel as her angel because for the first time since Max, she feels like she has someone she can be open and honest with. Rachel almost seems too perfect to be true, y'know?

And hey, over time Chloe actually starts to kinda get her life on the right track, if not in an unconventional way. Sure, she's still dealing with losing her father. that's not something she'll just get over... but she does start making an effort with her mom, and yes, even David after he told her about his time in the army and gave her that photo. They both know they'll never be friends, and they'll still have arguments, but they'll at least keep the peace for Joyce's sake.

It's not all perfect, though. Chloe's still smoking and Rachel isn't always the best influence. They get into trouble here and there, but nothing super serious.

She dropped out of Blackwell so that her mom didn't have to keep paying her tuition and because she's fixated on this fantasy of running away with Rachel. Chloe's feeling good about herself, about her future, for the first time since her dad died.

Until Rachel disappears.

And everything goes to shit pretty quick after that. Rachel's gone, she's not answering calls or texts, and everyone keeps saying that she probably ran away, but Chloe knows better. She knows Rachel wouldn't leave without her, so something must've happened. She makes posters and puts them everywhere, but things only get worse.

Money is tight. Joyce isn't making as much as she needs at the diner, David isn't making enough as a security guard, and hey... they might lose the house... the house that was once Williams, that's a piece of him he left behind. Not only that, but where will they go?

Chloe doesn't want them to lose the house, or for her mom to be this stressed out over food and bills. Chloe borrowed money from Frank in hopes of using it to run away with Rachel, but with her missing... Chloe decides to give it to her mom in order to save the house. Joyce is alarmed that she has this much, but Chloe manages to lie her way out of it to give her mom some peace of mind.

Except now she has another problem- she can't pay Frank back and he's getting more aggressive about it as the weeks go on. Rachel's still missing, Frank's breathing down her neck with threats toward her mom, money is still an issue at home, and she's not in a good place. Chloe's desperate enough to steal... so when she makes it into a bar that doesn't card her and she sees rich boy Nathan Prescott drunk off his ass and flashing bills, she thinks it'll be an easy score. It's wrong to do this, it's dangerous, but Chloe justifies it to herself. She needs that money.

She didn't expect Nathan to drug her drink, and she wakes up to him taking pictures of her. She manages to get the hell outta there, but she still has no idea what the hell happened to her. Like.... that reeeally fucks with her, it doesn't even feel real. She can't tell anyone, she can't tell her mom, and the police won't do anything since they're under the Prescott thumb.... and well, she decides to blackmail him.

And we all know how that goes.

So... we have the highs and lows of Chloe Price. She's flawed, even starting out as unbearable, but over time she becomes more nuanced and you're invested in what happens to her. You want to see her better herself, you want her to work through her grief and get help, you understand why she hates David but when you see him and Joyce happy together and him make an effort to be better, you want to see them make amends. You know David doesn't want to replace William, hell HE knows no one ever could.

You want Chloe to keep going, to find purpose in her life and realize her own potential. You saw her at the beginning when she was broken, when she was lost and didn't see a future for herself, and it's satisfying to see her come this far to where she knows she has a future... something that becomes all the more tragic when you remember her fate in the first game.

You're invested in Chloe and Rachel's romance, you get giddy watching them flirt and do dumb, romantic, cliche things, and you're just as compelled by Rachel as everyone else. No, she's not perfect, she's not a stereotype, she's much more layered than that and it only breaks your heart when you realize that she's killed later on, that of course she's going to go missing... you already know that! So you're watching Chloe, who has gotten pieces of her life back together and is genuinely happy.... fall back down the pit, fall back into the habits she had at the beginning, and you know it will lead to her downfall.

.....TOO BAD BEFORE THE STORM DID FUCK ALL WITH THAT RIGHT?

Nope, you don't get any of that. Well, except Chloe being cringy. You get a lot of that.

No, no, we got edgelord, flanderized Chloe who thinks her wit is much greater than it actually is, whose terrible moments outweigh the good, and who doesn't grow or change no matter what influence you try to have over her.

Rachel could be replaced with a literal barbie doll and little would change. She has no charm, she's nothing like what she was described in the first game, and she's just so fucking unlikable. When she finds out that her mom isn't actually her birth mom, she claims that her whole life is a lie and her parents aren't real and she wants to meet her druggie mom who chose drugs over her for 15 years because she's the one who actually squeezed her out.

Which, by the way, WHY is this the goddamn plot?? Why did they feel like they had to shove in this "oh hey Rachel's dad is the bad guy, oh wait now this drug guy is the bad guy because he stabby Rachel, no wait now her dad is the super bad guy because he put a hit out on Rachel's REAL mom, oh no wait it's fine because Frank murdered drug man off screen" WHY YOU DO THIS??

You have three episodes. THREE. And in those three episodes, you have the opportunity to explore Chloe as a character, and her relationships with Rachel, Joyce, and David. But instead of dedicating the story to that, something you could've created a compelling narrative out of, you threw in this dumb mom plot and fire-

HOW THE HELL DID I FORGET THE FIRE????

What- why did- does she have- Rachel just- RACHEL SETS THE FOREST ON FIRE??? WHY THOUGH???

I get it, "Rachel is the fire" yeah yeah and it's dumb.

Oh and because we didn't have enough going on, here's a side mission where you gotta deal with getting money from this other kid who's running drugs for big bad drug man because he wants to help his dad who lost his job.

But WAIT, there's more- In a series where several girls were drugged by Nathan and Jefferson, forced to pose for pictures, and some even killed or driven to try and take their own life? something taken so seriously...? Victoria gets drugged and it's treated like a joke. Even worse, there is a path that has Rachel drugging her, and no one cares.

ALSO.... Rachel cheated on Chloe with two adult men, remember? One of which fucking murders her?? and we're just... we're just not gonna do anything with that??? Nothing??? Maybe a little stinger at the end but that's it????

I just..... I hate this game so much.

It had so much potential. Not only that, but it had the first game to look at and learn from. Learn from the mistakes that game made and improve upon.... but instead, they fucked up even worse. It's just a game of fanservice that has way too much going on, is trying to do too much, and loses focus on the most important things.

Three episodes could've been enough to explore different points of Chloe's character before the events of the first game. They could've crafted a story that gave more insight into her life that make sense of the choices she made, that turn her into the Chloe we see in the first game. You don't need a forest fire, you don't need evil lawyers. I know the first game had the storm and time travel and big dumb Jefferson, but you wanted to tell a story that's grounded without shit like that... y'know, before the storm.

I could probably go on and on if someone doesn't stop me, so I'll stop myself here... I hate bts because it's potential was there, I could see it in a few key moments, and it was wasted.

The romantic ideas fall flat because being pretty and gay isn't enough for me, I need more than that. I don't care if they kiss because I don't care about their relationship, and frankly, they've done very little to make me care about them as individuals.

UGH

.......does that answer your quick question? haha sorry for the not so quick answer, but like I said, this game makes my brain mad and once I get going, it's hard to stop.

[nxrthmizu]

| snakes | Suna Rintarou

»»——⍟——««

song | Trust Fund Baby - Why Don’t We 

pairing | Suna Rintarou x Reader 

words | 1.8k 

warning(s) | The reader has undertones of someone who’s sort of mean and sadistic? The story also relates the reader to a snake. I like snakes. I think they’re cool. But if you’re scared of snakes and you’re uncomfortable with the idea of being referenced to a snake,,, don’t read, I guess?  

author’s note | I rewrote this five fricking times and I still hate it but I’m not writing this again so have this 

»»——⍟——«« 

Confidence. 

He could feel it radiating off you in waves. Your presence diffused into the gym, alerting every person in the room of your arrival. Attention was drawn to you like moths were drawn to the light, every pair of eyes magnetised to your form by the gym door. 

Kita instantly rushed over to greet you politely, the details of your conversation too far away to be heard. For a brief moment, Suna registered just how well the two of you looked together. 

L/N Y/N, the representative and top student of his class, the newly-elected second-year secretary of the student council. No one doubted that you would take the president position in your third year, not with the ‘perfect student’ image you had going on. 

Kita Shinsuke, also top in grades, captain of the volleyball club, well-liked by the staff and students alike due to his politeness and nature. 

The two of you looked like a perfect imitation of what a modern royalty would be like. A combination of grace, elegance, and a face that was hardly fazed by anything. Something similar to bitterness ate away in the bottom of Suna’s heart as he turned away, muttering about putting more practice into his blocks. 

“What was she looking for you for?” He overheard Aran asking. 

“Oh, she’s filling in some missing information for our club. She came over to clarify some details.” Kita answered easily. 

Suna wasn’t really surprised when a couple third years, belonging to the student council committee- Showed up on the doorsteps of your shared class, asking to see you. Later on, he learned that the entire council body had brought up your name when asked which second-year should be elected as the secretary. You were well-known, even among the third years, as someone who possessed high intellect and organisation abilities, so it wasn’t a shock that your name was the one that nearly everyone suggested. 

If only they knew. 

If only they knew that you weren’t completely that ‘perfect student’ act that you’d put up. 

If only they knew just how cunning, sly, and sarcastic you really were. 

»»——⍟——««

If Suna had to describe you in one word, it would be snake. 

You were the definition of elegance, grace, and beauty. Every movement you made was meticulously calculated and not a single joule of energy was wasted or passed off as inefficiently used. There was never a hair out of place, and your skirt was never creased, no matter how long you had been sitting at your seat. 

Of course, Suna hadn’t always thought of you as a snake. It was only after that one fine summer day in his first year that his perception of you took a 180 turn, revealing to him what you truly were like. 

He had been on his way home, bag slung over his shoulder, when he caught the slight noise that seemed like a whimper. Never one to leave his nose out of someone else’s business, Suna slunk around, careful to stick to the shadows until the shocking sight befell his eyes. 

“So, you’re the one who’s been bullying [your brother’s name]?” The voice that dripped from your lips was distasteful, as if the junior high student that you had cornered in the alley was a filthy peasant compared to your royal status. “You don’t look very fierce now, do you?” 

If sarcasm was an art, then you’d probably be a DaVinci-level expert. He would even go as far as calling you a prodigy. And if there was a championship for the world’s most sarcastic human being, he would instantly sign you up. There was no doubt that you’d take home the no.1 trophy in that category (not that you weren’t already taking home trophies in other competitions, of course, he overheard that you recently dominated an advanced maths competition). 

“I— I’m sorry!” The student shivered under your piercing gaze. “I— I won’t touch him again, I promise—!” 

The laugh you responded with was overly sweet, combined with something from a Disney movie villain. If the movie also, by chance, happened to have ‘horror’ as its’ genre. Your eyes carried a maniacal threat that Suna believed wholeheartedly that you were capable of carrying out. “Bold of you to assume I’d even let you do it again.” You whispered, just loud enough for Suna to catch your words. 

The junior high student scrambled off, too busy getting away to notice Suna by the entrance of the alley. He slipped away before you reappeared at the beginning of the alley, having fixed your hair and flattened your skirt. 

You looked like a snake that had just finished a very satisfying meal. Suna could hardly believe that he had just heard you— the pride and joy of every teacher, the ‘perfect student’— spitting insults and threats at 200 words per minute, all while maintaining a ‘polite’ and ‘sweet’ tone. 

He was a little breathless after the whole ordeal. He could barely imagine what you would say to him if you’d caught him listening— But damn, part of him wanted to find out if he could withstand your literature-form venom. Truly, you were a snake— A creature that could hold its’ elegance even as your tore your prey apart (verbally). 

Suna always liked snakes. 

»»——⍟——««

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with L/N, Kita.” Aran teased, Suna overhearing as he stepped into the locker room for morning practice. Freezing in his tracks, the middle blocker curved right round the bend, staying out of sight. “There’s been a lot of rumours about how nice the two of you look together.” 

The volleyball captain only hummed in response, which, for some reason, pissed the hell out of Suna. 

“Come on, tell me something.” The other third-year complained. “She’s really pretty, I’d totally see why you’d go for her.” 

Something about the situation made Suna’s blood boil. He bit back his rising anger, setting aside the cause for the moment. Why was he getting so riled up? He never cared much about things in general, anyway, so... So why was the image of you and Kita, matching polite smiles on your lips— Why did it make him so furious he had to physically resist the urge to punch a wall? 

“The two of you do look nice together, though.” Aran continued as Suna pushed down the urge to strangle his upperclass-man. “Gives me the vibes of—” 

Before Aran could finish his sentence, the dark-haired middle blocker marched into the locker room, apologising for how loudly he had slammed the door open. “Sorry.” He drawled lazily, restraining the lava-hot anger in his blood. “I pushed too hard.” 

»»——⍟——««

You didn’t even blink, much less jump when Suna appeared abruptly by your desk. Instead, you simply set down your pencil and gave him a warm smile. “Can I help you with something?” 

Ever the helpful class president, Suna bit back to himself. No, no, he wanted you to like him. Not get a bad impression of him. “Do you... Think you could help me with the physics homework?” 

“It’s due tomorrow.” You said slowly, both of you aware that the assignment was well over forty pages. “Have you... Tried it?” 

“Yes.” He answered. “I’ve got a few questions I need help with. Are you free to stay back today?” 

This raised a tentative eyebrow from you. “Don’t you have volleyball practice?” 

Dammit, why did you have to have such a good memory. 

“Academics are more important than the club sometimes.” He shrugged. “I’ve got permission to skip.” No, he didn’t. 

“Alright then. I’ll meet you in the library after school.” 

»»——⍟——««

He watched you through hooded eyes as you reviewed his work. So you did know how to let loose, Suna murmured to himself in amusement, eyeing your untucked blouse and the beige sweater you’d thrown on in a defence against the library’s air-conditioning. 

“You’ve got most of the parts down, which bits do you need help with?” 

The rest of the time was spent going over the questions, your patience filling the silence along with his occasional ‘ohs’. Your handwriting flooded through his homework in neat rows, providing an easy-to-follow, step-by-step guide on how to work through the questions, for revision purposes. 

“So.” 

You broke the silence, the two of you walking side by side, leaving the school together because he offered to buy you some food as a payment for the tutoring. 

“Are you going to tell me why you faked confusion and asked me to tutor you?” 

He winced. How could he forget that you were always straight to the point? 

“What do you mean?” The look on your face clearly said ‘feigning ignorance, eh?’. 

“I’m going to be frank with you,” You deadpanned. “You’re among the best at physics in our class. Some of the questions you asked me to help you through were ones that had been discussed in classes, and I know that you are listening even though you have your head on the table.” 

Alright, so he had under-predicted exactly how observant and attentive you were. 

“Then why did you agree to help me?” 

“You saw me that day, didn’t you?” 

He stopped walking. “Which day?” 

“That day. In our first year. When I threatened that junior high kid in the alley.” You stopped too, to turn your expressionless gaze on him. “You’ve looked at me differently since that day. I heard someone else’s breathing at the alley, but I didn’t see anyone so I figured they’d ran. I guessed it was you.” 

“... Yeah.” 

“You don’t seem to mind.” 

“Mind what?” 

“The fact that this...” You gestured to yourself. “Is a lie. This whole ‘perfect student’ image is an act that I put up to please my parents. I’m actually someone who has really mean thoughts. I could be a really toxic friend. I’m also probably a sadist.” 

Suna blinked quietly at you, running your words through his head a couple more times for good measure. “You remind me of a snake.”

In that one sentence, you realised that if there was one person in the world that was going to be fine with your personality the way it was, that person would probably be Suna Rintarou. The two of you continued your walk to the takoyaki shop Suna offered to buy you food from, continuing meaningless chatter on the journey. 

“Is that a good or bad thing?” 

“I like snakes.” 

“That’s cool. Me too.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know, I think they’re pretty cool. They’re like spiders, except they’re not insects. I don’t like insects very much.” 

“Hmm. I like snakes cause I think they’re really elegant. And pretty.” He paused for a moment. “Like you.” 

»»——⍟——««

taglist. @mrs-kuroojinguji @procrastination-lady @miel-meraki @shoyosun @aka-a-shii @shibayamasbae @churochuu @seijohlogy @dearsukuna @whootwhoot

Haikyuu!! gen taglist. @owlywrites @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @our-tall-slytherin-queen

[keytomythoughts]

Perfection Imperfections | Chapter 1

Chapter Index 

»»—————————————-　

Finally, summer break. It’s been a while since I was able to go home. Having to attend high school rather far from my home in Seoul, I never thought that I’d adjust to the new environment. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely alone, since I stayed with my aunt for the four years of my high school life. School wasn’t so bad, but the homesickness is what killed it for me. Even though it was my parents' idea to send me a rather vast distance—me not being too excited about it, but I knew I wouldn’t get my way in the end—there was some good that came from it. The two only good things, actually. 

I glance outside the train window, the buildings of Busan zooming past me. Sure, it may not be my home, but I won’t lie. I’m really going to miss this place. My phone suddenly vibrates in my lap, glancing down to see a text from my group chat, smiling as I respond.

(Binnie)

R u still on the train?

                                                               Yeah have been for the past like 30 mins

(Eunuwu) 

Going back to ur parents? Or r u moving out?

                                                                                                                      Funny

                                                                        Yk I can’t move out, at least not on                                                                            my own. My parents won’t allow it

(Binnie)

:/

What about Jaehyun?

                                                                            Idk, they rlly dc what he does tbh

                                                                       They’re just hell-bent on me getting                                                                                    into the top schools and shit

(Eunuwu)

Damn, rough

                                                                                                                        Mhm

(Binnie)

Try talking to them, u never know

They might change their minds?

                                                                 Nah, I already know how it’s gonna end

                                                                         Me crying and stuffing myself with                                                                           pints of ice cream

(Eunuwu)

Doesn't sound so bad

(Binnie)

¬_¬

(Eunuwu)

Except for the crying part ofc

But c’mon it cant really be THAT bad

I’ve been over plenty of times, they seem nice

(Binnie)

U’ve been to her house??

                                                                         Yeah him and oppa are friends too

(Binnie)

Righttt forgot lol

                                                                  And that’s bc you were there dumbass                                                                    and half of the time ur either in oppa’s                                                                    room or out somewhere

                                                                  Interaction with my parents = minimal

(Binnie)

That sounds awful ngl :( sorry Hyuna

But hey we should all hang soon!

(Eunuwu)

I’ll be in Seoul for the summer too so y not?

                                                                                                           I miss y’all :’(

                                                                   Ok I should be there around like 5 ish                                                                     so I’ll text then

(Binnie)

Aww I miss u toooo 

(Eunuwu)

*puke*

                                                                                           Shut up, ur just jealous

(Eunuwu)

Me? Jealous?? Of what, ur face?

Yea no thx, Ive got a great face already

And personality 0:)

                                                                               Gr8, explains why ur still single

(Binnie)

LOLL

She got u there bro

(Eunuwu)

Shut up

Ur talking as if u’ve got a gf

Idiot

(Binnie)

At least I didnt reject them as coldly as u did lol 

                                                                                             See? My point exactly

                                                                               Your fAcE scared off every girl                                                                                   in sight bc of tht pErSoNaLiTy

                                                                           I almost feel bad for them, u little                                                                             heart breaker

(Binnie)

He made a couple of em cry I heard

                                                                                                                     Rlly?!?

                                                                                                                         YAH

                                                                                                               U MORON

(Eunuwu)

Bin wtf

(Binnie)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

                                                                                    U JERK HOW COULD U??

                                                                                              Those poor girls omg

                                                                               Im so kicking ur ass when I c u

(Binnie)

Me 2

(Eunuwu)

Wtf?? Y???

(Binnie)

No reason lol, just feel like it

                                                                                         And this is why ily Binnie

(Binnie)

:D <3

(Eunuwu)

GROSS

                                                                                                        Can it u demon

                                                                                                         Read 4:02 PM

I snort, turning off my phone and placing it back down on my lap as I go back to staring outside my left-hand window again. Meet Cha Eunwoo and Moon Bin, my two best friends. The only reason I got through high school how I did without major setbacks. Sure, there was the occasional homesickness and all, but had I not met these two, I probably wouldn’t have even attended and graduated. 

Being so far away from the place I grew up never really suited me, and they saw it right away from day one how lonely and upset I looked. I didn't seem to fit in, especially since I skipped a grade and was placed in classes that were very advanced for me. Not that I minded the vigor, but it was hard for me to socialize, let alone make friends. 

That’s when I met them. Freshman year in homeroom before my first literature class. Moon Bin, a boy with parted, coppery-golden hair accompanied by his shy, puppy-eye smile and sweet nature, offered me an empty seat next to him in class, even going as far as to share his textbook and asking how I found the school. No doubt, I was embarrassed and immensely shy, stuttering over my words and failing to meet his soft gaze. However, he didn’t make fun of me nor find me odd. All he did was smile, laughing lightly at my slightly flustered state. He stuck his hand out, introducing himself (most people just call him Moonbin or Bin) with that smile of his, thus the start of our new friendship. Since then, he became someone who always knew how to cheer me up when I was feeling down. No moment was ever dull with him by my side. 

Eunwoo, the tall, brooding black-haired and charismatic student almost everyone knew (and crushed on) of, was usually with Moonbin when we hung out together, but he normally kept to himself. Though quiet and sometimes reserved with his intimidating looks, it didn’t take long for him to break the ice with us, the three of us becoming close friends. Promising to stay like this until we went to college and beyond. Regardless if we all diverge and tread different paths, we would always converge and come back to one another. 

Four years flew by and graduation was upon us. Just like that, the two became like family to me, my ride-or-die duo. The two who were able to turn my world upside down, finding solace in a time where I thought it was nearly impossible for me to.  

My thoughts are interrupted by my “Move” ringtone—yes, I’m a huge Lee Taemin fan—looking down at my phone again to see it’s my brother calling. I sigh, picking up the call.

“What?” 

He gasps dramatically. “Is that any way to address your loving older brother after being away for so long?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Loving my ass, oppa. How are mom and dad?”

“They’re fine, living. Didn’t you tell them you’re coming home?”

“Nope, I don’t even text them that often. You already know this..”

He sighs. “Yeah, I figured.” 

There’s a slight pause on his end, but he continues. “You took the three-thirty train, right? So you’ll be here around five or so?”

“Yeah, give or take.” 

I look out the window again to see the endless stretch of greenery and flowing springs, sometimes even children playing in the fields. I grin mischievously, deciding to poke fun at my brother when he doesn’t respond right away. 

“What, you miss me?”

He makes a sound similar to throwing up. “As if. I got so used to the peace and quiet. I’m not ready for it to go away.” 

“Yah!” I realize that I had yelled a bit too loudly and eyes were now trained on me, and I bow my head in apology. I lower my voice, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, I know, but you still love me anyway.”

“Shut up.”

I can hear his laugh resonate through the phone and a smile unknowingly tugs at my lips. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but it’s true. When I lived with my aunt in Busan for the duration of high school, I missed Jaehyun a lot. Though two years older than me, he didn’t seem to alienate me the way my parents do. While I hate the notion that they spoil Jaehyun endlessly and let him do as he wishes, I won’t lie and say that he was a prick about it. He could’ve been, but he never came off as selfish. I’m really close with my brother, shocking as it may be. Sibling relationships are like that—one minute you want to strangle them with their intestines and the next you’re singing duets together. Crazy, but that’s how it is for us. My parents don’t really pay me any attention, so Jaehyun decides to do that instead. Not complaining though. I’d rather take his pranking and teasing over my parents’ demands and reprimands any day.

“Aight, I’m heading out for a bit. Text me when you arrive.”

I smile again. “Will do, but make sure to get me food!”

“Let me think…” He hums, and I can practically sense the smirk on his end. “Nope. Get your own.”

“Oppa!”

Jaehyun laughs. “See you in a bit, Hyuna. Get here safely. Bye!”   

He hangs up the call before I get a chance to retort, and I scoff. Typical of my brother. He knows how much I enjoy street food, and every time he goes out, it’s almost certain that most of the time he stops somewhere to eat. Did he ever bring food back? Sure, but by the time I’d get to it, most of it was gone anyways. That only lasted a little while before I had gone upstate anyways, so he had more food for himself, I guess.

As the train barrels down the tracks, I feel my heart racing in excitement, but there’s also a slight ounce of dread. I really don’t know why. I want to believe it’s because I’ve been away for too long, but part of me knows it’s the fact that I’ll have to face my parents again. Knowing that I only have two months to decide where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, I know the bitter truth is that those decisions won’t be left up to me. Last time, I was sent to Busan.

God knows where I’d be sent to now.

***

“Final destination of the KTX Busan-Seoul train at Seoul Station is approaching and will arrive at 05:30 PM. The doors to alight are on the right hand side. All passengers are requested to dismount the train upon arrival. Thank you.” 

That’s my stop.

Gathering my bag and hand luggage, I patiently wait for the train to pull up at the station. Seeing the familiar shops and buildings around me makes my legs bounce up and down in both excitement and anticipation. 

Four long years away from Seoul...

Before getting off, I quickly text the group chat and then my brother, letting them all know that I’ve reached safely. Side-stepping the other passengers exiting the subway doors, I carefully land onto the platform with my luggage in tow. I breathe in the air around as I stretch my arms up into the sky, the grin widening on my face.

It sure as hell feels good to be back home.

I try my best to maneuver through the crowds, but it doesn’t stop the rush of people knocking into me. At times like these, I curse my genetics for favoring my older brother instead of me in terms of height. Eventually, I come to a clearing and when my eyes glance upwards, I spot a rather familiar dark brown-haired six-foot-tall male amongst the small crowd waving me over.

“Hyuna, over here!”

I gasp, my eyes widening. “Oppa!”

He smiles as I begin walking towards him, my feet hurriedly moving across the concrete. The distance between us shortens and I abandon my luggage as he opens his arms wide. 

Only for me to sucker punch him in the stomach.

He yelps in pain, grimacing as he holds his abdomen. “Shit, that hurt. What has Aunt Sua been feeding you up there? Rocks?”

I smack his shoulder, my blood slightly boiling in anger. “Yah, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! Do you know how much money I blew off for the bus fare?”

He straightens his back before going to rub his shoulder, then behind his neck.

“Fine, fine. My bad. I wanted to surprise you, but I guess that didn’t work, did it?” 

I cross my arms over my chest, huffing in annoyance. He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll compensate you. Dinner’s on me.”

At this I grin, blinking excitedly. I grab onto his arm and shake it vigorously. “Really? You mean it? You’re the best, oppa!” 

“Look at this brat..” he taunts, shaking his head. In a flash, he headlocks me and rubs the top of my head harshly with his knuckles, upsetting the neatly-tied auburn ponytail. 

“Yah! Quit it!” I smack his arms and flail in protest, but he chuckles, saying this is what I get for cunningly finding a way to exploit him the minute I stepped back into Seoul. 

What can I say? It’s a talent. 

He lets go eventually, and I try to smooth down my already-tangled hair. I grumble incoherently but Jaehyun pulls me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me. His free hand gently pats the side of my head in comfort.

“Welcome home, sis.”

I stand there stiff for a second before hugging back. He squeezes me tighter and I find myself smiling into his shoulder. 

“Good to be back,” I whisper. 

We stand like that for a moment before he pats my back a couple of times, us pulling away from each other soon after. He reaches behind me to grab my hand luggage as he shoulders my bag. I tell him that I can carry them just fine, but he starts walking away from the platform to the parking lot. I call out after him as I run to catch up, and I can see the corners of his mouth twitch. Jaehyun leads me to his car, a sleek matte-silver convertible Mustang. My mouth drops open in shock at its stunning beauty, my body forcing itself to remain composed for the sake of avoiding public self-embarrassment. 

He throws my luggage in the back seat before he turns to me, smirking at my expression. “You like it?”

“Shit, do I like it? I love it!” I run my fingers over its metallic surface, the silver exterior gleaming in the evening glow. Grinning, I stare up at my brother who catches my gaze as I stand next to the driver’s seat, my fingers already curled on the handle.

“Can I—”

“No.”

“Please—”

“Nope.”

I pout as I pull my hand away and step to the side. Jaehyun chuckles, rubbing my head playfully before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The engine purrs to life as my brother pulls out his shades and wears them. He looks at me and cocks his head to the passenger seat. 

“Don’t just stand there. Get in.”

Smiling, I quickly make my way over to the other side and slip into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle in before Jaehyun speeds off. I scream in fright, but he laughs heartily, telling me to let loose.

With the wind harshly whipping around us, I close my eyes and tilt my head upwards, absorbing the remnants of my childhood in a place I’ll always call home. A place where my heart always feels at ease.

My name is Jung Hyuna. I’m eighteen years old, and this is my story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |  

[unholyobsessions]

We say we’re friends

Pairing: Julie Molina x Reader

Description: You didn’t like Julie Molina at first, but then you became friends and suddenly you wanted to become more. 

Requested: No

A/N: dedicated to amazingly wonderful @theolivekiddo​ Happy Birthday! I love you and I hope you had the bestest time because you deserve it.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.0K

Masterlist

You meet Julie Molina freshmen year when you are assigned as lab partners. Both of you are extremely annoyed by the teachers decision for the sole reason that Julie wanted to be paired with Flynn and you wanted to be paired with your best friend, Reggie. 

Really, it’s not that bad, and you had never disliked Julie but the situation makes you bitter and all you find yourself doing is sending glares her way. Julie isn’t much different and responds with a roll of her eyes and sometimes a hard kick to your chair. 

You avoid speaking to each other as long as possible, only mumbling a few words of instruction during lab work. Of course, the utter lack of communication leads to your grade plummeting and you assume Julie’s as well. You keep telling yourself that it’s fine, you’ll make it up with tests, but that plan is quickly thrown away when your teacher says that this semester’s grade is going to be largely based on projects. 

You accept the fact the you are going to fail, determined to go the full year without speaking to Julie. 

But then you hear her humming your favorite song. 

You unconsciously start tapping your foot to the beat of the song. Julie’s head snaps toward you but you pay her no mind as you continue to copy your notes. She starts humming louder and your pen joins your foot in tapping. 

By this point, you’re both smiling widely and swaying side to side in makeshift dance moves. Your humming joins hers and her fingers moves against the table, visualizing the piano keys and playing the correct ones. 

Once the song comes to an end, you burst out into a fit of giggles, attracting the attention of the rest of the class. The teacher shushes you which causes you to laugh harder as Julie leans against your shoulder in an effort to catch her breath. 

Flynn and Reggie, who are sitting at opposite ends of the classroom stare wide eyed at each other, neither expecting to see both of you be actually friendly to each other. 

At the end of the lesson you exchange phone numbers and, for the first time all year, you begin to look forward to science. 

Your friendship progresses slowly after that. At first, you and Julie don’t hang out much outside of academic needs. You get together to study and do homework for science class but never for the sole purpose of hanging out. 

One day, you need to borrow her lab notes after missing school the day before, so you approach her lunch table, where Julie sits with Flynn and Alex Mercer everyday. She invites you to sit down, and with your breath caught in your throat, you simply nod your head and take the seat next to her. 

Your friends, Reggie Peters and Luke Patterson, who arrive to lunch five minutes late as usual, freeze at the doorway when they realize you are not sitting at your usual table. Their eyes scan over the crowded cafeteria and once they see you they invite themselves over, sitting down and quickly striking conversation with Alex, who they know from their homeroom. 

It starts to become a weekly occurrence for the three of you to join Julie’s table for lunch. Then it starts happening twice a week, then three, and eventually you stop referring to it as Julie’s table. 

It doesn’t take long for Julie and the Phantoms to be born. After the first time Julie invite all of you to hang out at her place, Reggie and Luke are left starstruck at the amount of instruments around the studio. 

“You play?” You ask, knowing your best friends are be incapable of forming coherent sentence. 

“Yeah. I play the piano, Alex plays the drums, hence the drum set by the corner,” Julie responds. 

You turn to Luke and Reggie, a clear smile on your face. They had always wanted to form a band, but your lack of musical ability left them with no one to form it with. You can see the gears turning in their heads and after a few seconds Luke asks the question. 

“Do you want to form a band?” 

. . .

Their first gig goes amazing and you find yourself staring at Julie. You had seen her perform before, having attended every single one of their practices, but never in front of an audience. She’s electrifying on stage, you quickly realize. Your hearts speeds up every time she makes eye contact with you and as sings her heart out to the lyrics she spent countless nights writing, you wish she was singing to you. 

You snap out of your daze once their set is over and Flynn pulls you backstage where Reggie and Luke squeeze you in a hug. Joyous laughter escapes you lips and you meet Julie’s eyes over Luke’s shoulder. She smiles widely at you and you suddenly can’t breathe. 

I’m screwed, you think.  

. . .

You’re not a subtle person, quite the opposite actually. So it takes about a week for everyone to realize your newfound feelings for Julie. Well everyone except Julie herself. 

Science class is spent staring at her from the corner of your eyes. During lunch you always rush to take the seat next to her and you look for any excuse to grab her hand. Whenever you’re in a bad mood, a smile from Julie will immediately lighten your day and prompt you to walk with a skip in your step. 

The first to approach you about it is Reggie as you are walking out of science. He pulls you away from Julie and into an empty corridor, dragging you away by the wrist. 

With a deep frown you pull your arm from Reggie’s grasp. “What?”

Not wanting to waste any time, he gets right to it. “You have a crush a Julie.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, a known fact of the universe. 

Heat rushes to your face and you struggle to stutter out a response. “Uh-me? No! Why- wait. Why would you-“

“Save it,” He cuts you off. “You’re about as subtle as a moose-“

“A moose?” He raises his hand to silence you and you snap your mouth shut. 

“You need to tell her,” he said in a matter of factly. 

You raise your eyebrows and let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, not gonna happen. I’ll just make things weird. I’m at a good place right now and that is where I need to stay.” 

Reggie’s eyes soften. “Y/n,” He says and you recognize the tone quickly. 

You shake you head. “No. Reginald drop it.” With that said, you turn on your heel, ignoring Reggie’s words of encouragement coming from behind you. 

On the other side of the school, Flynn is having a very similar conversation with Julie. 

“You should just tell them how you feel!” Flynn practically begged her best friend. 

“They don’t like me that way. I’ll just embarrass myself and ruin our friendship. It is better if I just left things as they are.” Julie looks down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. Her eyes spot a bright purple happy face on the edge of her left shoe and smiles, remembering exactly who drew it. 

“Jules,” her friend states softly. Julie looks up reluctantly and meets Flynn’s kind gaze. “You won’t know if you don’t try.”  

The bell rings from above them and Julie breaks eye contact. “I have to go.” Her steps echo loudly in the empty hallway as she hurries off to her last period.

Reggie suddenly appears at Flynn’s side, startling her. “So what’s the plan?”

Flynn releases a loud sigh, the gears turning in her brain. “I think I have an idea.” 

. . .

For Flynn’s plan to be put into motion, they needed to wait for the perfect moment. Your birthday. 

Normally you spent the morning of your birthday with your parents and would later meet up with Reggie and Luke. This year, however, your friends were adamant about throwing you a party. So at about noon, Flynn shows up at your doorstep with the intention of keeping you entertained until the party is set to begin later that day. 

You lean into her happily as she wraps an arm around your shoulder, letting her guide you to the mall in order to find “the perfect outfit.” 

Four hours, two iced coffees, and a lot of stores later, you’re standing in Flynn’s bathroom, changing into your new clothes and running your hands through your hair in attempt to make it look presentable.  

A knock on the door halts your movements and you take a deep breath, opening the door and smiling at Flynn. 

“Y/n you look amazing!” She jumps up and down happily and you smile back, her excitement rubbing off on you. You have no idea what your friends plan so you keep your eyes peeled as Flynn drives you to Julie’s house, where you are able to see different colored lights emitting from the backyard. 

“Woah,” you say under your breath. Flynn sends a quick text to Reggie before guiding you out of the car. As you open the fence to the backyard, you hear the swift playing of piano keys that you instantly recognize as Julie.

Your eyes meet hers from across the yard and for the rest of the song, they stay connected. When asked later on about it, you would be unable to say which song they played. All you can focus on is Julie’s clear and powerful voice singing the lyrics directly to you. Eventually, guitars and drums join the piano playing but to you it’s just background noise. 

The song comes to an end and you realize that you’re not alone. The yard is filled with people from your year and Flynn pushes you through the crowd, everyone calling out greetings and happy birthdays. You respond kindly and excitedly, questioning when your friends had the time to put this together.

Once you reach the front of the make shift stage, which is just a raised platform in front of the studio doors, your eyes meet Julie’s again. Luke starts strumming his acoustic, leaning into his microphone and leading the whole party through his very own rendition of Happy Birthday, that everyone has come to know after years of being in the same school. 

Reggie pulls you to the stage and conveniently placing you next to Julie. She leans forward and grabs your hand, the last words of the song coming out in a whisper. 

“Happy Birthday,” she says, leaning her forehead against your own. 

You smile and your eyes glance down to her lips unconsciously, and you can faintly hear her swallow nervously. You wait a beat and, as if you can read each other’s minds, you both lean in at the same time. Your lips meet in a quick peck both pulling away in shock that it actually happened before leaning back in, more confidently this time. This being both of your first kiss, it’s messy and only slightly awkward, with neither of you knowing exactly what you are doing or if you’re even doing it right. 

And it’s perfect.

When you pull away for the second time there’s a moment of silence before there are cheers all around you. Alex is pulling out his wallet and handing Luke twenty dollars and Reggie and Flynn are jumping up and down together. 

You roll your eyes before looking back at Julie. You build up enough confidence to say what you have been thinking. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” you whisper, not wanting anyone besides her to hear. Julie’s answer surprises you more than the kiss itself. 

“Me too.” A small giggle escapes her lips once she says it, and a relived laugh escapes yours. 

“Can we do it again?” You risk asking. She nods before you’re even finished speaking. 

“Please.” With a small smile you place a hand on her cheek and pull her face closer to yours, closing the gap between you once again. 

The cheers ring louder in your ears and as you pull away you can’t help but saying, “Best birthday ever.”