#he only hated his brother because his brother hated him

[teaboot]

One time my mom took me to a hibachi grill with a bunch of her friends and if you've never been to a hibachi grill basically the draw is that theres a bunch of interactive performance stuff done by the cook who cooks for you at your table, and one of the tricks they did at this one was take a squeeze bottle full of liquor and shoot it into your mouth across the table (with permission)

And now at our table my mom explained this because it was my first time going, and she wanted to make sure to warn me it was liquor because she knows I don't drink- she just said "if he offers to shoot at your mouth, say no because it's alcohol".

And so the chef does his thing and it's all very impressive, but the time does come where he pulls out this squeeze bottle of booze and asks me if I wanna try

I of course say no, because I really don't do alcohol, so he moves on to someone else

And I watch, and slowly come to understand that this is some sort of game, because once someone is drinking from the continuous flow the chef starts counting "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

I realize that we're trying to see who can keep drinking the liquor from three feet away without choking or spilling, and its a bummer cause i kinda wanna try and I CAN'T

But he goes around the table with everyone there, and I think my mom makes it to three, one friend makes it to five, I think my brother got to three as well, and he comes back to me

And I'm REALLY bummed out now but I will not drink alcohol, so I sort of sadly repeat that I can't when he pulls out a SECOND BOTTLE and grins and goes "juice?"

And Im like FUCK YEAH LET'S GO and I'm a bit worried he's gonna spray it into my eye or something but he doesn't, it hits me right at the back of the throat, and I start drinking while the whole fucking table counts "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

And like

It just sorta

Kept going?

And Im looking at the chef and he starts freaking out by the time we get to six, and at around seven I kinda start looking around and my auntie is staring back in shock, my brother is laughing his ass off and my mom has her face in her hands

And then at like nine or ten it gets like. Super tense and quiet, and only the chef is still counting

And I guess it got too much for even him cause we're at eleven and I don't believe in quitting early and it is almost painful how awkward it's getting

So he cuts me off at twelve and raises his hands in the air and everyone else cheers and claps like a dumb movie

and I just sit back in my seat to look back at my mother staring at me surrounded by everyone she knows, bright fucking red in the face and choking with honest to god tears in her eyes and she puts her face back in her palms and starts chanting "I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know"

So I give her the biggest, proudest grin and tell her, "I won."

So now every time something suggestive happens in a movie, or in conversation, or something shocking happens around us and she goes to jokingly cover my ears, I just ask her, "Remember when I won?" And she goes face-down and groans, because I know EXACTLY how she thinks I trained to develop that particular skill and she HATES knowing that about me

The truth is though, I'm a whole ass 28 year old virgin. I've never so much as kissed anyone in my life. I had no idea I could do that trick until that exact moment

But she doesn't know that, and I'm never gonna tell her

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Darry does not parent anyone in the gang except Ponyboy. No, not even Soda, and definitely not Johnny or Dally.

I’m going to be honest and say I genuinely don’t understand where the idea of Darry being the ‘dad’ of the group, or some kind of father figure to Dallas or johnny of all people comes from, because it’s so explicit in the novel and even the movie that he isn’t (I haven’t seen the musical but from what I understand there's some sort of rivalry between Dallas and Darry there, so there probably isn’t any paternal dynamic there either). To claim Darry is a father figure to ANYBODY- even Ponyboy- is completely antithetical to his character. Darry is twenty years old. He’s a big guy, who has respect from most greasers, and he is the LEADER of the gang, looks out for all of them the way a brother would, but he does not PARENT any of them.

Even after the Curtis parents’ deaths, when he gets guardianship of both Ponyboy and Soda, the only one he actually attempts to parent is Ponyboy- and he clearly struggles with it. It’s not just the main source of tension between him and Ponyboy,  it’s the ONLY source of it. Canonically, Pony and Darry got along fine before the Curtis parents' deaths, were close even, because Darry is good at being an older brother. He always has been, because he is used to it and it doesn’t carry nearly the same level of responsibility as guardianship does. Darry never had to be a parent before, let alone to his brother, and he’s flying blind trying to figure it out. He doesn’t know what limits to impose that seem fair but not stifling, can provide materially but doesn’t know how to provide emotionally, because he’s a new parent who is struggling to raise a teenager instead of a newborn, and has no experience for what he’s doing. Darrel Curtis is DROWNING trying to figure out what being a parent means when he has only ever looked at Pony as a little brother instead of a dependent. He’s not happy. He’d never give his brothers up, but this new role is killing him, and it’s plain for anyone to see. 

This brings me to my next point: Darry is so overwhelmed trying to parent Ponyboy, it never even crosses his mind to try parenting Soda too. This isn’t even my interpretation- it’s textual. Soda doesn’t get hollered at, Darry doesn’t really care where he goes or what he does, and he never punishes him the way he punishes Ponyboy. It doesn’t help that Soda and Darry are closer in age than he and Ponyboy are. Soda is almost seventeen, he has a job and is street smart in a way Pony isn’t. Darry doesn’t have to worry about him as much so he doesn’t, because Soda could survive on his own if he had to, whereas Pony couldn’t. It would also be harder for Darry to discipline Soda if he wanted to, given Soda’s age and his agency, but again, Darry doesn’t want to. Soda doesn’t need raising, because he’s already been pretty raised, and Darry couldn’t handle raising him. Darry can already barely handle raising Ponyboy, and Soda has a tenuous role in the house as he plays confidante to both of them. Soda and Darry’s dynamic is pretty solid because their dynamic is still that of brothers, there’s been no upheaval in their relationship, and so there’s no major friction either. Besides that, there’s the fact that Soda is helping raise Ponyboy, not being raised himself. It’s a joke I’ve seen a few times that Darry plays ‘dad’ and Soda plays ‘mom’ to Ponyboy after the Curtis parents’ deaths, but there's an element of truth to it. Soda handles Pony’s emotional needs, gives him advice, reminds him he’s loved, where Darry provides discipline and material needs. Now, we see clearly in the novel this creates an unhealthy dynamic in the house and in Pony’s relationship with both his brothers, making him ‘hate’ Darry and idolize Soda, but it remains true nonetheless. Darry doesn’t know how to parent, so he follows the traditional social ‘script’ of what fatherhood meant in the sixties, and the rest of the household molded to fit the new Darry into the mold he cast himself in. But despite Darry’s best efforts and Soda’s help, Darry proves over and over he’s not good at parenting, and definitely isn’t filling the role of Pony’s parent let alone his father- and it all culminates with The Slap. 

Now, knowing this, having read the book and seen, even through Pony’s biased narration, that Darry’s attempts at parenting Pony are a bit of a dumpster fire, it’s plain to say Darry isn’t playing dad to anyone else in the gang. If he was he’d be harsher to them, strict with rules he’d expect them to follow (Darry does not like to be disobeyed and he definitely doesn’t like his authority challenged), and cognizant of their whereabouts at all times. He doesn’t do this with any of them though, because he ISN’T trying to parent any of them, and even if he was no one in the gang would let him. Steve is too self-sufficient, Johnny is too independent, and Dally is too Dally for it to ever happen- even if the small age gaps between the characters wouldn’t make the attempt almost comical. Darry is, only ever has been, and only ever will be, a brother to them. It means he can offer up the couch and share food and look out for them while they look out for him in return, without ever being responsible for them. Yes, Darry is superman, he’s the oldest of the gang, seen as dependable and protective. He’s the guy everyone goes to when they get in trouble, a symbol of safety, but not because he can fix things the way a parent would. Dally didn’t call Darry from the phonebooth as a scared kid looking for a parent’s comfort, he called him as a reckless kid looking for a brother’s help to hide his misdeeds. Johnny doesn’t crash on the Curtis’ couch as anything but a kid staying at his friends turned family’s house. He looks at Darry as someone protective, but not as a father figure. In fact, he probably sees better than anyone (except maybe Soda) that Darry isn’t a great guardian, having heard Ponyboy’s rants and seen firsthand how the dynamic in the house has shifted. 

Darry Curtis is everyone’s brother, but no one’s father. He never will be. The only person he ever attempts to parent is Ponyboy, and he’s not good at it. That’s the whole point. Darrel Curtis is a dependable guy, a smart, cool, tough-as-nails gang leader, but he is also still a twenty year old kid, in over his head, who leans heavily on his friends despite his pride, and who is greatly unequipped for the level of responsibility that has fallen onto his shoulders. To portray him as a person who is able to parent a gang of delinquent teenage boys almost his own age is disingenuous and out of character.

Darry Curtis is no one’s dad. That’s the whole point.��

[kaisaerinlover]

rin nii and sae nii

darkcon , incest , aged up

pls don’t read if you don’t like darkcon

to sae, rin isn’t competition. to rin, everything the two have been doing that’s the same since he was 16 and sae was 18 is a big competition. one that he knows he has to win. he doesn’t want to let the redhead have anything up over him ever again. sae doesn’t care. sae is a calculated and cold man. rin is an erratic mess. but the one thing the two brothers always manage to share a value consensus on is their baby sister. sweet innocent you. it’s a shame you’re so innocent, or not, because if you weren’t you would know how disgsuting your big brothers are.

when your brothers are football prodigies, globally renowned for their talent, and both known for being extra secretive about whatever it is they have going on in their lives off of the field, being their little sister gets harder. your parents don’t like you as much, you’re the child who bore not a single fruit of your mother’s labour (literally and figuratively), you are the child who cannot bring anything to the table, whilst rin and sae both bring a feast and several trophies. you are you and your brothers are so much better. above you in every way. born with natural beauty and talent.

but they don’t share that corrupted view your parents do, not at all. you’re all siblings, you can tell from a single look. yet you wear those big eyes better. those long sought after itoshi lower lashes sit so much more dainty on your eyes. the eyes both of them hate and love to see tearing up beneath them. the eyes they had to pretend to ignore when they both left you to pursue their soccer careers further. it’s a shame really, even as kids you were a bit neglected by your brothers. a bit is an understatement. rin was a mean kid. sae just didn’t care. they never had time for a baby sister in their world, neither did your parents. your parents had rin and sae, rin and sae had soccer. so what did you have?

the answer is nothing. you didn’t have anything. growing up neglected yet miraculously sheltered from the world. your upbringing is the greatest gift of all though; a gift both the older two itoshis have learned to be grateful for. if your airheadedness ever was replaced by anything other than a dumb mentality they would secretly yearn for years. your aloof nature is a blessing. and they learned that as they matured, as they realised you’re their baby sister. the one they can do whatever they want to. the one they love in a way that’s so sick they wouldn’t even have careers if anyone had found out what was going on between the three of you. the rare occasion when the three of you are together with your parents eating around the table, as you sit between your nii chans cutting your food so quietly. as your parents shower your brothers with praise and compliments for their insane soccer talents. your parents are stupid, they paid so little attention to you as a whole, to your brothers as people; only to their achievements. now they can’t even see the growing rivalry between the two. the only thing sae will ever get competitive with rin for is your affections. but even then, every second they spend with you, both of them together with you, it grows their bond even more. but rin hates that; rin wants you to himself. rin is feral. sae could learn to be content with it though. maybe. if rin knew his fucking place.

the tension between them is always thick whenever you’re in the picture. as thick as it is with soccer. that’s saying a lot, considering their whole lives have been built around the damn sport. and you; god you’re sweet. sweet as sugar. more sugary and tangy than any delicacy the millions in their pockets can buy. and they want it, they want all of it. the only other thing that you could ever argue itoshi sae and itoshi rin could ever want more than glory and to prevail in soccer is to devour you whole. both of them know it. you’re so clueless to it all. like i said, how sheltered you are is a gift. no one normal would let this happen. no one would at all. but you do; you lavish in the attention your brothers nonstop give you to try and win over your pink heart wrapped in a ribbon and covered in stupid glitter because you’re a little attention whore.

when they both left you; you missed them dearly. they are your brothers after all. and your parents completely neglected you, rin was mean, sae ignored you; but they always took care of you. even if it was the bare minimum. they were still your big brothers. you’re a year younger than rin and 3 younger than sae. those are your nii chans. mom and dad had tried again for another boy. but they got you instead. and as rin and sae picked up soccer as a hobby, they felt even more disappointed. their disgust was malleable towards you. they didn’t even bother trying again. your existence was a waste. but your brothers couldn’t be more thankful that you’re a girl. couldn’t be more thankful that they have such a doting little sister. so diligent. so cute. always waiting there even after all those years of them being so mean. always clueless. your innocence is intoxicating. it really is.

rin and sae are competitive. sae could have shared before, i said it already, he really could have compromised with rin. but rin’s anger towards sae all those years ago has never quite died down. he needs to one up the eldest in everything; you’re one of those things. sae thinks rin is lukewarm. rin would say the same about sae. you would say it about neither itoshi as one fucks into your cunt and the other bites at your neck like it’s meat on a bone.

sae is fucking the shit out of you completely, he was always more rough than rin. for the most part. rin is gnawing at your neck now though, misdirected anger; you suppose it’s that way anyway. not that you have much time to think. sae itoshi fucks hard most of the time. he doesn’t want to feel this attachment towards you; he wants to fuck it away. he fucks you so hard it hurts. he’s always like that and it’s not fair. it’s not fair on you (because it fucking hurts), but most of all because the attachment won’t ever leave. sae doesn’t want to be weighted down by this stupid rivalry he has with rin over you, doesn’t want to be compelled to return to you more often than he’d like to admit. he feels something when he’s with you; so different to the years of emptiness and undiagnosed depression that swallowed him for the first while he was in spain. he knows it’s not fair too, but he can’t stop anyway when it feels so good. and you’re a whore for your brothers, no especially about it, you’re a writhing little slut for both of them.

and rin is desperately nipping at your sweet neck, trying to mark you as his. he wants to sink his cock into you as well; but this will do for now. you’re drooling all over, and he is too. your saliva mixing with one another’s and rolling down your plump tits as sae fucks into your sopping cunt. rin is biting as if he’s a vampire, you felt him draw blood a few times. thank god you have your eyes closed because both of your brothers have a look of pure focus right now. pure aggression. aggressive love is what they give you. you really adore your brothers, they know it too. and they abuse it far too much. they shouldn’t do this with you; you’re so sweet and docile. it’s so hard to resist the opportunity to take advantage of you. they still love you, but man you’re cute.

especially now, drool running down your plump pink lips, soaking your chest. mixing with rin’s. rin can’t help but to lean in and lick it up. “so good, so so good ‘mouto” he groans. and sae looks up from the sight of his cock slamming into your warm pussy for a moment just to provoke rin. “i’m making her drool, you’re just biting on her neck like some lukewarm dog” the rivalry is still there. rin just eyes sae up and down and spits out an insult back at him. “you’re disgusting, shitty excuse of a brother, at least i’m nice to her” rin’s words are laced with venom. sae wants to reply, but he’s hitting that sweet spot. so he just keeps fucking your worn out little pussy even harder.

“s-sae-nii- please- please- pl-“ rin just kisses your mouth to shut you up. he doesn’t wanna hear that shithead’s name out of your mouth. rin is pathetically in love with you, but then again, so is sae. “lukewarm, can’t even stand to hear our baby sister say her favourite brother’s name” sae’s words are cold, calculated to cut deep. and it works; rin bites at your lip extra hard. you yelp in pain and god that sound goes straight to both of their cocks. sae hardens inside of you, he didn’t even think it was possible. god their love and everlasting desire for you runs so fucking deep. he keeps pounding into you mercilessly, and he leans down a bit to massage your clit. “gonna make you cum, imouto.” and you whine into rin’s kiss. you’re so overstimulated right now. your brother’s weird competition over you makes for the greatest of fucks, it really does.

every slam of his hips, sae hears an erotic squelch. the squelch of your juices. he sees the trail of precum he left on your stomach earlier, and it just makes him plough into your swollen lips even harder as he massages your little clit. his breathing gets ragged as he’s about to cum, and rin growls into your mouth and bites at your tongue. you’re in heaven, you really are. and you finish. sae does too. and you cry out his name in rin’s mouth. which just pisses rin off even more. he wants to fucking kill sae. you squeal out the eldest’s name as he empties himself inside of your little pussy, little cum pocket for him. his warm cum dripping all inside you, filling you up to the brim. he pants and pulls out, and rin pulls away too. rin has your blood and his saliva around his mouth, sae has his bangs slightly down and sticking to his forehead. he pulls out and lifts up your aching legs a little to inspect your cunt. it’s all red and swollen from the brutal assault of his fat cock penetrating so many times, so hard, so rough. he squeezes your hole a little and watches some of his cum drip down into the crevice of your ass. the one he loves so much. how erotic. he’s hard again, but he plays fair. he gives equal chances. he scoops a bit of his cum and shoves it back in with his fingers. it’s his monster of a younger brother’s turn.

“you can have your turn, rin” sae brushes past him condescendingly and stands at the other side of your head, brushing his hand over your cheek in a way that is so deeply ironic considering the way he just ravaged your pussy. you would be grateful for rin taking his place, rin usually shows you nothing but love and care whilst he fucks you. but not now, all three itoshi siblings are beautiful, rin is not an exception to the itoshi beauty. he looks a bit deranged though, saliva and blood around his mouth. tongue out trying to lap up the remnants. his bangs covering his eyes partially. eyes looking hungry and mad. sae just inspects the marks rin has left around your tits and neck as rin takes his precious place infront of your pussy. god, he’s even mad just seeing sae’s cum on you. he’s so fucking pissed off. he wants you deeply, in a way that’s so feral it’s insane.

sae observes all of the bruises on your neck, and he feels something shift within him. he wants to cover them with his own. he really only feels this way when it comes to you. only deeply cares about one upping his younger brother when it comes to you, because he knows rin is the same. he leans in and pecks your lips gently as he hears rin fumbling desperately with his own pants trying to pull them down fast enough to be able to sink his cock deep inside of the sweet retreat of your pussy. sae is looking off a bit at the wall on the other side of the hotel bedroom as he’s thinking. are they bad brothers? he knows they are, he doesn’t even need to ask himself such a stupid question. every single one of your firsts was claimed by them. first hand holding. first kiss. first date. first heart break when they both left you. he remembers the look in your eyes, rin does too. they even both took your virginity first. he doesn’t think you’ve ever had another man, none that either brother knows of anyway; but he trusts that you haven’t. you’re devoted to your older brothers, you love them so much. and they love you too, they really fucking do. sae is still stroking your head gently until he feels it push against his hand a bit as rin pushes your legs and positions himself to slam into you.

and when he finally does, god, it hurts even more than when sae was fucking you. you can’t tell if rin is rougher, if it’s because sae already hurt you so much, or if it’s a combination of the both. you can’t care though. “nii-chan- ‘s too rough” you cry out almost instantly. and your cry just leads to sae sticking his fingers in your mouth. “shhh, suck.” and you do. rin can’t even talk at the moment. god, his little sister’s pussy never ever fails to deliver nothing short of ecstasy to him. his tongue is out and he’s gripping the bed next to your hips so tightly. every vein on his large hand is bulging so much. he’s in heaven, he really is, right now it’s not about one upping sae, it’s about fucking you so hard. misplaced anger like i said. he thrusts into you so much and all you can do is whine around the finger sae has pushed into your mouth. every thrust you’re scared he’s about to split you in half. every time he hits your womb. evey single time he smashes into you with force that kills you. all he can do is incoherently ramble “gonna fuck you ‘mouto- gonna destroy- your little pussy- tiny pussy- fuck-“ rin is just babbling on and on. low and guttural groans and his nonsensical promises are the only thing leaving his mouth.

and sae is hard from your sounds too. he leans down to add a few marks of his own onto the growing collection on your neck. you’re like a canvas, a canvas where your brothers can nonstop add to you with their brutality or with their love. and you like that, you like being their little plaything, their princess, their masterpiece, their baby sister. you really do. sae bites at your neck, less feral than rin did; he bites in a way so precise and exact, calculated perfectly to leave the marks he intends to. and rin is just slamming into you with no sense of rhythm or strength at all. you just know it hurts. it hurts so fucking good. eventually sae has had enough of marking you, he just sighs as your body still rocks against his hand as a result of rin’s brutal thrusting. he pulls out his cock again and brings it to your lips. “just lick it a bit, don’t need to suck” and you do. you hold your small hand up to steady his cock enough for you to leave a cute kitten lick on it. and rin is still thrusting into you, making you cry out each time. his hands fully gripping onto your little waist. “gonna give you a mouth full of cum, little sis.” sae warns. or is it really a warning? it’s more of a promise. and you try and reply the best you can. the best a human possibly could with a monster like itoshi rin mangling their insides with his cock. “k-kay- nii- cha-“ sae just erotically rubs his cock on your plump lips a bit, and starts jerking off above your face. it’s sick really, getting off on your sister’s ruined face. but they’re both sick and it was accepted years ago already, no point in dwelling on something that was established by both brothers years ago already.

being the centre of both brother’s affections feels good, good beyond words that can even be used right now. there isn’t enough words in a dictionary to describe it. even if you used every language and every synonym of every single word, every comparison, every metaphor, every single technique, nothing could come close to the feeling of bliss and contentment you feel. rin is still fucking you hard, drool dripping all over your stomach and cunt as he fucks you as if his goal is breaking you. sae is jerking off over your face, sometimes pressing his fat cock on your lips, rubbing between them tauntingly. cooing down at you, cooing the way you would to your sister had she gotten hurt, had she done something cute. not this. but it’s okay, none of you care so don’t think about it. not that you can use your head much right now anyway, all you can think of is your brother’s. and that’s the sad yet also joyous truth. the truth that neither brother can win. the only way the competition will end is if they come to terms with the fact that it can’t ever be settle; that when it comes to your big brothers, there’s never going to be a second best. they’re both the same. the only second best is every other man that could ever possibly try and talk to you. not rin, not sae, they’re the best you could ask for. they should accept that neither will prevail, that they have to share, that they should give in already, that they’re both the winners of your heart, but each stroke of sae’s cock over your face and every thrust of rin’s hips you are reminded that it will be a long while before they ever come to terms with that.

you’re so close again, sae is so close again, rin is so close again. all three of you are about to cum, you’re about to be marked for a second and third time tonight. rin gets more and more erratic, sae just bends down to kiss your head again before pushing his cock somewhat past your lips into your whining mouth. you can’t even talk. you couldn’t if you tried, because it’s just too much. you wouldn’t have any words anyway. your nii chans are showering you with the attention you deserve and have deserved since you were a little kid. all those years of neglect mean nothing now that they’re both giving you the highest level of attention a man can give to a girl of your calibre right now. and you love it. sae finally fills up your mouth with cum. rin finally spills inside of you as well, filling you even more than what you deemed possible, past the brim, to the point of explosion. your stomach is probably bulging right now. and you finish too. your pussy throbs in pleasure.

all three of you pant and try and catch your breath, and you choke a bit on sae’s cum. and both of their heads snap up in concern. rin looks at sae menacingly as he sits you up and helps you swallow it all down. “good girl f’ me, ‘mouto, so good” sae praises as you finally manage it all down. and rin snaps at him “get off of her, fucking idiot” all you do is pant and try to sit up to stand. you need a glass of water, seriously. but the moment you push yourself up to stand, you simply crumple to the floor. they really did a number on you. rin and sae’s cum drips down the inside of your thigh, and both of them look at you again with concern. rin grabs you under the arms and sits you on the bed. “careful, baby sis” he mumbles and tucks your hair behind your ear. both brothers are awfully competitive over you, but you’re also one of the areas where they can actually agree on. they need to take care of you. and that’s exactly what they do.

you’re laid in the middle of the bed, wearing one of rin’s jersey’s, hair tied up with one of sae’s hair ties, sae’s socks on. you’re fast asleep. you look so cute and innocent, no, you are so cute and innocent. bundled up in a blanket they both got for you as a gift when you were all just a little younger. rin is looking down at you and rubbing your head, combing his fingers through your hair, and sae is scrolling on his phone. he brings a glass of expensive champagne to his mouth and takes a drink, before resuming his scrolling. “we did a number on her, didn’t we?” he comments to rin without looking up from his phone. rin doesn’t have the energy to be snarky back. he just nods (even though sae can’t see it) and replies. “a bit, yeah”

rin sighs a bit. he looks at the ceiling. the plain white ceiling of the overpriced hotel room you’re all staying in. there was another bed, but they’d just fight over who gets to sleep next to you anyway. it’s offseason, so they both spent time with you. but it’s swallowing rin up knowing he’s going to have to leave you soon. rin was never good at goodbyes. sae was though. sae was always awfully expert at them. rin doesn’t know how he can be so cold, not only to him but to you. he remembers it from when you guys were kids. maybe spain changed him, football changed rin too. they both changed so much for the worst. the only thing that keeps any semblance of goodness within the two men is their baby sister. rin doesn’t want to leave you, he wants to bring you with him. both brothers play soccer in europe. he wishes he got into re al secretly. not to play with his shitty brother (even though it’s secretly a truth) but so both of them could agree on bringing you with them and they’d never have to part from your pretty face again.

do they really have to leave you? probably, there’s a lot of shitheads in europe that there isn’t really back home. he doesn’t want any of those people interacting with you.

sae is thinking the same thing, but it’s unfortunate. there’s someone back in re al already who knows about the weird relationship both itoshis have with their baby sister. michael kaiser. sae supposes him and rin can take turns, if they ever brought you there. rin is in france, he is in spain. it cant be that bad. they could just take turns. they should.

it’s so difficult, whatever you guys have going on. and sae feels bad for letting anyone else catch on. but kaiser won’t tell. he just wants to meet you too. sae isn’t that possessive. he supposed he’ll allow it. it’s one of the reasons he tries so hard to detach from you. your polaroid in the back of his phone that he stares at too longingly sometimes must have given him away. and every other trinket he has of you to preserve your memory.

rin is the same.

the itoshi brothers just long for you, whenever and wherever. and it’s going to be their downfall. it fucking sucks loving you this much, being in a competition that can’t ever be settled no matter what. it sucks being so immoral and corrupt that they feel this way. they feel disgusted with themselves sometimes, rin a little more than sae. but sae has his own fair share of qualms about himself that he suffers deeper with than rin. it’s just a big mess. but when rin strokes your head one more time and sae puts his phone down to stop scrolling and do the same, and simply admire your face, they both know it’s worth it. they would watch the whole world burn for you, the youngest itoshi.

it’s not normal to love your sister in this way, they know it’s not. but you’re so cute, so innocent. soccer is depressing. it’s not all fun and games. they’re both broken beyond repair in their own ways, but you serve as a nice little bandaid for their scars and woes. for all the troubles brought on by soccer. for their depleting mental health. for sae’s nonchalance, sae’s emptiness. for rin’s constant self loathing and inferiority complex when it comes to sae.

they both want to thank you for being there for them in the most innocent and disgusting ways.

[mrsbarnesblog]

one step at a time

masterlist

summary: after being rejected by you, the person who managed to catch Rafe's attention in a way no one else ever had, he goes spiraling into his addiction even more. you happened to be the only one who was able to pull him out of the turmoil in which he had buried himself in the last years.

words count: 6.5k

warnings: drug addiction, withdrawls, mutual pinning, angsty with happy ending

a/n: i've been writing and rewriting it since august and i still don't know whether i like the final result or not, so i'm ready for your feedback. aaaand happy new year to all of you, my precious followers. hope this one will bring you only the best💘

You felt your skin getting hotter under the intense gaze of a particular guy who had been starring at you whenever you two were in the same room. The one who was present in your head all the time, no matter how hard you tried to get distracted and convince yourself that it was not the person that you needed in your life.

Rafe Cameron.

He was in a circle of his so-called friends, mostly not paying attention to them and instead watching you. You didn’t know when it started to happen—when the looks that you gave to each other started to get longer and more frequent, when your eyes started to search around the rooms until they found what they wanted, when the small talks that you had during official Kook’s events became so awkward and nervous.

Your fathers worked together for a few years, so you weren’t friends, more like acquaintances who occasionally attended the same galas and parties, where you usually ended up in the same circle of people. And who, well, might have developed a secret crush on each other. 

The thing is, you didn’t know why you felt that way. Rafe was certainly not the nicest person on the island, yet you didn’t have a real reason to hate him either. He was a menace; he was spoiled and thrived on attention from others. But Rafe was undeniably hot, so damn attractive without even trying, and you just wanted him. Your whole body was gravitating towards him, no matter how you tried to get this bullshit out of your head. 

Still, you knew for a fact that no matter how much even his presence in the room affected you, seeing him do countless and countless lines at every party pushed you away from him more than anything else ever could. You were not the one to ever judge people for their addictions, but seeing many times what drugs did to people, you didn’t want to deal with it at all. Remembering the first time you noticed it, the first time Sarah cried because of how her brother became so reckless and that she was scared for him, a shiever ran down your spine. 

You excused yourself and left from inside the house when the air became to thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat from people all around you and when your thoughts started to wander in the familiar direction. You found a semi-quiet space at the balcony on the second floor, but it didn’t take too long until someone else went there, as you heard footsteps approaching you. 

“What are you doing here alone?” You instantly turned around at the sound of Rafe’s smooth voice, only to catch him looking at you up and down with a gleam in his eyes. You heart raced, almost breaking out of your ribcage, while you tried to visibly not freak out.

“Nothing, just needed some fresh air.” You shrugged. “And why are you here?” 

“Honestly?” He chuckled, seemingly feeling nervous, as his right hand started rubbing the back of his neck. “I followed you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, kinda wanted to talk to you alone for a long time.” He stepped closer, mostly looking at the floor and licking his lips. You didn’t know whether it was the chill air or the fact that Rafe’s presence had a weird influence on you, but you shivered. “You’re so pretty tonight, y’know? I mean, always. Thought I could ask you to hang out sometime. Like without shit tons of people around us?”

Your eyes followed the movements of his slightly trembling hands and the realization that he was high again made your heart sink. It were drugs speaking, you were sure that he wouldn’t have done it with a sober mind, so you just pursed your lips at the bitter feeling in your chest. 

Rafe was almost jittery, either from finally asking you out or the powder that was currently flooding his system — he didn’t even know that himself. He wanted to ask you out for ages, always thinking about the way you pulled his attention like a magnet, the way he craved you more with every passing day, but it seemed like there was never a good moment for that. 

“Rafe…” You breathed out his name, your eyes finally finding his. Pupils dilated, almost covering the pretty blue color, and the look so distant, weird, as if he wasn’t even fully there. “I can’t. This is wrong. I don’t want to do it like that.” 

“You-you’re looking at me. I know I’m not fucking crazy. You look at me the same way I look at you, don’t bullshit me, Y/N.” His eyes narrowed, his throat suddenly dry from the nerves and a hurting feeling of rejection. He stepped closer, which seemed like a way to intimidate you, but you weren't afraid of him, not even in this state of mind. 

“I’m not… denying it, okay? I like you, for some reason.” Your cheeks heated, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, but still looking up at him with seriousness and concern. “But I hate your lifestyle, Rafe. Say whatever you want, but this is not normal. You’re high even right now—I see it in your eyes. Will you even remember this party, me, our conversation the next morning?”

Was it anger that was bubbling inside of him right now? Or maybe agitation? Whatever it was, it hurt him deeply, more than he could admit. For the first time ever, Rafe actually, genuinely, became interested in someone, not with the intention of a meaningless hook up, but just because something was pulling him towards you. And, of course, he had to fuck everything up again with his dumb ass desicions. 

Who was he kidding, thinking that you wouldn’t care about the coke? You were possibly the sweetest person on the island, despite being a kook, and he had never even heard any rumors about you doing anything illegal. You were just the definition of a rich girl who enjoyed her perfect life on an island, hanging out with your friends, doing your hobbies, and never getting into trouble. 

Rafe just wanted to hit his head against the wall from the amount of mixed feelings and thoughts that his poor overstimulated mind was experiencing right now. 

“Rafe, please listen and understand what I say. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just saying that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not even fully there. If the situation was different, I would’ve happily accepted it.” His attention was focused on the floor, but from the way his jaw was clenching while you were talking, you knew that he was listening. “These people are not your friends, because they let you do that and they do not care. You should stop destroying your mind and your body with drugs while you can.” 

You tried to reach out to touch him, but he flinched. 

“Yeah, I–I get it. See ya later.” He mumbled under his breath, not even looking at you.

“Rafe, wait! Rafe!” You tried to call out, but he was already gone, mixing in the croud of people in the main room.

You pushed on the button on the doorbell for the third time, but it seemed like Cameron’s house was silent. Rafe’s truck was on the driveway, as was his red bike, so you knew that he must be home. 

After that talk with Rafe almost three weeks ago, you only heard about him and caught a few glimpses with his friends at Figure 8. People talked that he had gone even crazier than usual and that Shoupe arrested him twice. You were worried that it might be your fault, but just when you decided to catch Rafe the next time you see him, he vanished for the whole day. 

You had to call Sarah to ask what was wrong with her brother, making up a stupid excuse for your sudden interest, and the only thing that she told you was him not getting out of his room and acting weird.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here uninvited when clearly no one else besides Rafe was home, or because you weren’t even that close, but it was too late to go back when you opened the front door and slowly went up the stairs to his room. 

You were in the house a few times already, when your families had their usual gatherings together, so you pretty much knew where you had to look for Rafe. You stopped in front of his door, unsure of your actions, but before you could run away like a child, your hand had already knocked on the door.

The soft groans and mumbling were heard inside, as well as the sound of the bedsheets and something falling on the floor. Your first thought about him having someone over there made your heart drop for a second, but another groan, almost painful, filled you with concern.  

“Get—get the fuck away, Sarah. T-told you a million fu-ucking times.” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, and it seemed like he was trembling with the way it shaked. You heard cussing and more groans. He did not sound like himself with those strange pauses and unusual sounds, which made the level of your worry skyrocket. What if he was doing coke in there, or maybe something stronger? His ego must’ve gotten hurt because of your rejection, and now he was putting that shit up his nose again. 

“It’s not Sarah, Rafe. Open, please.” You rested your head on the door, listening to the complete silence after your words. He was thinking—you knew that. He was trying to figure something out, and the fact that you didn’t know what was exactly happening frightened you. "Fuck, are you doing it again? I won’t go until you open the door. Rafe, this is not funny!” 

You didn’t expect to see what was in front of you. As soon as the door opened, another version of Rafe was looking at you. He was barely standing straight, gripping the side of the door for dear life, shaking like a leaf and sweating. His face was pale, with almost white lips and bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, but stepped closer to take a hold of his face. He took something worse than cocaine. He’s high again. It’s bad. Your mind immediately went to a dark place, already feeling tears at the brim of your eyes. 

That’s when Rafe’s eyes met yours, and you froze in place. 

“You are clean.” You said, not asked, breathlessly. Tired, red, and slightly watery, but still clear, eyes looked right at you with a mixture of shame and relief. He licked his lips a few times, probably dehydrated, trying to stay focused on you despite feeling too sick to stand up straight. “Oh my god, Rafe, I thought—What's happening?” 

When he didn’t respond to you, with a new wave of confidence, you pushed him back into the darkness of the room, closing the door behind you and looking around. It was a mess, but no empty bottles, white powder, or random credit cards were seen, and you sighed with relief. 

Rafe was barely holding himself up. His body was fighting against him, craving that poisonous relief again. He swayed on his legs, suddenly feeling way too hot again, even though his skin was covered in goosebumps. It started to become more than he could handle, but another reminder that you were, in fact, right in front of him came in the form of your hands holding his face. 

Your soft eyes were searching for something in him while he tried to focus on your face. He thought that maybe he started hallucinating because, why else would you be there? Rafe leaned forward as his face curled in pain. You hummed in response, taking some of his body weight on yourself. Your hands stayed on his face, while his own trembling ones fell on your waist for some kind of support. 

At first, he thought that he was mad at you. After you rejected him, when he finally found power in himself to talk to you at that party, he was furious. He came back to his friends, immediately pulling out a plastic bag from his pocket and emptying it on the table in front of him. He inhaled more than he needed, hurt and angry from what you said to him. It blocked his mind for some time as everything around got muffled and blurry. His heart was pounding, his breath shallow, but his mind spun faster than he could keep up with. Every word you’d said echoed in his head, sharper and more painful each time.

It went on like that for some time, and at one point Rafe couldn’t even figure out what day it was. Everything was just a blur of parties, his coke buddies, and countless lines on every surface possible. It was bad, and at the back of his mind he knew that he was spiraling somewhere he wouldn’t be able to get out of, but then again, he had no one to try for. Ward didn’t care as long as Rafe didn’t cause any problems; his sisters gave him stares that he thought were either pity or disgust, as you... you weren’t there to fully see it all, so he did everything to prove God knows what, knowing damn well that it was hurt.  

The coke gave him fleeting moments of numbness, but it never lasted. The hurt always came back, heavier and sharper, gnawing at him when the highs faded and the quiet of his thoughts became unbearable.

It all was adding up, until one time Sarah caught him blacked out on the couch besides the pool. He still didn’t know whether it was a game of his mind or it happened actually, but he remembered her faint silhouette, sitting in front of him. She sounded like she was crying, but he wasn’t sure—too high to actually understand. What he remembers were her words, that surprisingly his mind was able to comprehend even in that state. “I thought you were gonna get better. I thought Y/N would be the one to pull you out of this.” Her voice cracked, a mix of sadness and disappointment that cut through the fog in his brain. “But look at you, Rafe. You’re worse than ever.”

Rafe’s vision blurred, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the high or the emotion clawing its way to the surface. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body felt like lead. He hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, laid out in front of his sister like a broken mess.

“He cares about you, you know. She told me a long time ago how much she liked you. I know you do too. And you could’ve had it all if only you were able to get out of your own way.” Sarah said, her voice soft but edged with frustration. “But instead, you’re here, killing yourself slowly over something that you could fix. Or maybe you’re just too scared to try.”

“I’m not scared.” He gritted his teeth, groaning at the baanging noises in his head.

“Then prove it. Fix your life, Rafe. Until it’s too late.” 

He didn't remember what happened after that, but then he woke up with a more clear head, still confused and disoriented. Sarah’s words were hanging at the back of his head.

What was he even trying to prove? To you? To himself? He’d spent so much time running from the pain, from the rejection, from the fear that he hadn’t realized he was running in circles, destroying everything in his path.

Rafe stood shakily, gripping the back of the couch for support. His reflection in the sliding glass door caught his eye, and he barely recognized the person staring back. Bloodshot eyes, hollow cheeks, and a gauntness that hadn’t been there before. It was a version of himself he couldn’t stand to look at anymore.

He wasn’t sure where to start or if he even knew how to fix it, but he knew one thing: Sarah, once, was right. If he didn’t make a change now, it would be too late. Too late for you to ever see him as someone worth caring about again. Too late to prove to himself that he could be better.

Dragging a hand down his face, Rafe took a shaky breath. One step at a time, he thought, Sarah’s voice still echoing in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could do it. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but for the first time, he wanted to try.

“It burns. I feel like my body is on fuckin’ fire. It’s in my veins. I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” Rafe’s eyes flattered, and his breathing became heavier as another wave of heat washed over him. “I don’t wanna take coke again, but shit—-“

“You can, Rafe. I know you can. You’re doing so well. You have to fight it just a little longer.” You ran your thumbs over his cheeks and realized that he was way too hot. “You need to cool off a little. Can you take a cold shower? Can you do that by yourself?” You slightly patted his cheek until his eyes focused back on yours.

“You actually came?” His voice was hesitant, almost fragile, and a sad smile touched your lips.

“I did. I’ll help you, okay?”

“Mhm… Stay here? Please.” He almost begged, leaning into your touch and licking his dry lips again. With your touch still lingering on his face, Rafe stumbled into his private bathroom while you decided to prepare everything for him. 

After politely rummaging through the room, you found new bed sheets to replace the old ones. Then you quickly aired the room, brought a couple water bottles from the kitchen downstairs, and turned on only one light to not disturb Rafe and his sensitive mind right now. 

As you were cleaning up, you got lost in your thoughts about what had happened in the past few weeks. From Rafe asking you out, then seemingly going crazy because of your rejection, and now his attempt to quit drugs. Not that you didn’t believe in him, but he was so stubborn, and with the amount of problems constantly surrounding him, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he had just ignored you and continued living his own way. 

But you wanted him to get clean so badly because you hated the way coke was affecting him. You knew him for a pretty long time now, and you couldn’t miss the changes in his behavior after he started using. You wanted to see the real him, wanted to help him out, no matter how cliche it sounded. 

You hated that he was so careless about his own body and mind that he willingly put that shit up his nose again and again, thinking that it would change anything. You had feelings for Rafe, you did for a long time, no matter how many people openly said that he was a disaster and a big problem. One thing that you knew for sure was that if he really wanted to try, then you would support him. 

You heard the bathroom door creak open and turned to see Rafe leaning against the frame. He looked exhausted, his damp hair falling into his eyes, his skin pale but no longer feverish. He wore a fresh pair of sweatpants, the towel he had used slung loosely around his shoulders. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and shame, like he wasn’t sure he deserved the care you were giving him.

“Hey.” You said softly, walking over to him. “You feeling any better?”

He nodded faintly, his eyes meeting yours. “A little.” He admitted, though his voice was hoarse. “Thanks for… all this.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Rafe’s movements were a little slower than usual when he came closer to you, as if he craved your presence around him. “Just made you a fresh bed. I also brought some water because you’re probably dehydrated. You should try to fall asleep, and I’ll stay here if you want to.” You softly smiled, not missing the way his eyes were glued to your lips, as if he were trying to understand you better. 

“Yeah—shit, I mean okay.” Rafe started breathing heavily again, shaking his head to clear the fog and trying to stop his hands from shaking. 

In a few minutes, you managed to get you both into his bed, with you sitting against the headboard and Rafe’s head comfortably placed on the pillow on your lap. He was facing you, so you could see the way his eyes were flattering while he tried to control himself. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked quietly, mindlessly running your hands through his long hair.

“Didn’t think that you would care about it, ‘cause you clearly said no to me.” He shrugged, while one of his hands sneaked under the pillow on your legs and touched your thigh. It wasn’t sexual in any way, but it gave Rafe some kind of comfort.

“I care about you. You are my friend.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend, Y/N.” 

You shook your head at his stubbornness, sliding your fingers down the side of his face. “I know, but we are. At least for now.” Rafe scoffed, tightening the grip on your thigh and trembling as another wave of chills washed over his body. “Sh-h. Remember, I didn’t say ‘no’. I said that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not fully here. It would be unfair for both of us. So now you have to get better, and then we’ll work from there.” His tired eyes met yours as if he were trying to understand whether you were serious or not. “When was the last time you used anything?”

“Yesterday morning.” 

“Mhm, so it’s your second day already. That’s amazing, Ray.” 

Rafe just hummed in response, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. You made him drink some water, trying to convince him that his body needed to get rid of the toxins, and one of the best ways to do it was by drinking a lot of fluids. He was surprisingly obedient, just going back to his previous position with one hand on your leg and facing you. 

You two settled into a comfortable silence, both too lost in your own heads and thoughts. 

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave your face. No matter how hard it was for him to focus, he studied your features that were perfectly illuminated by the small lamp. He looked at you countless times, always sneaking glances when no one would notice, but right now he thought that you looked the most beautiful. With a soft smile and eyes and slightly messy hair. 

Your hand that was brushing through his dump hair and then touching his face like a feather was almost too good to be true, making Rafe almost forget about the poisonous cravings and unusual reactions of his body. You, you, you—were the only thing on his mind. It was soothing and peaceful. It was calming the storm in his head, so Rafe didn’t want this moment to ever end. 

You mindlessly traced lines on Rafe’s face, just admiring the way he seemed to be calm and relaxed, as much as it was possible in his condition, and how it differentiated from the way he had always acted. Maybe it was stupid on your part to get closer with Rafe so easily, because, let’s face it, he could go back to his habits as soon as you stepped out of the house. Everyone around you constantly talked about him being the type of person who would never change to please somebody and who would never put his pride aside. 

But no matter how hard you tried, the boy in front of you, the one who looked at you with trust and unusual softness, made your heart beat faster. Your body and mind were screaming that you did the right thing and that he was worth saving, so you couldn’t just walk away and pretend to feel nothing. 

As you watched his eyes start to flutter with sleepiness, your own hands slowed down. With the wave of comfort that his company and the atmosphere of the room had brought you, you didn’t notice how you fell asleep. 

The next few days were rough for both of you, with Rafe trying to pull his shit together and not give up and with you trying to be as helpful as possible. He struggled a lot. You saw that pretty clearly, but what you also saw was how actually strong Rafe was and how determined he became to get through it. 

It was underestimating to say that your help and support meant everything to him. Your words of encouragement, your genuine kindness and willingness to help, your visits and time that you spend in his room—it all made it seem like the efforts were not worthless and that there was a reason to fight. 

After almost a week since the day you first fell asleep in Rafe’s bed, your relationship started progressing rapidly. You started actually getting to know each other, and countless text messages and phone calls were proof of that. 

He was feeling much better; the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had passed, and the fog in his mind started to lift. It wasn’t perfect, and there were moments where he felt overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had to face, but he was getting there. You could see it in the way he started to smile more often and how his voice had grown steadier on the phone; he became calmer and wasn’t always on the edge of snapping. 

Your attraction to Rafe grew rapidly whenever you saw the real version of him, the one that was soft and caring, brought up to the surface—the one that had been buried beneath layers of anger, frustration, and his addiction. The version of him that you knew had always been there but had been clouded for so long. It was these moments, the quiet ones when he was relaxed and open, when his vulnerability came through, that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

Sitting on the porch at your house, you thought about Rafe and your time together, and your tummy fluttered with anticipation for what was yet to come. You saw that longing look in Rafe's eyes, and you weren’t one bit surprised because that night he clearly said that your friendship was not enough for him, but you hoped to move slowly. 

Even if your breath always hitched whenever he stepped closer or lowered himself to say something to you. 

Even if your heart skipped a bit whenever you saw a message with his name next to it. 

A notification from your phone brought you back to the present, and as soon as you saw Rafe’s text, you proved yourself right. Your heart skipped a beat again as a shy smile touched your lips. 

Café near the beach? My treat. I have something to show you

k, i’ll be there in fifteen

When you got out of the taxi, your eyes scanned the people sitting in the open area under the light of the setting sun, but you didn’t see one particular guy who started messing with your head in the best way possible. 

That was until you saw someone turning their head back, as if they sensed you standing there, and your mouth fell open in shock. 

You came closer as Rafe stood up from his chair with a smug look on his face, but your eyes were too hungry, taking him in, to even try to be respectful. 

“Your hair! Oh god, Rafe! How—why—when?" Your hand reached out to touch his freshly buzzed hair, rubbing it back and forth. 

“Texted you as soon as I finished. Just wanted to get rid of the past, y’know.” He shrugged, soft eyes studying your face that was way closer while you inspected his new haircut. “Don’t you like it?”

“It’s hot—I mean, you look hot. It suits you.” You stepped back, looking up and down, trying to memorize a new image. Rafe did look hotter. You suddenly noticed his sharp jawline, strong neck, and shoulders. Damn, he looked bigger. He looked healthier. With that spark in his blue eyes, smoothed, tan skin, and muscles... Oh god, you felt your face getting hotter as your eyes lingered on his arms way too long. 

How the hell did you miss his sudden transformation from being a frat guy to a rich golden boy? Was it the effect of his quitting drugs and finally drifting apart with his previous lifestyle and friends?

“It definitely does. Though I'll miss playing with them.” You mumbled, suddenly nervous and shy under his gaze.

“You think I look hot, hm?” He teased, placing a firm yet gentle hand on your lower back.

Touchy, but never overstepping. 

“Don’t you know that already?” You bit your lip to hold back a smile, placing your hands on Rafe’s upper arms and looking up through your lashes. You both felt that sudden tickling feeling running through your veins at the eye contact, and it made you both start smiling without any words being said. 

“A’ight, I think we should go get something to eat.” 

You were going around the people who flooded the beach house that you were currently in. With you constantly spending time with Rafe, your friends almost begged you to the party, only to leave you almost instantly as they got too interested in the experience of alcohol. Not that you were too upset about it, because you still asked Rafe to come with you, and he was more than happy to do anything for you. 

The music was too loud in the main room, and you went through the back door to an open yard that led right to the beach and was still full of drunk people, but at least there was some fresh air, and Rafe had already been waiting for you on the bench near the big wooden table with lots of drinks. 

You left him just for a few minutes just to use a bathroom, but when you stepped outside, you saw him talking to a guy that you had only seen around when Rafe was doing drugs. Your heart started beating faster at the sight of their obviously not so calm conversation, and you rushed closer to know what was happening. 

“Rare? What’s going on?” You stepped beside him, brushing your hand against his stiff back. “What do you want from him?” You pointed a finger at the guy whose name you didn’t bother to remember, and he just snickered back at you. 

“Nothing. It’s alright, sweetheart.” 

“Quit being a pussy, man. I have the best shit with me today. You’ll get high as a kite.” The guy completely ignored you, only looking at Rafe. You could physically feel the anxiety washing over you at the thought of it happening again, of Rafe just walking away with him right now and leaving you here alone. 

You tugged at his arm, trying to catch his attention. “Rafe, you promised. We should go now, please.” He looked back at you, nodding without hesitation and catching your hand to interlace your fingers. 

“Told you that I quit it. Go chase someone else, Hugh.” 

“Because of this bitch?” The moment this word left his mouth, Rafe’s hands gripped the front of Hugh’s t-shirt, backing him against the table and knocking over a few bottles. 

“Call her a bitch one more fucking time and I’ll knock off your teeth.” The guy lifted his hands in surrender, as Rafe was seething with anger, without a doubt meaning what he just said. 

You tugged gently on his arm again, trying to ease the situation. “Rafe, let’s just go, please.” You urged, your voice soft but firm, hoping to ground him before things escalated any further.

Rafe’s breath was heavy, his grip on Hugh’s shirt still tight, but his eyes were fixed on you now, softening at your touch. Slowly, he released Hugh, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’re done here.” Rafe muttered, his voice low and controlled, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. You guided him away from the curious people, who were already whispering about the unfolded scene.

You sat on a wooden bench under a giant tree, with your legs thrown over Rafe’s and almost no distance between you two. It happened so instantly, so naturally, that none of you even thought about it. Rafe had his warm hands laying on your thighs and knees and rubbing your exposed skin in small circles, keeping his eyes down.

A silence lingered between the two of you, and while Rafe was too lost in his head, you took your time to admire him. You spent so much time together over the past month, not because you felt obliged to, but because it was simply amazing. Underneath all of those layers, you found real Rafe, the one who was teasing, who was funny, and the one who was super protective and incredibly caring.

You had never expected to be absolutely down for a man like him, but he was getting so much better with every passing day, never giving you a reason to doubt his intentions. Of course you didn’t forget Rafe’s words about him wanting to be more than your friend, and it lingered over your head every time you caught him staring at you. Though he had never rushed anything, wanting to have that natural bond between you grow stronger and only showing his hidden desires with glances full of admiration and with careful touches. 

Rafe’s head suddenly shot up, eyes clear yet narrowed. He smirked, seeing you already looking at him and subconsciously tightening his hold on your leg. He held eye contact for a few seconds, making a smile tug at your lips before he looked away, shaking his head with a deep chuckle. 

“What?” You half-whispered, suddenly feeling shy. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” You tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold back a smile, but miserably fail when he moves a tiny bit closer and all you can see, feel, and smell is him. “You’re like— I’m— Fuck, you made me stutter like a damn middle schooler…” He was completely infatuated by you, barely able to handle his violently beating heart.  

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound warm and full of affection. The way Rafe was fumbling with his words, clearly flustered, made you feel something deep in your chest—a flutter that wasn’t just attraction but something more vulnerable, something you hadn’t expected to feel when you first started spending time together.

“Rafe…” You whispered, leaning in just a little, your voice low and teasing. “You’re so cute when you’re like this.”

His eyes darkened slightly at your words, the smirk on his lips turning into something more sincere, more tender. He took a deep breath, shifting so he was closer, his chest nearly touching yours. His fingers slowly and carefully traced the edge of your skirt, and the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips made the air feel thick with tension.

“Don’t do that.” He said softly, his voice a mixture of amusement and longing. “I’m trying not to make this harder for myself.”

“Trying?” You raised an eyebrow, your teasing smile not leaving your lips. You knew exactly what you were doing, enjoying every second of his reaction. “You’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his hand now resting on your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth slowly as if he were trying to steady himself. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and erratic. He leaned forward just enough to close the space between your faces, his lips hovering over yours, but not touching. The energy in the air around you suddenly shifted, and you raised your hand to his neck to pull him even closer.

“I don’t want to rush this.” Rafe murmured, his voice low and serious, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “But god… you make it so damn hard to hold back.”

You could feel his heart beating against yours, the rhythm erratic but strong. You didn’t speak for a moment, simply breathing with him, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“You don’t have to hold back. I’m not going anywhere, Ray.” You said softly, your voice almost a promise.

And with that, the tension seemed to snap, the silent understanding between you both growing stronger. He finally closed the space between you, his lips pressing gently against yours, tentative at first, as if he were still unsure but desperate to feel you. And as the kiss deepened, as he pulled you closer to his body, you were completely lost. 

The kiss deepened further, his tongue gently coaxing yours into a slow dance. He was lost in you, the intensity of the moment making everything else fade away. The way you responded, so naturally, so eagerly, only fueled his desire. Rafe’s grip on you tightened, pulling you onto his lap, your bodies fully pressed together now, the heat of his body seeping into yours.

When he finally pulled back, his lips still brushed against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. He looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than just desire—there was a tenderness, raw and vulnerable, something that had been buried beneath the walls he’d built around himself.

"Thank you." Rafe breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here. For helping me... through all of this. I don’t think I could have done it without you."

You smiled softly, licking your lips before speaking. “You don’t have to thank me. You should be proud of yourself for being able to do that.” You traced your fingers down the side of his face. “Just promise me you won’t stop trying if something hard happens, okay? You have me, and you have your sixers who care about you too.”

“Okay. I won’t. I promise.” Turning his head to the side to place a kiss on the palm of your hand that lingered on his face, Rafe pulled your body closer to him. There was still a lot to work on, but hidden away from other people, you finally savoured a quiet moment between you two, and for the first time, there was nothing but peace and warmth in both of your hearts. 

[lqveharrington]

But Daddy I Love Him with older!Eddie Munson🫣🫣

Daddy I Love Him | E.M.

summary: your parents always hated eddie munson, in return causes an argument between you and them.

pairing: older!eddie munson x harrington!reader

includes: mentions of devil worship, bantering, arguments, screaming, bad parents, steve being a good brother, crying, angst, fluff

a/n: i've never wrote a full fic for eddie, so this is a first :) (rules for celebration here!)

Your family — mainly your father — was never fond of Eddie Munson. In fact, they all believed he was the devil's spawn. You tried to reason with them and show how sweet he truly was, but they only brought up the cold hard truth. How he was held back twice, played a Satanic Game with high schoolers, and smoked weed. He was someone they didn't want you hanging around. They wanted you to stay as far away from his as possible.

Unfortunately, it was a little too late to enforce that rule.

You were in your senior year of high school when you began to hang out with Eddie. You didn't hang out with him to smoke or to slack off on your studies. No, you hung out with him because you could truly be yourself around him. You didn't have to be the perfect cheerleader your parents wanted you to be — you could just exist.

Everyday you were able to hang out with him, you became more confident in who you were. You wanted to leave behind the simple girl you were raised to be. You didn't care if Sarah or Hannah labeled you a mess or if your parents grounded you until you left for college, you just wanted to be with the one who truly understood you.

"I'll get it!" You yell from your room and quickly rush down the stairs, finishing the braid you were adorning yourself with.

The fall weather in Hawkins was always the best. It wasn't too cold or too warm, it was perfect. So when Eddie told you he would take you to town today, you were ecstatic.

Just as you made it to the base of the stairs — Mary Janes scuffing the wooden flooring — Steve cut in front of you and yanked the door open, smile falling when he saw who was standing on the front porch. Unlike your parents, Steve was less inclined to scold you for running off with Eddie. He probably scowled at Eddie once and told him to stay away from you, but after your many protests, he left you both alone.

"Munson." Steve gave him a curt nod and stepped away from the door, letting you pass. He was wary of you running off with Eddie, you were his little sister. But you looked so happy being around him.

Shaking his head, Steve grabbed your forearm and lowered his voice, eyes flitting up to Eddie before back down to you. "Be careful."

You roll your eyes and push him away, adjusting the dress you wore. "I'll be fine, Steve. Besides, our parents are supposed to be gone the entire weekend."

Steve huffed and reluctantly let you go, watching you get into the white van and pull away toward god knows where. Steve only hoped you wouldn't burn down the life you worked so hard to get to.

As Eddie hummed to the music playing on the radio, you laced a hand with the one he had resting on your thigh. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, grinning when you were already staring at him. He was your chaos and your wild joy, but he was all yours and you wouldn't change it for a thing.

"Where are we going today?" You ask softly as he lifted his hand and kissed the back of yours, thumbing the space there.

He continued to kiss the back of your hand as he spoke, "Thought I'd take you downtown. They recently opened a new music shop down there and I heard they have some of your favorite artists."

You raised your brows in surprise and tilt your head, a grin slowly revealing itself to him. "You know me too well." You sigh and squeeze his hand. "Freaks me out just a little."

Eddie chuckled and squeezed your hand back. Of course he knew you well. He had a journal at home that noted all your favorite things. From your favorite flowers to your favorite type of baked good — he had it all written and memorized.

When you got downtown, he bowed and stuck a hand out to help you out of the car. You laughed and gave him a curtsey once he got you down, linking your arms together. On the way over to the store, you passed many people your father knew. Your face twisted in annoyance when a particular woman who used to babysit you and Steve backed away from the both of you and made a cross with her hands.

Eddie tilted his head to you and pressed a kiss to your hair, murmuring quietly. "You okay?"

"Yeah." You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear angrily, glaring at the sidewalk in front of you. "Just annoyed at the people in this town." You kick a pebble and watch it tumble down the road. "All they do is stare and gossip when they see us. It's not like you'll use me for a Satanic sacrifice."

"Who knows? I might just, Harrington." Eddie chided and pursed his lips when you sent him a bored look. He sighed and put his arm around your shoulder. "On another note, you know they're just jealous you're not conforming to the norm." He squeezed your shoulder and flicked your braid over your shoulder. "All your friends aren't really your friends with all the fake smiles they keep throwing you."

"I don't give a damn about them." You rest your head on him and sigh, playing with the buttons adorning his denim vest. You huffed again and rub a hand over your face. "The main issue is telling my parents who I'm really going out with."

Eddie hummed and looked down at you, "When are you telling them?"

You scoff out a short laugh, shaking your head. "If I'm lucky — and Steve doesn't snitch — hopefully not until I'm off to college."

He nodded at you and squeezed your shoulder, leading you toward the music store only a few steps away. "Smart girl."

"Thank you." You grin up at him and kissed his cheek when he opened the door for you.

The second you stepped into the store, you were starstruck. The entire place felt like you stepped onto the set of a music video. There were sections purely for The Smiths and The Cure. There sections for Metallica and Black Sabbath — which Eddie ran straight over to. You shook your head and went to the vinyl and records.

You were so mesmerized by things you'd never seen before in Hawkins that you didn't realize Eddie was by your side, simply admiring you. From the way you kept tucking your hair behind your ear to the way your tongue would just so slightly poke out when you were overlooking the description of the record. His breath was taken away at the sight.

"If I had a camera, I would just snap a picture right here." He spoke all of a sudden, causing you to jerk back in surprise and clutch a hand over your chest. "Absolutely stunning, Harrington."

You shake your head and place the vinyl down, creasing your brows when you met his eyes. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"No." He sent you a cheeky grin and blew a kiss, making you smile. He grabbed the vinyl you were looking at and tucked it underneath his arm, still staring at you. "But you really do look beautiful. Your dress not only compliments your features but your personality."

"How did you ever fail English with all your smooth talk?" You lace your hand with his free hand, slipping one of his many rings on your own.

Eddie opened his mouth before shutting it, shrugging and playing along with you. "Now that is a complete mystery."

"Did you grab everything?" Eddie popped the door open for you again and helped you out, eyeing your side of his van to make sure you had everything you brought with you.

"Yep." You pat his arm and shake the paper bag full of records and small posters. Although he didn't have much, he still proceeded to buy almost everything you wanted despite your many protests. "Thank you for buying them for me... Are you sure Wayne —?"

"What the hell are you doing with him?" Your father burst through you front door, his eyes wide in anger and fists clenched by his sides. Behind him, Steve and your mother followed, the latter shocked at how close you were to the devil's spawn.

"Daddy?" You took a step back and bumped into Eddie, hands shaking from confusion and fear. You directed your eye sight to Steve, who looked troubled. "I thought--"

"Sorry, I tried. I'm so sorry." Steve rubbed his face and winced when he heard his mother's shrill voice from his right.

"You knew?" She grasped Steve's shoulder and looked at him in bewilderment. She looked between you and your brother, both of you recoiling at how badly the both of you messed up today.

It had been a while since the both of you were heavily scolded by your parents, but you knew you wouldn't hear the end of this mess. You frowned when your father pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering words you would be grounded for even thinking about.

"Wha — Uhm..." Steve stuttered and sent you an apologetic look, running his fingers through his hair. "I have to make a call to work."

"Daddy —" You try to speak again only to be interrupted by your father barking orders at you.

"Get inside the house." He pointed toward the door and glared at the boy behind you. When you made no effort to move, he marched up to you and grabbed your forearm, voice strict and unyielding. "Now."

You huffed and pulled your arm away, giving Eddie one last look before entering your own personal hell. You entered the dining room and sat as far away from your parents, crossing your arms and looking down at the wooden table.

"What the hell were you doing out with Eddie Munson? We told you to stay away from him!" Your father slammed his hands down on the table, cause the glass vase full of beautiful flowers to topple over.

You looked up at him in surprise and crease your eyebrows, "Daddy, he's not a bad person —"

"Like to hell he's not! He's a bad influence! You're supposed to be at home and studying for your midterms." He shouted back before sitting down in the chair opposite of you, face red in disappointment. He knew you were dating someone, but he didn't know you were dating a super, super senior.

"Those aren't for another month!" You hold back from shouting all together, quite aware that your temper was about to blow.

"Don't talk back to your father like that." Your mother gave you a pointed look, picking at her perfectly manicured nails. She rubbed her temple and sighed, "We just want to understand why?"

"But you wouldn't care." You huff and lean back into the chair, tears of frustration filling your eyes. While Steve wasn't the perfect son and didn't get accepted into any colleges, he was able to carry good grades and competed in basketball and swim. They wanted you to be even better than him — get accepted into an ivy league and leave behind Hawkins, Indiana. "All you care about is me getting into college and getting filthy rich like you guys."

Your mother shook her head and moved to grab your hand. "That's not a bad thing, sweetheart—"

"You don't listen to what I want to do, mom." You yank your hand away from her touch, eyes practically burning holes into the wall. You felt like you were going to burst into flames if they said anything else degrading toward Eddie. "All you want to talk about with me is proper etiquette and daddy just goes on about how I need to be the best or I'll end up like Eddie."

"It seems like you aren't far from that anyway." Your father muttered and earned another glare from you. He took your mother's hand and squeezed it as he revealed the following information. "Apparently this isn't the first time you've gone out with the Munson boy."

"What?" She whispered and looked at you with wide eyes, biting the her bottom lip in nervousness.

Your father nodded and scowled at you when he found how unphased you were. "She's been going out with him since the end of summer."

"Oh my god." Your mother fell back and held her forehead in a dramatic nature. She fanned herself and shook her head, "You need to stop seeing that boy."

"Wait, what? I haven't done anything bad." You protest and look between the both of them. "My grades are perfect and —"

"Who knows where you'll end up if you keep hanging around with him." He slammed his hands down on the table again, making you flinch. He sighed and pinched the bridge of nose once again. "Why do you even bother spending time with a hopeless —"

That's when you snapped. The chair scrapped against the floor as you rapidly stood, hands placed on the table to balance yourself. Your voice echoed around the room, uncaring if the neighbors could hear the commotion. You needed them to understand you weren't ever going to leave him, no matter what they tried to force upon you.

"Daddy, I love him!" You all but screamed at him, chest heaving from all the emotion you poured out. Their eyes widened at your outburst. That was the first time you ever yelled back. "I love him because he sees me for who I truly am." You shake your head and glare at them, head pounding from how much energy you spent on them. "Something you and mom fail to do to both your children."

You began to walk away from them, your steps never faltering as you ascended the staircase. But before you could take another step up, you father called out to you, making you scoff.

"Where are you going? We're not done with this conversation, young lady." He stood by the bottom of the stairs, face red from fury. Your mother was covering her mouth, still in shock from what you said.

"But I am." Your voice comes out sharper than intended. "I love him and I won't go back on it."

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐆 ! ❞

a little drabble around 0.2k words — the reason why he lets you hug him even though he isn't a fan of physical touch.

　ITOSHI Sae—just like his younger brother—hates physical touch. Everyone knows that little about him. And you do so too. You know that he hates to touch someone after a game, always feeling sticky because of sweating so much.

Yet whenever his game comes to an end, it doesn't stop you from surprising him from behind, always placing your hands on top of his shoulders and then jumping high into the sky. It's always before he gets to take a shower.

Or whenever you two are alone and you feel the need of being in touch, you always would sluggishly drape yourself over him while he lays in bed or sits on the couch of your shared house.

Not to forget the random hugs you'd give him in the middle of nowhere. Something you do very often to his distaste. But he still lets you wrap your arms around his torso.

Because—Sae remembered what you said once when it was winter;

“Do you know why people hug each other? It's because that's when your hearts are the closest.”

After that, he started to appreciate your hugs little by little—always stealing glances of your small smiles, rosy cheeks, red nose. The fleeting warmth and the lingering scent were unforgettable.

The only thing he hopes for, is that you couldn't hear how fast his heart is beating.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's note — that's my contribution to the bllk fandom after reading a sad karasu oneshot. HAPPY NEW YEAR BY THE WAY <3

[0vergrowngraveyard]

starting off 2025 with boscage sonic (aka scruffy)

random notes about him:

- he’s sonic’s protectiveness (especially towards tails), stubbornness, and love of nature. he’s the big brother, the protector. scruffy is much more serious than sonic is, muzzle basically curved in a permanent frown

- speaking of sonic, his ass hates that mf. not only does this small, spiky guy look like him, he’s also getting a little too close to mangey for scruffy’s liking AND he hurt thorn. if he went after thorn, who’s to say he won’t go after his cub at some point? i also just really like the idea that the different versions of sonic don’t like him because of how quickly he latches onto their versions of tails

- he can talk, he just actively chooses not to unless it’s 100% necessary. he usually just huffs and grunts at people

- he and mangey are separated when sonic goes to the maze. scruffy is in the forest with thorn and birdie

- thorn is his best friend. when the ache in his heart is too much, he goes to her for comfort. he understands that mangey is a scavenger, but he doesn’t like it. he doesn’t like it at all

now for the random lore dump beneath the cut!

scruffy was on the same boat as thorn when it came to the soon-to-be-called scavengers taking the forest’s resources (except for mangey who was doing nothing wrong in his eyes of course). When the time came, he helped the hedgehog drive the scavengers away, only stopping when he noticed mangey was also running from him. He saw the fear in the kit’s eyes has he scrambled up to the treetops with the others and immediately regretted his decision, even if thorn was telling him it was for the better; that mangey chose to go with the scavengers.

by the time sonic lands in the boscage maze, scruffy spends most of his time either with thorn and birdie or near the base of the tree he saw mangey leave on. He is convinced that the little fox is terrified of him and hates him (mangey also thinks scruffy hates him and that’s why the beast scared him away. the kit spends a lot of time near the edges of the wooden platforms in the trees, looking for any sign of his big brother through the leaves) but he still hopes for the day the fox descends from the tree and their little family reunites

that’s all i really have for him so far. still need to work out how exactly he’d fit into the overall story. but yeah, my new boy scruffy!!! i love hims!!!

here’s some more random sketches:

[livingformintyoongi]

Cross The Line | Jeon Jungkook

a/n: This is a little idea I had since I published Echoes of love and as the rest of my pending projects are too long to publish them soon, I brought this as a way to cover my absence :) You can request some scenery for this drabble series through my inbox! Summary: After years of working with Jungkook, your insecurity about your feelings for him begins to grow and become more complex, bringing you to the point where you wonder if you can really keep fooling yourself or if it's time to face those feelings. Pairing: Boss!Reader x Secretary!Jungkook WC: 3.8k Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Is this the last thing on today's agenda?” you murmured, continuing your way to your office. Each step you took was followed by the soft, firm sound of your heels tapping against the floor. Today, you were wearing wine-colored ones, which matched perfectly with your lipstick and shirt in the same shade.

Red was the color you wore when you were about to fire someone or, in worse circumstances, when you were about to end up in an argument with one of your siblings. This time, the correct answer was the second one. You were the second oldest of four siblings, and, well, when your family was as chaotic as yours, you had to take charge of the problems, even if that meant putting your own image at risk.

You hated your life in this sense.

“Yes, boss,” Jungkook replied cheerfully.

Ah, your little—not so little—secretary, Jungkook. To be honest, you hired him because you were desperate to find a secretary as quickly as possible, something that, although it sounded easy, was actually really complicated.

You were a pretty cruel, strict, and direct person. You scared away your workers in less than a month (in fact, the same year you hired Jungkook, you'd already had three other secretaries—three!). Jungkook was your lifesaver. He had just come out of his last job, had a resume that sounded too flattering to be true, and had graduated with honors. You thought he would last only a few months, just like all the others, and you thought you could take full advantage of that time. The surprise came when five months passed and he was still working for you without a single complaint.

Now, it had been a total of four and a half years working together as boss and employee. He had lasted even longer than any relationship you’d ever had—it was officially your longest relationship! Though it wasn’t like you were proud of that.

“After the meeting with your brother, you had a dinner with your family, but it got canceled at the last minute,” Jungkook’s steps quickened as yours grew more impatient and longer. “Oh, and, um, tonight I was planning to have a small party at my apartment for my 27th birthday… in case you’d like, you know, to attend,” he murmured, his tone softer and less playful.

Yes, you might’ve forgotten that little detail. He was hopelessly in love with you, strange, right?

The first time you realized, you almost made him cry because of the horrified look you gave him. Not that the idea grossed you out, but, to be completely honest, you had been torturing him since he started working. You’d call him to work on his days off, ask him to run errands on weekends, force him to stay late to finish your extra work, and you even had to spend three consecutive Christmases together due to the lack of staff that year.

He was an extremely sweet guy, a guy who loved banana milk, Hello Kitty plushies, and fantasy and romance books—you discovered this when you saw him reading The Lunar Chronicles during his lunch break—and then there was you… someone who loved her coffee extremely strong, hated plushies and how ridiculously large they could be, and preferred to read more informational books than fantasy ones.

“Are you celebrating your birthday today?” you said with a disinterested tone, slowing your steps as you approached Soomin’s office, your star employee and—unfortunately—the girlfriend of Taehyung. Your office was under renovation and you couldn’t use it until next week, so you had been using Soomin’s office during this time.

“Yes! I wanted to do it last week, but you were too busy, and I really wanted you to come, but that doesn’t mean you have to if you don’t want to! I understand it’s been a busy week, and even if it hasn’t, you don’t have to come because we’re just coworkers and—”

“I think I got it, Jungkook,” you chuckled quietly, feeling a warmth in your chest at how easy it was to make the young man nervous beside you. You hadn’t even opened your mouth, and he was already rambling like crazy, wasn’t it adorable?

“Oh, yeah, sure…” he muttered as his cheeks heated up and turned red. It was incredibly easy to make him nervous, and you loved making him nervous. Not that you liked it, just... it was cute to see.

You stopped in front of Soomin’s office door, opening it to be greeted by the very unpleasant sight of your older brother sitting in the chair in front of the desk. You rolled your eyes and entered reluctantly, waiting for Jungkook to follow you and close the door behind him.

“Finally, you’re here. I thought I was going to die waiting for you,” Junmyeon got up from the chair, slipping both hands into his designer pants pockets. Your wild side screamed for you to grab the ink from Soomin’s desk and spill it on him, but you weren’t in the mood for family fights. “Good afternoon, Jungkook.”

“Good afternoon,” Jungkook responded in a much deeper and more serious tone than the one he used to speak to you.

One thing you loved about your secretary was how incredibly loyal he was to you. Your brother had tried to offer him a job hundreds of times, putting ridiculously high salaries for a secretary on the table; he turned them all down without thinking.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart race a little. Just a little.

“Alright, you have five minutes to tell me what mess you’ve gotten into now. If you’re back in trouble with your girlfriend, then start forgetting about my help. I don’t want any more love problems.”

You still remembered the poor girl who had the terrible luck of dating your brother. You had found him with another girl at a bar near his work, and you were furious enough to go to him and pull a good chunk of hair from the not-so-poor girl.

It was a pity, she was actually someone you liked, made you laugh at every family dinner, and could cook delicious dishes. Plus, she was ridiculously beautiful, and you weren’t even sure what she was doing with your brother.

“It’s not a big deal, I just came here to ask you for a favor,” he approached you, but stopped instantly when he saw Jungkook stepping in between both of them to grab Junmyeon’s arm with enough force to give him a little scare.

“He said no, now, please, stop insisting and get lost,” Jungkook said in a calm but firm tone. Both you and your brother shuddered slightly at the tone of his voice, but for completely different reasons.

“Let it go, Jungkook, it’s not worth it,” you placed your hand on his arm, smiling inwardly as you saw how his whole body relaxed at your touch. Why did he have to be so sweet? “I won’t do it, no matter how much you insist. Make sure you leave the door closed when you leave.”

And with that, you left the office, feeling Jungkook’s soft footsteps following you behind. Hearing them calmed you a little more. Maybe, it even made you feel a little safer than before.

It had been hours since the incident with your brother, hours in which you spent wondering if you should really attend Jungkook’s party or simply ignore it and move on. Would there be any problem if you went? It was just a party, they’d probably eat something, drink a little, talk about trivial things, and then you’d go back home in a taxi. What’s the worst that could happen?

“I really don’t understand what you’re doing here,” Taehyung said, letting out a heavy sigh as he watched you finish off his last reserve of coffee. He hated how bitter it was, but his girlfriend loved to drink coffee in the mornings, so he had gone out of his way to buy one of the stupidly expensive brands he found at the store, with the excuse that “his girlfriend deserved the best of the best.” Both you and Soomin nearly fainted when you heard the price. “Wasn’t Jungkook’s birthday today? Minnie told me she was going to his apartment tonight for that reason.”

“He is, but I don’t know if I should go,” you murmured, stirring your third spoonful of coffee into your cup before filling it to the brim with boiling water. You didn’t miss the grimace of disgust from your friend as he watched how you prepared your drink. He had no right to blame you when he ate far worse things.

“Why not? I thought you liked him, I mean, you even have him as Jungkookie in your phone,” he raised an eyebrow, his tone playful, resting his forearms on the kitchen counter. All his attention was on you and how you tried to drink your coffee in one gulp.

The burn in your throat was enough to distract you from whatever you’d been feeling in your chest all afternoon. Just like your father used to say, there was nothing better than pain to heal another pain.

“He’s my secretary.”

“He’s a guy.”

“He’s my worker, Taehyung.”

“He’s a pretty handsome guy, Y/N.”

You both exchanged looks for a few seconds, neither of you commenting on it.

“I’m ready!” Soomin entered the kitchen, looking just as charming as always. She wore a beige dress with a plaid coat in autumn tones. Her hair was gracefully tied in a high ponytail, giving her a cheerful and youthful look.

It didn’t go unnoticed by you that both of them were matching, nor could you ignore the loving and admiring look Taehyung gave her as soon as her small figure appeared at the kitchen door.

“You look as dazzling as ever, darling,” Taehyung said in a soft, honeyed tone. His hand took hers and made her spin once before pulling her close to kiss her temple.

And there you were. In front of them. Watching them exchange sweet words and romantic gestures.

You felt incredibly out of place.

“Please tell me you’re staying here, because I don’t think I can handle a ride in the same car as you two,” you muttered with a grimace of disgust, looking at Taehyung with the most pleading look you could muster.

“Of course I’ll go, he’s my friend too,” he responded with a teasing smile as he wrapped his arms around Soomin’s waist.

You wanted to hit him. You wanted to grab his perfectly styled hair and pull it until he was bald. He deserved it.

“I hate you.”

“I adore you too.”

And you responded by flipping him off.

“Wait, what did you say?” you frowned, watching as both Taehyung and Soomin stayed in the car, looking at you through the open window.

“I’m so sorry, I really don’t know how I forgot the gift at home,” yeah, maybe it was because Taehyung had been too busy kissing her poor face to think about anything else, “We won’t take long, I promise, it’ll be a quick trip there and back.”

You sighed when you heard Soomin. You didn’t want to arrive alone, especially not when you didn’t know how many people would be at Jungkook’s birthday party, but you also understood that they didn’t want to show up without the gift they had bought for him. After all, it was his party.

“Fine, go ahead, I’ll go first,” you said quietly, shaking your hair in frustration. Was it Taehyung’s fault? Half of it, would you hate him for it? Totally. He was your friend, and you had every right to want to choke him for putting you in this situation. You could see it in that smug smile he was giving you; Soomin could say it was an accident, but Taehyung’s face screamed that it was a carefully planned trap.

He would pay for this.

“We’ll be back in a bit,” Soomin murmured with an apologetic smile just before the car drove off, leaving you completely alone in the apartment complex where Jungkook lived.

“Okay, I guess it’ll just be you and me,” you looked at the gift bag in your hand, letting your feet take you to the door marked 309, where the party was supposed to be.

The walk there was silent, the only noise in the place was the sound of your boots clicking against the slick floors of the building’s hallways and the occasional little voice screaming at you to go back home, that this was a bad idea, that you weren’t made for these kinds of things.

You were supposed to be that rich, single aunt that all the nieces and nephews loved because she took them on amazing vacations and all that stuff you always saw in movies. You weren’t the protagonist, you were the supporting character that everyone remembered, whether they loved you or hated you.

Yet, here you were, in front of Jungkook’s apartment, holding a small gift bag, impatiently waiting for him to open the door and greet you so you could stop hearing that voice in your head telling you to run away from this place.

“Ho-” Jungkook stopped halfway through the word when he realized it was you on the other side of his door. Although he had expected you to come, he never thought you would actually show up.

You had been ignoring his birthday invitations since, well, since he started inviting you.

“Miss Y/N, you came!” A big smile spread across his face, and his eyes seemed to light up even more than usual. You forced yourself to ignore the pressure in your chest at seeing him so excited about your appearance.

“Just call me Y/N, we’re not at work,” you murmured, swaying awkwardly in your spot. “Can I, uh, you know, come in?”

“Oh, yes, sorry! Please, come in!” He stepped aside, giving you space to enter his small but cozy home.

You carefully stepped in, taking off your shoes and placing them to the side, quietly thanking Jungkook for the slippers he offered so you could come in.

“I’m sorry for coming alone, Taehyung and Soomin forgot something and went back,” you said as you walked further into the space. You noticed how all the walls were painted black, with several monochrome paintings hanging on them.

You were quite surprised to see that everything in his home was dark-toned. It was very similar to yours in that sense, something that made you feel a little more at ease. At least your tastes in home decor were similar.

Your house was much larger, always dark, and the atmosphere always felt cold and lonely. It was hard to feel that here. You convinced yourself it was due to the warm lighting and the coziness of the place, not Jungkook’s presence.

"Should I offer you something to drink? I have wine, champagne… I also have beer and soju," Jungkook's voice sounded a little muffled as his head was deep inside the refrigerator. You chuckled softly at this, gently pressing your fingers against your mouth to prevent him from noticing.

"Soju is fine, thanks," you watched as he pulled out two bottles and placed them on the counter, quickly heading to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab two small glasses. "Didn't you invite more people?" you asked after seeing him stop in front of you, performing some completely unnecessary bottle tricks. At least he had made you laugh a little.

"I celebrated my birthday last week with my university friends, today I just wanted to invite the people from work," he served the alcohol until both glasses were filled to the brim, his gaze occasionally drifting to your face. He could act charismatic, but you could notice the slight tremble in his hands and how he licked his lips from time to time. "I didn't mention it earlier because I thought it wouldn't be important."

You nodded silently, drinking the shot he just handed you in one go. You needed to ease some of the tension in your body, and alcohol was definitely the best option for now. "So I guess it will just be the four of us."

"Oh, yeah, I thought you'd feel more comfortable this way," he murmured softly, tapping his fingers on the glass of his cup. "I know you don't like to hang out with too many people, especially if it's people you don't know."

You took the soju bottle and poured yourself another full glass. You'd need more than two bottles to get through this night without doing something you'd regret tomorrow. Jungkook wasn't helping at all.

"Thanks for that," you gave him a tight-lipped smile, watching the clear liquid in your glass. How much longer until Soomin and Taehyung arrived? "Oh, yes, almost forgot," you left the small gift bag you were carrying on the counter, noticing how Jungkook's eyes lit up again at what seemed like a new discovery to him. Hadn't he seen you bring it when you entered?

"Is this for me?" He looked at you with wide eyes and a big smile on his face.

You pinched your wrist tightly as your stomach twisted. "Uh, yeah, obviously, you're the only birthday person."

"Right, of course, I forgot," he clumsily took the bag in his hands, swallowing hard as he looked inside. "Can I open it now?"

You nodded silently, feeling your hands start to sweat at the thought of him opening your gift right then. You had planned on asking him to open it when you weren't around, when you wouldn’t have to see his face as he looked at it. There was something about having to give him something alone that made you feel too nervous for your own good.

You watched carefully as he pulled out the black velvet box, your eyes fixed on his expression as he lifted the lid and saw the contents.

It was only when you saw his cheeks turn a soft pink that you realized maybe buying him a ring hadn’t been the best idea...

"Is... is this... really for me?" He looked up, watching you with such hopeful, soft eyes and... so him that you couldn't help but blush as well.

This was not going as it was supposed to.

"Ah, yes, it's not necessary for you to wear it if you don't want to, I just thought you might like it and I bought it, but—" you stopped when you noticed him clumsily taking the ring out of the velvet and putting it on his index finger.

"I love it! Thank you so much, Y/N, I promise I’ll never take it off!" He stretched his arms toward you, and before you could do anything to stop him, he wrapped his arms around you over the counter, pulling you against him tightly.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as the scent of his shampoo and perfume hit you from so close, and the body heat from his arms didn't help with the accelerated pounding of your heart. What were you supposed to do now? Pulling away from the hug would be rude, but accepting it might be too unethical. He was your secretary. There was a line that couldn’t be crossed.

The thing was… you didn’t want to separate from the hug.

You relaxed a little at his touch, letting your own arms wrap around his body carefully. Not pressing too hard, as if doing it more gently would prevent your relationship from breaking down even further.

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. Both of you too absorbed in each other to really pay attention to the time or the situation you were in. You couldn’t remember the last time you let a man hug you like this.

“Y/N, I…” Jungkook pulled back a bit, just enough for your faces to be dangerously close. His arms were still tightly wrapped around you, refusing to let go at any moment.

You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and licked his lips. You weren’t supposed to notice these things, you reminded yourself, but it was too hard when it was all you had in your line of vision, and closing your eyes was even worse than keeping them open.

“I know you already know this, but I…” his voice was too soft, too low. Oh, shit, you knew what was coming, you had experienced it a few years ago. It was the same tone he used the first time he confessed his feelings to you. Your heart started pounding against your ribs, and you forced yourself to think that it was due to the anxiety and panic the situation caused you, that it was due to all the problems you’d have if he said it again. It wasn’t at all because you actually wanted to hear those words again.

Of course not.

Then everything happened too fast. You watched his eyes wander until they stopped on your lips, how his tongue ran over them, over that ring on the corner, and god, he was making your task of acting like a responsible adult so difficult. Soon his face began to move closer to yours, his gaze wandering from your mouth to your eyes, making sure you wanted this, kind of asking if you were okay with him getting dangerously close.

And for a moment, you thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe, just maybe, a moment like this could be accepted, even if just once, so you closed your eyes and waited. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, how his nose barely brushed against yours, and just as his lips were about to touch yours... the door knocked.

“Shit,” Jungkook muttered quietly, lowering his head as he took a deep breath. His arms quickly released their grip around your shoulders, leaving you with a cold feeling where they had been holding you, “It must be Taehyung and Soomin… I’ll go open,” he whispered, stumbling out of the kitchen to open the door, leaving you completely alone.

You covered your mouth with your hand, staring at a blank spot on the counter, replaying everything that had just happened in your head. You were screwed, you were really screwed, even though nothing happened, you were inches away from kissing him, and god knows what else you could have done…

You thought you heard Soomin’s cheerful voice getting closer, but you couldn’t understand what she was saying, you were too busy thinking about what the hell you were going to do with… well, whatever had just happened.

When you looked up, you found yourself facing Jungkook again, both exchanging a silent glance, both communicating something completely different. Yours reflected panic and terror, his, hope and joy.

You had crossed the damn line you promised not to touch, and it was all your fault.

Yes, you were screwed, and you needed to find a way to fix things as soon as possible.

Masterlist.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Dallas' head snaps back, and he stumbles with the force of an unexpected hand on his shoulder. For the briefest moment, he goes entirely limp, lets his fist hang in the air and doesn't try to scramble back to the boy on the steady retreat in front of him.

Darry's got him. And if he'd thought it through for even a second longer that would have scared the shit out of him. But then the fingers are tearin' into his jacket and forcin' him backward and he finally whips his head around and realizes the reality: two very pissed cops have got him.

And he immediately starts fightin' again. He writhes in their grip and the kid he'd been whalin' on is suddenly skitterin' back with renewed fear. Dallas bares his teeth once and figures he's made his point.

The next ten minutes are a blur.

His heart is poundin' in his ears and he can feel his pulse as it rattles under the cuffs the cops slapped on him the second they could get his wrists within a foot of each other and his head is achin' and he realizes for the first time he tastes blood but he can't focus on anythin' because all he can think is Fuck, Darry is never gonna forgive me for this.

He says it all the time. When he rolls in an hour late and thinks Darry's gonna kick my ass. Or when he lets Pony have just a little too much of his beer and the kid's gigglin' fit to wake the dead when Dallas 'n him sneak back in. Or when he hauls off and picks stupid fuckin' fights for no reason.

But this time he means it.

He groans and drops his head to his hands in the little holdin' cell they have him waitin' in until they process him. Last night's argument flashes vaguely in stills through his mind. He wasn't comfortable with people... carin'. He just didn't know what to do with it.

You can't tell me what to do, Darrel. Dallas flew up from the kitchen table and paced wildly away from Darry. Pony watched him with wary eyes. Soda bit his lip and looked at Dallas like he was tryin' to tell him a hundred things Dally didn't know how to understand.

Yes, I can. I won't have you actin' a fool and gettin' yourself hurt. Darry frowned and he's got these lines in his forehead Two jokes he never had before Dallas moved in. Dallas can't stand to see them.

You're not my brother. And you're not my dad. I ain't never had no one tellin' me what to do in my whole life and I'm not about to let you start. He'd slammed the screen door and gone straight to Tim's, started a fight, wound up at Buck's 'n drank til he vomited, woke up this mornin', and started another.

Darry was goin' to throw him to the fuckin' curb and never talk to him again. And Dallas deserved it. He wasn't one of the Curtis boys. No matter how hard he wanted to be.

"Name?" A cop had reappeared in his cell and he kicked himself for missin' it.

"Curtis." Dallas opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. "Fuck. No, sorry." Since when the fuck did he apologize to cops! "It's Winston. Dallas Winston."

The man just stared at him, Curtis already written across the top of the paper in big, bold letters. "Are you sober, kid?"

"Yes, I'm fuckin' sober! My name's not Curtis. How the fuck do you not know me?" To his horror, he feels hot tears in the back of his throat. He's just some no-good juvenile delinquent every bastard officer in this town knows by name except this one apparently because all he is is trouble. And Darry hated him.

"Sure, kid." The man shuffles his papers together. "Officer Matthews has already called your- big brother is it? He's on his way."

"He's not my brother!" And now he's actually cryin' which is bullshit! Who cares! Who cares that Darry is gonna look at him just like his father did. Like he was a burden he'd do anythin' to get rid of. Like the worst thing Dallas ever did was simply show up in his life one day. Dallas is used to this. He's not someone who stays. He was meant to be left. He's a violent dog. He only knows how to bite.

"Dallas?" Darry's voice makes him jump. He doesn't pull his hands away from where they're pressed so hard into his eyes that he sees stars. He can't bear to look up and see what he already knows he will—not hatred, but cold, cold indifference.

"Out." Darry isn't talkin' to him, Dallas can tell he's turned around by the way his voice bounces back to him off the cement walls. He flinches anyway. "Please." He adds like an afterthought and Dallas hears the door open and close.

"I'm goin' to touch you, ok?" Dallas doesn't say anythin', just makes a low noise in the back of his throat. He feels Darry gently tip his head back, eyes still squeezed shut. He feels him softly check the area on his jaw he knows will bruise tomorrow and run experimental fingers along his ribs for breaks. Dally hisses once and Darry immediately pulls back.

"Oh, Dallas." And suddenly Dallas is fuckin' cryin' again. Darry sounds so tired and worn down and old. Did Dallas do that? Did Dallas make him like that? And the sob that catches in his throat makes him choke.

But then he's pressed against Darry's chest and his hands are strong on Dalla's back and in his hair and Dallas doesn't even fight it. Just lets himself be held and doesn't even mind he feels as small as Ponyboy.

"Come on, Dallas Curtis. Let's go home."

[feathers-fins-and-fangs]

🌲 - what is your fictotype?

I am Mercutio :D

🪲 - do you miss your home? Or maybe you're happy that you're here?

I do miss Verona somewhat, though I don't exactly really wish to be back. I miss the people more than the place.

🐸 - do you have any sourcemates? If yes, who/what are they?

Unfortunately, no 😭

🌳 - in scale 1-10, how are you similar to your canon?

I say around a 9. I'm pretty much identical to canon except for some minor details.

🌿 - does your fictotype have a different sex/gender identity than your body/you?

Yes, I was a man. Although I sometimes use he/him pronouns now, I don't identify as male and don't present masculinely.

☘️ - what aspect of life does your identity affect the most?

Hmmmm that's hard to answer. I don't know if it counts but it definitely affects me as a person the most. Like, my gender, my sexual orientation, my beliefs, morals, etc.

🪴 - is your fictionkin experience unpleasant or enjoyable for you?

It's generally enjoyable, but there are times it can be unpleasant.

🍃 - what reminds you of your fictotype? (E.g.: a figurine, a doll, a tv series)

The colour purple, as that was my colour motif in source, as well as watching the musical I'm from.

🌄 - on what level is your identity? (E.g. spiritual, psychological, psychical)

I would say spiritual, but I think it's also partially psychological. I can't give much details though, as this is very vague for both my fictotypes.

🐢 - do you experience shifts? Of yes, how do they look like?

Sometimes, but they aren't common. Mainly mental, and sometimes I don't realise I shifted until afterwards and there's probably times I've shifted and I still don't know if it was really a shift or if I'm just trying to convince myself it was a shift. I also get phantom shifts, but they're rarer. I sometimes feel like I have my original hairstyle, and sometimes I feel like there is a hole in me where I was fatally injured (not like any pain or anything. Just a hole). The latter is significantly more upsetting, but luckily it's only happened twice.

🥝 - what is your source?

Roméo et Juliette, les enfants de Vérone

🐛 - how do you feel about fanarts of you and fanfictions?

Unfortunately most of them are shipart of me and Tybalt. And sometimes I come across fanart of me post-death, which is disturbing. I do enjoy other fanart of me, however.

🌵 - do you look exactly like in your source or do you look different? If you do, then what is different?

I look pretty much identical to me in the 2010 revival cast. I'm played by the same actor in the 2015 cast, however it's a different hairstyle and it just feels less 'me'. I guess it's because my source is very specifically the 2010 revival and nothing after that.

🥀 - what do you think about ships with you?

I can tolerate most ships, but the ship of me and Tybalt makes me uncomfortable. Like. He killed me. And we hated eachother for pretty much our entire lives. Just. Why.

🦕 - do you have/had a loved one in your source?

Yes! Benvolio my beloved ^^ ! And Romeo was such a wonderful friend (though I admit him whining about his love life 24/7 did get annoying). In the original play, I have a brother called Valentine, but he doesn't appear in my source and he doesn't exist at all in my canon. I don't really remember anything relating to my parents either, they're kind of a mystery that I haven't tried finding memories of. Especially since I don't have much memories in general, I just have information that feels right. I think I was pretty close to my uncle Prince Escalus when I was younger, though that kind of faded when I got older.

Alex's fictionkin ask game!

(mostly for fictional characters)

🌲 - what is your fictotype?

🪲 - do you miss your home? Or maybe you're happy that you're here?

🐸 - do you have any sourcemates? If yes, who/what are they?

🌳 - in scale 1-10, how are you similar to your canon?

🌿 - does your fictotype have a different sex/gender identity than your body/you?

☘️ - what aspect of life does your identity affect the most?

🪴 - is your fictionkin experience unpleasant or enjoyable for you?

🍃 - what reminds you of your fictotype? (E.g.: a figurine, a doll, a tv series)

🌄 - on what level is your identity? (E.g. spiritual, psychological, psychical)

🐢 - do you experience shifts? Of yes, how do they look like?

🥝 - what is your source?

🐛 - how do you feel about fanarts of you and fanfictions?

🌵 - do you look exactly like in your source or do you look different? If you do, then what is different?

🥀 - what do you think about ships with you?

🦕 - do you have/had a loved one in your source?

♪♪♪

So, yeah, that's all! :D

Reblog this, so the others can ask you questions or answer them all right now, if you want to :>

[raayllum]

The thing (or one of the things) about Ezran in early S7 is that while he's not being unreasonable, he is being hypocritical and unproductive ("You forgave Zubeia"). 7x01 is his breaking point after seasons of trying to keep everyone else together and weathering each conflict in as most an unaffected manner as possible, and he quite simply couldn't do it anymore.

Zubeia sent an assassin to kill your father? You long for your mother so deeply, you don't know your dad is dead yet, you do everything you can to get Zym back home because you love him (you can literally see through his eyes) and because it's the best chance for peace. Forgive her for killing your father and trying to kill you because she was grieving and Zym's dad for killing your mother because he's dead and they miss him. Put all your anger in a box at the one person who actually did kill him, because Zubeia saw her baby and changed her mind, and your found family sister (who is also missing) defected and spared your life that night, and he didn't.

Deny the ugly truths as long as you can by focusing on peace ("I ignored something that was true. I denied something that is undeniable"). Why should you have to acknowledge anger? Can't you just get past that? And then you can't, with the picture. (Then you can't, later, with yourself.)

Rayla comes back and Callum is fighting with her? Forgive and welcome her back unconditionally and try to counsel Callum through his big feelings. Rinse and repeat when Soren and then Zym goes missing. Advocate for and refuse to give up on Rex Igneous until he sends you sprawling into a wall.

Take on the responsibility of negotiating with the dragons. With Finnegrin (you offer up your hand, and so do your friends, your family). Talk your brother out of a more violent solution, and Rayla sides with you. She does again about hiding with the pearl and you save each other's lives. You look after home while she and Callum leave to save the world, and tell Soren the hard truth and deal with Viren till you don't. You try to spare Karim and his forces. You believe in peace. You believe in breaking the cycle.

"I am a king, and as a king, I choose love over strength."

"King of what? King of ashes?"

Ezran looks at what two years of trying to do the right peaceful thing has earned him — a destroyed kingdom while he was away — and he desperately, angrily, grasps at any semblance of control. This can't be all it was for. He feels like he's failed as a king, and is therefore a bad king. He needs to punish Sol Regem for it, but he can't. It needs to be Runaan's 'fault' because Runaan made him a king, even though keeping Runaan chained up in the Banther Lodge basement doesn't do anything but keep another family (Rayla's family) apart and make him feel in control. His pendulum swings so hard and strong, the target of his anger constantly changing to the most recent wound stacked upon themselves. After 7x02, he's not visibly angry at Runaan again until the finale; he's angrier at Callum than he is at Rayla because he thought he had control over his brother ("Callum. High Mage. We need you at this council meeting") even if that shouldn't be the goal or the focus at all anyway.

Callum doesn't betray him just because of Rayla, but because Ezran is perpetuating the cycle in a way that is antithetical to everything all three of them have striven to break, which is exactly what Callum points out to him. (If Rayla had surrendered or Callum had stayed, they just all likely would've been arrested, as it's unlikely Rayla and Runaan would've made it in the boat with Callum's magic, either. Would that have made Ezran, or anyone, feel better, hunting down his brother and friends, bringing them back in chains? No, and only Aanya is brave enough to say it out loud after Ez proves he values his bond with his brother / Callum's life over destroying Runaan's and Rayla's by proxy.)

"Because pain and loss feel so terrible inside, you want to hate. You want to hurt someone else."

What would killing or imprisoning Runaan (again) really have done?

"Hasn't he already been punished enough? Viren trapped him in a cursed coin for years. It's time to set him free." / "How much suffering is enough to pay for the mistakes we've made? No amount of suffering, yours or mine, will ever bring him back."

("As a father, I have a selfish wish, and that is for you and Ezran to be... free.")

"A life for a life. Is that justice?"

We also see that his scene with Runaan is one of the very last in the season. It's been months, if not nine, before Ezran was ready to have that conversation, ready to do with Runaan what he willingly did with Aaravos ("A king must look into the face and hear the words of those he judges"). A few days or a week by Callum's estimate wouldn't have been enough.

Ezran set Terry free to see if they could really trust him. He refused to do the same with Runaan even when it was causing clear pain and fracturing within his own family unit, nor did Runaan come to Katolis to face justice; it was just happenstance. But in Runaan being freed, he was then able to choose to come back to face Ezran's verdict. And then Ezran makes his own conscious choice.

"I'm going to forgive you. I don't know how, but I have to try."

He told everyone else that they had to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss in their hearts while also holding love. It was hard before. It was hard now. But he has to try.

(Nor does Harrow being in the bird erase the two years of mourning hell that Ezran went through, remove the crown from his brow, make things with Runaan any easier tbh, or mean he's 100% getting his father back.)

[zorosangell]

I’ll request for Cora then! I don’t really know what to request tho 🤔 but I love all your writing so I’m sure I’ll love whatever you write. how about just general headcanons? thank you! ❤️

⛥ﾟ・。corazon general and specific headcanons

synopsis: just some headcanons for the nine-foot tall blonde of my dreams

cw: none

a/n: this was so fun to write! thanks anon for the ask. i think i'm gonna open up my inbox for headcanons on other characters like kid or law or whatever

a/n 2: stay safe and rive carefully y'all. happy new year <3

general headcanons (you both are in a relationship)

— while i've seen others view cora as an overall shy, introverted person, i actually think the opposite, at least in some cases

— granted, he's not shouting from the mountain tops or actively going out of his way to talk to others, he is very extroverted with the people he knows and trusts

— like you, queen <3

— he likes to tell jokes and use his clumsiness to make you laugh, even if it isn't on purpose most of the time

— and when you do, he feels like he's on top of the world

— he's also very protective of you

— certain things in your relationship he likes to take a back seat on, but your safety is not one of them

— he's seen some things, and he'll be damned if something happens to you because of his negligence

— in a crowded room, he'll position himself behind you, acting as a guard dog as he keeps tabs on all possible threats

— in a bar, he'll keep a watchful eye on your drink and make sure an arm is around your waist at all times

— on the sidewalk, he will always, always make sure he's on the street side

— but that ties in with him being a perfect gentleman

— that being said... YOU NEVER HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING

— actually gets offended if you try

— you're his lady; when you're with him, you don't lift a finger

— he may be on a marine's salary but when it comes to you he acts as if he has all the money in the world

— loves to splurge on you

"aw, baby, look! that necklace would look great on you, wouldn't it!"

"cora, honey, it's 90,000 berries... and you just got me a 70,000 berry bracelet last week"

"and?"

— honestly not very opinionated, doesn't really have many preferences when it comes to material things

— often has you order for him at restaurants, or pick out his clothes for the day

— hates arguing and fighting in general (though arguments are few and far between for you both anyway)

— if you don't like kids, that might be a bit of a deal breaker, seeing as law is a large part of his life

— not only that, but if you just are not a kind or decent person, this is not the man for you

— but trust, if you hit it off with law, you will have this man's heart forever (easier said than done tho)

specific headcanon (story-ish i guess)

— for the sake of whatever, let's say you're the nurse of doflamingo's crew (by circumstance, you're still a good person)

— when you first joined, cora was floored by your beauty; like actually, he fell flat on his face when doflamingo introduced you to the crew

— he was baffled that someone like you was a pirate, and even more so when you opened your mouth to reveal that you were incredibly kind and warm hearted

— (he would later learn that you had been blackmailed by his brother into joining the crew—the warlord promised no harm would come to your family if you joined him)

— initially, he was both enamored and suspicious, seeing as only those with cruel intentions joined his brother's crew

— but as time went by, he was quick to learn that it was quite the opposite, and quick to grow a certain fondness for you

— i imagine cora as a slow burner, so of course all of this happens over a decent amount of time

— but within that time you manage to weasel your way into his heart

— being the ship's nurse, you are always tasked with patching him up after his mishaps

— even though you do slip up and let out a chuckle or two, it never comes from a place of malice, unlike the others

— and even still, you scold and warn him about being careful around fires and hot liquids

— though, most of the time, it goes in one ear and out the other

— sometimes he's too preoccupied with your soft hands on him, or your pretty eyes locked with his

— sidebar: he blushes like a school girl because of his fair skin, i'm talking full on tomato

— anyway, it isn't long before you two become incredibly close

— communicating is a bit of a hassle given his silence, but he appreciates your constant effort

— he makes a point to keep you as far away from doflamingo as possible, often sending you on "errands" to avoid the two of you from interacting

— and when he can't do that, he floats around, not straying too far away as his brother pulls you aside for a chat or asks you to check a pain on his abdomen (barf)

— that doesn't just apply for his brother, btw

— he does that for everyone on the crew, executive or not

— no one gets you on your own without him knowing about it

— on the outside looking in it might sound stalker-ish, but in his mind he justified it as performing his duty as a marine

— all he was doing was protecting a helpless... sweet-smelling... adorably-laughing... angel-looking... young woman

— but in actuality, he was protecting his dream girl

— his dream girl who absolutely loves kids! (if you don't, then, once again, cora might not be the one for you)

— you always treat baby 5 and buffalo with such kindness, even when they act like little monsters; making sure they take their baths, making sure they eat, giving them their monthly check-ups

— it's one of the many things cora loves about your personality

— as well as nurse, you play the role of nanny to the kids onboard

— and your mothering only expands when law and dellinger join the crew

— fast forward to when cora is about to take law away, he comes to you first, severely surprising you by reciting a passionate dissertation as to why you should join him

— he couldn't imagine leaving you behind in the clutches of his brother; no protection, no one to shield you from the horrors of the family

— so it was only natural that his heart fell to his ass when you declined, but your reasoning was that doflamingo still had your family hostage

— though, on one particular night, when you had happened to walk past the door to his study, you overheard him talking to the other executives about how gullible you were, as he had killed your family years ago

— distraught, you ran away with cora and law that night

— and it was bbq chicken from there...

[sweetnnaivete]

the black brothers.

sirius:

walburga’s favorite, until he was sorted into gryffindor. he encapsulated the traits of a true gryffindor: fiercely loyal, incredibly brave, prideful to a fault, and prone to changes in temper, much like walburga herself (who was almost a gryffindor, but she fought against it and ended up the perfect slytherin pupil). above all else, the trait that made sirius stand out was his deeply caring nature. while all his friends were more preoccupied with themselves than with others (self-obsessed james, selfish peter, and self-conscious remus), sirius truly believed in helping others, as he did with regulus, with harry, and so on.

he always had a deep connection and understanding for his little brother, having practically raised the boy, and he saw regulus in everyone younger than him. when he left home, he thought about bringing regulus, but he knew that was selfish. it was regulus’s turn to grow up. and perhaps that was cruel, but he was raised by walburga. tough love was his upbringing, and he knew of nothing else until he found his friends, a different kind of love – warm, unrelenting, gentle. the type of love he’d always given but never received. regulus had to find it for himself, and he wouldn’t find it in his creepy little friends.

sirius was no casanova, but he was cool, mixing bourgeois wizard style with working class muggle style and growing his hair out like a rockstar. it was as effortless as it looked, and authentic to his personality as well. all the girls loved him, but often only platonically. it was clear he was in love with james, and remus was in love with him. truth be told, sirius dismissed remus at first, for being too quiet and boring. but he realized his mistake soon. he became fascinated with the mysterious boy, and he was the one who discovered that he was a werewolf. it was only later in life that they truly fell in love, and the road to come to that realization was treacherous and full of regret. the three great loves of his life were james, remus, and, surprisingly, lily. lily and sirius were like siblings, and although they only really got along in their twenties, they became each others’ support systems.

sirius got many tattoos, but his favorites were a stag’s antlers, a lily flower, the phases of the moon, and the crown of a prince.

regulus:

cold, harsh, sinister – orion’s copy. maybe that’s why walburga was always scared of the little boy that hung around dark corners with the house elf, because in all other aspects he was the perfect son. he pursued his studies religiously, going above and beyond the level expected for his age, always feeling an attraction to powerful dark magic. unlike his predecessors, he wasn’t talented socially, and couldn’t make friends for the life of him – a thing the rest of his family relied on to uphold their status in society. it was a wonder barty crouch’s boy took a liking to the child, otherwise he would’ve gone to hogwarts without a single ally, and that could’ve been even more detrimental to the black family legacy than a gryffindor son. barty crouch jr brought a bit of humanity into the cold husk of a boy, and there would always be a part of regulus that loved barty.

but the only one he had always loved was sirius. his older brother was the only person who had ever tried to understand him, instead of dismissing him as an enigma. sirius saw the softness, the awkwardness, not just his morbid nature. when he left, regulus waited like a princess in a tower for him to return and rescue him, but he never did. it got into his head: what had regulus done that was so terrible that his own brother hated him? he stopped talking, stopped eating, stopped caring about his academics, and walburga’s wrath toward him worsened. when he got the dark mark, something he’d always wanted, it felt wrong to him. he was no longer interested in the dark arts, and he had never been very interested in the cause. he missed being loved.

he found himself becoming friends with kreacher again, as he was in childhood, before walburga forbid him. she couldn’t control him anymore; he was her only heir, and he was working alongside the most dangerous wizard alive. he knew he was a threat. kreacher and him understood each other, and regulus vowed to protect the elf from harm. so, naturally, when he discovered what voldemort had done to kreacher, he knew it had to be amended.

his last acts of life were those of devotion and love, and his last thought was of sirius.

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain. abuse is depicted in this one right off the bat,ptsd/nightmares, panty sniffing, face sitting, over stim, biting, squirting, i think our wolf just hates us okay? because everytime i write her, she comes out so mean.

please click this link! each click helps me earn some extra money, as well as each person that clicks the link and signs up (its completely free, and takes 0 time), a completely harmless way to earn some extra cash that doesn't involve giving me any of your own!

happy new years :) feel free to send thots/ideas to my inbox for these babes (or even for the other 141 fellas)

series masterlist here.

PART THREE: hurts si’

“You dumb bitch, look what you did!” Glass clattered and a hand made contact with your face, causing something to drop from your hands as they flew to your face for protection, a whimper leaving your puckered lips as sharp shards scatter about the ground and imbed in the skin of your legs, stinging. “Are you fuckin’ dropping shit now? Huh?” Another blow, this one landing on your ear, causing it to ring and your eyes to blur for a moment as you wobbled on the balls of your feet, swaying from side to side. The man yelling at you was larger than you, older. His breath was hot and sour as he screamed in your face, his words sounding a million miles away as you tried to focus. What had you done this time? It wasn’t you that had knocked over the glass of water..you weren’t even near that side of the table..it was all your brother, all the boy who sat and watched as your father threatened to beat you black and blue again for something that you didn’t do. 

The ringing becomes too much, you fall to your knees and groan, head pounding and eyesight blurry, you barely notice the shards of whatever dish had fallen from your hands pushing further into the skin of your shins as you sink to the rough wood floor of the kitchen. 

“...OFF THE FUCKING FLOOR, OMEGA!” He screamed, your hearing seeming to come back around, or maybe he just bellowed loud enough to overpower the ringing..you shook violently, fear and pain ringing through your body as he grabbed you by the hair on your scalp, dragging you across the ground, pushing the sharp bits of glass deeper into your skin..you would have to go digging to get them out now..

“No!NO! Papa, Papa please!” Your voice was frantic, shrill eyes wide as they finally focused enough to comprehend where he was pulling you off to, the familiar dingey wooden door of your own personal hell hole coming into sight. You’d only just been allowed out after..you couldn’t even remember how long..long enough that the days blurred together and you couldn’t tell how many tomorrows had come and passed. “No! I’ll be good, i’ll be good!” You clawed at his arm above you, trying desperately to pry his alpha strength off of your head, kicking your legs in an effort to slow him down, to buy yourself enough time to talk him out of it. 

“There’s no such thing as a good Omega, you’re living proof!” He growls, throwing open the deadbolt to the door before swinging it open. The darkness awaiting you seemed thicker than usual. “You all deserve to be punished! To be hid, to be locked away and never looked at again! You deserve to be treated like the runts and vermin you fucking are! Your mother tricked me into thinking that she was sweet and innocent, that she needed me to protect her, to fill her with little alpha pups, and then she gave me you! And then you killed her when you breathed life and stole hers, and i saw you for what you are, nothing but a conniving, evil monster!” He held your hair tightly at the top of the stairs, forcing you to look up into his eyes as he ranted at you, for something that you didn’t even remember. Weren’t capable of remembering..

He raised you off of your feet and your eyes widened, a shrill plea leaving your chest “NO, NO! N-AHHGH!”

Simon lay in bed, hands balled into fists behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, the moon dancing across it as it shined through his window, jaw clenched as he listened to you whimper and moan through the thin wall separating your room from his. His senses were on high alert, his wolf haywire in his mind. It took every ounce of self control he had not to jerk off to the smell of you, once he started he knows he probably wouldn’t ever stop, not until he’d had the real thing and not just the thought of you. He knew that his cock was probably going to be perpetually hard now, never going to go down until he’d stuffed the meaty length of it into your sweet smelling cunt, not until he’d fucked it good and stuffed it full of his pups would he even be able to think like a normal alpha again. 

The smell of you was intoxicating. It flooded his senses and over powered his mind. You were sweet smelling, decadent he could even say. He had noted it before you’d been in heat but now that you were, even in just the beginning stages, it was more powerful, more endearing and mouth watering. It was enough to make a man forget how to behave. It was enough to drive an Alpha into delirium, to trigger his own rut. 

He grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to think about anything other than you, shoving a knife into someone's chest, pizza and a cheap pint, johnny- no! Not that scottish prick! His wolf howled and he grunted, fisting his own hair just to feel something to keep himself grounded. Johnny wouldn’t shut his trap, his intrusive thoughts and his lack of a thought process allowing him to just blurt out how good you smelled, he could just hear his voice in his head, could hear him “Bet that lit’le cunt is nie’ n warm, wet ‘n sloppy, eh LT? Smells like a fookin’ dream..” He was just shooting up in bed with a growl at imaginary Johnny when your scream pierced his ears, his bedroom door slammed against the wall, ricocheting as he busted through yours after flying down the hallway, practically ripping it off of its hinges. He looked around wildly, looking for any sign of an intruder, ready to fight off some stray Alpha or Beta that might have followed your pheromones from town in hopes of mating and breeding you against your will in the middle of the night. 

He saw nobody, saw nothing but you thrashing wildly in the middle of the king sized bed you had built your nest upon, spotting the hoodie he’d shrugged off of his body and laid in the middle of your spot while you took a hot bath earlier in the day, satisfied that he could leave you alone with something to scent to help calm you down. He had paid enough attention in Omega anatomy class to remember that that was something that you guys craved, and just the scent of a strong Alpha could help ease the pain wrought by your heat. You were in pain, he decided, that was why you had screamed as you had, there was nothing for him to protect you from, nothing for him to keep you safe from in your vulnerable state. 

He had just wrestled his wolf back from the forefront of his mind and was slowly backing away from your bed and back towards the hallway when you let loose another scream, this one was one of pure terror. You were sat straight up in bed, his fight or flight triggered, he throws himself at you, wrapping his arms around you as he throws you back down, tucking you into his body as he looses a mean growl, baring his teeth as he looked all about, trying to find what you were so terrified of. 

“No!NO!” You screamed, thrashing and bucking under him, your eyes squeezed shut. He looks down at you, wolf going crazy. “Help her! HELP HER YOU BIG DUMB OAF CAN’T YOU SEE SHE’S SCARED?!” His wolf whimpered, howled, only making Simon’s heart race more as he tried to form a coherent thought. 

“Rosie..” He grunted, patting your face lightly,  still clutching you to his body as best as he could, legs on either side of you as he hovered over you on the bed. “Rosie, lovie, wake up-wake up, lovie..” He patted your face, again, a little harder this time and your eyes finally fluttered, looking up at him. 

“S’mon?” You whispered, hands clutching the chest of his tank top from where your arms were trapped between the both of your bodies, unable to move with his weight pressed against yours. “Had a bad dream..”

He sighs, head leaning down so his forehead is touching yours, noses brushing against each other. “I know, lovie, i know.” He says after a moment, shifting his body so that you’re laying on top of him, using his chest and shoulders as a pillow, legs entwined with his own. All thoughts of breeding you gone and out the window for now, his only thought and instinct to keep you safe. “Not goin’ anywhere okay? Gonna stay right 

‘ere an’ keep you safe..” 

And he did, letting you doze back off on top of him, his mind still reeling as he tried to imagine exactly what had happened in that head of yours to make you scream with such terror, to have you so scared that he could feel your body shaking. He wanted, no he needed to know so that he could make sure you were never scared of it again. So he could take it and obliterate it for ever making you feel anything but safe under the same roof as him. 

Eventually, his wolf and his mind calmed down and he was able to lull himself into a light sleep of his own, his arms not moving from around you. 

You wake to a warmth spread from your head to your toes, a dampness to your skin that had you wriggling out of your sleep shirt with eyes closed still, not registering the soft body beneath you until you went to plop your head back down and it didn’t sink into the soft down of your pillow, but the scraggly hairs of a muscular, wide chest that was poking out of the top of a gray tank top, the kind a man would wear under his tshirt if he wanted the extra layers, or sleep in, you supposed. You knew immediately that it was Simon and as if on cue your wolf fought her way to to the front of your mind, your aching cunt clenching around nothing but your sopping panties as you realized that your mound wasn’t too far from where his cock would be, your leg thrown over his waist, held there by one of his large, meaty hands gripping your equally meaty thigh. 

“Look at him, our pretty Alpha..so handsome, so strong..” She wasn’t wrong, he was pretty. His skull mask was nowhere to be found, and to say it was strange to not see it adorned on his face would be an understatement, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. “Want to give him pretty little pups, let him fill us, please, please, please! I’ll be so good! I promise!” You groan, trying to shut her voice out, though it was hard to do. At this stage, your mind belonged to her, this was her time, and you had always let it be, but you hadn’t had an Alpha home during your heat in..awhile. 

You let your eyes roam over his face for a while, failing to notice the way his breathing changes as he fully wakes up, aware of your gaze. He has such a strong jaw, a strong, handsome face, sweet looking even, you would say, despite the scars lingering along his pale skin. Your lips quiver at the realization that someone had probably put them there and that thought alone made you want to cry because how could anyone ever want to hurt this perfect specimen of an alpha? His nose is terribly crooked, as if it had been broken on more than one occasion..you would know, yours had been broken at least three times that you remembered. You wanted to sit on it. To feel his nose brush against your aching, throbbing clit, to feel his scruff of a beard that had grown over night against the apex of your thighs, leaving beard burn as he fucks you with his wet, strong tongue. 

You don’t notice that your hips are bucking against the side of his hard stomach, don’t realize you’ve whimpered until his hand squeezes your thigh, fingers marking the skin from the way that he grips at it, brown eyes suddenly shot open and staring you down, full lips tugged into a wicked smirk. 

“Easy there, babygirl..” He grunts, voice thick and raspy after not having used it for a bit. 

You pout at his words,  wolf whimpering. The desperate noise leaves your throat and you feel no shame as your hips buck again, needing the friction. 

“Hurts Si’..” You whimper, not giving a damn to ask why he was in your bed in the first place. You remembered having a nightmare, remembered him vaguely waking you from it. You assume he had stayed to make sure you were okay. “Need you..need you to help me, Simon..please?” 

He closes his own eyes at your words, fingers digging further into the fat of your thigh, as if he’s trying to control himself. You don’t want him to, you want hm to lose control, to use you in any way he saw fit, you wouldn’t fight him, would be as pliable for him as you could possibly be, you just wanted to breathe in his scent, suck his cock into your aching pussy for a bit..like a chew toy for the wolf taking over your mind. 

You can’t help but to giggle for a second at the thought, you couldn’t help but to think that his cock was probably big enough to pose as a chew toy anyway, no way you could get your mouth all the way around it if he let suck it. 

“Rosi-”

“Simonnn” You preen, pouting at him and you can just feel the resolve break. Oh! What a good Alpha, not making us beg! “Please help me..hurts..need you so bad..please!”

A growl bubbles in his chest and you could how in excitement knowing you’ve won, “Fine!” Knowing he’s about to bully his cock into your cunt until he’s had his fill, until you’re crying and begging him for more, until he’s knocked you up good with one of his little blonde pups- “But i’m not going to fuck you,” A whine as you pout and you watch his eyes widen, watch him fight with himself for a second as he shakes his head, as if shutting up that voice that you  know he hears too. “No-don’t do that babygirl..You listen to me now.” The sternness in his voice catches your attention, your cunt pulsing at the way it radiates through you. “I want to fuck you so bad, lovie, want to sit you on my cock for fuckin’ hours, believe me, it’s all ‘ve been able to think about since I walked into that garden..but I can’t do it when you’re not all the way there, when you’re delirious in heat..” A pout that damn near breaks him, that definitely breaks the wolf in his head, howling ricocheting in his ears as he tries to talk. “I’m going to fuck you, lovie, but not until your heat is done, yeah? Don’t worry babygirl, m’still gonna help you though, know it hurts, baby, know you need my help..” 

You hadn’t realized he had bunched the waistband of your panties in his hand until then, letting go of your thigh to pull at the seam of the fabric, ripping it apart and tugging it from your mound. You watch with wide eyes as he brings the soaked cotton to his crooked nose, closing his eyes as he takes a long sniff, a deep growl radiating through the room as he opens his eyes, staring straight into yours as his fist clenches around your panties. 

“Cm’ere, babygirl.” He grunts, pulling at you so that you’re sitting directly on his chest, pussy leaving a wet swatch in his chest hairs as he squeezes both hips. “Wanna sit on my face, don’t you? Saw the way you were looking at me, know just what you were thinkin’ huh?” You nod your head, but make no move to actually do it. You’re so big? What if you suffocate him? Bitch shut the fuck up and let him eat your fucking pussy, you whiney brat! He’s a big boy, he can fucking take it! You had the random thought that your wolf might actually try and kill you if you didn’t let her enjoy this, if you didn’t swallow your self conscious thoughts and let this glorious man eat you for breakfast. “Aht-aht, stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking-” He pulls your hips so you’re sitting just below his neck now, your hands immediately catching yourself on the headboard, preventing him from pulling you up past his chin. He narrows his eyes at you, you see him shake his head, the firm line his plus lips are set in. A warning to behave and let him be in control. “Don’t-you want this, don’t you..want me to help you? Need me to make it better?” 

“Pleas-ungh” In a show of pure strength, he has you fully sat on his face before you can finish the word, warm, thick tongue devouring you as swirls it around your clit, you can’t help the rock of your hips or the way your head throws back as you moan when his tongue teases your aching whole, nose rubbing against your clit the way you imagined it when you tilted your hips. 

He groans beneath you, hands splayed on your bare ass cheeks, holding you in place as he grips so hard you’re sure his fingerprints will be permanently indented into your skin, not that you think you’d really mind it. “That’s it lovie, ride my face..”

You didn’t have to be told twice now that you had started. The way his tongue worked you open, the way he held you in place but still let you rut your hips against his face, making a slimy, glistening mess..his stubble brushed against your inner thighs, keeping you grounded from coming on the spot, though it doesn’t last for long. He’s got you coming within moments, skilled tongue going between clit and your pulsing hole, giving you what you needed as you rocked back and forth, taking what you wanted. “Tha’s a good girl, lovie..give me one more?” 

You’re not sure how many ‘one more’s’ you give him, but by the time he’s got you on the brink of over stimulation, he’s got his whole tongue buried in your hole, his teeth nibbling at your clit as you buck and tremble, tears brimming your eyes as you grip his hair in each hand, tugging harshly. His hands pushed up your shirt, exposing your soft, pudgy belly to him as he squeezed your tits in each of his large palms, fingers playing with your nipples as he fucks you with his mouth, cries and whimpers leaving your own. 

“Si-oh-mm, please! I can-so good, feel’s so good!” You’re a babbling mess, cheeks red as your thighs shake, still clenched around his head. He’s been at it for almost an hour and you swear he’s barely come up from air, he’s barely let you move off of his face for more than a moment, his mouth leaving your cunt only to praise you or bite into meat of your thighs, leaving a harsh imprint of his mouth, a reminder that this is in fact real. You’re on the brink of another when you realize that this one feels different, feels almost painful, even. “Si-mo-n, si-ugh-umf..hur-urts…” You screech out, swatting at the top of his head, he only grunts, pulling you down farther onto his mouth, his hands going back to grip your tighs, leaving your precious tits unattended as he does, holding you there as he brings another harsh bite to your clit, sending you over the edge. “Simon!” You shout, vision going blurry as something snaps in your lower belly, a gush of fluid coming from your cunt that has your cheeks heating as Simon groans out below you, lapping it up as quickly as it comes out, slurping even as he continues to make out with your pussy as you slouch against the headboard, being sure to avoid your overly sensitive clit as he does, leaving open mouthed kisses to your mound that honestly could have had you coming again if you weren’t entirely fucked out just from his mouth. How many was that? Five? Six? 

“You okay up there babygirl?” His voice is thick and raspy, sexy as he peeks up at you from between your still shaking legs. All you can do is nod meekly, unsure of what to say, mind oddly quiet as you pant out breaths, trying to come down from such an epic high. “Squirted al’over me lovie, legs are still shakin’” He’s chuckling at you, big warm hands rubbing your thighs in an effort to soothe the shaking. 

“M’sleepy, si’” You whimper out, still sagged against the headboard, mind gone numb, legs gone soft, heat and wolf satiated for the time being. 

“Yeah?” He asks, voice soft as he sits up slowly, sliding you down his body. Your clit catches on his chest hairs and the fabric of his now soaked tank top on the way down and your hips jumps, your whimper ringing out as he shushes you, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. “Need’ta nap baby?” 

Your eyes are already closing before you can get the words out, before you can even nod your head, you barely register the way his lips kiss the side of your head as he leans back with you in his arms, the way his scent floods your senses, easing you into an easy slumber, as if that had been his plan all along. The last thing you remember before sleep takes you completely is wondering what the hell you had gotten yourself into with him..

taglist: @wise-owl @bingoz @astrxsee @gazsluckyhat @howlerwolfmax @thisbitch-6 @littlelovebug98 @ungodlydilf @madsothree

[anxiousnerdwritings]

It’s barely even Christmas and I saw a video on TikTok about a mum who somehow didn’t realize that she got three or four times the amount of gifts for one child then the other so there was literally like a massive pile of gifts and then a very noticeably smaller pile of gifts for the other child and all I could think about was Ginny and Twin!Reader and Molly having that issue

Them waking up and running to the Christmas tree and seeing everyone has a pile of gifts whether it’s from Arthur and Molly then maybe a few from some extended relatives or friends while the Reader just has a Weasley jumper in his least favourite colour and some homemade sweets and whatever it was Percy scraped the money for to get him and he’s all ecstatic because at least this year she didn’t forget to knit his jumper but Percy is trying to refrain from ripping out his own hair on the other side of the room because Ginny is unwrapping a Dudley amount of gifts while her baby brother is just sitting there, crossed legged in his ugly fucking sweater on the ground, smiling and trying not to cry the more gifts she goes through

I hate how accurate this would be for Molly regarding Weasley!Twin!Reader. She’s so tunnel vision on her precious baby girl that she totally forgets Twin!Reader altogether. It isn’t until she and Arthur are wrapping all the gifts late at night while all the kids are asleep that Arthur asks where Twin!Reader’s presents are. And you know damn well Molly won’t admit that she forgot to get him anything either. Cause she didn’t, she swears she didn’t. She just misplaced said gifts. That doesn’t make her a bad mother, accidents happen after all. Right? Meanwhile Arthur watches as she races around the house grabbing what spare yarn she has lying around and her magical knitting needles frantically knitting away as she tosses wildly different colors of yarn at them. The sweater Weasley!Twin!Reader ends up with on Christmas is a mash of hideous non-correlating colors and it wasn’t even wrapped in festive colored paper like the other siblings’ were, no his was crudely bunched up in brown paper. Not to mention the homemade sweets he gets with it aren’t even nicely wrapped either, they were instead hastily tossed into a napkin moments before the kids woke up and started making their way downstairs. The only true gift Weasley!Twin!Reader has is the one Percy managed to get for him, beautifully wrapped and overall perfect. (I also love to think that Ginny and Twin!Reader always hand make each other gifts every Christmas, something they’ve made into their own little tradition for one another so fortunately the Reader would also have that to look forward to.)

I just imagine a very half asleep Percy making his way downstairs, barely coherent about anything going on, until he notices the very tiny, thrown together “pile” off in the corner of the room and he just knows whose gifts those are for and suddenly he’s wide awake, blood pressure already rising. And it’s not even sunrise yet. When I tell you this boy would be staring Molly down, down to the depths of hell, I fucking mean it. Ginny may be Molly’s baby, but Twin!Reader is Percy’s and he won’t let this slide.

I could also see Molly telling Arthur to run to the shed and go pull something out of there to add to Weasley!Twin!Reader’s small “pile” of gifts. But I would really like to think that Arthur actually did get Weasley!Twin!Reader a gift on his own wholeheartedly with him in mind, of course it’s muggle related but it still means more than what Molly tried to put together. Especially if Weasley!Twin!Reader shares his father’s fascination with the muggle world. If that were the case then I could see Arthur being much closer to the Reader. He still isn’t necessarily a father to him as he should be but it’s a hell of a lot more of a relationship than what Molly can say she has with Weasley!Twin!Reader.

When Ginny is opening her plethora of gifts that just somehow seem to never end, she would wholeheartedly try to share some of them with Twin!Reader to open or trying to include him in on it somehow but Molly steps in, shooing Twin!Reader away and talking about how those are just for her and her alone. Meanwhile, Percy is clutching the Reader close as Twin!Reader smiles through watery eyes trying so hard not to cry and ruin the day for everyone. He wants to be supportive and he’s more than happy with the gifts he did get but seeing the looks on all his sibling’s faces, even the shameful look Arthur throws his way, he knows that none of this is acceptable. The only one who seems content is of course Molly.

I wouldn’t put it past Molly to hide/toss any gifts that Weasley!Twin!Reader got from any of their other relatives. Especially in the case of Weasley!Reader resembling the Black family side, courtesy of Grandma Cedrella. Particularly if Cedrella herself took to spoiling the Reader over any of the other kids in the family. I could just see there being a hidden wall in the attic with the ghoul where Molly has taken to keeping all the Reader’s other presents. Leave it to Harry and Ron to find it one day and finally so many things make sense. Like all the times Cedrella wrote to Weasley!Twin!Reader about how he liked the gifts she picked out for him and if there was anything specific she should get him next time or when she’d ask him in person at the next family get together. Meanwhile all this time everyone thought she was just in her old age and misremembering.

It isn’t until Weasley!Twin!Reader attends Hogwarts and makes his own friends that his little Christmas gift pile gets bigger and bigger each year until it goes unnoticed whether Molly actually went out of her way to get him something that year or not. Even his Slytherin housemates have gotten him more presents than Molly can ever admit to. Hell, not only them but their pureblood families have gone so far to add Weasley!Twin!Reader to their Christmas lists. So have the teachers. You should have seen Molly’s face when she found out one year the Reader went to the Zabini’s for the holidays after believing the Reader had stayed at Hogwarts over the break. And the only reason she thought that was because she never saw Weasley!Reader get off the train.

And Molly better brace herself when Lestrange!Daughter!OC (really gotta come up with a name for her) finds out. She would of course go absolutely hog wild spoiling her darling as he should be, but she will also be out for blood just as much. Imagine the look 👀 n Molly’s face when everyone wakes up on Christmas Day to an absolutely ridiculous amount of gifts littering the house, literally a pile touching the ceiling, nearly overflowing the house and each and everyone is addressed to Weasley!Reader. Lestrange!Daughter!OC going out of her way to not only spoil her darling herself but reaching out and making her rounds to everyone she knows who cares about Weasley!Reader and ensuring their gifts make it to him. Especially Cedrella’s. Her darling will never go without or feel less than ever again, not on her fucking watch. And even if Molly were to try and intercept Weasley!Reader’s gifts (literally imagining her pulling a Vernon with the Hogwarts letters), Lestrange!Daughter!OC has an army of house-elves tasked with making sure those presents get to who they’re meant for.

[shoopsthereitis]

jegulus | 1k words

lil jegulus I wrote for a secret santa for a dear friend. sirius finding out about jegulus at hogwarts

“James, no,” Regulus insists, pressing a hand to James’ chest in the corridor.

“Come on, Reg, please? No one’s around. It’s late, and I haven’t seen you in days.” James knows he’s being reckless, but he can’t help it. He didn’t mean to run into Regulus, but when he spotted him during his Prefect rounds, he couldn’t resist catching up, feeling drawn to him like a magnet. He’s missed him more than he probably should admit—more than what’s acceptable for two people who’ve been secretly dating for four months.

It all started by accident. A few months ago, James found himself in the library needing to study, but it was surprisingly crowded for a Thursday. He wandered around, searching for a place to sit, and the only available seat was at a table with Regulus. Reluctantly, Regulus let him join, and by the end of the night, James was completely smitten. After that, hallway run-ins where James would change course just to walk Regulus to class, and Quidditch changing room chats became weekly occurrences, and it all fell together naturally. Neither of them had expected to fall for the other, so they’ve been taking it slow. 

Now, four months later, they’re still together, and James couldn’t be happier. But with how protective Sirius is of his brother, Regulus has insisted they keep the whole thing a secret. James gets it, but part of him hates lying to his best friend. He’s been trying to convince Regulus that they should tell him now that they’re serious. Thankfully, Regulus is warming to the idea.

“We could go back to my dorm? I think Remus, Sirius, and Pete are at the library,” James offers.

“After the other day when I was trapped in your room under the invisibility cloak, I don’t want to take any chances. I missed Potions because of that, and Sirius nearly caught us.” 

“But he didn’t,” James grins. Regulus rolls his eyes, the way James loves because he only does it when he has no snarky comment to say back.

“Anyone could find us here, we’re not exactly hidden.” Regulus’ body betrays his words when he steps closer to James, his hands reaching out for his robes. James instinctively brings him in, pulling their bodies flush. 

Running a hand through the soft strands of Regulus’ curls, he tips his head back, their eyes meeting. “Regulus,” James starts, feeling completely lost in his storm grey eyes, “I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

There’s a war going on behind Regulus’ eyes, weighing his options, debating the risks. Ultimately, he gives in, sending James a small nod before leaning up. The moment their lips touch, the rest of the world falls away. There’s only thoughts of RegulusRegulusRegulus.

This is what always happens with the two of them. They get utterly sucked into each other’s orbit, and are unable to notice anything else. Even the other day in James’ dorm, they were much too close to getting caught, not realising the door had clicked open until they heard Sirius and Peter’s voices. Regulus practically rolled off the bed, and James had to cough and stomp his foot to cover the thud of Regulus’ body hitting  the floor as he covered himself with the cloak.

“James, I missed you,” Regulus whispers against his lips, and it makes James' heart sing. It always takes a few minutes for Regulus’ walls to come down, but when they do, when he gets soft and open with how he feels—there’s nothing like it.

Heart fluttering from Regulus’ words and his body lit up from Regulus’ touch, James stops worrying about where they are. Unfortunately, he probably should start paying more attention.

“What in Merlin’s name is this?”

They pull apart, James whirling around to find Sirius. His arms are crossed, a scowl on his face, and he looks pissed. James has half a mind to run, but that thought fades when he turns and sees Regulus, whose expression mirrors Sirius'—scowl and everything.

“What does it look like, Sirius? I’m kissing James,” Regulus says dryly. 

“I can see that, Regulus. What I’m confused about is why it doesn’t look to me like a first kiss,” Sirius responds. 

James’ palms start to sweat. If there’s one place you don’t want to be, it’s in the middle of a fight between the Black Brothers. “Sirius, we were going to tell you—”

“Tell me what? That you’ve been kissing my brother? Cus it sure doesn’t seem like you were going to tell me.”

“I—we—the thing is—” James is floundering. He knows it, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“We’ve been seeing each other for four months. We weren’t going to tell you unless it became something worth telling. Which it has, so surprise! James and I are dating.”

Heart flooding with warmth, James can’t help but look at Regulus, likely with a dopey look on his face. Regulus’ lips twitch quickly when his eyes shift sidelong to James.

“Please don’t be mad, Sirius. I really like him. I wanted to tell you, I swear—”

“Prongs, relax.” Sirius’ expression softens into a small smile as he steps forward, placing his hands on James’ shoulders. “I’ve had a hunch about you two for a while. The way you look at each other? It’s not hard to figure out. Also, you’re not as sneaky as you think. I knew Regulus was in the dorm the other day, why do you think I droned on about nothing for an hour?” Sirius grins. “Honestly, I’m ecstatic. My best friend and my brother? How could it get better? Just don’t hurt each other, and I’m all for it.”

Shocked, James looks back at Regulus before his head turns towards Sirius, a wide smile on his face. 

“You’re really fine with this?” Regulus asks.

“I’m fine with it. I’d just prefer not to see it. And don’t ever lie to me again, James.”

James smiles. “Wouldn’t think of it.How did you even end up over here, anyway? This isn’t on the way back to the dorm.”

Sirius pulls the map from his pocket, waving it in the air. “Next time you try to hide something from me, maybe don’t forget we have a map that shows us where everyone in the castle is.” His lips curl into a mischievous smirk and James laughs.

“You have a map that shows you where everyone is in the castle?” Regulus blurts out in disbelief.

Whipping their heads toward him, Sirius and James share a sidelong glance.

“Shit,” they say in unison.