#i like the story of Still Wakes the Deep and i love the authenticity of the accents and way of speaking

[nexus-nebulae]

Ok so. I appreciate the idea of semi-translating slang that not many people outside that particular region of the world might be aware of. But when I'm trying to listen to characters speaking and need subtitles, it just kinda fucking sucks to hear the word "aye" and read "yeah". If i need to know what certain slang means I'll look it up- but these accents, which I am personally not super familiar with, mean certain phrases I cannot guess the spelling for whatsoever, so I genuinely don't know what fucking word he just said. I mean seriously- having the guy say "gobshite" and have the subtitles say "bastard" is just fucking not how you do subtitles.

[awhhayden]

CONTAINS : age gap 20+, dilf!hayden, fluff, anxiety/panic attack, short story

SUMMARY : Hayden wakes up from a nightmare, his anxieties weighing down on your relationship.

Hayden stirs beside you, the peaceful rhythm of sleep abruptly shattered as he shoots upright, fear flickering across his features. A cold sweat glistens on his chest and neck, his breath coming in frantic gasps as another nightmare haunts his consciousness.

For the past week, the same chilling dream has plagued him, each one a manifestation of the simmering anxieties about your relationship. With you just stepping into your 23rd year and him carrying the weight of 43, the whispers of the world loom large, as if the media’s scrutiny could unravel the delicate threads of what you both share.

Each day, he finds himself on high alert, bracing for the latest wave of cruel commentary about your love—the love that defies conventional norms but thrives in its authenticity. Hayden positions himself as a shield between you and the relentless barrage of judgment, yet deep down, he knows the sting of those words reaches you, drawing a painful line back to him.

Guilt tugs at his heart, knowing that these dark reflections are a consequence of his existence in your life, and he longs for a way to silence the storm that rages endlessly in his mind.

He turns and gazes at you, a soft contrast to the panic in his chest. Your hair spills like silk across the pillow, catching the soft glow of the moonlight that dances through the window. Each rise and fall of your chest is a tender symphony, a rhythm that lulls him into a deeper calm.

With a gentle smile, he lays back on his side and wraps his strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer into his warmth. The sweet scent of your strawberry shampoo envelops him, a fragrant reminder that you are all he needs.

You stir slightly, your voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. "Mmm, you okay?" Your eyes flutter open just enough to glimpse the worry etched on his face, and he smiles, leaning into the fragrant softness of your hair. "Now I am," he whispers, his words a soft caress that fills the space between you with a warm intimacy, as if the world outside has faded away, leaving only the two of you as his anxieties melt away into oblivion.

He feels the heat radiating from your body and leans in closer, letting the moment deepen. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft sound of your breathing. With each breath, he finds himself more anchored in the present, savoring this shared moment of peace that feels both timeless and sacred.

"Do you remember the first time we slept like this?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He recalls that night, when the stars overhead seemed to twinkle just for you two, a new chapter just unfolding.

You chuckle softly, eyes still heavy with sleep. "I think you were the one who ended up stealing all the blankets," you tease, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

He smirks, nudging you playfully. "Guilty as charged." A moment of laughter passes between you, a thread of shared memories that wraps around you in warmth. Beneath that playful exchange, a deeper truth lingers in the air—an unspoken understanding of each other, grounded in genuine affection.

You shift slightly, nestling into his embrace, and he tightens his hold instinctively, as if afraid to let go. The soft rhythm of your breaths intertwining sets a peaceful cadence. “What are you thinking about?” you ask, curiosity sparking your gaze as you finally meet his eyes.

He hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah, it’s just…” He takes a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “Sometimes I worry about the age gap between us. I mean, I know it’s not the worst difference, but still…” You frown slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow, giving him your full attention. “What do you mean?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, his gaze drifting toward the moonlight spilling through the window. “With me being in the public eye, everyone seems to have an opinion about everything. I can imagine the headlines, the gossip… it worries me. I don’t want to be that guy who’s dating someone significantly younger. I don’t want it to look like I’m… I don’t know, taking advantage of that.”

Your heart sinks a little at his unease, seeing the vulnerability etched in his features. “You’re not taking advantage of anything. We’re not like that. We have something real here.”

“I know that,” he replies, looking back into your eyes with sincerity. “But the media spins things. I've seen it happen to friends, people in the industry facing scrutiny just for their choices in relationships. I don’t want to subject you to that kind of negativity. You don’t deserve it.”

“You can’t control how others see us,” you say gently, brushing your fingers across his cheek. “What matters is how we see each other. You mean the world to me, and I don’t care about the age gap or what people think.”

He listens, but the concern doesn’t entirely vanish from his eyes. “You say that now, but what if it becomes a burden in the future? What if the attention—both good and bad—pulls us apart instead of bringing us closer?”

“If it’s meant to be, we’ll find a way to make it work,” you reply, your voice steady and unwavering. “And if we do hit bumps along the way, we’ll face them together. Love isn’t about age or public perception; it’s about trust, respect, and the connection we’ve built.”

He smiles softly at your words, grateful yet still clouded by his worries. “You make it sound so simple. I just don’t want to risk losing what we have because of outside noise.”

You take a moment, gathering your thoughts, before responding. “I’m not naive. I know the world can be harsh. But I also believe that if we’re strong in our bond, we can withstand anything. Our relationship doesn’t have to be defined by the age gap—or by the spotlight you’re in.”

He studies you intently, his brows slightly relaxed as he absorbs your words. “You really believe that?” He probes, searching your face for reassurance.

“I do,” you affirm, leaning closer, grounding him with your presence. “Each day with you just feels right. It’s not about the years; it’s about how well we fit together and how we support each other”

A soft chuckle escapes him, his tension easing slightly. “In all my life, I’ve never met someone quite like you,” he admits. “You’re a breath of fresh air, you keep me young” he jokes.

You smile at that, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. “I’m glad I can be someone who brings you comfort. Just remember, I want this, I want you” you say softly. He reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers as he gives a light squeeze. “Thank you for being you. For standing by me. I just want to protect what we have.”

“Then let’s protect it together,” you say, resolute. “I love you” you whisper, he smiles

As you settle back into his embrace, the weight of his worries lingers in the air but feels lighter now, softened by the understanding between you. Together, you drift into a shared silence, sleep finally weighing down on Hayden’s eyes, you fall back asleep together, a newfound understanding and the sound of the wind in the air.

a little story while I work on a chapter two of my james kelly fic! also still adding to my taglist so lmk if you want to be added! <3

taglist : @bimbo-baggins17 @malinadbbdh @speaknow-sw @haydensheartt @inlovewithdob @fredswrite

[grudgecollector]

Afterglow | Nam-gyu / American!Reader

You're reading part four

Story Summary: Nam-gyu gets a new job and finds himself falling for the girl behind the deli counter.

Words: 1.9k

Tags/Warnings: Nam-gyu and Thanos have PTSD, canon divergence, Thanos lives, heavy angst, fighting, references to past substance abuse, slight suicidal ideation

A/N: Oh boy oh boy, now this is a chapter I cooked up with the devious side of my brain.

This is a particularly heavy chapter, lots of angst, but in the next one I'll make up for it I promise (maybe ;))

Also I'd like to thank you guys again for the continued love on the Afterglow series. I wasn't expecting to do this many chapters, but I love them.......

MASTERLIST | Mini playlist to fit the chapter

October thirty-first, Halloween, one of the most anticipated holidays for kids and adults alike. You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the idea of being able to celebrate with Nam-gyu. It made you feel like a kid all over again, happily trying to plan out costume ideas, helping decorate his apartment a little bit. You were trying hard not to go overboard with your excitement. 

Since Halloween wasn’t as popular in South Korea as it was in the United States, you wanted to make sure that you could give both him and Su-bong an authentic experience. Candy, costumes, make-up, scary movies. Even parties, which you were never fully privy to in the past, but willed yourself to make an exception this time around. 

You jiggled your spare key a little in the lock of Nam-gyu and Su-bong's apartment, wiping your feet on the welcome mat outside before removing your shoes. Your umbrella was still dripping on the concrete just outside the door, you silently hoped to yourself that nobody would take it while you were inside. 

Su-bong was sitting on the couch twirling a finger through his fresh hot pink hair, fingertips still stained in the dye. He was watching one of his many guilty pleasure shows at a low volume. His brows were knit together in what seemed to be concentration, and something a little more. 

“Hey, Su-bong.” You greeted with a smile, setting down a few of the things you had brought for tonight. 

His head snapped over to look at you, “Oh hey, didn’t hear you come in.” His own smile faltered a little, it was distant, the usual happy spark in his eyes replaced with something a lot more unrecognizable. 

“I think Nam-gyu’s still asleep.” He answered your unspoken question flatly. His usual teasing and friendly demeanor shut away. 

Strange…

All you could do was nod. Your eyes stayed on him for a beat longer than usual before you made your way down the short hallway to your boyfriend’s room.

You carefully grasped the knob to his door and opened it slowly, not wanting to accidentally wake him up. There was a faint smell of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air. His room was almost pitch black if it wasn’t for the little bit of light let in by the open door. 

Right on the bed was the outline of your boyfriend underneath the covers. His weighted blanket was pulled tight around his shoulder as he laid on his side, breaths coming out in slow quiet snores. 

Worry tugged at your heart, it was four in the afternoon, usually he never slept this long. 

You passed the threshold of his doorway, closing the door quietly behind you. A part of you didn’t want to disturb him, deep in your stomach you know you should just leave him be. But you just couldn’t, not with the thorny feeling of curiosity jabbing itself into your side.

“Nam-gyu.” You whispered softly, a gentle hand settling itself on his covered shoulder. “Honey it’s really late, you should probably wake up.” 

He woke up with a startled gasp, his body going completely rigid underneath his sheets. You could hear his quickened breaths against his pillow, a tell-tale sign you recognized all too quickly. You were quick to press the switch to the lamp on his nightstand, his room being cast in a soft yellow light. 

There in the bed lay your boyfriend, a trembling man under a heap of blankets. He glanced over his shoulder with worried eyes, tears already brimming. Almost a year with him and you had never seen him so utterly terrified. 

Your name fell from his wobbly lips, trapped within a choked sob, he looked like a scared child seeking comfort. 

You wasted no time making your way to your usual spot on the bed, sliding underneath the heavy sheets and bringing him into your chest.

The sobs he released into your shirt were raw with emotion, as if they were being torn from his body unwillingly. You didn’t care that his tears and snot were seeping through the fabric and onto your chest. 

He was shaking like a leaf in your arms, hiccuping sobs forcing his fingers to grip tighter around the back of your shirt. 

~~~

Su-bong clenched his jaw at the sound of Nam-gyu’s sobs. A part of him wanted to storm into his friends room and tell you to leave, that he would handle things himself. But he couldn’t… He wouldn’t do that to either of you. 

You were the closest thing to normalcy Nam-gyu has had in his life since the games. Su-bong knew that more than anyone ever would. 

He watched for two years as his friend dragged his body through life pathetically. Picking at his arms every now and then as the itch, the urge, that unmatchable craving started to eat at him as he was consumed by his ever present thoughts. 

And once you came along, the dust finally seemed to settle. It was like watching his friend be built back into the man he met, while he wasn’t as selfish or as snide as he used to be, he finally found his smile again. His laugh no longer sounded forced.

He was finally happy. 

Su-bong would be lying to himself if he said that you being around was a comfort for him too. After the things both Nam-gyu and him did back in South Korea, they both needed that reminder that innocent minds such as yours were to be cherished. Those genuine smiles and laughs, clueless to the true horrors in the world. 

Nam-gyu was always so distant around the anniversary of the games. Shut off from the world, sleeping away the day just so he didn’t slip back into old habits. He always looked so hollow when he would finally show his face, dark bags under his puffy eyes, hair a mess, wearing the same exact clothes that he had been wearing four days before. 

A sigh fell from Su-bong’s lips as he noticed the cries of his friend finally started to quiet down, occasional choked sobs drifting through the thin walls. 

Su-bong knew that if you were going to continue being in a relationship with Nam-gyu, you had to at least be given a half truth eventually. 

Given a glimpse of the extent of Nam-gyu’s gruesome, tormenting, past. 

~~~

Nam-gyu felt so pathetic. His eyelids clenched so tight he was almost scared his eyes would pop in their sockets. He tried his best to will his tears away, the sobs subsiding into pitiful whimpers and sniffles. 

“I’m sorry… Fuck… I-” He was quick to push himself away from you, albeit a little harsher than he intended. Sitting up quickly and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I…” 

He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, his mind twisting and spinning so rapidly. Nam-gyu brought his hands up to his face, dragging his blunt nails along the skin of his raw cheeks.  He hoped that the brief bite of pain would bring him some sort of relief. 

God his fucking hands… If only they could stop shaking for just a second. 

Nam-gyu could feel your eyes boring into his back. He couldn’t bring himself to look over his shoulder at you. Your sweet, caring, beautiful face. It made his gut twist in a sickening way when a sudden gory image flashed in his head, an image of you in the games, dying in front of him. 

“I need to go.” He suddenly breathed out, rushing towards the door before you could even think to reach out for him. 

The world felt like it was spinning around him as he rushed to grab his jacket, slipping on one shoe at a time.

His mind was on one thing and one thing only. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going Nam-gyu?” Su-bong hissed, cutting through his friend’s tunnel vision.

It wasn’t an actual question, Su-bong knew exactly what Nam-gyu was planning to do. To search for that glorious hit that could make him forget everything that tormented his fragile mind.

“Dude… You can’t do this shit. Not today.” 

He snatched the keys from his trembling friend’s other hand, throwing them all the way into the kitchen, completely out of reach. 

“Su-bong…” Nam-gyu whispered his friend's name in warning, eyes glued to the wooden floor of their living room. 

“Your fucking girl is here bro… Do not do this shit.” An accusatory finger was jabbed lightly into Nam-gyu’s chest, “You can shut me out all you fucking want, but not her.” 

A tornado of emotions swirled recklessly inside of Nam-gyu. Right now all he wanted to do was forget, to wash all of his guilt away with one simple hit. That’s all he wanted. His heart was racing so fast in his chest, and his ears were ringing so loud he could barely concentrate anymore. 

“Sit down and smoke some weed or some shit, but we both swore that other shit off years ago, together. You can’t go sliding back on me now.” 

Nam-gyu’s hands tightened at his sides, body flushed.

Their eyes, their faces, everything was burned so brightly behind his eyelids. 

“I can’t do this anymore!” He finally shouted, making Su-bong flinch a little, “I’m so fucking tired! I just- I can’t… FUCK!” 

~~~

There was the sound of shattering glass in the hallway, so sharp and loud as you stared at Nam-gyu’s door. Still in shock from his sudden departure, seemingly running away from his deep seated emotions.

You threw back the covers hastily, ripping open his door and finding both boys fighting, yelling at each other in a way you had never seen them before. 

A picture frame was lying broken on the floor next to the front door, glass spread throughout the living room floor. Su-bong’s foot came dangerously close to one of the shards as Nam-gyu continued to jab his finger into his friend’s chest. 

“It has been so fucking easy for you! You don’t even act like it fucks with your head like it does mine!” Nam-gyu screamed at him, angry tears running down his cheeks. 

Su-bong couldn’t help but scoff, pushing against your boyfriend’s shoulder to force him to back up, “You don’t think it’s been hard on me?! Why do you think I go out so often?!” He pushed again, “I can’t stand being here by myself! I can’t get that shit out of my head! So I drown it out by going to clubs and bars!” Another push, “Don’t you think I wanna go out and get so fucked up out of my mind, do something I’ll really fucking regret?!” 

This time it was Nam-gyu who pushed him back, much harder than Su-bong had done to him, “Don’t fucking touch me again.” His voice was cold, bordering emotionless if it wasn’t for the slight tremble in his words. 

It broke your heart to see him like this. There was so much pain built up inside of him, all you wanted to do was grab his hand and usher him back into his bedroom. Hold him until he calmed down again.

But you knew that wouldn't be possible, not with how fired up he was now. You felt hopeless, unsure how you should act under situations like this.

You had been shaken out of your thoughts finally when Nam-gyu's hand grasped the doorknob firmly, "I'm going outside for a smoke. I gotta cool off." His gaze barely flickered past your shoes when he glanced towards the hallway. "I'll be back in a bit."

[taesanluv3r]

lost in love songs.

han taesan x reader

a short, three part, friends to lovers story.

ੈ✩‧₊ hidden love unfolds when taesan's ipod nano accidentally ends up in the hands of his best-friend, yn. a certain playlist catches her eyes, revealing the true feelings kept within the depths of the boy's heart.

part three: can't help falling in love.

confessions, first kisses, so much cuteness my heart swells. lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors! enjoy <3

wc: 4,019

masterlist 𖦹 part one 𖦹 part two

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"i need to talk to you"

taesan couldn't sleep at all, her words just circling around and around in his head all night long. the five letter text message written in big bold letters playing in his mind every single time he so much as even tried to shut his eyes. he lies awake, sighing when his eight o' clock alarm rings through his ears. he was going to confess to her today. he had to. it was the only way he or his friend could get any sort of closure, whether he liked it or not. their meeting time was still in another two hours. the boy grabs his phone, instinctively going to check the messages, her messages.

last active 6.45am

seems she couldn't sleep either, though neither of the friends contacted each other while they were awake. no exchange of words, unlike the way they usually did. taesan's stomach hurts, he's restless and he just can't seem to lie still. he gets off of his bed, walking around his room once, then twice, and then a third time before resorting to sitting on the chair near his desk. with a light tap of his finger, the laptop in front of him turns on, a slight buzzing sound from the gears within the device that began to work. his reflection on the screen disappears when the tabs he had opened the night prior appeared before him. the boy's eyes glimmer slightly at the sight of his music folder, countless of demos and drafts scattered in a somewhat organized manner in the little blue folder. his finger slides against the silver track-pad, the air conditioning right by his desk making the surface cool to touch. taesan bites his lips as he clicks, a collection of his unfinished originals popping up above all the other opened tabs.

the boy sighs again, a hand roughly stroking through his bed-ridden hair as his eyes make contact with two songs in particular. those were the same songs he had downloaded onto his ipod the other day, the one that was now in the hands of his best-friend who he had in his mind throughout the whole writing process. taesan curses at himself, regretting ever even making such stupid songs. but it's all her fault, he thought, if she weren't so...her, maybe he wouldn't keep writing these love songs. he scrolls down in frustration, eyes following his cursor as they go through about a dozen more songs about her. a dozen more songs she didn't need to know about, the songs he once swore she'd never see.

the boy's finger moves up again, back to the very top two tracks in the folder. he let's out a deep breath before pressing down, allowing his own music to flow through the air. an unfinished song,

can't help falling in love.

taesan's eyes shut closed, his back leaning softly against his chair and he immerses himself in the tune. soft piano fills his ears, his eyebrows knitting together when he hears his own voice. just like the other song, this one shared that same honey-like feeling. it was very unlike the usually upbeat and, as his friend would call it, emo sound that he typically produced. for some reason though, it was somewhat more...authentic. like despite his edgy exterior the boy was just born to write these cheesy songs that he swore weren't 'his vibe'. he hums along quietly to the lyrics, not wanting to wake the rest of his family that were very much still asleep at such an hour like this on a saturday morning.

her eyes shine like diamonds, her lips stained pink like rose quartz. she speaks so loud with confidence, yeah i envy her voice like sweets of sorts. and i just can't shake this feeling, and i just don't know what's wrong. when she looks at me i'm melting, elvis was right cause i can't help falling in love.

the sound of the lyrics he wrote himself makes him sick for a second, his eyes opening and his body darting forward to hit pause. the tune abruptly stops, his heavy breathing all too loud when silence engulfs the atmosphere. taesan is tense, the sudden reality of the situation he was in had become too real, too much for his liking. the boy blinks in long intervals, his teeth clawing at his bottom lip and his hands that were pressed atop the table forming fists. the boy loses himself for a moment, his mind overflowing with every possible scenario, every kind of reaction this girl he had been so hung up on could've had to the feelings he poured out into his songs, this girl who was his only friend, this girl he might've of lost forever.

he stops himself from screaming at the top of his lungs, eyes glancing at the number on the top right corner of the screen. only one more hour to go. he decides its finally time to get ready. taesan takes a shower, washing his hair with the olive scented shampoo that his mom had bought for him on a sale the other day. he brushed his teeth, making eye contact with the mirror as he dried his hair. the boy spends the next thirty minutes trying on all of his clothes, almost throwing a tantrum and leaving the room in a mess when nothing seemed to feel right. by 9.35 he had decided on a black band tee, the faded smiley face logo of his favourite band contrasting perfectly with the dark wash of his denim jeans. he stares at himself in his floor-length mirror, his hands fidgeting in the air as he begins to rehearse every way the confession that awaits him with his best-friend could possibly go. the shy boy does this often, he finds it hard to speak with people and it makes him feel better to practice beforehand. however, he's never had to do this with her, she always made it easy for him to talk. so why now? why does he feel so nervous and...scared?

"and i just...i think you're cool and- no, i think you're pretty chill and- pretty chill? ugh! this is so stupid!" he groans, launching himself onto his bed and staring angrily at his ceiling. just then, the familiar notification sound of his phone grabs the boy's attention. taesan stretches an arm out towards it, his eyes lighting up and his body going back into sitting position as he reads the text from the girl who'd been running laps around his mind since last night.

yn meet you at the playground

the boy feels a cluster of butterflies in his lower abdomen, a small smile unconsciously making its way onto his lips at the mere thought of the pretty girl conversing with him.

i'll see you there

he shuts his phone off before she could respond, jumping off of the mattress and stumbling into his black leather shoes, all while simultaneously throwing on his coat and spritzing just enough of his signature perfume. he greets himself one last time in the mirror before he leaves, letting out a breath as he nodded to his reflection, so as to tell himself 'good luck'.

the boy was out the door now, not forgetting to bid his family goodbye leaving them to wonder what he was so jittery about. his feet trots over to the bus stop. the playground was closer to her place, almost an hour away from the boy if he were to get there on foot. his fingers tapped impatiently against the silver railing of the bench, no one else was there because no one else had plans so early on a weekend. five minutes go by and the blue vehicle finally comes to a stop in front of him, the automatic door sliding opened as he stepped into the bus. "where you off to this early on a saturday, kid?" asked the old man who had both hands on the steering wheel. "going to tell her the truth" the man chuckles at the boy's mysterious response, watching from the rear-view mirror as he slumped himself onto one of the seats. taesan watches as the trees go by, his eyes wandering over to the people on walks, the children on their tiny bikes, and the couples sharing a morning cup of coffee. the boy reaches into his pocket in search of his music player, lips pursing into a straight line when he remembers its whereabouts. he didn't even have his earphones with him, he couldn't listen to music on his phone even he wanted to! and no music meant no distractions, nothing to focus on apart from his own thoughts he began to get lost in once again.

at last, the bus arrives at his stop. taesan gets up from his seat, a hand gripping onto the yellow handle near the door as he begins to get off. "hey kid" the old man's voice stops him. "huh?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked up in curiosity. "good luck with that girl, rooting for you" the driver's encouraging words paired with a warm smile gave the otherwise nervous wreck of a boy somewhat of a confidence boost. he shoots the man a smile in return, thanking him before hopping out the door. a new sense of security as he strides towards the gated entrance of the park. he walks with his head down, eyes focusing on the way his thick shoes created indents against the grass. he only looks up when his feet reaches the familiar cobblestone that surrounded the playground.

he holds his breath for a moment and his heart rate went up by tenfold. there she was. in the rather empty area, the only other sound apart from the pumping in his chest was the breeze. a smooth blow of wind that cascaded through her hair, causing the swing in which she sat to sway slowly. his gaze lingered for a moment, staring longingly at his best-friend, myung yn. a harsh gush of wind swept the boy off of his feet, sending his body to move forward all of a sudden. the noise that escaped his mouth causing the girl on the swing to turn around and face him. the two stood like that for a while, not uttering a word and just staring at each other from a distance. yn was the first to look away, her head tilting towards the direction of the other swing beside hers, inviting the boy to come and take a seat. taesan takes painfully slow steps before finally making it to the empty swing, the old steel bar from which it hung on creaking a little at the pressure of his weight. still, neither of them spoke a word. her eyes fixed onto the two little birds a couple feet away from them, and his own ones focused right onto her.

"yn..." he begins, though his voice is a lot deeper than usual. taesan wants to tell her everything, just the way he had planned, he had so much to say and yet for some reason all of those things just wouldn't- no, they just couldn't come out. "here" his eyes widen when she speaks, the boy's gaze falling onto her hand that appeared in front of him. his ipod nano in it, and his worn-out earphones de-tangled and wrapped neatly around the device. "oh" is all he managed to muster out, his own hand reaching over to retrieve it. taesan's touch lingers against her skin, sending a wave of goosebumps to decorate her body. it's silent all over again. minus the chirping of song birds and the rustling of dying leaves as they shed onto the green grass. the boy zones out, trying to find the right sentences to say. he's distracted by the thoughts running through his brain, perplexed when they all began to fade away at the sound of soft humming coming from the girl to his left.

the tune is familiar, though he can't seem to pinpoint where he's heard it before. "that song has been stuck in my head all night, i couldn't sleep" yn began, her voice still raspy from the lack of rest. she still doesn't make eye contact though, continuing to hum as she rocked slightly on the swing. "you write so well"

that's when it all clicked in his head. the song she had been humming, the same song he had made himself. the one about a girl, the one about her. yn's compliment registers in his brain, his head falling down to hide the way a pink shade appeared onto his pale cheeks, silently praying she couldn't hear the way his heart thumped beneath his shirt. "if only i could speak as well as i write" taesan finally talks, his voice making her turn to fully face him now. her eyes are big and a small smile pulled against the corners of her lips. "well, why don't you try? try to tell me about this girl" the way she asked him, like she hadn't a clue about the meaning of his songs, it comforted him a little. how could she be so...normal at a time like this?

he stutters, looking away from her as he opens his mouth to speak again. "well...she's the complete opposite of me and she makes me feel all weird and fuzzy inside and" - "you're always weird, but go on" yn chuckles, interrupting him jokingly. the sound of her laugh making him smile too. "and well, she's my best-friend- my only friend, but sometimes...i guess i just kind of wish we were more than that...i just don't want to ruin our friendship..." he trails off, his eyes getting watery all of a sudden; if you asked him why, he'd blame it on the breeze, but he knows that the real reason was the same one for his smile, the same on for his laugh, and the very same reason for his stupid little love songs.

taesan's body tenses up when he feels a cool touch of a hand tapped against his chin, his head being forced to lift up and to face her. to face yn who seemed to have also begun tearing up. "taesan..." she says, but her voice comes out hushed. her vision begins to blur and the boy panics, unsure of what to do. "yn..." now it was his turn to press his fingers against her jaw, bringing her glossy eyes up to look into his.

"i think i might like you more than a friend"

a gasp escapes her lips. she recognizes the line from his song, she knew since last night how he felt, but for some reason she's still in shock. it was as though the night before had just been some sort of wild dream and it was now coming to life. taesan stares deeply into her eyes, analyzing the way her breathing slowed down and her eyebrows relaxed. "i..." she begins, her warm breath that smelled of coffee blowing against his nose. the boy waits patiently in anticipation, a look of hope and worry washing over his complexion.

"i think i like you too"

a single tear falls out of his eye, a sight she had never seen before. for the boy she had known all of these years never cried. yn blinks, tears of her own threatening to follow suit. his hand moves to caress her cheek, wiping away the wetness that stained it. she giggles softly, finding his touch ticklish. he copies her, breaking into a smile as he sniffles lightly, wiping away his own tear-stained face.

the confession was a lot quicker and a lot more anticlimactic than they had thought or anticipated. the pair simmering down into another moment of silence as they swung softly with the air, the cool breeze blowing against the tiny hairs on their bodies. "so...you listened to the songs, then? i mean...obviously you did" the boy breaks away from the peace, his gaze moving towards the ipod on his lap. she nods, blushing at the memory of his love song. "only the first one" yn says, her voice fading out softly. "good" now she turned to face him, head tilted to the side as she did so. "the other one isn't done yet...and it's way more embarrassing than the first one" his voice is back to normal now, the jittery-ness in his previous tone long gone. "will you show me when it's done then?" she asked, watching as he raided his brain in search for an answer. "or maybe..."

yn gets off of her swing, turning around on her heels to stand right across the boy who remained seated. taesan looks up at her confused, not a clue as to what she was going to tell him next. "maybe you could write me a new one!" she speaks brightly, "one about how the girl of your dreams, me, became the girl of your reality" she's prideful, her head facing the blue sky as she spoke. "how 'bout that?" now she looked right at him, a hopeful look in her eyes contradicting the playful smirk on her lips. the boy can only stare blankly at her, eyebrows furrowing like she was speaking a language he didn't understand. yn rolls her eyes, waving a hand in circles over his face. "hello? earth to taesan?" he shakes out of his short trance, "huh?" the exchange of words gives the pair a feeling of deja vu. she smiles softly, "i just asked you to be my boyfriend and you totally zoned out...loser" taesan tilts his head to the side.

"you...me...boyfriend..huh?!"

she laughs out loud, grabbing onto his hands and lifting him off of the creaky swing. "you, han taesan. me, myung yn. boyfriend and girlfriend" she repeats for the third time, in simpler words for his brain to digest. this time, instead of just staring at her like a confused cat, the boy grins. "wait, wait so we can be like...together now?" she groans at his question, "taesan, if you make me repeat myself again i'll toss that stupid ipod into the fish pond!" he laughs when she compains, his eyes scanning every inch of her features. the way her eyebrows twitched when she spoke, the way her eyelashes fluttered with the wind, the way her nose scrunched up and the way her pretty pink lips sat in a pout towards the bottom of her face. he must've been staring at them for a while, the girl's pout flipping into a little smirk. "what's up?" she asks, his attention returning to her eyes. "nothing...can...can i..." he never finishes the sentence, but the way his lips were parted and the way his breathing got heavier, she knew exactly what was going through his mind.

yn takes a step forward, diminishing any amount of space they had between them before. the familiar feeling of her cold fingers sent a shiver down his spine as both her hands moved up to cup his face. taesan is frozen still, letting the girl make all of the moves for him. she inhales softly before pulling him down towards her, finally coming in contact with one another. the atmosphere is stiff, the strawberry scent of her chapstick melting into his rather dry lips. the kiss lasts no longer than a second, the girl pulling away to stare in his loving eyes. regaining the consciousness that seemed to have left his body a minute ago, the boy's arms moved to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his grasp and their lips caught against each other's once more. this time, the kiss was natural and passionate. yn's arms sat around his neck, her fingers twirling against the ends of his freshly washed hair. their heads tilted in opposite directions, noses bumping as they got lost in each other's faces. slowly becoming messier and desperate as time went by. feeling a little lightheaded, the pair separate, gasping for air. his hands still placed on her hips, hers are now on his shoulders and they stopped to sink into the moment.

the air around them was warm, differing from the cool breeze that had surrounded them earlier. before long, yn's cheeks began to redden, the same shade becoming apparent on the tips of the boy's ears. avoiding eye contact, they looked away in unison, flustered giggles escaping their mouths the same way little children did when they were happy. taesan smiles brightly at her, and the girl reciprocates, the corners of her mouth dipping into little dimples against her skin.

"walk me home?" she asks suddenly, starting up conversation again. he nods, extending a hand out for her to grab before they began walking through the grass and out of the gated park. their walk was unusually quiet, but there was some sort of a comforting feeling that floated over them, hands remained intertwined the whole time, constantly stealing glances and blushing away awkwardly whenever their eyes met.

soon, they arrived at the entrance of her complex. taesan looks down at her for a moment, a hand scratching against the back of his neck that began to feel itchy. yn lets out a sigh, a frown appearing against her face. he looks at her with worried eyes, "what...what's wrong?" he stutters, though she only lets out another breath. "nothing. it's just that if i go home now, jaehyun is gonna bully me relentless about this whole thing!" the boy closes his eyes in relief, "oh, i thought something was seriously wrong-ow!" he exclaims, rubbing his forearm she just hit. "it is something seriously wrong! as my boyfriend you should be just as upset as me!!" taesan freezes at the term, a sense of shyness wrapping around his body the same way his weighted blanket did at night. yn is just as flustered, not expecting herself to say that, her attention moving to stare intently at the asphalt on the ground.

"well, as your boyfriend, what should i do then?"

his hands find home beneath her chin, lifting her pretty face up to look at him again. he looked handsome. i mean, she knew he was good looking this whole time but she swears he had never looked this...lovely before. his soft hair lazily falling against his shining eyes, his tall nose harmoniously balanced with his lips that wore a pretty smirk. "you know if you just keep staring and not giving me an answer i won't know what to do, yn" he rolls his eyes playfully, failing to hold back his laugh as he watched the ever so confident myung yn struggle with her words for what feels like the very first time ever. "i...i mean you...you should- um..." han taesan bends down slightly, pressing a spontaneous kiss against her cheek, their faces far too close and their noses almost touching.

"why don't you come over to mine? i'll show you all the other songs i wrote for you" her eyes widen at his words, "other songs? you mean you wrote MORE songs about me?!" taesan nods, his teeth showing when he smiles this time and the dimples below his eyes forming whisker-like shapes against his cheeks. "who knew emo loser taesan was such a love-sick derp" her sudden insult catches him off guard, a scoff escaping his mouth as he wraps an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her close as they cross the street.

"and who's fault is that?" he asks, the right side of his face pressed against her hair. "whats that supposed to mean? it's not my fault you fell in love with someone as great and amazing as me!" she rolls her eyes, leaning onto the side of his chest as they walked in the opposite direction of her neighbourhood and towards the bus stop. taesan laughs, "well that's just it! when you're so great and amazing like that, i guess i just..." yn looks up at him, interested in what her boyfriend was going to say next.

"i just...can't help falling in love"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

i want an emo love-sick derpy taesan ☹️ this is the end of my short series <3 i hope u guys liked it!!! and liked the lyrics i wrote for this and the last part too hehehehe 🙂‍↕️ reblogs n feedbacks are always appreciated!!!! tysm for reading, lmk what u thought 🧸 love, kona :3

[alexsoenomel]

Feelin’ Baby Blue (Dean Winchester x Reader smut/fluff)

Requests: can you write a story where dean is just like touch starved and wants to cuddle so he doesn’t have nightmares while he sleeps.

Could you write a story where dean just needs a little comfort? like he’s had a rough day or is just feeling off and wants to be held and feel safe in the readers arms

Summary: Dean set you free by accident, not knowing you can feel the pain he was in and not knowing you’re able to give him what he secretly craved.

Pairing: Dean x Genie!Reader 

Warnings:  18+ MINORS DNI, Reader is a virgin, Dean is broken and pathetic, sweet love making, and Big O’s

Word count: 3.8k

Note: I added a little bit of fluffy smut because I’m a pathetic horny bitch and Dean deserves to get laid.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)  

Wake up. Go to work. Collapse on the coach. Wake up. Make lunch for tomorrow. Shower. Sleep.

Over and over again.

Every day. The concept of time didn't exist, only work and work alone. You didn't know who you were, your true authentic self was buried deep in you, along with your dreams and goals. In this world dreams and goals were considered unnecessary, plus you didn't even know what your dreams and goals were. You were only aware of one thing and one thing only – you had to work in order to survive. This job was your bread and butter, financial issues disappeared but you could still feel the world crashing around you. Your life became only your 9 till 5. You had no one, with family scattered around the country, and friends being in different stages of life, you were left to only interact with people in your dull office job which made you hate this life even more. Empty conversations, small talk, gossip…

You didn't even remember the last time you genuinely laughed while talking to someone. Once you entered this machine, this cursed cycle called the capitalistic society, your life lost all meaning.

It was the same day over and over again.

****

North Platte, Nebraska

Sam and Dean just killed a nasty witch. She had been cursing family homes all over Nebraska, making family members eventually kill each other in fits of rage and insanity – reasons unknown. She was an old one – old as time. Her house was filled with endless shelves of books of ancient dark magic, ancient artifacts chattered all over, herbs, talismans – whatever a witch’s heart desired, she had it.

"Poor guy!" Dean said, looking at the white rabbit lying on the coffee table. His eyes were closed, his little body completely relaxed and spread out – it looked dead. "That bitch was creepy as hell!" He added. Dean was never fond of witches.

"I still don't understand why she was killing all those families!" Sam wondered, looking around her messy living room.

"Beats me!" The older Winchester shrugged his shoulders and put the gun with witch-killing bullets back in his jeans.

He was just about to tell Sam that it was time to go since the place was giving him the heebie-jeebies when he saw something that piqued his interest on one of the bookshelves.

"Sam, look!" His fingers were gently holding a medium-sized bottle filled with floating whiteish, blueish puffs. He was smiling like he just found his favorite childhood toy.

"Are those clouds?" Sam asked, trying to see what was inside the bottles. Nothing apart from "clouds" his eyes registered.

Dean, being Dean (childish and chaotic at times), started shaking the bottle, hoping something would happen. It didn't. The "clouds" were just floating in the bottle as he was shaking it.

"Dean, put it back where you found it, and let's get the hell out of here!" Sam told him.

"Fine."

As he was about to put it back on the shelf, a light bang echoed through the living room causing both Winchesters to turn around with their guns ready to kill whatever made the sound. Dean didn't even notice that he dropped the bottle, shattering it completely. The clouds were floating right behind them as they put their guns away realizing it was just the rabbit that Dean thought was dead on the coffee table. It jumped on the wooden floor knocking a little stone in the process. It just stood there looking at them.

"He ain't dead!" Dean's eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't help but smile – he'd always feel sad for the poor animals that were used for witchcraft.

Instinctively, both brothers then glanced at the dead witch lying a few inches away from them. She was still dead as a doornail. Good.

The rabbit sniffed the witch's face before urinating all over it. Both brothers chuckled. Even better.

In the meantime, the cloud behind them started growing bigger and bigger. It reached Sam's height and exploded as both brothers were hit with a force so strong it knocked them to the floor. Dean hit his cheek, and Sam his nose, causing a few drops of blood to appear seconds later.

"What the –" Dean said and looked behind him.

Sam did the same as he whipped the blood coming from his nose. "Holy crap!"

****

Five minutes before.

As you were about to answer your next call, bored out of your mind, staring at your computer screen and seeing the calls pile up, you noticed something unusual. Your colleague Dave was in the middle of a conversation and yet you couldn’t hear him behind his computer anymore – which was unusual considering he was the loudest one in the office. The telephones around you stopped ringing– all of them. You looked through the window and saw the rain that was pouring outside just seconds ago, frozen in the air. You turned around and there she was; Karen stiff as a statue, mouth open, holding a chocolate bar inches away from her face.

"What the–"

***

You woke up. Finally, you woke up. The hell was finally over. You were finally free.

Right in front of you was a sight to see– two gorgeous-looking men staring back at you. One of them seemed more broken than the other. They seemed puzzled.

“How did you free me?” You asked, looking down at your body, seeing you weren’t in your business attire anymore. Instead, you were wearing your baby blue summer dress again. You missed that dress – haven’t worn it in 5 years.

“Free you? Who are you?” The shorter one asked. His hand then went behind his back…he had a gun.

“That gun is useless on me.” You said and glanced at the taller one who also tried the same. You tilted your head to the right, squinting your eyes, looking at the taller one…the name immediately pooped in your head. “You’re Sam.” And a few seconds later the shorter one had a name too. “Dean.” You said looking at him. “Sam and Dean Winchester.”

Both brothers stared at you before Dean finally asked: “Who are you?” His voice was deep, sharp, and kind of intimidating.

“Call me G,” you said.

“How do you know who we are?” Sam asked. “Are you even human?”

“I know the people who summon me. In this case, you didn’t exactly summon me, you freed me.” You explained, “I’m a Genie.”

“A Djinn?” Dean asked in confusion and partial disgust. By the sound of his voice you could tell he wasn’t a fan of actual Djinns. You weren’t either. They were far more chaotic and evil and somehow humans would always mix you with them.

This man is wearing a mask, even his younger brother cannot see. His soul is aching.

“You humans always put me in the same basket as them. No, I’m not a Djinn.”

“Explain!” Dean demanded.

“Who else is a genie and wears blue…or rather is blue?”

Sam's eyes immediately widened as he connected the dots. “The Genie?”

“Bingo!”

Dean then connected the rest. “Like The Genie from Aladdin?”

“Something like that.” Your mouth smiled for the first time in so long it almost felt unnatural.

“I need a drink!” Dean said looking at his younger brother who just stared back at him, not knowing what to say.

“Oh, the bitch has a fine whiskey collection in the cabinet behind you, take your pick and I can explain everything.”  

“Don’t mind if I do!”

“Pour me a double Dean!”

“Roger that!”

After both brothers were intoxicated enough you started talking. You were born in 1992 when the original Aladdin came out. It was an absolute hit all over the world, children loved it, young adults and parents loved it. Genie became a star and that was how you were born. Children especially, desperately wanted their favorite character to be real and to grant them those three wishes and voila…

You didn’t remember much from your birth. You just knew one day you became sentient, real and aware of your purpose – making humans smile. From that day forward you were traveling all over the world and granting wishes – healing the inner child of each broken adult who would summon you and making the world a better place. It wasn’t until the witch found you and bound you to be her slave and used your magic whenever she pleased. The thing that separated you from the real cartoon Genie was – you could grant as many wishes as once heart desired. She used you for revenge, hatred and to satisfy her undying greed for riches – everything you didn't stand for. You were more than glad that she was dead.

“So wait, you’re actually a tulpa?” Sam asked. You were surprised by his logical thinking.

“You can say that.” You confirmed.

Dean took the last sip of whiskey not really knowing how to feel about all of this. Tulpas were a familiar concept for him for sure, but a tulpa of a fuckin’ cartoon character not so much. One thing puzzled him though…

“Isn’t Genie supposed to be a blue man with a ponytail?” He finally spoke.

“Kids didn’t imagine me to be a blue man with a ponytail.” You said, feeling how tired he was. No sleep could subside that.

Sam was hanging by the thread of sanity and good mental health, while his older brother had waves of sorrow and pain crashing into him every second of the day. He was craving something so desperately he was embarrassed of it.

Dean’s lips formed a small O. “Oh, okay.”

“How do people, or kids, summon you?” Sam asked. Real world was a bit different than the cartoon. The part where you live in a lamp at least.

"You just have to rub the lamp the right way" Dean was just waiting for the moment to make this reference since he was secretly a big Christina Aguilera fan. You chuckled, remembering the first time you heard that song in a bar of all places. Sam just looked at Dean like he was about to punch him. Dean grinned.

“That’s gross, Dean.”

“You just have to think of me long and hard before you go to sleep and I’ll pay you a visit.” You finally explained, eyes fixed on Dean. You knew what he craved, you could see right through him, even though he tried to hide it by avoiding your gaze.

“What are you going to do now?” Dean asked you, still avoiding meeting your eyes. He was looking at the book shelf right behind you.

You smirked and stood up. “Might pay you a visit.” Was all you said before you disappeared, leaving both brothers perplexed and a little tipsy.

***

When Sam and Dean came back to the bunker, the younger brother decided it was time to rest while the older one was pondering over your last words.

“Might pay you a visit.”

He couldn’t help but remember your sharp and rather strange gaze. Something about it intimidated him – he felt naked whenever you would look at him. He was a closed forbidden book, only Sam could open it and yet in your presence he was completely exposed – or at least that was how he felt. The thought of you was consuming him slowly, in the shower, in the kitchen, before dinner, after dinner… When he finally went to bed he caved in, remembering your words.

“You just have to think of me long and hard before you go to sleep and I’ll pay you a visit.”

He was slowly drifting, his mind scattered and consumed with only your picture. As his eyes became heavy he heard a whisper – he knew he wasn’t dreaming yet.

“Dean!”

His head left the soft surface of his pillow as he opened his eyes only to see you standing next to his bed.

“G?” He whispered as his hand reached over and turned on the lamp on his night stand.

“I can feel it, y’ know” You said and sat on the edge of his bed. He sat up, back against the headboard.

“Feel what?” He asked even though something was already telling him the answer he thought he didn’t know.

“Your soul is aching, Dean. There’s not enough alcohol and meaningless night stands in this world to ease your pain. It’s too sharp, too deep. You broke my heart as soon as you set me free.”

You knew pain. You felt it all. In sick children, in traumatized adults – you knew every shape it would take, but Dean’s pain was impossible to feel. It was too much even for you.

“I didn’t realize you’re a shrink too.” The sass was evidently just a coping mechanism – one of the masks he would wear to survive this terrible life he was living.

You weren’t bothered by his words. You knew he would eventually say the forbidden words. Without warning you climbed into his bed and sat on his lap, both of your legs on his sides. You stared at him, fingers tracing along his cheeks, jaw, until you reached his perfectly full lips. He was beautiful – one of the most beautiful humans you have ever seen. His genetic blessings didn't outshine his blessings from within. His soul, even broken and in pain, was still full of love and compassion. It was such a beautiful mix of love and tragedy. Your face was inches away from his and as you got closer, the pain got sharper. You were ready to make him feel whole again, but he had to say the words.

“I know what you crave, Dean. I can feel it.”

“A sexy chick wearing a Zorro mask on top of me?” Still with the humor. You found it cute to an extent. Silly Dean.

“Meaningless sex won’t fix that, y’ know?”

“Yeah,” He finally gave up the shenanigans when he saw you weren’t buying the shit he was trying to sell. “I’ve learnt to live with it.”

You could feel his hot breath against your face as you got even closer. Dean’s eyes softened, jaw relaxed as he cupped your cheek. He only now noticed how beautiful and angelic you look, even under the light of his shitty lamp on the nightstand. Your soft skin under his fingertips felt a little too intimate for him, and yet he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

“You don’t have to live with it though. I can make it go away, you just have to say the words.”

You cupped his hand with yours, his touch sending shivers all over your body. You really liked the sensation. You were craving more. His hand was hot, soft and human. No man nor woman has touched you like this.  

“You mean like, make a wish?” He was finally starting to get it.

“That’s how it goes, right?” You smiled.

“Christ.” – he muttered before swallowing nervously – “I wish I didn’t feel like this.”

“Like what? My magic cannot read minds. You have to be specific.”

He took a deep breath, feeling like he was about to embarrass himself. Verbalizing emotions wasn’t something he was comfortable with. “I wish the pain I feel didn’t exist,” He stated and the words just kept coming. “I wish I wasn't so... broken? I wish for more than just meaningless night stands.” He confessed before it hit him. “Wait, does this count as 3 wishes?”

“You can wish as many things as your heart desires, handsome. Now, close your eyes!”

Dean closed his beautiful green eyes as you went in for a kiss. It usually doesn't work like that. You weren't a crossroads demon. You would usually just snap your fingers and disappear right after. Your magic was powerful and yet simple. But this time it was different. This time a man with a broken soul asked to feel whole again, to feel again. He wanted more than meaningless transactional touches and kisses so you decided to give him what he wanted. You have never come across such a special soul like Dean Winchester. He was giving too much and yet the world was consumed by greed and constantly wanted more. His brother Sam was everything he had, his rock, his world and yet even he couldn't heal things inside of his older brother. Dean was tired of feeling like this.

The kiss was innocent and your first. You didn't exactly know what you were doing but you liked it. His lips were soft and lonely. He was hungry for a connection he didn't have. His body was desperate to be touched. His hand went in your hair as he slowly deepened the kiss, leaving you hot and panting. You have seen people kiss and sleep with each other. You were an avid watcher of rom coms – your favorite pastime whenever you would roam around the world, traveling and making people smile.

Even The Genie needed air, so when you couldn't breathe anymore you broke the kiss. Dean's eyes full of adoration refusing to stop looking at you. How strange how now he was ready to strip his soul and actually look at you.

Your fingers intertwined with his as you pushed them above his head, your face dangerously close to him. You wanted to kiss him again.

"Am I supposed to feel different now?"

"No, this isn't something I can fix with a simple kiss. Your soul is craving another soul and I intend to give you mine. Kiss me!"

Dean lifted his head from the pillow and kissed you again this time slipping his tongue right away in your mouth. His kisses were coded with mint and you liked the taste.

It felt like an instinct almost when your hips started moving, grinding against his dick – only your panties and his boxers separating you. He was already hard and desperate, moving up and down trying too hard to satisfy the need that was only growing stronger.

You have never surrendered yourself so freely, letting a human touch you, let alone kiss you like he did, but you have never had a man like Dean asking you to fix something within him that the world so joyfully broke.

His hands were roaming freely all over your body, studying the shapes along the material of your dress as your lips never left his, until he started kissing your jaw and neck, sending you into a blissful euphoria you never knew existed in the first place. You let out a sigh as your hands went into his hedgehog like hair.

"Love me, Dean!" You spoke between pathetic moans and sighs. "Love me and I'll be yours forever!"

He heard you but his lips were too busy getting drunk on your neck to say anything so he just took you by the waist with both hands and like you were nothing flipped you over.

His lips found yours again in a desperate sleepless hunger as your hand took his and guided him to your already wet underwear.

"Touch me! I'm yours!" You said, letting him know he could. It has been a long time for him and you could feel the nervousness pumping through his veins. As soon as his fingers touched the wet fabric of your panties, pushing it lightly against your wet cunt, you moaned.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He asked, again showing you how beautiful and carrying he was.

You placed a kiss on his lips. "Yes, I am sure."

Your voice was sweet like honey and Dean was experiencing a sugar rush.

“Oh and you can leave my dress on. I can feel how much you like it.” You added and winked.

Dean didn’t quite understand what you meant by that so he asked.

“Can you read minds?”

You smiled. He was adorable. “Not exactly. I can feel it. Your desires, what troubles you – everything. It comes in waves.”

You didn’t let him say anything, instead you crashed your lips on his as your hands went underneath his shirt feeling his soft skin covered in scars. If only he knew his soul shared the same resemblance. Dean realized where your hands were and in a second got rid of the t-shirt.

“I want you!” You whispered into his ear.

He was hypnotized, not really aware of his surroundings, his hardships, his name. Only you existed in his brain, heart and soul.

He took off his boxers, and your panties moments later – leaving you only in your dress and pressed the tip of his dick against your entrance. Nose touching, eyes locked, feeling each other’s breaths on your faces he entered you slowly. It didn’t occur to you that it would hurt since it was your first time. You gasped at the new sensation.

“You’re so tight!” Dean whispered. “Jesus!”

“Move! Please!” You begged. He didn’t need to know. He was your first and only one. After this night your soul will be bound with his, forever.

He moved slowly first, letting you adjust and relax under him. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades as soon as waves of pleasure started splashing you. The pain was gone and you were in pure bliss.

“God, you’re beautiful!” He told you, placing kisses along your jaw.

You moaned his name in response as his pace became faster, his thrusts harder. Your body was on fire and yet you felt a sense of calm. You could feel his pain slowly fading. His worries disappeared. You were stitching him back together.

“You’ll feel whole again!” You said before kissing him.

As he was pounding into you, you could feel something building up in the lower part of your stomach. Your eyes, usually sapphire blue, started fading, replacing the shade with a very light baby blue color. You grinned when you realized what was happening. His wish was about to come true.

“Your eyes –” Dean noticed but you sealed his mouth with a kiss. As he was slamming into you, your climax hit you like a truck. Your body was stiff, pure pleasure engulfing you completely – nothing you have ever experienced before. Dean didn’t stop until he came seconds later, panting and whimpering – completely falling apart from pleasure. He collapsed on you, burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

“This feels different.” He said, trying to catch his breath.

“How so?”

“Feels like love.”

“Your wish is my command!”

You didn’t leave that night. He fell asleep in your arms, for the first time and in a long time, snoring. No nightmares.  His pain was gone. Since sleep was an unfamiliar concept for you, you just enjoyed his presence while your soul was warming up his now healed one.

You knew you weren’t free to roam the world anymore. You were content with being his – forever.

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 10

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: smut (oral/m receiving), talks of period intercourse, detailed PTSD flashback, graphic death of character discussed, self-deprecating talk, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Author's Note: This is a heavy chapter--- Big time PTSD flashback so consider yourself warned! Also, I purposely chose to not use characters in the flashback from the movie Sand Castle. I just didn’t want to kill off anyone’s fave character, so we are going to pretend this flashback was another mission from another deployment right before Sy retired not related to the movie. It was just easier for my conscious to write it that way. 

Part 9

All night long I have nightmares about the war. I wake and try to reset myself like the therapist taught me with deep breathing, water, change of environment, etc.; but nothing is working. I maybe only get about 2 hours of sleep total and I’m exhausted. I still go on my run to try and exhaust myself even more so that maybe tonight I will pass out into a dreamless sleep. I try to fake enthusiasm for whatever Nana is rambling on about in her phone call to me on the way to work but I’m sure she can tell that I’m starting to spiral. Alex can tell that today is one of those days so he asks me if I’m good and when I grunt at him he keeps his distance. God, I’m an ass but I’m obviously not good and I just can’t talk to him about it. Nobody really understands except the boys that I was with when it happened and several of them are dead now. I’m supposed to be their leader and I feel like I should have my shit together. My nightmares continue to worsen throughout the week and I feel like I overcompensate by working harder or exerting myself in more difficult physical pursuits in hopes of tiring my body and my brain out. I forced myself to run four additional miles on Friday even though my leg quickly protested. I focused on pushing through the pain and ended up having to ice my leg after work.

Friday evening finally rolls around, and Emma shows up at the house as planned with a little overnight bag in tow and homemade banana pudding. I’m cooking us some chicken and veggies out back on the grill when she arrives and I feel like I calm a bit just being in her presence. She still looks absolutely adorable as she shows up wearing comfortable clothes-a tank top and soft shorts. I love that she’s feeling relaxed enough with me to just be her most authentic self. After we eat, I fill my belly up with her decadent dessert and I swear I see stars. She’s quite the chef; as if she needed any more of a direct line to my belly or my heart. Assuming she’s still on her period, I ask her if she’s feeling alright and she nods but doesn’t offer more. I suggest we get in bed and watch a movie and she gleefully agreed. We get all cozied up in bed and she chooses a rom-com to put on. Not my first choice, but I’ll do anything to make her smile like that. It’s nice having someone other than myself warm my bed. We fall asleep easily tangled in each other and I’m relieved that I have no nightmares. Maybe Emma is the cure to my nightmares? Or did I really succeed in tiring myself out enough that I slept too hard to dream. Either way, I’m not complaining.

Saturday morning. I wake up at my usual time and smile to myself at finally getting a decent night of sleep. I lay in bed watching my girl dream before I decide to get up and go for a run. If it’s the exercise that helped me sleep last night, I’m not going to miss the opportunity to do it again. I leave a little note on Emma’s nightstand and decide to only run two miles today so I don’t fuck up my leg more than I probably already have. When I get back home, Emma is still a mess of hair and sheets and I can tell that she never missed me. Her hair is halfway across her face, one of her breasts is almost spilling out of her twisted tank top, and the covers are tangled all in her legs which brings a smile to my face. For someone so effortlessly beautiful, she’s kind of a mess when she sleeps and I can’t help but find that to be one of the most endearing things ever. I attempt to take a quick shower and am surprised when ice cold hands wrap around my stomach as my eyes are closed under the spray of the water and I jump like a cat. 

“Damn woman! Your hands are ice cubes.” I say as she laughs uncontrollably.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She says as she hugs me from behind. 

“I woke up and heard the shower running so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I joined you.” 

“Always, join me Sugar. My favorite showers are the ones with you.” I tell her as I turn around to see her. She’s got her beautiful hair tied up in a bun on top of her head and I shift her so that the water runs down her body to warm her up. I spy her adjust the temperature higher and I can’t help myself.

“What is it with women taking showers equivalent to the heat of lava?” She smiles.

“We are colder than you are. Gotta warm up somehow.” She presses a sweet kiss to my lips before turning around and washing her body. I can’t help but stand there like a creep watching her but I’ll never turn down an opportunity to see her wet and soapy.

“I hope you don’t mind that I hijacked your shower.” She smiled sweetly.

“Darlin’, I was done anyway. Now I’m just here for the show.” I arch my eyebrow at her as she spies my obvious erection.

“Let me help you.” She seductively suggests.

“I can help us both.” I offer but she shakes her head.

“Still on my period.” She replies without making eye contact.

“So?”

“We can’t have sex when I’m on my period!” She looks completely shocked.

“Says who? You know, sex actually helps relieves cramps.”  

“But..I might get blood on your…”

“Dick? What’s your point?”

“Isn’t that gross?” 

“Sugar, I told ya, I’m a man. A little blood isn’t going to scare me off. Now if you’re not interested because you don’t feel well or you just don’t want too, I have no problem with that. But, if you’re not interested because you think I’m going to be grossed out or something, I promise I won’t be. You can have me anytime you want, Sweetness. There’s no pressure either way. If you’re uncomfortable with it, I won’t mention it again.”

“Maybe give me some time to come around to the idea of it. I’ve never really considered it as an option.”

“Sure thing, babygirl.”

“You are something else, Bear. You mean it when you said I can have you anytime I want?”

“Mmhmm.” I say as her fingertips trail down my abdomen and she wraps her hand around my throbbing cock.

“Can I taste you?”

“Always, but don’t feel like you have too. I’ll be alright if not.”

“I want too.” She says before pushing me towards the shower bench and taking me in her mouth. In no time at all, I’m coming down her throat after receiving one of the best blowjobs of my life. She has my legs trembling from the stimulation and I can’t help but caress her cheek and kiss her gently when I come back to reality.

“my EmKay.” I whisper as I kiss her tenderly.

“Your EmKay?” She asks. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Funny, I don’t remember being asked to be yours.” She haughtily replies.

“Ya’ ain’t going to make this easy on me, are ya?” Shit, what am I doing. I should have thought this through. She shouldn't want to be with me. The unreal blowjob has me not thinking clearly.

“Now why would I do that?” She retorts with a smile. I palm her cheek so that she’s looking right at me.

“Will you be my woman?” I ask seriously. Fuck it. Why not?

“Only if you’re my man.” 

“Well, I’ve been told that I’m a bear, but I’ll be your man too.” I joke before pressing my lips against Emma’s in a feverish kiss.

As the water gets cold, we finally climb out and get dressed for the day. I decide to take Emma out for breakfast at the diner in town before we go in search of furniture for her guest bedroom. Her parents are arriving next weekend and it was adorable when she shyly asked me if I’d be willing to meet them. I assured her that I’d be happy too and to just let me know when.

We spend a few hours at the furniture store where Emma purchases a matching bedroom set before going to a mattress store and trying out all of the mattresses to determine which would be a good purchase for her guest bedroom. They are able to deliver it same day which is nice so we pick a time for it to arrive that afternoon. We then head to a department store so she can pick out curtains, bed linens, and other odds and ends that I’m told a room requires like lamps and decorations. Being a single man for the majority of my adulthood that was mostly away in the military, I didn’t realize how much work women put into buying all of this shit. Why does she need the guest bath towels to match the hand towel in the bathroom? Or all of the little knick-knack items she bought to go on the dresser? I’m even more confused when she was discussing bed trains? No bed skirts. I’ve slept on friends couches without even a blanket but she’s really rolling out the red carpet for her parents. It’s a bit concerning if they are expecting all of this from their daughter who has lived here for under two months. Maybe they don’t expect it and she’s just trying to show them that she’s a capable adult who plans on settling here. I watch as she spends a small fortune trying to get everything in order for their visit. It’s obvious that she values their opinions. What if they don’t like me? I’m certainly different from the preppy type of guy that they’re used to seeing her with. I’m kind of rough around the edges and although I think I’m pretty smart, I certainly don’t hold advanced degrees. I’m broken from my thoughts when Emma asks my opinion about curtains. It’s sweet that she wants my opinion but I’m a fish out of water when it comes to decorating.

We load up all of the stuff and head back to Emma’s house where I get started hanging curtains as we wait on the furniture and mattress delivery. Emma orders us pizza and we munch on pizza and beer for a while. I’m regretting all of my additional workouts after I finally get the bed put together and the mattress put on it. Emma tried to help but she’s so little I didn’t want her to hurt herself so I ended up just man-handling it myself. She had washed the new bedding and put everything together before we took a look at it and she dove across the top of the bed. Emma patted the space beside her and I laid down next to her on top of the comforter. 

“I’m fucking exhausted and I didn’t even lift the heavy stuff.” She exhaled.

“I didn’t realize it was so much work to put together a bedroom. You sure know what you’re doing though.”

“Thank you. I just pick what I like. I couldn’t have done it all without you though, so thank you, baby. I can’t wait to have them visit and see that I’ve got my shit together here. That I’m not some dumb kid who needs rescuing. I’m able to handle myself.” Ahh, so I was right about that. It’s about proving herself to her parents.

“I think they’ll be impressed, Sugar. I know I am.” I smile at her before yawning.

She kisses my lips before scratching my beard gently. 

“Can we go back to yours, shower and then go to sleep? I’m dead on my feet.” She asks as she stands up and fluffs the new pillows. Why are there like 5 pillows that will just get thrown on the floor? Seems wasteful.

“You still want to come back to mine with me?”

She nods. “I want to be with you and the pups. Since they are at yours, it wouldn’t make sense to get them and come back here. I always sleep really good with you…Unless you’re too tired for a sleep over.” She says sheepishly and I wrap my arms around her.

“Nothing could be better than having my girl in my bed with me.” I tell her because I’m beginning to believe it’s the truth. “Let’s go.” 

We turn out all of the lights and lock up before heading back to mine. Emma’s car is still parked out front from where she left it and it makes me happy that she wants to be here with me. There’s a summer storm approaching and the wind has picked up which has Emma’s hair twirling in the breeze. I pull the patio cushions inside when I let the dogs out to do their business. After a quick shower because we are both too tired to do anything but clean ourselves, we do our nighttime routines before climbing into bed. Emma snuggles next to me with her head on my chest and I’m confident that it’s going to be a good night as we drift off to sleep.

It’s hot, but more than just hot. It’s sweltering. I can feel the sweat rolling down my chest and my back. It’s the type of unbearable heat that has your clothes sticking to your skin the instant you walk out of the mess hall. Then you add your gear, and the added weight from your gear plus your sweat soaked clothes is a certain feeling that I’ll never forget. I smell the smoke of an explosion further in the distance. We have our orders and it’s my job to lead our special forces team in to execute our orders exactly like planned. The problem with that is that most things never go as planned. It would be easy for this to be a cookie cutter mission where we get in and out and go back to base and fuck around for the rest of the afternoon. No, this will require me thinking on my feet at every turn. It’s what I’m trained for, hell, I’m the best which is why I’m the captain. I’ve got seven men with me whose lives rely on me assessing our situation and giving correct orders. They are sons, husbands, fathers, brothers, and friends who have people waiting on them at home. Each order I give is weighted by the knowledge that I’m responsible for them. We’re crouched in different positions behind the old dilapidated building that the informant said our guy would be in. The sun is glaring across our faces but we’re in the best position we could be in for this mission. We’ve been after this specific hostile for months and never been this close to him before. We can hear men inside the building, yelling in Arabic and moving around so we must remain completely silent. If we can hear them, they could hear us. We are ghosts that can’t be seen or heard but must work as a team for this to go smoothly. If one person spots us, it will turn into a close-range gun fight that I can’t imagine we will all win. I inhale deeply and even though there is dust on every inch of myself and the ground, I try to focus my thoughts. 

As I am about to give orders to direct my guys to move on to the next step of our plan, I hear the tell-tale whistle of a bullet zipping through the air. I swivel to the left with my gun and look for the insurgent. I can’t see anyone but the bullet buries itself in the left shoulder of Waites across the way from me. We were fucking set up. I swing my gun back around and that’s when it happens, I hear the bullet and feel it explode into my lower left thigh at the same time blood spews from my friend, Goodwin’s head who had crouched beside me when I stood to look for the shooter. My leg gives out and I instantly drop down into the dirt to where I’m level with Goodwin’s face and it’s obvious, he was killed instantly. His eyes are still opened and he has a massive wound to the head. Anthony. Fuck. His girlfriend is expecting a baby girl in a few months. My leg is burning from the inside out but my adrenaline spike helps me ignore the pain and I grab my gun and instantly start shooting towards the rooftop where I believe the sniper might be. I hear Brown screaming before I realize he’s got Waites against the building and is yelling into the radio for help. I watch as insurgents start coming out of the building we were casing and I start taking them out. Lowell goes down. Setas is either hurt or attempting to provide aid to Lowell. I can’t tell but I never stop shooting. Ramirez is also trying to find the source of the ambush with his own gun. Bullets are flying, many from my own gun as I empty the clip into the only building the sniper could have been on, Browns pleas for backup, along with Waites heavy gurgling breaths fill my ears. I feel a hand on my arm and flinch.

            “Austin! Captain…Captain Syverson. Look at me.” Two hands on either side of my face help me focus in. “St..Stand down. You are safe, the threat has been eliminated. Your superiors have given orders to return to base for further instruction. Do you understand?” 

I blink against the water that’s dripping down my face. Emma?

“My men. The injured men in my unit. Where?”

“They are at base getting medical. Captain, I need you to confirm that you understand me.”

I blink and then nod slowly. “Roger that.” I mutter distractedly. I look around. I’m in the backyard of my house, leaning against the brick exterior in my underwear. I have my pistol tucked in the back of the waistband of my boxers and I’m wearing the boots I leave by the back door. In my hands I’m clutching my old hunting rifle that I keep on the top shelf of my closet. Shit. I’ve done it again. I’ve had a PTSD nightmare, but this is so much worse because Emma is here to witness it. I look over at her. She’s crouching on her knees in front of me wearing nothing but my water-soaked t-shirt and panties while she’s barefoot in the mud. Water is dripping from the ends of her hair from the rain that’s pouring down on us. She looks terrified and concerned. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” My throat aches either from unshed tears or maybe I was yelling earlier.

“Austin, baby, are you back?”

I nod. “Emma, I’m so sorry.” I mutter as tears mix with the rain that drips down my face. This is what I was afraid would happen if I got close to her. If I let her in. I would relax and then my past would quite literally present itself.

“Baby, don’t be. You’re okay, we’re okay.” She tells me as she reaches towards my face that’s now aimed at the ground.

“Aika?” 

“I left her inside. I know you said she could help but I wasn’t able to tell if your rifle was loaded and I didn’t want her startling you and there being an accident.” 

Jesus. She was afraid I’d shoot my own dog, because she’s right, I was nowhere near my right mind. Here we are over six months since my last flashback yet this was the most involved PTSD episode I’ve ever had. Thank fuck I keep my ammunition locked and separate from my guns for situations like this. 

She stands and reaches to help me up but I can’t let her help me stand. My leg feels as though it has been shot just yesterday but that could be a result of me crouching on my knees in freezing rain outside in the middle of the night, not just the psychological pain from my flashback. 

“Come on baby.” She takes the rifle from my hand and I don’t protest. I follow her silently back to the house. The air conditioning on our soaked skin has both of our bodies covered in goose bumps. Aika bounds to me whining and crying and I sit down in a chair from the table and run my hands through her thick fur. I bury my face into her back and focus on breathing. My palm clutches my leg that’s radiating phantom pain from where I got shot. Emma appears next to me with a towel but hesitates. 

“Can I help you clean up a bit?” She gestures with the towel.

I nod and she leans down and starts wiping the mud off of my legs. 

“Sugar, I…”

“Baby, nothing needs to be said. I’m okay, and you are going to be. Would you take a warm shower with me?” I look at her and want to just burst into tears. How is she so kind and understanding after what I just did? After what I could have done?

“Please?” She urges and I nod. I follow her to the master bathroom and watch as she turns the water on. Aika stays close and sits down behind me in the bathroom floor. I have no idea what time it is in the night or early morning or how long she’s been awake dealing with me. Emma pulls out two fresh towels for us and then whips the sodden shirt off of her torso before removing her panties. She looks at me and then slowly and gently eases my soaked boxer briefs down my legs before taking my hand and pulling for me to get in the shower. Once I step in, steam surrounds me and I take a deep breath. I’m exhausted, flashbacks always take the energy out of me and it’s not like I’ve been sleeping great this past week. Emma begins lathering a wash cloth with soap and gently starts cleaning me. I stand there perfectly still and let her do what she wants as I attempt to think of anything that I could say to make this situation better. I’m aching with embarrassment. Once she washes me, she quickly washes herself before turning around and caressing her hand on my cheek. She leans down and picks up my wrists that were laying limp by my sides and wraps them around her waist before putting her own around my neck. My eyes are aimed down focusing on the suds swirling around the shower drain.

“Baby, look at me.” She says with the sincerest and worried look on her face and that’s when my resolve breaks. I bury my face into her neck as the hot tears stream from my eyes. I can’t seem to stop them and I ache when I hear myself let out a sob that sounds so painful and broken even to my own ears. Emma tightens her arms around me and guides me back to the bench that we once used for a much different form of intimacy. Emma curls herself around me and holds me tightly while I fully break down. Once my breath starts to come easier, I carefully pull my head from her shoulder and try to clean my face up.

“Let’s dry off and lay down.” She says as she turns off the water and starts toweling me off. I gently take the towel from her, not wanting to be babied but not wanting to seem ungrateful. Once we dry off, Emma hands me some boxers and she tosses on a dry shirt and panties on before we sit on the bed. It’s silent and I feel like I have to say something.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be thinkin’ but I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I woke you, scared you and I’m sorry I’m so fucked up. I completely understand if this is the last time I see you.” I say quietly and she looks shocked.

“Austin, I’m not going anywhere. This is what relationships are about. Holding each other through the good and bad. I’m not scared and you’re not fucked up. You’re haunted and although I don’t know the details of it, I want to help you through it. Even if you don’t want my help, I’m not leaving you.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I should be better. I survived, Damnit! I shouldn’t have any problems. Goodwin, Lowell, Waites, they are the ones who died. I just got shot in my stupid fucking leg after leading them to their deaths!” I sob.

“You are allowed to have problems. Their deaths are hard on you but you are not responsible for it. I don’t know what happened, but I know it’s not your fault.”

“The informant set us up, we were ambushed. Goodwin, God. Goodwin got shot right in front of me. I watched the life drain from his eyes. He has a little girl that he’s never met. If I had questioned the mission from my superiors or done more digging on the informant, they would all be alive right now. I had to look at their family members at their funerals and I’ll never forget the grief from their loved ones. Goodwin’s pregnant girlfriend, Lowell’s widow, Waites’ mom. I still see them sobbing over their caskets in my mind. I didn’t deserve to live when they didn’t get too.” I finally say out loud. I take deep breaths attempting to calm my body from going into another spiral.

“Bear.” Emma reaches for me.

“It’s been years and I still get like this. Hell, it might be getting worse. I don’t think this is something I’ll just get over. I’m too fucked up, Emma. You deserve someone who doesn’t have these types of demons.” My eyes blink heavily.

“You are not fucked up. I deserve you because you treat me better than I’ve ever been treated before.” My eyes droop and I know it’s a result of the flashback. When I have them, my body goes through the trauma all over again so when the adrenaline finally stops coursing through my body, I basically crash.

“Love, you look exhausted. Can you try to sleep for me?” She asks and gently pushes for me to lay down. My head is resting between her breasts as she lays back on her back. We’ve never laid like this before but it’s comforting.

“I’m right here, I’m not leaving. Aika’s here and so is Mills.” She tells me while caressing my head but my eyes are already closed, too heavy to fight staying open longer. I wrap my arm around her waist and within moments, I’m deeply asleep soothed by the steady rhythm of Emma’s heartbeat as she caresses my scalp.

Part 11

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[girl4music]

Apparently when Gabrielle wakes up from that nightmare of Xena being killed and she caresses her hair as she’s sleeping next to her Renee said Gabrielle was thinking about how beautiful Xena was in their last moments together in that scene and they play that physical intimacy so quietly and so nuanced that it completely blows me away. It’s just a short simple action but there’s just so much behind it that I just can’t help but be in awe of it. It’s one of the most evidential moments of the lover affection she feels for Xena and in exemplifying that her feelings for her go beyond friendship. She’s in love.

Don’t you wish WLW/queer representation was like this all the time instead of the easy and lazy sexual intimacy? In some ways I am so glad this TV show was censored because it forced the creators to really dig deep into this forever evolving relationship and really represent such a natural and authentic love between these two amazing women. You can tell they’re in love even without the explicity of sexual intimacy and it just feels so much more real and organic than TV shows today with WLW/queer representation in that aren’t under the censorship radar and have to abide by the restrictions of the censors.

You know the creators/cast/crew ship them just as much as the fans do and that’s what makes all the difference when it comes to TV art/entertainment with lead female characters that are at least coded if not explicitly written and portrayed as queer.

This is where Xena and Gabrielle lives and it’s bloody beautiful to watch over and over again. Even today this level of representation feels far more sincere than anything explicit.

You can watch something like this and you can see that it is canon even if it cannot be confirmed as such because the love between them really does look and feel like a romance. It’s just more emotional. And honestly, I much prefer that. I much prefer emotional intimacy to sexual intimacy.

They have such a profound love story. Regardless of which way you want to interpret it. It still works. It still hits. And to this day I have not come across a WLW ship as great as X&G because of this reason.

When you think about that this is what SuperCorp could have been or SwanQueen or even Rizzles… If they were just as brave as the XENA lot were. Floors me everytime.

Believe me Kassidy, you ain’t seen nothing yet. These ones are on our side. Absolutely.

[that-gay-jedi]

You know, I really want more used-sounding voices in music in general, women especially bc there's definitely an element of misogyny, but like even when you look at what mostly passes for aged/smokey voices in men it's mostly just either basses who people think don't sound "youthful" because we stereotypically associate tenors with sounding fresh and young, or vocalists in genres with either growling or a lot of chest voice etc that sound just like every other singer if/when they do a song where it's relevant.

And like, I could bore you with all the anatomical details of what makes your voice either sound for lack of better terms "new" vs "used", but that's not really the point.

And sure there's a kind of self-selecting process that goes on because people whose livelihood rests on their voice are more likely to take care of their voices and can maintain their initial sound for decades if they're both lucky and really dilligent, and because successful musicians have money to pay for ways to reduce the rigours of touring and whatnot on vocal health that less popular ones I may not have heard of don't have etc etc, BUT.

Good vocalists whose voices have been noticeably altered by previous workplace/environmental factors or by cumulative years of lifestyle choices or by the ravages of TIME to which none of us are ultimately immune can bring a sense of like vulnerability/rawness/realism/rugged endurance to their performance that a mint condition voice just absolutely cannot match, and there's such an utter lack of it available both locally and commercially we're severely missing out.

This goes across genres and way beyond any question of what's "authentic" by the way. I don't require every song about striking coal miners so come from people who sound like they've worked 20+ years in the mines themselves, and in fact there's a power and beauty in the idea of someone with a relatively pampered voice who's seen entirely different kinds of hardship putting their pipes behind the words of those who struggled before. But you reach a certain age where, metaphorically, the knight in scratched and dented armour is more romantic to you than the shiny one, and yet for all the glut of music we have about romance there are not nearly enough love songs that "get" me (or they may lyrically but only lyrically) now I've reached that age- as just one example.

AND like. Singing is an art that requires a tonne of knowledge and work. Even people with the most naturally beautiful voices don't just wake up one morning knowing exactly how to breathe for which notes nor having the impressive lung capacity many genres prize nor knowing how to read music (or parse music by ear) etc etc etc. Which means there is something so powerful and aching and HUMAN about someone who can hear that their own voice doesn't sound like it could've if their life had been different or like it did when they were younger etc etc still putting in the immense amount study and practice to learn to use the voice they DO have. It adds delicious texture and depth to everything they sing.

Likewise, if someone already has put all that time and energy in and then something alters their voice AND THEY RELEARN/ADAPT AND KEEP SINGING, think about what that puts into everything they sing thereafter.

It's why we love fictional characters who grow beyond deep trauma or have prominent physical scars or who start off their story as a jaded antihero etc etc etc. The essence of what it is to be human is to live with loss and imperfection and still work toward your human desires to be heard, to create, to do, to learn. It's surviving hardship and being changed by time and experience but still reaching out and grasping the fact that YOUR ARE ALIVE with both hands. To not be able to go back to a past that no longer exists, to never again be the same person you were before X or Y thing and yet YOU ARE STILL HERE and deciding that FOR AS LONG AS YOU'RE STILL HERE YOU WILL NOT BE SILENCED.

[plushhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

My Lyft driver and I were talking about capitalism and how depressing it is and he told me a story about how drivers only get 40% of their passengers fare so they’re heavily reliant on tips and there was lady that needed a trip to the casino which is about 50 miles outside of the city of Syracuse and she promised him a very nice tip and when she got out of the car she said “ I really just needed a ride to the casino” and said she never tipped. Then we started to talk about how capitalism is both killing us. He use to travel a lot in the 80s and 90s and is from Bangladesh and told me about how there’s cities in Italy that will pay you to move there. I’m not sure if that’s still a thing. I don’t know why I’m telling this story but it’s just like the commonality between working people is the same we all get up to do shit we really hate while having a deep knowing of what we know makes us feel alive but still choosing the thing that’s killing us because we’re forced too.

It’s nothing super profound but to paraphrase the reality of capitalism is brutal as fuck and unforgiving to poor people. The people we work for we will never become if we keep working for them. I also don’t have a solution and it’s lazy to say become self made but I think we should be following the things we know we love. I really hope the man I met in the car gets to feel more free. I’ve been really valuing talking to older people and I know just because there’s usually a disconnect also I don’t usually just spring up conversations with my Lyft drivers unless they like open up the floor for it. I’m just thinking a lot about how it feels more and more like a recession the more I wake up and go to work and don’t feel closer to my goals or desires and it feels like the strangers I talk to are also going through the same thing.

Between working on Juneteenth and not even having a spirit of celebration or enough time between sleeping and dreaming and waking to go back to my fucking hellscape of a job I really want to find a way to get free of this suffering and encourage others to do the same.

Tip your drivers, listen to people when they speak to you ( your spirit will know if it’s time well spent or wasted.) Please continue to dream and sketch those dreams out and execute those dreams and make them real.

Encourage others that they need to run far away from what’s killing them even if you’re not certain they will or if that’s even possible but the only way we can truly get through these trying times is love, openness, candidness, and real authentic understanding of one another.

Also fuck work.

[eyebright-iris]

Review: The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Where to begin. I think I’d forgotten how it feels to be breathless in the wake of a truly incredible book, heart racing and hands shaking against the back cover. Shoutout to Samantha Shannon for reminding me of that feeling.

The Priory of the Orange Tree is a beautiful flame-coloured hardback that has haunted my shelves since 2019 when it first came out and I grabbed it because it sounded dope, looked gorgeous and there were dragons on it (your first special interest never quite leaves you). After about three and a half years, and after resolving to read every day of 2023, I decided enough was enough; time to tackle this beast.

While other works of Shannon’s have been on my TBR before, Priory is the first of hers I’ve read. It’s my return to epic high fantasy after a long absence, and I can’t say I’m disappointed. Far from it, in fact. This book rattles with its own intensity, the stakes for each character, the rising romance and drama and the freefall towards devastation that builds all the way until about book five of six (for context, the huge 800-page novel is split into six smaller “books”).

I adored Priory. This review will likely be tragically short in an effort to avoid spoiling some of the fantastic reveals and brilliant storytelling, but for now I’ll discuss the things I loved so much about it without revealing too much.

Our four narrator characters are brilliant. They are flawed, messy, human and devoted. Ead is a secret mage tasked with protecting the Queen of a foreign nation; Loth is a kind and devout young man with much responsibility and too sweet and authentic a heart for the puppeteering courts he finds himself in; Niclays Roos is a bitter and jaded old alchemist with a deep core of darkness and a fierce hunger in him; and Tané is a 19-year-old striving to prove herself and take up the mantle of an honoured dragonrider. All four of them work to bring the rich world of the novel to life, each from a different background, with different goals, all eventually clashing and - perhaps, if the greatest evil is to be overcome - aligning.

I’ll briefly touch on the diversity in Priory. Of our four narrators, two (Ead and Tané) are female; both are also women of colour (Ead is black, and while Priory does not take place in our own world, Tané’s home of Seikii shows clear parallels with Japan). Niclays is the only white narrator, and he is gay; Loth is black. Ead and Queen Sabran are both lesbians, and for those who, like me, fall on the aro/ace spectrum, Tané’s arc has no hint of romance, and there is a strong case for aroace Tané. Not only do we have diversity, but well-written diversity too (I know that you can have all the representation you want, it’s not really worthwhile if it’s all terrible). Shannon draws on both Western and Eastern mythology for this fantasy epic, split between two great worlds of the East and West, divided by a vast sea known as the Abyss. Yet within the hemispheres there is conflict and diversity, Seiiki and the Empire of Twelve Lakes in the East, and the various states of the West - Inys, Mentendon, Yscalin, Lasia, Hróth…

One of the greatest aspects of Priory is the way it interrogates history and genre. A story of a queendom ruled only by women, passed down from mother to daughter for a thousand years, sounds feminist until you realise there is more below the surface. When a queendom is passed unfailingly from mother to daughter, everything suddenly hinges on a woman’s ability to give birth - and how feminist does that sound now? There is also the brilliant weaving of conflicting histories, and how those histories have shaped the world as it exists. Institutions that are founded on a single principle, says Priory, will invariably corrupt everything around themselves to maintain that course, even when new evidence says otherwise. When those who claim to know the truth still operate with only half the story, even they can see the real truth as a threat to the status quo.

Priory sings with vibrancy, it clamours with depth. Not a single character comes out unscathed, but that of course begs the question that the novel, on some level, is asking: what is the price we pay for tomorrow? What is it worth to us, what will we lose, to see the sun rise on a better world?

[figomagazine]

This week in albums (Nov 15); Fazerdaze, Poppy, Wallice, & more

Every week, there is so much amazing new music to discover and dive in to – in fact, there is definitely too much for the average person to even begin to chip away at. And when you love nostalgia and rinsing the same handful of tracks over and over (I'm looking at you Grayscale this month with these tasty album previews) sometimes you need to give yourself a mission to help, at least, uncover a few new gems.

That is why, every morning, the first thing I do when I wake up, is go for a walk and listen to a new album. What does new mean exactly? Well for me, it is a record that was released in the last week (sometimes we'll give it a fortnight if it's been a particularly tasty run of new music). There isn't really a process for picking what I'll listen to – it can be an artist I love, an artist that's peaked my attention, an artist everyone else has been talking about, or even a record I haven't heard anything about but has a cool album cover.

So what are we diving into this week?

Poppy – Negative Spaces

Release Date: November 15 2024

Poppy says: “Negative Spaces continues the sonic adventurism of this spring’s diamond-radiant industrial anthem New Way Out, with Poppy and producer Jordan Fish (ex-Bring Me The Horizon). It’s the thrilling sound of an ever-evolving artist redefining their legacy one song at a time, with a welcome understanding that there’s still so much inspiration to be found in the margins yet to be explored, deep within the negative spaces.”

FIGO says: Read our review of Poppy's Negative Spaces here

Fazerdaze – Soft Power

Release Date: November 15 2024

Fazerdaze says: "New Zealand artist and producer Fazerdaze (Amelia Murray) explores the complexities of womanhood on her transformational sophomore album. Amelia melds dreamy synths and electronic beats with rock elements, creating a sound that balances gritty authenticity and refined pop brilliance, and explores themes of devotion, fierce self-compassion, and matured self-awareness."

FIGO says: COMING SOON

Two Another – Suburbia

Release Date: November 15 2024

Two Another says: "Two Another are Eliot Porter and Angus Campbell, a musical duo originating from Sydney, Australia. The new album is a coming-of-age story that follows fictional characters through their challenges and triumphs of navigating the final four years of high school in the suburbs. This musical odyssey unfolds through four distinct EPs — FRESHMAN, SOPHOMORE, JUNIOR, SENIOR — and culminates in the collected works."

FIGO says: COMING SOON

Wallice – The Jester

Release Date: November 15 2024

Wallice says: "I spent the last 2.5 years writing this record and I am so proud to share the first two songs from it. We recorded everything at the beginning of the year in New York... I hope you guys love these songs and love the album."

FIGO says: Read our review of Wallice's The Jester here

Shawn Mendes – Shawn

Release Date: November 15 2024

Shawn Mendes says: "Music really can be medicine. [Two] years ago I felt like I had absolutely no idea who I was. A year ago I couldn’t step into a studio without falling into complete panic. So to be here right now with 12 beautiful finished songs feels like such a gift. Honestly thank god for my friends and family. Life can be brutal but having a small group of people you deeply trust to walk you through makes it so much better. I have no idea how I would have made it through the last couple years let alone make an album without you.”

FIGO says: COMING SOON

Du Blonde – Sniff More Gritty

Release Date: November 15 2024

Du Blonde says: "Inspired by the freedom of self-engineering and self-producing her last album, 2021's Homecoming – which she also self-released – the new sonic world of Du Blonde goes even bigger and more unhinged. Described as "a one-man pantomime of glam-rock, punk, and a single, acrylic nail adorned middle finger," Sniff More Gritty promises to be the most colourful incarnation of Du Blonde to date."

FIGO says: COMING SOON

South Summit – The Bliss

Release Date: November 15 2024

South Summit says: "A fusion of reggae, indie rock, and hip-hop, and explores new sounds while staying true to the band’s roots, The Bliss is a fresh new sound to our fans. We mixed up happy and sad vibes and everything in between. We had a blast experimenting with new sounds and pushing the limits of our production and live performance in the studio. We like to call this vibe a mixture of everything we’re excited about right now, while keeping a hint of our classic South Summit feel.”

FIGO says: COMING SOON

Towns - Sentimental Slowdown

Release Date: November 15 2024

Towns says: "For a band that first connected over a shared love of nostalgia and pop-punk riffs, this album is both a time capsule of their experiences together and an anthem to growing up on their own terms. On ‘sentimental slowdown’, the duo confronts the tension between the urge to grow up and the comfort of holding on to the past. This theme, first explored in the title track, resonates throughout the album: “‘Grow up and let go’? No way. We’ll chill out and reminisce, thanks,” the band says, celebrating nostalgia as a refuge rather than a hurdle."

FIGO says: COMING SOON

[thepermanentrainpress]

MEKEL: HOW TO FORGIVE (AND LET GO)

How to Forgive (and Let Go) – mekel Release Date: February 3rd, 2023

Track Listing:

1. TEETH 2. Not Good Enough for the Truth 3. SICKWISHES 4. HOUSEPARTY 5. Would-Be Memories 6. DROOLING 7. Fragile Fragility 8. How to Forgive (and Let Go)

How to Forgive (and Let Go) is self-described by singer-songwriter mekel. The Edmonton-raised, now Montreal-based artist debuts her first album with an impactful punch, laced with traces of pop, girl-punk, and r&b. mekel is exceptionally talented at capturing the story of love and the loss of it; bitterness, truth and acceptance are all themes explored in this album with a rawness and dramatism that feel authentic. It is perfect for when you’re mourning your shitty ex, and all of the emotions that come with being in and out of love.

Right away I’ll call out my favourite part of the album: the lyrics. mekel reads poetic by nature. Her lyrics are entrancing, with a mixture of metaphor and storytelling contrasting very simple and blunt lyrics. For example, in the opening song “Teeth” mekel sings, 

"Is it my teeth or the way that I speak that makes you question “why?”

Wasn’t I skinny enough to fit into the void that was in your heart?”

The style reminds me of early Paramore and Avril Lavigne — women that knew how to sing about how love (and breaking up) are ultimately nothing in the journey of self-worth and emotional expression. Paired with her dreamy synth-pop production and guitar, mekel should be listened to alongside new faces like Olivia Rodrigo and Willow.

I think mekel’s artistic vision for the album shines through in her darker songs. “SICKWISHES,” “HOUSEPARTY” and “DROOLING” all feature the constant thrum of a deep guitar, snare, or drums and bass juxtaposed with mekel’s haunting, airy vocals. These vocals are treated with reverb or autotune to give the songs a chilling quality to it, amplifying the feelings of betrayal and rage. It provides the album with the right energy emphasizing that How to Forgive (and Let Go) is “not a linear process” (mekel, 2023). Nobody wakes up after hardship and gets better everyday. We slip up, get angry, and sometimes find ourselves in the same place we started. mekel is here to remind us that it’s okay, and there’s feminine strength in that.

Speaking of the album’s narrative, I feel it does a good job of guiding the listener through this non-linear process in a way that is not jumbled. It still feels very cohesive, and it is songs like “Fragile Fragility” – my favourite on the entire album – that remind us of the pain and remorse that come with heartbreak. “Fragile Fragility” also highlights mekel’s production in a way that the other songs do not. It features mekel’s lullaby-esque vocals layered on top of each other accompanied by a haunting, minimal piano progression. It is different from the rest of the songs and makes for a striking track.

Each track searches for something that is either explicit — when can you leave that awful houseparty? — or something that the listener can uncover and find for themselves. The ending track, “How to Forgive (and Let Go),” is different for a reason. Not donning most of the pop inspiration the rest of the album has, this track is quiet and focused on the soft strumming of a single guitar and mekel’s vocals. mekel describes this track as “finding the answer” and I think it is a beautiful way to conclude an album about processing, expression, and healing.

Written by: Alexa Tarrayo

[dexrm]

kare no hime | 彼の姫

This story will contain mature themes.  Read at your own risk.

Previous chapter

Next chapter 

-

Sukuna wasn’t happy after you left Uraume, but was unbothered when you said you were with Toji Zenin.  While travelling to your new residence north of Kyoto, Sukuna is ambushed with a curse technique that will forever change him.

Chapter five - Tsuku

“I was kidnapped and escaped, Sukuna,” you explain.  “It’s not my fault I was cornered, is it?” you tried to make your voice sound convincing.  Even if it was true, you felt as if your tongue made you sound like a liar.

“Who was that man?” Sukuna asked, toneless.  “Why did you go to him instead of trying to find me?”

You blink.  

“He saved me,” a brief sentence came from your mouth.  

“We should thank him next time,” his voice gave a sense of uneasiness.  You look up.  There he was, not glaring at you, but the path Toji left.  Your sister always blabbered about if a man doesn’t like another one of your man friends, he feels something much more for you.  

Sukuna and Toji both abandoned you at your worst.  Or actually, it’s more of Toji.  You were the one taken away from Sukuna.  Sukuna had a strange aura around him constantly.  You’ve seen his laughter rom slaughtering humans, but never an authentic one from him being humoured that doesn’t involve violence.  

You admire his ambition.  You really did.

Sukuna then walks away from you, gesturing his finger.

“Are we going home?” you ask, catching up.

Sukuna stops to give you an annoyed stare.

“We will not go back to Hida for a while,” he said.  “I will take you to our new residence.”

You nod.

-

No one ever told you your new residence was deep in the woods.  But you had to sit silently with Sukuna, whom was in deep thought again.  Moment by moment, he got one of his tattoos back.  It was like he was growing back into a monster.  

“Are you in love with that man?” Sukuna asked out of a sudden.

“No,” you reply steadily.  “Why?”

“Don’t women like those hero stories and fall in love with those men?” Sukuna laughed.  “So you don’t?”

“No.” your heart tightened.

Sukuna went back to his silence.

While he was in his own world, your entire body trembled.  Not out of fear, but your heart pounded this time.  You could sense your stomach twisting and stretching.  It felt hot.

“I need to get out,” Sukuna commanded, and Uraume immediately stopped.

You peek out the window.  The wooden wagon stood in the middle of nowhere, and Sukuna was just standing.  But not regularly standing.  Like he was waiting for prey to come to him.

Suddenly, the wagon flew up as you fall on the side.  Your head aches in pain, as another horrendous blow of a piece of wood hit your arm.  You couldn’t move, at least not now.  With the excruciating hit on the side of your forehead, you couldn’t even think.  

“Master Sukuna!” Uraume’s alarmed, not composed voice made you shiver as bits of tears flowed down your face.  You find a broken hole, and shuffle your body to peek.

Sukuna was on the dirt ground.

He didn’t respond to Uraume’s calls and pushes.

You put your hand over your mouth at the sight.

Beside Uraume were four other tall men you didn’t recognize.  They all wore dark blue robes or black kimonos, and one of them even had a disoriented head.

“Now, let us get Uraume,” a man with long black hair said in a calm tone.  

“Are we gonna just leave Sukuna there?” the disoriented head hissed.

“This path has been unused for years, they’re the first to go this way,” he sighed.  “I doubt even a wood cutter will come across here to save the now fallen King of Curses.”

He whispered to the man.

“Plus, you need me to defeat Uraume, remember?”

The other man glared, but nodded.

You looked back at Uraume.  They attempted to touch Sukuna’s body, but knew they had no chance.  Their only choice now was to run.  The other men chased after her.

You slowly sit up, head still dizzy and pounding.  Opening the now half destroyed window, you crawled out.

Sukuna laid there, unconscious.

You quickly ran to Sukuna, stumbling over him.

“Wake up please,” you cry.  You had no where to go now.  “Ryomen Sukuna, our deal isn’t over yet, wake up,” in the first in of your life, you used an immense amount of force to shake someone.  “Wake up!” you say in his ear.

For once in your life, you wish you weren’t free from him.

“Where am I?” his voice cracked.

You look at his face again.  He was blinking.

“You were attacked,” you explain.  “Are you hurt?”

“I was attacked?” his confused voice made your brain stop.  “I don’t remember being attacked.”

The worst of the worst came true.

“Do you remember your name?” you ask, cautious.

“N-no,” he said, sitting up now.  “Do I know you?”

“No,” your eyes were now red.  “We’re strangers.” the word made you want to vomit.  Before, Sukuna and you were strangers.  It was an undeniable fact.  But you wanted to understand more of his thoughts, his past.  He truly was a human monster, back then at least.

You stand up to leave Sukuna alone.

“Where are you going?” his voice made your heart heavy.

Your deal was now over with him.  You’re free.

A sudden punch in your chest hit you.  You cough up blood, lots of blood.  Each cough were like needles entering your lungs, slowly sinking into them.  Your head pounded faster, each breathe you took in made living feel like hell.

Coming to realization, you couldn’t break the rules.  Even if Sukuna has no memory of what happened, a vow was a vow.

Walking to the wagon, you pull out your bag.  You turn around to lift Sukuna up.

“We need to leave here, now,” you command.  “It’s not safe, people will come back to attack us.”

“Is there a village near by?” he asked.  

“We’ll find one,” you say.  

Walking the opposite direction, Sukuna follows you, but catches up to walk beside you.  You walk even faster, and he catches up easily.  

“I’ll lead the way,” he asserted.

“You don’t even remember how you came here,” you say with a stern tone.  

“I don’t care,” he laughed, walking.

-

The journey to find a village of any kind was long, exhausting, and made you furious.  This Sukuna wasn’t as calculating, he was open about his mistakes.  He would reach a dead end of trees, turn back, and repeat.

But the two of you saw smoke coming from a distant hill.

“Finally,” you gasp.

“What should my name be?” Sukuna stops.  You freeze at the question.  The name Ryomen Sukuna would give the bad men an idea of where he was.  

“I’ll name you,” you think.  “Tsuku?”

“That works,” Sukuna replied.  “Ugly name though.”

Although he was in no place to say that, you tolerated his comment.

Squinting, you spot a woman wearing slightly loose purple robe.  You walk closer, to see she was collecting herbs.

“Hello?” you yell.  The woman turns around, startled.

From the long grass, she pulls out an axe.  She walks, closer and closer to where you and Sukuna stood.  She then drops the axe.

“Yes?” she finally replied.

“Apologies if we startled you, we wanted to seek refuge from a nearby village.  We were recently just robbed most of our valuables,” you say.  

“Oh, I’ll lead you there,” the lady quietly said.  “I’m sorry if I looked as if I was about to attack you, there have been rumours of a beast in this forest.”

While following the lady, you glance at Sukuna.  One more tattoo added on the back of his neck.  He obviously was unaware of it though.

The village was relatively smaller than the one you lived in the Hida province.  But most houses still weren’t made from straw.  The lady’s robe was silk and new, probably from the wealthier part of the village.  She led you and Sukuna to her small but nicely furnished house.  Compared to Sukuna’s old residence, the smaller house was not minimalist at all.  There were flowers, plants, and decor anywhere you went.

You two finally sat on mats in the supposed guest room.

“My name is Aoi.  Tell me, where are your families?  What do you do for a living?” the woman pours green tea into cups.

“I don’t have a family,” you say.  “And he..  recently hit his head.  He can’t remember anything.”

This Sukuna didn’t glare at the woman with a deadly stare, but he drank his tea like a normal person.  But his gaze was still lifeless.

“I see,” the woman stopped to think.  “I have enough resources to house you both, but you two must contribute to the household, or else my husband will get mad.” she said with a vague smile.  She looked at you.  “Young lady, what is your name?”

You take a deep breathe.

“Fushiguro is my family name,” you reply.

“You will help with cooking, washing the clothes, and caring for my children.  Their both four,” she stood up.  “What about this man?”

“Tsuku,” Sukuna immediately said in an annoyed tone.  It was like he knew you were going to speak for him.

“You will aide my husband in his work then, I don’t know what he exactly does, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate extra help.”

Sukuna nods.

“You two will sleep in this room, and stay until you find a new place to live,” Aoi said.  “You will all start working tomorrow.”

The moment Aoi left the tiny room, you open the window.  It the sun was practically down, but you can see the red and orange hues at the bottom of the sky.  Sukuna sat down the thin mat we were supposed to sleep on.

“If you were just a stranger, how come a broken wagon was right beside us?” his voice was rather condescending, but not as much as before when he didn’t randomly forget everything.  Jujutsu or not, you didn’t understand.  But the other men clearly did something to Sukuna.

“I was travelling,” you confidently lie, sitting down on the bed next to him.  Your head still heavily ached from the fall, but you could feel the injury somewhere on the side of your head, your hair covering some of the blood.  But asking the lady to treat it was too much to ask for.  “I was robbed most of my things, and then I saw you lying on the ground.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow.  It was something he never did at all before.  The old Sukuna seemed to know the answers to everything.

“Thank you for saving me, Fushiguro,” he said.  Hearing Sukuna thank you was the last thing you expected, but you reminded yourself he wasn’t the same person.  

“I wouldn’t leave anyone like that in the middle of the forest,” you say, putting a blanket over yourself.  “Do you remember nothing from your life?”

“No,” Sukuna’s gaze leaned towards the window.  “I remember nothing at all,” he then turns to look at you.  “Are you injured?”

“No, why?” you tried not to stutter.

“I smell blood,” Sukuna claims.  

“I slightly hit my head,” you quickly shut his claims.

“Get it treated,” he lies down.  

You didn’t lie down.  You stared at Sukuna, wondering how different he was.  You weren’t quite sure what to do next.  But food, shelter, and safety wasn’t a problem now.  You didn’t know if you should leave Sukuna here and find your family, or take him with you.  But you couldn’t.  Your deal with him wasn’t over, but he doesn’t even remember the deal.  

Sukuna turned around to catch your eye.

“I don’t like it when people stare,” he said, turning back.

-

The cold midnight air woke you up.  Although the room was originally warm, it felt like the middle of winter.  The room was so dark you could barely see in front of you without overthinking about those creatures.  That purple blob who kidnapped you.

There was a slight knock on the window.  You back off a little.

“It’s me, Fushiguro,” a casual voice said.

Toji.

The window creaked opened, to reveal the muscular build and black robe.  It really was Toji Zenin.  His smug face.  Scar.  It was really him.

“T-toji?” your voice cracked.  “Why are you here?  How did you find me?”

“I’ll always know where you are,” he climbed in.

“Are you here to take me back?” a slightly trembling you asked.

Toji walked closer to you.  This time, his face was much more warm and approaching.  It was Toji.  But didn’t feel like Toji.  He looked at you in the eye.

“We are married, what do you mean?” he said.  “I’m just taking my lost wife home.”

“You abandoned me,” you lash out, but not aggressive enough to irritate him.

“Stop throwing tantrums,” he gently laughed.

Before you could react, a pair of giant hands flew to Toji’s neck, pinning him against the wall.  A monstrous height and body rose from the darkness.

Sukuna in his beast form.

His glowing red eyes stared into Toji’s.  A cunning smile rose from his face.

“Stop!” you shriek, rushing to slap Sukuna’s hands.  It was no use.  No matter how much you cried, you couldn’t stop Sukuna.  Toji was getting bluer by second, and you knew his ending.

“Toji!” you cried.

-

A gentle slap on the stomach, made you sit up from your cries.  You were still in that same room.  It wasn’t dark.  The moonlight was bright enough for you to see Sukuna leaning towards your face.

“Get off!” you crawl away from him.

“You were having a nightmare,” he said, unbothered.

“I was?” your voice sounded more paranoid then ever.  “Did you choke someone?”

“No,” he said, backing away.  “Were you dreaming of me hurting you?”

“Nono,” you say.  “I dreamed of someone I know hurting a friend.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he says.  He looked slightly scary, but genuine.  “I wouldn’t hurt someone who was my saviour.”

“How do you know I don’t have intentions to use you?” you joke, slightly happy on the inside.  

“Because,” he leaned forward, head towering over you.  “A vulnerable young lady with nothing, helping an unconscious man on the streets.  Tears in her eyes.  You did that out of mercy and kindness.”

“I guess you could say that,” you weren’t sure if you really did that out of kindness, or because of the consequences of breaking the binding vow.  

“There aren’t much people like you out there nowadays,” Sukuna suddenly scowls.  “A lot of them are selfish bastards.”

“How do you know if you lost your memory?” you started getting more comfortable.

“I remember seeing a child with an ugly, disfigured face being beat to death by some wealthy lords,” his gaze sharpened with disgust.  “I don’t know when or where.”

“There isn’t much you can do,” you say, leaning against the wall.  Sukuna doesn’t.  He sits on your mattress, legs half crossed, hand on his face.  “As long as hierarchy of any kind exist, people will belittle others, humiliate them.

“Of course it can be changed,” he snapped.  “If all humans were disfigured and sad, we’d be equal.  No one can laugh at you for looking and behaving strange,” Sukuna explained in a serious manner.

You cover your mouth to laugh.

“Most people would say if all people were healthy and kind to one another, we’d all be equal.  Your approach is interesting,” you shuffle closer to him.  Placing a hand on his shoulder.  

“Nonsense,” he replied.  “Illness will happen as long as mankind stay on this earth,” he glanced at you for a few seconds, then turning away.  “A perfect world is not realistically achievable, but an imperfect, grief ridden one will only make everyone appreciate what they have.”

You start to imagine a world where no one had a beautiful face.  Where everyone was ill, disfigured, and poor.  Where everyone was in grief.  It would be a disaster.

But it was true.  No one can compare themselves to others, or ask for more.  

“And how will you change mankind?” you ask.

“We have work tomorrow, let’s get some sleep.”

“Goodnight,” you say, before your head hits the mat once again.

[justfangirlthingies]

Morning Chase (Sunday Mornings) (Dad! Draco Malfoy)

Word count: 1477 words

This is just pure fluff!

Enjoy family time at Malfoy manor!

Here's part 2

Weekends at the Malfoy's were reserved solely for family. Especially the Sundays.

On Sundays there was no work, though the young parents wouldn't even have to go to work at all with the Malfoy and (L/n) fortunes combined. No special plans or duties. Just family. Maybe his parents, your parents or your siblings (if you don't have siblings just ignore the sibling part) would pay you a visit, but that didn't happen too often. Family visits were more of a Saturday afternoon thing after all.

Typically, it was quiet inside the manor when the sun rose and the first rays of light shone through the curtains in the master bedroom on a Sunday morning. At this time of day, Draco and (Y/n) Malfoy were usually still asleep. Her form nuzzled into his chest, their legs entangled. From time to time, their son would sleep in their bed as well, cuddled up in between the couple, basking in the warmth and comfort they provided. However, most nights from Saturday to Sunday the boy would sleep in his own room.

When the sunlight would finally find its way through a slit in the heavy curtains, it would oh so often gently dance across Draco's nose and the rest of his face. This would cause him to pull you closer and hide his face in your hair or his pillow in order to escape the light, which was sure to blind him slightly if he dared to open his eyes. Eventually, the stirring and shuffling of your husband would wake you. On days like these you would pull each other closer, still half asleep when you'd hear the sound of a door opening and closing down the hall, followed by the pitter patter of small feet and thereafter, the noise of the wooden bedroom door squeaking as it was opened, the small footsteps resuming.

Seeing as your face was practically buried in Draco's chest, you were certain he felt the smile that made its way onto your face when you felt the mattress dip slightly, due to the little boy who was climbing onto the bed. Soon there was a lot of shuffling surrounding you and you could feel the light weight of your darling son shift around on top of you as he climbed over you as carefully as he could manage. Once he had succeeded in stepping over you, he'd try to squeeze his small form between the two of you. A quiet chuckle resonated from where your head was placed and you finally opened one of your eyes. Your (e/c) eye meeting a pair of silver irises. Those he had inherited from his father, no doubt, just like the hair and nose. "Good morning sweetheart, did you sleep well?" you smiled at him as you opened your other eye as well, caressing the soft skin of his cheek with one hand as you untangled yourself from your husband, to make some space for the boy. "Good mornin mummy! I slept well!" He returned your greeting gleefully and engulfed you in a hug, which you returned immediately. Fingers gently running through his soft platinum hair. Draco admired the two of you, adoration filled his gaze as he watched you engage with each other, sometimes he was still baffled how he had made it this far. It happened often that he questioned himself about how he possibly deserved you and why you had decided to give him a chance back then. Why you had chosen to stay with him of all people, a bully and former death eater. He couldn't help but wonder how he deserved such a perfect, loving little family. But it didn't matter how and why, all that really mattered was that he had the two of you and that he'd give everything in his power to keep you safe and happy- His thoughts were cut off when he was pulled back to reality by his son "Daddy!" the smaller looking version of Draco must've just noticed that his other parent was awake as well, so he left your embrace to jump into his father's arms. "Scorpius!" Your husband exclaimed, he sat up rather quickly, just in time to catch the child in his arms. A loud, rather overdramatic "OOF!" fell from the blonde's lips as he let himself fall backwards into the bed again, but not before emitting another over exaggerated groan. The young Malfoy held onto his father as he squealed in delight. You yourself couldn't help but giggle at the scene before you. You were absolutely bedazzled with the way your two boys interacted. You watched as a sly smirk crossed Draco's features, he whispered something to Scorpius, all the while keeping his steely gaze directed at you. The way your son's lips curled up into a huge grin as he took in whatever it was that your husband instructed could only mean mischief. You decided to play along, after all Sundays were for family. So you got up cautiously, two pairs of eyes trained on your every move as you sprinted out of the room and through the house. Your son's laughter could be heard somewhere not so far behind you. You were quick to hide in the playroom, a place where you knew they'd surely find you. It was a game after all and not one you intended to win. You were right because after a few minutes the door to the playroom opened and you came face to face with Scorpius. Just as he was about to call for his dad you pressed a gentle finger to his lips " Hey buddy, how about we do whatever you and daddy have planned for me, to daddy?" He seemed to ponder for a moment before a grin appeared on his lips and he nodded "DADDY! I FOUND MOMMY IN THE PLAYROOM!" Not even 10 seconds later the love of your life stood in the door frame, a mysterious glimmer in his eyes as he approached you. Then from one moment to the next you were scooped up bridal style in the man's arms "We've got you now!" a cocky smirk was plastered on his face, yet his eyes were full of affection. Grey eyes you could always get lost in. He raised an eyebrow in amusement, that act effectively ripped you from your trance and was also your clue to start acting distressed. So you did.

"No! Please let me go!" you laughed, thrashing around in his arms, but Draco didn't budge, he just held onto you tighter, by doing so he restrained you from your little play fight and just carried you back to the bedroom where he threw you onto the king-sized bed. "Never!" he played along and trapped you under his body. Scorpius let out a joyful laugh and when he saw you wiggle your eyebrows at him and then shift your gaze to his father, he took the hint and tackled Draco with all his might. Having caught the man off guard he actually lost balance and rolled off you, the groan leaving his throat this time was an authentic one "Scorpius, you can't just betray me like that!" The adult whined. Needless to say, you hadn't expected your son to do that either, he was always such a gentle soul, which is why you were taken by surprise for a moment. The realization that the tackle attack actually happened and your husband's reaction to it caused you to wheeze and roll around the bed because you had found it so funny. "Oh, so you think this is funny, do you?" Draco frowned. "Yes" you took a deep breath before your laughing continued, tears forming in the corner of your eyes from the fun you were having "Yes I think this is hilarious" A smaller hand pulled on your fingers to get you to stop laughing, a bright, flashing smile belonged to the owner of the small hand "Come on mommy, help" You tried to compose yourself as you watched the four-year-old climb onto your husband's chest and start tickling him. As soon as you managed to calm down and gained control over your breathing back, you joined in and helped with tickling Draco, who laughed and wiggled around to escape, until he declared surrender "I give up! Please stop, I yield! I yield!" ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ Sunday mornings were quality time spent together. Sunday mornings meant relieving the house elves of their duty to prepare breakfast and to try yourself instead. Those days stood for a mess in the kitchen and big smiles on everyone's faces. Sunday mornings were reserved for family breakfast and tabletop games. For story time and cuddles on the large living room couch. Sunday mornings were followed by family lunch and Sunday afternoons. ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Now, what happened on Sunday afternoons?

Taglist: @ateez-star

[reflectionsofneptune]

little things about the Mars Signs

18+ 

little, dreamy things I associate with sex and the Mars signs in Astrology. 

Aries Mars

Rawness. A strong grip. Tugging a lock of hair when it gets too much. A thin line between pain and pleasure. Nails scratching down a back because of frustration. A build up. Taunts. Deliberately causing arguments because make-up sex with you feels so good. Will you take the bait? Sex feeling new each time. A fast rhythm. Confidence. Advancing towards you. Feeling protective over you. An urge to KO anyone who looks at you for more than 2 seconds. Warrior urges instigated. Persistence got me this far in life, let me show you how it works for me.

Taurus Mars

Pressure. A slow burning warmth that licks up the body. We have all the time in the world.  Every part of the body exposed to a kiss, a touch, a breath of air. Flickering of orange flames in a fireplace. A feeling of pure, unabashed sensuality when naked. Coolness of air which brushes the hairs on the back of the neck. Rooted in sexual energy. Slow and steady wins the race. Scented massages. Starting at the base of the neck. Feeling strength. Resilience. Flavoured condoms. Drunk on your love. How is it possible you taste sweeter every time? The smooth column of the throat. The shadows a sunset causes dancing. Seduction is like art to me, let me paint you a masterpiece. 

Gemini Mars

Curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat had nine lives. Opening up to try different things. Trying to do too many things at once. Falling on the floor so we stay there. A combination of arms and legs. Head cocked to one side. Observing you from a different angle. Slanted eyes. A feeling of pressure that’s quick but growing in acuteness. Busy hands. Roaming fingers. Lights on or off it doesn’t matter. I can still picture you. In my mind. With my eyes closed. You’re a permanent imprint on my psyche. My desire resides on the mental plane. Whispering all the things I want to do to you. Biting an ear lobe. Wanting to learn about every inch of your body. Tell me your fantasies and watch how fast I bring it to you in real time.

Cancer Mars

Baby. But I can take control. It depends how I feel. An emotionally charged touch. Hearts in sync. A vivid imagination. Role-playing. Wearing that outfit I know has that effect on you. Playing coy. If I’m feeling sad, I might insist we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, just for a while. Is that OK? A stormy kind of desire. Waking up to kisses. Not wanting to sleep because this moment is all I ever dreamed of. This feels like home. Checking in with you. A sensitive kind of love. Hold me tight. So tight I can’t breathe. Only then will it feel right. TLC. Crying before, during and after sex. I can’t help it. A sudden wave of desire, greedy in nature. Strong feelings of lust. My fervour for you is bottomless, this is but a small representation of its total expression.

Leo Mars

Doing it in the mirror so I can show you how beautiful you look. Don’t be shy. Rose petals on the bed. Even more rose petals on the floor. I wanna perform for you. An effortless performance, start to finish. This is what you signed up for. Let me deliver my end of the deal. Pride in the bedroom. Forgetting about past lovers. At the moment of release, saying my name soothes the lion inside that bares it’s teeth when you’re underneath me. Aggression. Feeling royal together. Round one barely took the edge off. Leaving my mark on you. The bedroom feels like a hunting ground. Running isn’t an option. Pleasure in all its forms. Can you tame the beast?

Virgo Mars

Acting reserved in public but it’s a different story behind closed doors. Who knew? Not afraid to get dirty with you. Voyuerism. Less stress. Surrendering to pleasure and not feeling guilty for it. Peace with the imperfection of this ritual. Perfection out of the window. Lust making a direct entrance, front and centre. Tasting you. And then kissing you. Tasting us. Fresh sheets. Getting equally turned on watching you get dressed vs watching you get undressed. When we’re done, cleaning you as an act of service. Submission. A routine that brings order to a chaotic life. If I tell you how crucial this is to my well-being, will you look down on me?

Libra Mars

Fluid. Fluidity in our movements. You first, then me. Close your eyes if you like. There’s no rush. I like being here with you. Who said romance was dead? Wants and desires expressed with you in mind. Sleepy sex. In the throes of passion, you still look like a masterpiece. Can’t get enough. Delicate petals of a rose. Instinctively knowing how to get you off. Licking my lips. And then licking you down there. Playing with you with finesse. How does this feel? Dressing up, just for you. A breathy sigh released in the crook of the neck. Scented candles. Not knowing where each other begins and ends. Not caring. A true union of souls. Sharing this helps me to forget about inner turmoil, if only for a little while.

Scorpio Mars

Enticement. Pupils full and unblinking. Space between us lasts for a second. Who are we kidding? Sharing oxygen. Sucking on your bottom lip. Eyes on me. That’s not a request. Wanting to watch you fall apart. A wet trail left by a tongue. Those kind of toys. Do you trust me? Show me how much. Fingers pressed into the skin, hard. A ghostly handprint flashes on the surface of the skin for a heartbeat. Teeth tease the throb of a pulse point. Blood rushing. Be brave enough to discover the intensity of my feelings and be sucked under. Only to rise up in levels in consciousness on a spiritual plane. Love is transformational. I’m willing to show you what you do to me. Don’t run.

Sagittarius Mars

Free rein. Sex with the possibility of being exposed. Down for whatever. Bluntness. Desires expressed with no shame. A finger over the lips. Playing to win. Feeling energised when rolling around the sheets. Nothing is off limits. Fantasies coming true. No strings attached. Watch me do you. Laughter as foreplay. Relax with me. You may have tried this position before but with me it’s different. Let’s get physical. A work out. Kissing you to muffle your screams. Messy hair. Messy sheets. How did this end up in the bed? Mundane details of life losing their importance when we’re together. Feeling the strength coursing through the thighs. I would risk getting caught with you.

Capricorn Mars

A hand on your waist in public, a hand on your throat in secret. Trust me, it feels better when you wait. Limits pushed. Burning up. Debauchery. I won’t tell. It’s our little secret. Experience is a turn on. Standards are a turn on. A sense of control. Mastery. I know this game in and out. Sex is all about power at the end of the day. Soft bristles of a whip, barely brushing the spine. I know how to do this with my eyes closed. How do you feel about blindfolds? Vulnerability. Replaying these moments we share in inappropriate places. Seductive e-mails. Legs pressed tightly together. Having power over you is an accolade I hold close to my heart, not something I take for granted.

Aquarius Mars

Electric. Electricity when our fingers touch. Permission to be one’s free, authentic self. A non-judgement zone. Non-physical forms of affection. I’m open to trying something new with you. Inviting other people into the picture but only you can make me feel this way. Incorporating technology to add a new flavour. Feeling closer to you in group sex. Conversations intermingling within the very act of sex. Noses brushing against each other faintly. Deep eye-contact feels orgasmic. Hearing soft vibrations in the air before you feel it. Swirling galaxies. My thoughts are consumed by you nowadays, but I’m OK with that.

Pisces Mars

Altered states of consciousness. The bliss that comes when feeling wholly accepted. Complete adoration. Eyes locked. A desire to merge together. Skinny-dipping under the cloak of the night. Who cares if we get caught. No restrictions. A transcendent experience. Artistic nudes. A photo album on my phone. Dedicated to you. Boundaries teased. Biting my lip to control myself but failing. Kisses on the forehead. Reverence. I can morph into whoever you want me to. Kissing you, but my eyes are open. Moments of silence. Desires expressed without words. The sweetest dreams. Every time feels like a little death, only to be reborn again.  

| little thoughts about the mercury placements

| little thoughts about the venus placements

| little thoughts about the saturn placements

[hogwartsfirebolt]

Hello everyone! I’m back for my (omg time flies) third yearly drarry rec list, in which I share with you my 30 favorite drarry fics I read in the year, divided in three parts. What a year 2020 was. It was challenging, scary and confusing, and it was also an amazing reading year for me, I read so, so much more than I ever had before, and I’m really excited to share these masterpieces with you! The banner art is by @dragontamerdame who is one of my favorite artists and was kind enough to let me use this beautiful piece, which you can (and totally should) reblog right here. Now, with nothing else to add and in no particular order, here’s my

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2020 PART ONE

1. Who we are in the shadows - @quicksilvermaid - 100k - E - What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

THIS FIC!!! It was the first one I read in 2020, and it immediately became my favorite fic of the entire year, and one of my favorites of all time. I have since read it two more times, the entire 100k of it. There are absolutely no words to describe how amazing it is, how much it floored me to read their characterizations, their jobs and the roads life took them on to end up where they end up, the connection between them in a time when they don’t even know how to relate to anyone, their sorrow and struggles which, despite being so rooted in the magical world, are painfully human, just... wow. It’s a masterpiece. It changed the way I view their characters, forever, and I suspect I will read it many, many more times in the years to come. It’s that kind of story. If for whatever reason you haven’t read it, this is your sign to take that chance and embark on this amazing journey. 

2. Every Kingdom - @thistle-verse - 7k - E - Every kingdom needs a prince. Every prince needs a good and useful knight. Draco and Harry play their parts and renegotiate some borders while they’re at it.

So, so lovely. Even though I don’t read them very often, alternate universes fascinate me so much, and I am in awe of the author for being able to pack so, so much story, so neatly into 7k words. This features a princely, lonesome Draco, a charming, golden Harry, and a blossoming love that could change everything. It’s beautiful, and I recommend it deeply.

3. The Bucket List - GallaPlacidia - 32k - Draco will die in six months if he can't get Harry Potter to fall in love with him. Since that's not going to happen, he might as well spend his last days working through his Bucket List. Tap-dancing lessons? Rock climbing? Poetry-writing? Threesomes? Cocaine? Getting to know his adorable cousin, Teddy Lupin? Draco will try them all! Feat. Cheerily pessimistic Draco, devoted bitch queen Pansy Parkinson, and a Harry who can't help but notice that something seems DIFFERENT about Draco, these days.

I’m positive that many, many of us got acquainted with GallaPlacidia’s writing this year, and I, too, fell in love with it. This story aches in the most beautiful of ways, the humor happens to be somehow light in such a difficult circumstance that it ends up hurting when you laugh, it hurts when everything is right because it’s also wrong, it aches when it’s supposed to be a happy moment and feels tender and sweet when it’s not. I can’t even imagine the challenge of writing this kind of story, and they pulled it off beautifully. It’s a lovely story, one you will take with you long after you finish it, and, personally, I think it’s a great introduction to the author’s writing. 

4. halcyon days - @the-starryknight - 1.3k - T - Sleepy mornings caught while the sun rises are reserved for silly word games and soft touches and feelings.

Oh my god, the amount of tenderness in such a low wordcount made me weak in the knees. I almost couldn’t take it. Being able to convey such a deep emotional connection in a short story seems like such a daunting task, and the author makes it seem almost effortless. I guarantee that this will make you bring your hands to your chest and sigh with how lovely it is. Reading it will be the best ten minutes of your day. 

5. Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon - @drarrytrash - 37k - E - According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot. Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Reading this, I found myself laughing out loud, nodding profusely with how freaking spot on the characterizations are. The dialogue is amazing, so hilarious and real and Harry’s inner monologue is so, so him. I love everything about this story. I have a soft spot for werewolf fic, and this one hit everything I love about it, the case is interesting and engaging, the incidental characters, the OCs, Ron and Hermione, everyone and everything is absolutely perfect and I had an absolute blast reading it. You HAVE to read this and see for yourself what I’m talking about. 

6. Sex Ed for Aurors - curiouslyfic - 8k - M - Some things, you need to learn on the job.

Oh my god this is so freaking good. The premise is, basically, that Harry is accidentally doused with a lust potion while in the vicinity of Draco, and suddenly wants him more than anything. I loved this take on that trope, we’re in Harry’s head, and it’s absolutely hilarious and endearing to experience the near childish glee he feels whenever Draco looks his way, when he smiles, when he feels he’s made him happy, meanwhile Draco and Ron are horrified and doing whatever they can to correct it. This is so funny and such a good time, I can’t recommend it enough! While you’re at it, you should definitely read megyal’s remix of this, which is also a blast. 

7. plasticine porters with looking-glass ties - @bonesliketambourines - 15K - E - Lately, Harry thinks things don’t seem the same between him and Draco. His head is in the clouds when he thinks about what their relationship is now, and where it might be headed—he’s happy with their friendship, but he wants something else. A potions accident over a lunchtime visit to Draco’s lab (what does he get up to in there, anyway?) changes things, though, and accelerates their relationship faster than either of them had ever expected. How are they going to get through this new development together?

Atmospheric, beautifully-written and delicious. Their relationship is tender, just on the edge of something more, when they’re forced to quarantine together and face the effects of a potion that makes them see and feel things differently, which makes for the most intense, visual, gorgeous sex scene I think I’ve ever read. It’s just absolutely phenomenal. 

8. i wake up falling - warmfoothills - 9k - M - Draco’s always leaving, one way or another. Harry’s usually 240 thousand miles too late.

In trying to come up with a way to summarize this story, I’m feeling the overwhelming urge to cry again, just like I did when I read it. It’s just so, so, beautiful, every single word of it aches in the best way, the longing feels deeply authentic and just, the setting and the jobs and everything is so unique and gorgeous. Every single work by this author is beyond beautiful, but especially this one is incredibly close to my heart and I think everyone should read it. It’s a gem. 

9. In Every Universe - @skeptiquewrites - 27k - M - They sent Professor Harry Potter to search for Unspeakable Draco Malfoy. Draco has stolen a Firebird, an experimental magical device from the Department of Mysteries that lets you enter parallel universes as yourself. As Harry traverses from universe to universe, he begins to think Draco might be the one searching for him. A story about whether knowing what's possible makes it possible.

Stories where the characters find themselves somehow hopping from one reality to another are always so, so fascinating to me, and this one is incredibly creative and well-written, so entertaining all around. The mystery of it kept me on my toes, and every single reality was a joy to read. 10/10

10. Life goes not backward - @shealwaysreads - 8k - T - Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots. Leaving one life behind isn’t always a sacrifice, and sometimes the greatest good comes from embracing the people you love.

My god, there are not enough words to describe how much this story means to me, how beautiful it is, how every single time I’ve read it, I’ve cried. Bella has undoubtedly become one of my absolute favorite writers in fandom. She has such a way with words, there is not one of her stories that hasn’t touched me, that doesn’t feel like an actual, full-length novel no matter the word count. I read so many of them this year, so many of the masterpieces she’s gifted us, but this one especially is so tender, so dear, that I ended up choosing it as my favorite of hers this year. Harry’s charactertization, the unbelievable warmth of their relationship, absolutely everything about this is gorgeous. Go read it, right now, and then binge all her other works!! You won’t regret it.

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

Each of these fics is incredibly close to my heart and I enjoyed them immensely. In the midst of everything changing, I really found comfort and solace in the amazing works of the people of this fandom. I hope they give you the same amount of warmth and comfort they gave me, and I’m ALWAYS here to gush about any of them ❤️ Happy New Year!