#i only procrastinated watching it because i was afraid it would bring me to tears

[chocoberryflavored]

well. now i can remove shiguang from this list because i finally watched link click 😆

when you start to like and suffer for a shipp without actually consuming the original work it comes from 🙂

[possibilistfanfiction]

legitimately fuckin obsessed with the avatrice football au my dude. that last snippet brought me pure JOY im tellin you what

[well here's some ava pov while i procrastinate ch3 plot lol, s/o to @unicyclehippo for the worst/best gay pun of all time, love u. honestly this is long enough to put on ao3 so ... i'll do that in a footy au series i suppose for context... justice for chanel lol]

///

waking up from your first surgery is a blur, mostly an inexplicable terror when you can’t feel your legs, when you can barely move your fingers. tears leak from your eyes and you can’t wipe them, can only let them roll down into your temples. but then there’s a hand in yours, and chanel’s comforting touch, her voice soft.

‘it’ll be okay, ava,’ she says.

it won’t be okay, you’re certain of it, because you’d been taken straight from the field to the hospital, and then right into surgery, your kit cut off so that they didn’t move your spine more than you already had. you love football; you love football, the feeling of being so at home in your body, the feeling of going fast and the delight of the burn in your muscles, of not being afraid of anything.

‘i’m really scared.’ you look at chanel, showered and gorgeous, in a team issued bomber that seems impossibly elegant, even now. 

‘yeah,’ she grants, swipes her thumb against your cheeks and into your hair, catching your tears. she grabs a tissue and wipes your nose, which, from anyone else, would be absolutely horrifying, but she does it with so little fanfare and you’re in pain and also not pain — the worse option — you can’t even really care. she’s your favorite teammate: kind and brave and funny. she’s your friend. ’you’re gonna get through this, though.’

‘i don’t — i don’t want to.’

you don’t even quite know what you mean, still out of it because of pain meds and anesthesia, but chanel sighs gently.

‘you will. one day, you will.’

/

you don’t, not for a long time. after your fifth surgery you kind of tell yourself that you’ve definitely given up on football; they move you to a long-term rehab facility specifically for spine injuries, which is better than the hospital for sure, but it’s still hours and hours of physical and occupational therapy that leaves you feeling discouraged more often that not. once the inflammation starts to go down in your spine, you start to, at least, regain some function in your arms and hands, and after your sixth surgery, things are, you’ll admit, more hopeful. at the very least, you’ll be able to do things like use a manual chair and cook and type emails. 

you’re not great at texting yet; your occupational therapist is always telling you that if you worked on writing, and holding cutlery, and even more boring, pointless shit like pick up sticks, you’d have an easier time, but, whatever, you can type with the pointer finger of your right hand and it gets the job done. chanel visits as often as she can, most days in the late morning, which feels particularly generous in the off season when she could be being glamorous somewhere else, probably invited to paris fashion week or something. she brings makeup — expensive, beautiful makeup — and doesn’t seem to care when you clumsily fuck up lipstick or poke your eye with a mascara wand. you know she brings it so you actually do your occupational therapy exercises, but she also brings you changes of comfortable clothes and washes your hair gently every few days. she lies back in bed with you, long limbed and beautiful, and watches matches when you don’t feel too sad. 

a few days after your eighth surgery, your last, according to your neurosurgeon, you wear a giant back brace over your beatrice xin jersey, your favorite player to watch, and your physical therapy team gets you strapped into this harness that connects to the ceiling so you can try to walk on the treadmill and for sure won’t fall. it kind of feels like you’re doing a stunt or something, and chanel stands there and indulges you with a smile while you make all of your best ‘strapped into a harness’ jokes.

and then — you do walk. it’s slow going, the treadmill barely moving, and your legs feel sluggish and so weak and almost not like your own. it’s been two months since you took a step and it feels like a fucking miracle. chanel wipes a tear or two from her own eyes, even though you can only walk for five minutes and are sweating kind of profusely — it’s a fucking miracle, and she understands it too. 

/

‘what are you frowning at?’

she rolls her eyes and pockets her phone, easily pedaling with insane resistance on the peleton next to you while you struggle to get your legs to listen to your brain and pedal at all. ‘idiot bros on twitter. “trans women don’t belong in women’s sports” and all that bullshit.’

you stop trying to pedal because you’re already entirely unsuccessful today and now you’re not able to focus at all. ‘fuck them.’

she grins. ‘yeah.’

‘i’ll beat them up, just you watch.’

it makes her laugh, and you think she knows you really would physically get into a fight — on or off the field — if anyone ever said anything to her. 

‘plus, i can take you 1v1.’

‘in your dreams, silva.’

‘i’m going to, again. don’t even think i won’t.’

chanel pats your hand; you feel it all. ‘i’ve always known you could do it. i’ve never thought you wouldn’t, ava.’

you duck your head, unused to genuine praise after all this time stuck in the same boring, discouraging, painful rooms at the spine center, even though all of your doctors and nurses and therapists had been nice.

‘but,’ she says, ‘first you gotta pedal on this bike.’

‘it’s hard,’ you whine.

‘you’re just distracted.’

you look at the game you’d turned on, beatrice xin currently with two goals and two assists, and sigh. ‘i’m horny.’

it gets the biggest, best laugh out of chanel, and you feel a little something like pride bloom in your chest: you love making people you care about laugh. 

‘fine, fine,’ you grumble. you look down at your feet, your quads and calves so small and pale compared to six months ago; you try to breathe through the immediate fear and the tiny bit of shame that pops up. but you focus, feel your feet firmly on the pedals, think about how you know how to ride a bike; you know how to stand up straight and put on pants and kick a ball. the back brace you have on feels tight, feels restricting — but you focus on activating your quads, then your hamstrings, and you eventually get the pedals to move.

‘hell yeah,’ chanel says.

‘if you try to give me a high five right now i think i’ll get all scrambled if i try to move my hand.’

she laughs, reaches over and pats the top of your head instead. 

/

‘ava silva,’ chanel says, and you grin; you can’t help it. she holds her phone at a, thankfully, flattering angle as you walk along the beach — slowly, but steady: you trust you won’t fall, that you’re strong enough and getting stronger. ‘what does freedom feel like?’

chanel has like… three million followers, and she loves social media, something that your old club has always been thrilled about. they hadn’t renewed your contract, but you’d understood; they’re still paying for all of your medical care, so you don’t really feel upset, just a sense of loss you’re not quite ready to name. but chanel loves you, and she’s so, so happy for you — even if you never play again, you’re walking and even starting to run now; you’re in pain but it’s manageable. it’s okay.

‘it feels —‘ euphoric; devastating — ‘like a miracle.’

/

you flop down on chanel’s neatly made and extravagent bed; you’ve been staying in her guest room — which she had turned into her closet, so it’s still kind of packed with all of her beautiful clothes, although there is a very expensive bed for you — and training until, hopefully, you can get signed somewhere. she doesn’t even look up from her ipad when you sigh. ‘hello, ava.’

‘i have a favor to ask that i actually think you’ll be interested in.’

she pauses whatever she’s doing, then looks up. ‘i’m listening.’

‘well! okay, so. as you know, i’ve basically only worn hospital gowns and sweats for the last year and a half, and before that, i was, like, a child.’

chanel perks up, and you can practically see the wheels in her head turning already.

‘and now, wherever i get signed, you know, people are gonna care, and want interviews and all this stuff. so, in small part, i want to feel good about how i look for this next chapter of football.’

‘i love it,’ she says. ‘and what’s the large part?’

you flop back again, just for the dramatics. ‘i am… so horny. like, you don’t even understand.’

she laughs. ‘JC is nice though, right?’

‘yeah,’ you say, because he is. ‘but, like, girls.’

she pauses for a second, a happy smile on her face. ‘so, you want to look… more… bisexual?’

‘i mean, i do already? because i am? right?’

‘well, of course, ava.’ it’s gentle and reassuring but still a little amused.

‘but — yeah. like, i want to pick stuff i love, my clothes and my hair and whatever, gain back control, blah blah, everything my therapist is always going on about.’

‘your therapist is great, you love her.’

‘sure.’ she is; you do. ‘so anyway, i just — i guess i just want to feel like myself.’

‘now that,’ chanel says, ‘is a favor i love.’

/

‘you’re sure?’

‘it doesn’t matter if i’m sure,’ chanel says, sitting in the hairdresser’s chair next to yours. you have the salon to yourselves; she’d booked you a private appointment with her hairstylist immediately.

you turn to said stylist, dimitri, with their chic and very neat fade. ‘are you sure?’

‘like chanel said,’ they say. ‘it only matters what you want. we don’t have to do anything big.’

you look in the mirror; you hadn’t had the real opportunity to get a haircut in a long time, being in the hospital and rehab and then spending as much time as you could training after that. you haven’t, really, taken the time to deeply care for yourself, something your therapist has been bothering you about. you want, so badly, to live as big as you can. as much as you can. 

‘well, i’m sure, as long as you think it’ll, like, be good for my face shape or whatever.’

chanel and dimitri share a quick glance and then chanel rolls her eyes. ‘ava, you have to know that you’re beautiful, right?’

you pause for what you feel is an appropriate amount of time. ‘yes.’

‘but since you asked,’ dimitri says, ‘i do think this will be great for your face shape.’

‘alright,’ you say, feeling suddenly very excited and a little buoyed. ‘let’s fucking do it, then.’

chanel cheers and dimitri grins; they wash your hair gently, and you feel a little panicked until chanel starts talking about the threesome she had a few nights ago, which is delightful and grounding enough you stay, fairly easily, in the present of this beautiful, outrageously expensive salon, the control you get to have. not that you’re thrilled about your therapist being completely 100% correct, but… she was right. 

dimitri dries your hair and then combs it out patiently, divides it and then clips up the top part. ‘ready?’

‘definitely.’

chanel grins and it’s easy, so much easier than you knew it would be, to sit and watch yourself become. you’re filled with a sense of joy, this tiny seed that grows as dimitri cuts your hair to your chin precisely, and asks you about your plans for the day, and food you love, and chanel talks about her latest modeling contract — in addition to football, which amazes you in a way that makes you feel proud in the very center of your chest, this incredible person who showed up and helped take care of you. you feel your shoulders relax; you feel your feet firmly in the new sneakers converse had sent you, comfortable and cool; you even take time to feel your butt in the chair with the knowledge that you don’t need to do any pressure reliefs or weight shifts because, when dimitri is done, you’ll be able to stand up and walk and dance and run and even play football. and even if — even if — one day, you couldn’t, you have your friends and your teammates and your life.

‘you look hot, ava,’ chanel says, very genuinely, after dimitri finishes with a leave in, then shows you how to dry your hair and recommends a light oil. 

‘go ahead,’ they say, ‘run your hands through it, all that jazz.’

to touch; to feel. you think you might cry, all of a sudden, with your soft hair that you picked, that you wanted, and chanel takes in your wobbling bottom lip and then tuts and pulls you toward her. because of your height difference, your face is basically smooshed into her chest and, even though you do cry, you laugh too, wet and messy and alive.

‘this probably my favorite place in the world,’ you say.

chanel shoves you playfully and you grin up at her. 

‘thank you.’

she waves you off, as she always does when she’s a little overwhelmed too. ‘don’t thank me yet. now we have to go shopping.’

/

it’s not as bad as you’d feared; despite the fact that chanel only wears the most elegant designer clothes — her closet is full of gucci and bottega and, of course, chanel, and a whole shelf of louboutins — but she also loves you and knows you, deeply, and so when her driver pulls up to a row of a few very cool-looking thrift stores, you have to hug her again. she gives you helpful feedback on pieces and outfits and you feel, quite genuinely, happier than maybe you ever have. you buy crop tops and high waisted, loose jeans and a few sweaters you love; some silly earrings and a necklace and a cap that chanel laughs at, but fondly enough you know it works. you find a men’s button up with a bunch of flames on it and she rolls her eyes but you put it on anyway, knot it at your waist so it feels just above your shorts.

‘do i look bi?’

‘you look a little bit crazy, but i definitely wouldn’t think you’re straight.’

you’re practically shaking with excitement: ‘it’s… flaming. i’m flaming! get it!’

chanel groans. ‘ava,’ she says, but wraps an arm around your shoulders and throws it on the growing pile anyway.

/

you feel happier than maybe you ever have until the next morning, when you come back from a silly game of football on the beach with her and JC and a few of your other friends, your hair spilling out of the tiny bun you’d managed to get it into, which had made you laugh, and sit down to have some burrata — another one of your favorites that chanel indulges in getting for you from time to time, even did while you were in the hospital and she had to put it on little crackers and feed it to you herself — and then accept a call from your agent. you step inside to take it, close the door softly. 

after it’s done, you yank the door open this time, burst onto the patio. all of your nerves are alive; in your shorts, your legs look strong again, tan and muscular and capable.

‘good news?’

you’re almost too excited to explain that you’re getting signed by your favorite club, $6 million for the year, with, if all goes well, an option to extend your contract another season after. a bonus: they just hired dr. jillian salvius, one of the best sports specialists in the world. all of your care will be, of course, included.

chanel starts to cry, which makes you start to cry, and she hugs you to her tightly. 

‘i am so happy for you,’ she says. ‘and i’m really gonna miss you.’

‘i’m gonna miss you too,’ you tell her. 

she backs up and puts her hands on your shoulders, a smile sneaking up her face. ‘you know, i happen to remember your favorite player in the whole entire world playing at a certain club.’

you hadn’t really thought past football and then six million dollars, but — ‘fuck.’

chanel laughs, face beautiful and delicate and rich in the sun. ‘i can’t wait to show her pictures of you in her jersey.’

‘oh god, are there any on my instagram? i have to go check.’

she just keeps laughing, and it’s all brimming, so wonderful, right at your fingertips.

/

you sign a few days later, your hands steady.

/

‘well,’ chanel asks, lounging back in bed on zoom, ‘how was day one?’

‘oh my god.’ your hair is still wet from the shower you took at the training grounds; you had raced back to your new apartment to make sure you were on time for your call. ‘i got there early, to play a little bit, get the nerves out, you know. and guess who was there and wanted to play 1v1?’

she grins. ‘no fucking way.’

‘i got schooled, obviously,’ you say, think of the way beatrice xin had moved with the ball, how surely she went into tackles, how precise she was. ‘i did score twice, though, and nutmegged her once. greatest football moment of my life, i’m pretty sure.’

‘what’s she like?’

you think chanel is probably humoring you, but you don’t care. ‘beatrice is… beautiful.’ it’s really the only word you have: her neat bun that stayed in place perfectly other than a few errant strands by the end of the session today; her clipped, lovely accent; the way her calves had looked while she was sprinting; the delicate lines of her face; her freckles and her eyes; how she had been serious and professional but kind; her strong back, muscles rippling under her skin in a way that made you shiver, in the locker room when she had untucked her quarterzip and pulled it over her head; how she seemed lonely, despite it all. ‘she’s really beautiful.’

/

it’s a while later when the sheer mortification dawns on you, but then beatrice, in her weird, hot, hilarious way, seems to dissipate the extreme embarrassment you’re going to be faced with by being embarrassing first.

‘hello, chanel.’ she reaches out her hand very seriously, in her favorite linen jumpsuit and a very expensive pair of off-white dunks and black, cat eye sunglasses that are honestly cooler than you expected, in front of her favorite nice brunch place. chanel shoots you a glance and then shakes bea’s hand firmly while you both try not to laugh. 

‘hey, it’s great to meet you.’

‘you, as well,’ bea says. ‘i — before we sit, i just wanted to extend my admiration, for the work you have done both on and off the field for trans equity in our sport.’

it’s so serious, and so genuine, chanel seems a little disarmed and a little affected. ‘thank you.’

bea nods once, seriously. ‘and, maybe more importantly, even, my deep gratitude, for caring for ava. she’s spoken so highly of you, and it means — i love her,’ bea decides on, after a pause. ‘i’m glad, immeasurably so, that she has people who love her too.’

chanel suspiciously sniffles. ‘can i give you a hug? is that weird?’

bea smiles, a real smile, your favorite, and opens her arms. you resist the urge, passionately, to make a joke about how the two hottest (sorry, lilith) women you know together is really gonna do it for you during your alone time later, which is honestly a fucking feat.

‘well,’ chanel says, ‘i made a presentation of every embarrassing thing ava has done that you should know about.’

‘oh no.’

bea loops her arm with chanel when she gallantly offers, and bea says, ‘oh yes.’ you trail behind them, feeling short and small and bursting with happiness. chanel orders basically the entire menu for you to try and she and bea laugh at your expense when chanel opens her phone and does, indeed, have an entire canva presentation of you being embarrassing, but you don’t really mind at all. the sun warms your shoulders and you drink champagne that costs way too much money, the bubbles bright on your tongue. chanel laughs and bea puts her hand on your thigh, just like that: you feel it all.

[muffindaddystyles]

Summary: Y/N's feeling icky about her body, but Harry loves her to bits and pieces, through thick and thin, in health and sick — and he always waits for her to come back to him.

TW: Body dysmorphia.

Y/N's healthy.

All she sucks in is having a sane sleeping schedule due to her UNI otherwise she eats natural goodies, cook and bake home because it comforts her more that way and she works out every evening to stay fit.

Sometimes though, she’s lazy and lacks behind which’s proper humane but deep down it effects her and her mental health more than she admits and she isn’t able to start over again – it mostly happens after her periods.

Harry loves her the way she’s.

Even if she’s clumsy, bumbling, procrastinating, overly enthusiastic to mend her life at 3 am, snotty and sloth-y in her periods, confident and positive around people, kind and loving whenever she comes to meet him, whiny and cuddly when she’s sick, jealous and grumpy with his attention not on her —- he loves her in every way possible, to rivers and to sea his love could never stutter for her ever.

He loves how she’s not overly toned, having soft squishy spots which Harry undeniably wants to admire and kiss shamelessly amount of times -- like -- her plummy pretty thighs that Harry likes to nestle his head in-between making her wriggle and squirm under his grasp, her overly cute tummy that Harry dies to pepper sweet adoring kisses and petal his lips round her belly button, everytime they’re cuddled up his bicep’s always looped her around her tummy to feel it rising up and down in calm rhythm, and oh! her tender titties, they’re actually his favourite babies and he loves to fondle them in his big calloused palms brushing his thumb over the sensitive perky nub and basks in the glittery whimpery mewls of hers.

He loves that she’s curvy and gives zero fucks if she’s skinny or not.

He thinks his baby’s perfect.

So perfect he actually feels the bubbling of devotion and affection filling to the brim of his heart’s chambers and leaking out and upon his ribs tickling him.

Y/N's his person and he worships her with his whole heart.

From some days though, she’s feeling devastatingly insecure about all her things Harry’s in love with and she has no-control over it how much she tries.

Harry’s observing that all with optimism (one of his great quality's that like a lion sly about his prey, he keeps an eye on everything but pretends otherwise). He has his intense gaze fixed on her when she’s taking a look of herself in the mirror for rather too long, running her hands down her body and practically shuddering.

He glances from over his laptop and drops everything he's doing watching her go monkies, sweating buckets and over exercising than her usual time.

He brings her closer and infront of him, pressing her to his chest and coiling his forearm around her shoulders whining a, “Baby..!” when they were brushing their teeth and despite of standing beside him and teasing him occasionally like she usually does she stuffs her face into the crest of his back and hides herself there to have minimal contact with her reflection in the mirror.

Her body dysmorphia spiking dangerously high.

“Deprived me of your cuddles. woke me up so early, granny.” She huffs lying through her teeth and how much his embrace was strong enough to keep her in place she still managed to wiggle out taking her previous cosy position, but he could feel her muscles tensing and an awkward silence falling over them.

He didn’t pry much. He wants to give her as much space as she requires to come back to him hale and hearty, as she always does and whatever happens he never forgets to remind her how much he loves her every night.

..

They were watching rom-coms on Netflix back to back with her curled up into his side with a spongy white wool knitted blanket thrown over them and his cheek was smashed atop her head popping in peanuts every now and then when out of certain she spoke pointing at the actress, “You know she got her ribs removed to get that shrinky waist.” Harry frowned at that. His face itching into disbelief and concern under the bouncing glow of telly.

He affixes his gaze down at her trying to read what’s cooking up in that genius brain of her's which isn’t being very rational and genius right now, they immediately turns soft and caring when she blinks up at him purely.

She squeaks, nose crashing against his collarbones when he scooches her up in his lap grabbing onto her knees to make her straddle his torso and he grumbles cutely when she tries not put all of her weight on him and doesn’t melts into him as his sweet lovie would used to do receiving a smack on her bum on his end.

He’s afraid that an evil version of her chomped onto his dear baby alive.

“Nothing else matters if all ye’ organs are packed safely and healthily inside you,” He tells her brushing loose frays of her hair behind her earlobe and rubs his thumb in gentle strokes over her treacly pulsing point, “Was just telling you ...” She mumbles, dotting touches on his knuckles and playing with his bare cold fingers.

It’s true, she was rambling out facts about the movie and cast out of habit because no-way she’d ever go through any surgeries to change herself to become someone she isn’t.

“Swear!” She yawps out in convincing high pitch when Harry squints down at her with his lips scrunched, one eye twitching in doing so.

“Alrighty. I believe you.” He cradles her cheeks in his palms and brings her mighty close to him to peck her cupid bow, then her bottom lip and the corners of her smiling mouth to suckle generous amount of whines from her and then kisses her lovingly – hands streaming down her spine and then resting atop her dip.

He thought she was ready to come back to him, to share her problem with him and Harry really wanted to bug in, to not let her fight her battle alone and take half of her hardships from her fretting self but guess not.

They were about to have sex when panic seeped in Y/N's eyes and her cheeks blazed up in that of embarrassment as she rushed to switch off the lamps that were the only source of light in their room.

“Moppet.” Harry sighed, knowing exactly what’s happening and she isn’t as foxy in covering it up as she’s thinking herself to be.

“Why wouldn’t y'want me t'see gorgeous self of yours?” His tone punctured and hurt, feeling useless for not knowing how to cheer her up and break her worries down. He smoothens his hands behind her to lock his arm around her waist, fingertips making grape sized indents into the flesh of her hip-bone as she streaks the tip of her nose up and down the crook of his neck, murmuring meekly against his salty skin while he hugs her warmly.

“’M just feelin’ shy.” He giggles at her response puckering his lips against her hairline to pet tiny, tiny kisses there as she fists her hands against his taught chest.

“Not somethin’ I haven’t seen before, love bug.” He blows raspberries against the underside of her jaw and their mouths meet into a messy, giggling, teeth clanking kiss when she sinks into pillows allowing him to cocoon her in his heat.

“I love you, Y/N. No matter what.”

.

The last dam breaker for them was this little get together at Sarah and Mitch's baby shower.

She matched her outfit with Harry. Cute lavender coloured little sweater blouse that was familiar to the baggy baby yarn cardigan Harry was wearing, it accentuated her curves and her bosom so prettily -- her midriff peeking from where the buttons weren’t closed and their jeans were painted (they did it themselves one Sunday when it was extra boring and inactive).

Y/N felt uncomfortable in her own clothes. A bitterness spreading inside her for herself and all she wanted was to escape away from her own skin.

She knows she’s loved and welcomed and cherished by her friends and family and the love of her life, most importantly. Then why was she feeling so icky about herself? Why everything's draining her and exhausting her?

Harry obviously could see through the gloomy tenebrous energy overshadowing her as he stood in the corner of the room grabbing the sorbet he poured in two glasses for them.

A sour guzzle of tears choking his throat and his limbs weakening letting the painful heartbreak seep into him when he watches her being fidgety and fiddling with the loops of her jeans, tugging her blouse every passing second and he’s sniffling a hiccup deep in his lungs when she shrinks into herself in dejection staring out of the window without any purpose.

Harry feels awful to startle her when he plops down beside her, coodling her closer to himself and tucks her head beneath his chin subtly and cups his palm under her jaw to make her look in eyes his eyes.

“Hi beautiful,” His tone had a saddening waver in it and his irises mossed bleak when Y/N remains unresponsive, zoning in and out of her own head feeling herself prisoned into her own invasive thoughts.

“You w'na go home darling?” He gives her a wet smile clearing his throat and blinking the stubborn moisture in his eyes away when Y/N nodded without any vivid expression.

All the way back home he denounced himself of not making her feel loved enough, to not to pest her soon about what she’s feeling and letting her slide deeper into the dark hole.

He thinks he’s a piece of shit.

.

Y/N wanted to dig the earth with her own nails and hide into it and never show her face again, she was overly ashamed of herself.

His hand was holding onto hers tightly, never letting it go as he led them through the hallway and his head perked up in confusion when she stopped them abruptly and lunged to wrap herself around him like he’s the last silver of her hope and the reason to live.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” There comes the first sob after ages of suffering and bottling it all in, not shocked at all he was expecting it to happen. Gently he picks her up and wraps her legs around him, keeping his support firm under her bum as she cried into his soft white t-shirt.

Carefully he sits them on the edge of the bed and tries to pry her soaky flushed face in his cradle but she refuses to show him, clutching onto his cardigan and whimpering brokenly.

“I just feel so disgusting,” Her sob scratches out of her throat and for a second he thought he heard her wrong, that her feeble crying’s playing some kind of a sick game with his heart.

“Harry do something I don’t want to feel disgusting.” But, when she pleaded helplessly a cold shiver settled in his bone marrow spreading an agonising burn in his stomach.

Gently he stirs her away from his chest to look at her, meeting their foreheads together while his thumb wiped her tears away and smoothed over her wabbly lips in profound tenderness.

“My beloved,” He whispers fondling his nose against hers and her eyes flutters into realm of calms, shaky breath falling over his lips as he brings her trembling fingertips towards them and pecks them feverishly.

“The love of me life, me heart.” He continues, “Shhh. Shh baby ‘s okay to cry but don’t tire y'self.” He hushes her when she whimpers loudly at his coy affirmation.

“I’m here with you, waiting f'you, watching y’goin’ through a stony path so I could be there to hold you whenever you trip –-,” He pets her hair, cupping the back of her neck to plant his lips bitten red from worry to her puffy damp eyelids and Y/N becomes a gooey lax of candle that’s been burning for tiring amount and finally her lover came to blew the agonising flame away putting her to peace as he coos snuggling her in his cordial embrace, “You’ve been so strong to yourself and ‘m so proud of me baby.”

“I’m always here. Never away from you, always right by y'side.” His palms bending around her ribs to smush her as intimately close as possible.

“How d'ya want your huggies babylove?” He simpers down at her darlingly, huffing out in relief seeing her relaxing -- her shoulders sinking from him massaging the knots in them.

“Tight.” She mumbles timidly. The gleam in her glossy eyes returning when Harry hugs her as she wished, squishing her in right places and not suffocating her at all – their breaths in sync chests flushed against eachother.

“I love you cuddly, and care f’you.” He kisses her on lips then goes to hug her right back.

“I love you too, Har. Thank you.” She sniffs in his woodsy scent grazing her touch up and down his back, smooching a soft kiss at his cheek.

[daddyjackfrost]

Just a ✨suggestion✨ you know how Kuroo is like the master of provocation and he motivates people by getting under his skin? (The way he did with Tsukki)

I feel like he’d do that with his s/o too! However, not everyone responds well to that (I know I wouldn’t💀) so like I can see him going about his normal way and his s/o bottling it up until one day they couldn’t take it, and when he finds out Kuroo is DEVESTATED like wow he pushed his own s/o to their limits :(

jansjs yes. just yes.

Kuroo would definitely 100% to this, but not with the intentions to hurt you. it’s just his nature yk? he’s always been able to pick people apart until he can press their buttons just the way he wants.

i think it would start slowly. you wouldn’t actually realize Kuroo was provoking you until you stared thinking about his words late at night. Until you started watching yourself around him a bit more, afraid he’d say something that had you silently fuming in anger or self hatred.

—————

it was thursday night, and you were so angry you had put off all your work till the last minute. You had a giant writing assignment due tomorrow morning, and you hadn’t even begun.

Kuroo was out with Bokuto and as much as you wanted your boyfriend to cuddle you and pester you with love, a small part of you was glad he was away.

Last night, you had asked Kuroo for some help with chemistry, and usually, he would be ecstatic to be able to help you, but not last night.

“Kuroo, can you help me with this?”

Kuroo pushed himself off the sofa, walking up behind you to lean over your shoulder. His hazel eyes skimmed the questions you we’re having difficulty with and he let out a small teasing laugh.

“Oh come on, y/n. You study so hard and want to do all these big things and yet you can’t solve these problems?”

You wiped your sweaty hands on your leggings. You were already struggling and having Kuroo demeaning you was not helping.

You sighed and threw him a small smile. “You’re right. I’ll do it on my own.”

Kuroo just nodded and patted your head. “See? You can do anything you put your mind too.”

You just let out a small laugh, not believing him for a second.

You hear the door open and you grip your glass of water tighter. You wanted to talk to Kuroo. You needed to tell him you didn’t appreciate his provoking ways, and that if he wanted to motivate you, he should find better ways. It wasn’t healthy for you to actually be anxious when he was around, but recently, Kuroo had been a bit more demeaning and a bit more scheming.

“Y/n~” came Kuroo’s voice. “I’m home.”

“In here!”

After a couple seconds, Kuroo walked into your living room. His eyes landed on figure, sitting on the sofa with your laptops on your thighs.

“What’re you doing, babe?”

You groaned and tilted your head back to rest of the sofa. “I’ve been trying to write for the past two hours.”

Kuroo frowned and moved closer to you. “Why did you put this off till last minute, y/n?”

You closed your eyes and muttered a few profanities under your breath. “I don’t know, tetso.”

You prayed Kuroo would just smile at you, maybe tell you that it would be okay. That you would finish it and that he believed in you.

But no, that’s not Kuroo.

Because Kuroo’s never been one to gently motivate, or to praise. Unless it was in bed, but even then, it was rare.

Kuroo tsked, and your eyes shot open. You knew a jab from Kuroo was coming, and you hated it.

“You always do this, y/n. You always procrastinate and then complain. Don’t you want to be better? Do you really want y/f/n to exceed you?”

Tears sprung to your eyes. You knew he was right, he was always right, but you didn’t want to hear that. You didn’t want to hear about how terrible you are with time management, and how you always procrastinate.

You wanted to be angry at Kuroo, hell, you were angry at Kuroo, but the logical part of you always made it difficult. You had been friends with Kuroo since you were younger. You knew of his nature, of her personality, but it’s like the small wall Kuroo had made to not hurt you had broken. You knew it wasn’t intentional, but that didn’t hurt any less.

You abruptly stood up, slamming your laptop closed.

Kuroo’s eyes widened and he took a small step back.

“Kitten?”

You shook your head. “I’m gonna go finish this upstairs. There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.” And with that, you walked away.

Hours later, when Kuroo made his way to your shared bedroom, he hoped you were done and awake. He had barely seen you today and he wanted to sleep with you in his arms.

Kuroo was smug. He was glad he was able to motivate you and get you working on your assignment.

Pushing the door open, Kuroo’s eyes landed on your slouched figure against the bed. Your laptop was shut and your eyes were tightly closed.

Kuroo felt his eyes soften. He loved seeing you asleep, it was the only time you were truly ever at peace. Except, when Kuroo walked closer to you, ready to lay you down properly, he noticed the tightness of your eyes, and the small frown on your lips.

Kuroo just brushed it away.

It’s just stress, he thought.

When you woke up, you were greeted with Kuroo’s sleeping figure. His black hair was swept across the pillow and his eyes were shut. You could feel his arm wrapped around you and you smiled.

You let yourself enjoy a few more moments, but then you slipped out of bed and started your morning routine. You were going to talk to Kuroo today. You didn’t know how much longer you could withstand his harsh words.

Kuroo found you in the kitchen. Your back to him as you flipped some pancakes.

You slightly jumped when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist.

“Morning, love.” Kuroo’s husky morning voice greeted you.

You squeezed his hand. “Morning.”

“You finish your paper last night?”

You nodded, flipping the pancake. “Yeah.”

Kuroo kissed the back of your head. “See? I knew you could do it.”

You mumbled a small yeah, and pushed Kuroo away from you. “Set the table, Tetso.”

Kuroo nodded and picked up two plates from the cupboard. He grabbed two knifes and forks and put them on the table. You brought the plate of pancakes and sat down.

You both began to quietly eat. Kuroo didn’t think much of the silence. He knew you weren’t really a morning person and didn’t appreciate a lot of talking so early in the morning.

You, however, were a nervous mess. Throughout your shower and up until Kuroo had hugged you, you were thinking of ways to bring up the issue.

You put down your fork and knife, clearing your throat.

Kuroo looked up at you, his mouth full of pancake.

A small smile made its way to your face. He looked so cute like this, with his cheeks all puffed out.

“I-uh,” your palms began to sweat and you wiped them on your sweatpants.

“Y/n?”

You slightly shook your head, trying to shake off the nervousness. This was Kuroo, you thought. Your boyfriend of four years. You shouldn’t be nervous.

“I wanted to—uh— talk to you about something.”

Kuroo nodded, and put down his fork and knife. All of his attention was on you.

When you didn’t speak right away, Kuroo’s lips lifted into a teasing smirk. “Cat got your tongue?”

Turns out this was the one time you were glad he had provoked you.

You slammed your hands on the table, causing Kuroo to instantly drop his smirk.

“That!” You yelled, pointing at him. “That needs to stop!”

Kuroo’s eyes widened in confusion. “...what?”

All the dismissal and all the logic had left your brain. You were angry at Kuroo, and the fact that he chose to poke fun at you while you wanted to talk to him made you all the more angerier.

“You always do this Tetsoru! I’m sick of you constantly trying to provoke me! It hurts! I know you mean well, but your words hurt me, and i’m sick of it!”

Kuroo’s eyes widen in surprise. When he fully processes your words, his lips tug into a frown and a whirlpool of emotions start rising in him.

Kuroo noticed your flushed cheeks, the few tears that had gathered in your eyes, and his heart broke.

He did that.

He hurt you.

He’s been hurting you.

“I know you do this to everyone, but I’m not everyone! You’re not on the court anymore! You don’t need to be sly or calculating with me.”

Every word of yours pierced his heart.

Kuroo knew he had a tendency to just try and get under everyone’s skin. It became a habit. However, Kuroo didn’t know he was hurting you.

“I love you Kuroo, but please, please take my feelings into consideration. Times when I need your reassurance or praise, you just end up hurting me.”

A couple angry tears had escaped your eyes, falling down your cheek. You felt so relieved to get all of this off your chest.

When your eyes met Kuroo’s, your eyes widened. There were tears in his eyes. His eyes were wide, and his hands were shaking.

You quickly slid off your chair and walked to Kuroo’s side, sitting on the edge of the table.

Kuroo’s heart hurt. He couldn’t believe he had hurt you like this. You were the one person he never wanted to hurt. You were the one person who Kuroo loved more than anything, and the realization that he had hurt you, killed him.

Kuroo lifted his head and his teary eyes met yours.

“I am so sorry, y/n.”

Your lips slightly parted in surprise. Kuroo had never been this open and vulnerable with you.

“I—” Kuroo let out a small breath.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about your feelings. Please, y/n, please forgive me.”

Kuroo’s lips trembled.

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. You were glad that Kuroo realized his words had hurt you, but you didn’t want to see him hurt.

“I promise I’ll be better. I promise I’ll work on it.”

You nodded softly at him. “I know, Tetso.”

You pried Kuroo’s arms apart and slid onto his lap. Your legs were on either side of him. Kuroo didn’t dare touch you. His arms were limp beside him.

You brought your hands to his cheeks, slowly brushing his cheekbones.

“Please don’t leave me,” Kuroo mumbled.

You tilted your head closer to his face, softly kissing his lips.

“I’m not leaving you, not over this.”

————————-

PLS WHAT IS THIS

anyways, i hope you like it! I wrote this during accounting so 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

daddyjackfrost © 2021 | all content belongs to me, do not modify

[dinosaurtsukki]

[ wedding gifts | feat. akaashi keiji ]

pairing: akaashi keiji x f!reader

word count: 1.3k words

contains: um, angst, jumps in between memories

a/n: wanted to use the whole wedding gift saying (something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue) thing as a prompt. /might/ make this into a series thing but depends how i feel abt it haha

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

I. something old

the candy ring pop that akaashi gave you when you were twelve. the lollipop had already been eaten, of course, but you still kept the green, plastic ring piece. sometimes you take it out of where you keep it on your nightstand drawer and fit it over your ring finger.

“i’ll marry you when we get older!” you remember akaashi promising you, right before slipping the ring pop on your finger. you were probably ten years-old back then. akaashi was still in his ‘dragons phase’ and carried one of his favorite books with him to school. he still barely knew how to tie his shoelaces but you never minded squatting down to tie them for him.

neither of you really understand what it means to be married. as far as you know, it just means spending time together and living in the same house. of course, you nod your head and agree. akaashi giggles before going on about how you’ll be wearing matching pajamas until you’re both older.

the lollipop dyes your tongue red and you could see it sticking out between your lips in the bathroom mirror while you rinse off the ring piece. you usually throw these away after eating them but this was different. ‘akaashi gave it, so i have to keep it’, you reason with yourself, shaking the piece of plastic dry.

you and akaashi are much older now and even though he’s grown out of his dragon phase, you still gift him a little dragon keychain that he still keeps on his bag. he probably doesn’t know that you’ve kept the ring until now, nor the fact that your hands would touch his for a moment too long.

‘does he remember?’ you wonder, gazing down at the ring on your finger. it would be kind of stupid if he does, even more so for you to hold onto it.

II. something new

the spare key to akaashi’s new apartment. he’s too cautious to leave it under the doormat to his house, saying that ‘everyone knows that’s where to keep the spare key by now’. so instead, he gives it to you. after all, you live near enough to his place. after all, you would always come if he needed you for anything.

and yet, akaashi never accidentally locks himself out of his house or loses his key. but you keep it anyway because akaashi’s apartment for you to come and go as you please. you cook too much pasta for one person but enough for two so akaashi always has extra noodles in his cupboard.

“guess what that guy in my class did today?” “i accidentally got my wrong coffee order.” despite how long you two have known each other, conversations never run stale. you feel like akaashi’s couch has begun to have a dent in the cushions because you always sit there.

and yet, you can’t bring yourself to talk about what’s been weighing on your mind for the past few years. afraid because you don’t want to accidentally create an ocean between the two of you and yet not content with the unnamed boundary between the two of you.

so you content yourself with the extra key hanging from your chain, with the extra noodle in the cupboard, with the comfortable dent in the sofa that’s been molded in the shape of you. you tell yourself that maybe someday, these would no longer be extras but normal parts of the life you and akaashi share.

that is, until he says the thing you’ve been dreading most to here. “i think i met someone,” akaashi says, almost shyly. his fingers are splayed across the rim of his mug his gaze focused at the window. another conversation stems from that, but one that you have trouble listening to as you feel the key burning a hole in your pocket.

III. something borrowed

akaashi’s volleyball team jacket from way back in high school. you can’t help but stare at the way it fits around her shoulders perfectly when akaashi drapes it on her. as much as you want to, it’s difficult to hate her. not when you see how much she makes akaashi happy. 

you make akaashi happy too, just not in the way she does. but he never neglects you, never cancels out on the plans you two have made together, never leaves you waiting outside his apartment door. it would have been easier if akaashi would ignore you or if the girl he was dating was a terrible person. you’re left swinging between joy for the two of them, and sadness to your self.

“you and akaashi sure have known each other for a long time,” she says. your eyes linger on the jacket around her shoulders and how her arm is partially resting on akaashi’s.

“we’ve practically known each other since we were in daycare,” akaashi smiles softly at you. “hey, remember that time we met? when you pushed me off the swings in the playground?” 

you can’t help but laugh at the memory as you recount your version of the story. in the back of your mind, you think of the green plastic ring in your nightstand drawer and the ache in your chest grows. 

you lean your forehead against the car window when he drives you home, admiring how the yellow streetlights give akaashi’s skin a bronze tint, the way his dark brown hair curls in all the right places. he’s chewing his lip, meaning that he’s worrying about another deadline and you wonder if it’s alright for you to give his wrist a gentle squeeze now. 

“thanks again for coming,” he smiles when he walks you to your apartment. you don’t want him to go just yet. you don’t want him to go at all. would the existing bond between you and akaashi be enough for him to consider you, his closest friend, at all?

“is something wrong, y/n?” he asks. you bite your lip, and finally say what you’ve been wanting to for the past few years.

IV. something blue

the bridesmaid’s dresses are the same shade of blue as akaashi’s tie. it’s one of the things you helped choose when wedding planning rolled around. it’s your favorite shade of blue, one that matches the irises arranged on each of the tables during the reception. everything in the wedding venue is picture-perfect and you can’t help but take mental snapshots to remember forever.

if only it was for you.

like the decorations and the flower arrangements, you’re dressed in blue from head to toe, fixing a smile on your face as you watch akaashi’s bride-to-be walk down the aisle in her white gown. even though you’ve prepared for this day for months, years even because you knew deep in your heart that akaashi would ask her eventually, you still can’t stop the tears from escaping from the corners of your eyes. 

and as much as it would pain you, your eyes finally land on the expression on akaashi’s face. the smile there could only mean that he’s feeling a happiness that’s beyond words. 

the rest of the ceremony goes well, even with you pausing to dab at the corner of your eyes. everyone assumes that you’re crying from happiness for your best friend.

of course, you deliver a speech to the newlyweds, one that took you weeks to write with more than a few crumpled up drafts ending up in the trash bin. it’s so easy for you to recall things like when they first met, how cute they were during those first few months of dating, how you knew deep down that they would stay together for a long time.

you and akaashi lock eyes and there’s a small, sad smile on his face. you try not to think about the green, plastic ring that you had just thrown away, or the apartment key that you could no longer used after akaashi moved out, or the fact that you haven’t seen his old volleyball jacket in so long.

at the end of the reception, akaashi offers to wait with you outside while you hail a taxi home. before entering the car, he touches your wrist for a few seconds, eyes locking with yours.

“thank you for the wedding gift.”

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂ 

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist):@montys-chaos​ @miyumtwins​ @strawberriimilkshake​ @pocubo​ @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan​ @therainroguefanfiction​ @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh​ @charliefredb​ @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love @waitforitillwritemywayout @kattykurr @atsumusdomain​ @goodfoodxoxoxo​ @ah-kaashi​ @guardianangelswings @definitely-yours @amberalisa @whootwhoot​ @liz-multifandom-hotel @kac-chowsballs​ @procrastination-lady

[sleepyimpala]

distant

FANDOM: knives out. PAIRING: jacob thrombey x reader. GENRE: angst. WARNINGS: mentions of suicide. REQUESTED: yes. FROM MY OLD BLOG: phenomenally-thrombey. REQUESTS FOR KNIVES OUT ARE CLOSED.

For @taradenbrough12 who asked, I’m really fine with any idea. Can it be in Jacob’s house please?

A/N: So I’ve been procrastinating a LOT. I’m really sorry about that, but I hope you like it!!!

You were a distant family friend of the Thrombeys.

Your family, the L/Ns, were helping Jacob’s parents, Walt and Donna out with a case about the publishing company.

You’d asked your mom to bring you along because the last time you and Jacob were together you had the best time in the world.

However, ever since the two of you got older, you seemed to grow apart.

A few years ago you moved house and got other friends but now you were back, and you were overjoyed to be moving into your old house.

Little did you know that Jacob, unlike you, had changed very much.

Of course, Jacob’s cousin, Meg, had warned you of this, phoning you and saying she was happy you were back, but also that Jacob was now an alt-right troll and dipshit, sorry to disappoint yourself.

You highly doubted her, going to the Thrombey’s house in high spirits, the day before Harlan Thrombey’s birthday party, something which your family were invited to.

Today, however, he completely ignored you. All he did was scroll through his phone.

The only time he spoke to you was when he was forced to greet you by his parents.

Then he retreated to the fireplace.

Even when he hugged you forcefully it was different, as if he’s forgotten everything the two of you did together when you were kids.

He’d pushed you away from him so stiffly you were going to cry.

Apparently, his parents and your parents thought that nothing had changed.

Of course they didn’t, whenever your families were together they always spoke about some money related thing or something heartless like the government.

You were forced to get along. And you did. You were the best of friends.

But now, it was like you were invisible.

It was like losing contact with each other had created some sort of wall between the two of you - an iron wall which couldn’t be broken.

Your eyes dart to Jacob, near the fire place from your seat on the couch.

He didn’t even notice you, or bother to look up from his phone.

Your heart drops all the way down to your stomach in dismay.

You needed answers.

You missed him. The old him.

The Jacob that would read books with you and debate things and laugh when you fell down but always help you up but demand the two of you have matching sweaters each Christmas from Great Nana Thrombey.

The Jacob that cared for you and asked if you were ok when others didn’t and heard what you had to say.

The boy who knew all of your dark secrets and you knew all of his - yet he’d never tell a soul. Now, you weren’t so sure.

Where did that Jacob go?

You get up, not realising that you’d started crying, or that he was suddenly watching you, eyeing your every movement carefully, his eyebrows raised in - is that concern?

“Mom?” You say in a meek voice.

Your mother turns to look at you for a brief session as Walt and your dad talk about the publishing company.

“Yes, darling?” It was a brisk tone.

“Why is he so - why is he so different? Does he hate me? Did I do something wrong?”

“Why does who hate you, Y/N? Who’s so different? You didn’t do anything wrong,” she was distracted.

“Nothing. It’s OK,” you sigh softly and look down at the shiny polished floor.

You and Jacob were best friends… once.

You go and sit back down. Jacob hadn’t even glanced up from the device at all.

As you do, about to cry, shaking, your phone buzzes.

It was Meg.

MEG 🖤: u at the house yet?

Y/N: yeah. i didn’t think it was so -

MEG 🖤: ha! so bad? i TOLD you he was a dipshit, N/N.

Y/N: but i didn’t think it would be so bad! does he hate me?

MEG 🖤: nah, he’s just a dick. It probably comes with puberty. You’ll get over it.

Y/N: i don’t think so. i have to go. bye.

MEG 🖤: bye, good luck xo

You blink harshly and shut your phone off without bothering to close the app.

You look at him hopefully again. You wanted to scream at him.

Why would he leave you confused after do many years? You were happy to be back.

Really happy. But now you just wanted to go hime.

You totally regretted bothering to have any sort of idea or thought that he would even CARE about your absence and sudden return.

You get up, this time trembling, darting your eyes a third time to his posture.

He ignored you a third time.

That was it - that was all  it took for you to break.

You had no idea what you did to him that he would suddenly hate your guts - why couldn’t things be the same again?

“I’m - I’m going to the bathroom,” you announce in a shaky voice. “It’s down the hall, right?”

It wasn’t down the hall. You just needed to get out.

The adults didn’t even turn around.

You walk quickly, holding your head high, your whole body trembling as you clench your fists tightly, the nails digging into your palms thickly.

Deep enough to leave red marks.

Once you believe you’re out of earshot, you sob, choking back tears as a hand reaches to the door knob.

You just wanted to disappear.

That’s what you were afraid you were going to do, without him. Disappear.

Already, after you moved and lost contact, You entered a state of depression.

Sometimes it got so bad you wanted to hurt yourself but you didn’t.

Jacob, just his name, just the thought of him, kept you alive.

The feeling of his body and skin and the comforting sound of his voice kept you sane.

But now there was no reason to -

“Whatever you’re going to do, stop it.”

Your head whirls around. Angrily, you snap at him.

“Why should I listen to you? You’ve completely ignored me the entire day!”

Tears threaten at your eyes.

He blinks, flinching, his phone suddenly in his pocket.

He makes a swift move toward your clenched fist with his hand, you want to scream at him.

“FIRST YOU IGNORE ME AND NOW YOU WANT TO SAVE MY LIFE?! GET A GRIP, JACOB! WHY WOULD I - ”

“S - save - save your - ” he murmurs, his eyes suddenly a dangerous, dark firery black. “What?! Don’t you fucking DARE.”

“Cottoned on, have you?” You spit.

“Y/N, wait - ”

“ASSHOLE! You rejected me the entire day! You fucking asshole! You - you pushed me away when I tried to hug you - don’t deny it!”

He’s about to stutter something else out at you but you interrupt him quickly.

“You built a wall, Jacob! You put a fucking wall between us and suddenly you’re going to be protective and debate with me the stupid reasons why I shouldn’t kill myself? FUCK OFF!”

“Stop. Stop. You’re making this harder than it already is. Just - please - ”

He’s begging you now.

“I’M NOT LISTENING TO A SINGLE WORD THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR GOOD-FOR-NOTHING MOUTH BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN A TOTAL AND COMPLETE DICK TO ME, JACOB! YOU’VE BEEN A DICK! I MOVE BACK THINKING YOU’LL BE HAPPY BUT ALL YOU DO IS MAKE ME FEEL LIKE SHIT! YOU’RE A DICK! YOU’RE A DICK, JACOB THROMBEY! YOU’RE A FUCKING DICK!”

Now the tears fell. You don’t bother to hide them.

He stiffens. He reaches over but stops himself and you shake him off violently.

“I don’t know why you hate me,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I did. I’m sorry if it was because I moved, I- it wasnt my choice! Do you think I wanted to move?! Did you REALLY think I WANTED to leave you?!”

“Don’t be retarded,” he hisses. You blink and roll your eyes.

“You can’t stop me from killing - ”

“Yes I can.”

“No you can’t! You can’t, Jacob! Nothing you say will change ANYTHING that I’m going to do right now! Nothing!”

“Yes it will.”

“No it WON’T! Shut up! Just shut UP! You ignored me earlier today so why can’t you ignore me now and let me go on my MERRY FUCKING WAY?!”

“I’ll tell you why,” he says dangerously, his hand grabbing my arm. “If you just listen to me for once in your fucking life.”

“LET GO OF ME, ASSHOLE!”

“You’re not going to do it,” he says calmly, his voice so commanding it made you want to retreat.

“Oh yeah? Give me your WORST.”

“I’ll give you my best,” he says smugly, cocking his head.

“I fucking HATE that STUPID smug smirk,” you hiss.

“You used to like it,” he comments, smirking again.

“JUST SHUT UP!”

“Here’s why you’re not going to kill yourself,” he used the same calm tone which pissed you off to no end.

You spit at him and he flinches.

“I’m really not going to listen to you. I don’t see why I should - ”

“You should,” he starts confidently. “Because I’m about to do this,”

His lips collide with yours. A muffled angry gasp comes put of your mouth but all he does is give another cocky smirk.

Your eyes widen with hatred and loathing. That was one thing you didn’t see coming.

The kiss.

“I hate you,” you mutter. “I really fucking HATE you.”

He doesn’t give you time to breathe, sealing your lips with his once more.

This time it’s more passionate and less rushed. His arms are around your neck, he’s got you pressed tightly into the wall.

You can’t help but tangle your hands in his hair. He smirks again.

Finally he pulls apart.

“So?” He cocks his head. “Was I worth listening to in the end?”

“It still doesn’t explain why you were a dick,” you snap. He groans loudly. “But yeah, I guess.” You add.

“Look, I’m sorry about that, OK? I didn’t mean to. And I did pay attention to you. I was watching you. I saw it coming,”

“You’re a fucking creep, Jacob,” you mutter. “A Nazi and a fucking creep,”

“Maybe,”

“But you’re my creep,”

“That’s true. And you’re mine, and I promise I won’t hurt you any more,”

“Shut up, I know you’re not good at sentimental stuff.”

“You’re right.”

MASTERLIST (requests for jacob/knives out are closed)

[pretty-bratty]

Baby Can You See Through The Tears Teasers

I'm finally doing it.

Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who reads, loves, waits this fic and keeps up with my procrastinating ass. It truly means the world to me. Thank you all.

Special huge thank you to @dracula-incarnate who not only hyped me to post these teasers and to write in general, but also hypes and supports me in everything all the way, and also proof read everything as my beta. I wouldn't post them without you, thank you so much.

So, under the cut are the teasers - different bits of future chapters. At the beginning of each one there's a short explanation of the scene. The warnings are the usual for this fic, and it makes sense to read it only reading fic, but just in case: dom/sub stuff and the beginning of the punishment-spanking scene. Uh...I think it's all.

If you like it, it would mean so much if you let me know your thoughts.🌠 I'm nervous and really hope it lives up to your expectations, uhhh.

Baby Can You See Through The Tears Teasers

1. (The boys want to radio Eleven to calm Steve down over the fact that his blood got in the water at the end of the previous chapter): 

It takes Billy quite some time to find the walkie-talkie in the mess that Harrington turned his room into. The scolding he wants to give him is dancing on the tip of his tongue. He wonders if he's ever going to have a nice, relaxing, calm day with Harrington. And the most obvious answer leaves him unpleased. 

Steve stares at him with those baby deer eyes, full of fear and hope. Fear of the darkness, and hope that Billy is going to save him from all the monsters inhabiting it. And dammit if Billy isn't going to do exactly that.

"You think it's gonna work?" Harrington's whisper is barely audible in the thick silence of his room. 

Billy honestly has no idea, but Steve doesn't need to know that.

"Yeah. Of course it is, pretty boy." 

He still has no idea when he finally ends up finding the walkie - thrown on a chair in a tangled mess of jeans. Really, Steve? Billy kind of toys with the idea of radioing Max first; and he would, if it was a bit earlier. 

But the second he turns the walkie on, it comes to life with a calm and collected voice. 

"I am here." 

Billy jumps. Steve gasps, almost knocking the nightlight off the drawer. 

"How...what are you doing here, kid?" Billy cringes immediately. First, it's kind of a stupid question since he’s the one who originally was going to reach out. Secondly, he sounds exactly like the Chief. 

"You needed me." El's voice is clear and somber. Billy pictures her serious, concentrated face. Sometimes he feels like they have a lot in common; something deep down in the girl's eyes speaks to him in a language he feels only he can understand. "You needed me and I am here." 

2. (Just some atmospheric bits):

It's still warm, despite the pouring rain. They dragged the loungers under the porch awning and now sit there. Watching the streams of water falling everywhere. Watching it dance on the pool's surface. Playing the fastest drumbeat Billy's ever heard. He can't say he loves the rain.  Actually, he really doesn't like it at all; but this, today's rain… it brings some much needed peace to his soul. 

Harrington seems to appreciate it as well, considering how he hums contentedly, laying across the loungers, head in Billy's lap. He only stirs a few times, squirming, nose scrunched. Billy supposes it's because of his freshly spanked ass touching the lounger's hard surface. He chuckles under his breath at the thought, scratching the boy's head. 

Harrington looks up at him with big brown eyes that are red rimmed and tired, yet warm. Always so warm and comforting. He gives Billy a little content smile and lays back down, cheek pressed to Billy's thigh, skin on skin. 

Billy cards his fingers through this wild, absolutely lush mane of brown hair. And it suddenly shoots through him… this boy is his. Not just simply his. Not like he was Wheeler's - okay, Billy, better not think about it. No need to get angry - but in many, many more ways. 

Harrington trusts him unconditionally in everything. Absolutely everything. And Billy's has way more power, belonging, and responsibility than he has ever dared to have before. 

He cuddles the boy in closer to himself. His hold on him perhaps a bit too tight. His heart chattering wildly. Harrington looks up again; eyes a bit puzzled, questioning, but Billy gives him a calming smile and a gentle tug on his hair. 

(...)

The rain is soothing. Heavy streams drumming everywhere in the Harringtons' posh backyard. Making everything wet and fresh and transparent green. Somehow still so full of light. Like you're looking at the world through a green-glass bottle. 

"I was kinda afraid of swimming before that, y'know…" Harrington says suddenly, without moving. Billy doesn't see his face. "Before B… before B-Barb." 

He shivers when he says the name, and Billy holds him closer, frowning. 

"How come? I thought you loved splashing in the pool and all?" 

3. (Some Billy, Steve and Max snippet, at Steve's place): 

"Let's build a pillow fort!" Harrington throws all these gigantic pillows and blankets on the floor in front of TV. Almost knocking down some vase in the process; Billy's pretty sure it must cost a small fortune. Mrs. Harrington would be really grateful to Billy for catching it at the last moment. 

"Jeez," Max breathes out. "Pillow fort, ice cream and movies? Everyone else will lose their shit!"

"We won't tell them." Harrington frowns, apparently not wanting any of his gremlin gang to feel left out. Billy rolls his eyes so hard it hurts.

"Oh no," Max smirks. "We're definitely telling them!"

Billy snorts. Harrington looks between them, a smile playing on his lips.

"You two sure you're not blood related?"

4. (Same part, they're going to watch a movie, Billy told them no scary movies):

Max smirks.

"Let's put on a scary movie. Billy will want to know how it ends so he'll grumble but watch it."

Billy watches them quietly from the kitchen doorway. He's on his way back with their bowls of ice cream, and that's when he hears Max mentioning a horror movie. Now he's too curious about how Harrington’s going to act since he's not directly with him. 

Yesterday he'd definitely put it on, just to spite Billy. Let's see if today's lesson taught him anything.

The boy squirms in his spot, wide eyes darting around.

"But he told us not to. He'll be pissed."

Max just rolls her eyes.

"You realize he's not as scary as he thinks he is, right?

Billy gapes at the statement, because true - but excuse her! 

Steve's voice is low.

"Mmm- well, yeah. He's not, but..."

'...But his belt on my ass definitely is!' is clearly written across his face. Billy puts a hand over his mouth, juggling the bowls and trying not to snort out loud and blow his cover. 

Harrington bites his lower lip.

"But he specifically told us not to. I think it would be nice to listen to him, don't you, Max? And like, a comedy sounds pretty good to me right now."

Billy can just burst with pride for his boy.

Max rolls her eyes once more, but only for the sake of her reputation. Then she gets up and picks a comedy. Secretly, she's actually pretty excited about it. At least from what Billy can see. 

5. (Different bits for the spanking scene):

"Now, come here. And bring me that brush," Billy squints at the wooden hairbrush laying on Harrington's desk. 

"What?" The boy knits his brows together in confusion. "You gonna… brush my hair?"

"Oh darling," Billy chuckles darkly, shaking his head. He almost feels guilty due to Steve's innocent, obvious confusion. "No. I'm gonna make sure I ingrain the consequences of giving me attitude, like yesterday's little outburst, in your precious head."

(...)

Billy swirls the brush in his hand. It's pretty heavy. Wide too. He feels bad for the boy - well, almost.

"Sit."

He jerks his head in a curt nod, and Harrington sits near him nervously. Billy taps the brush on his palm, making a thud, and hears a quiet sharp inhale.

"I'm going to punish you now," Billy looks at Harrington closely, catching every little detail. How he licks his lips, throat working. How he squirms, big brown eyes watching Billy's every move. "You got my belt a couple of days ago, so it might be too soon for a second round on that lil' ass of yours." 

The boy's cheeks and ears were growing darker and darker shades of red.

"You deserve something harder than just my hand though. Acted like a total spoiled brat too; so s' pretty fitting, I guess. Dontcha, Stevie?"

Harrington just whimpers weakly, eyeing the brush in Billy's hands.

"I asked if you think it's fitting, Steve?" 

Billy let's some steel slip into his tone, and the boy shudders. 

"It's-it's gonna sting..." his voice is small, but he's still whining.

Such a brat. Billy growls.

"Yes, it is." He fixes Harrington with a stern look, slapping the brush on his own palm at the same time. "Your spankings are supposed to sting. It's a punishment. And you deserve a punishment, don't you?"

Billy's setting his jaw, asking for the last time. If the boy decides to keep being a brat, he can take the belt after a brush too. And apparently, Harrington senses it.

"I do." He whispers miserably. Glancing at Billy and correcting himself immediately, licking his lips and flushing more. "I do think I deserve this punishment, Billy."

Billy nods, spreading his legs wider and laying the brush on the bed next to him. 

"Get over my lap."

"What??" Harrington flushes red to the roots of his fluffy hair. "I...what...No! I'm not some fucking toddler!"

Billy flares his nostrils, breathing in and out. If Max ever dares to accuse him of lacking patience ever again, so help him...

"Could've fooled me." He speaks in a quiet, terrifying growl. "Acting exactly like one."

Harrington gulps.

"Up. Bend. Over my knee, ass in the air." Billy orders in a low voice, no room for discussion left. "Tell me 'No' one more time during the punishment, and see what happens, pretty boy."

Harrington inhales sharply and almost jumps up, legs wobbly. Then tiptoes around and finally lowers himself across Billy's lap; eyes squeezed shut, cheeks and ears tomato red.

Billy immediately manhandles him into position. Leaving one knee under Steve and hooking the other leg over the boy's thighs, holding him successfully in place. Gonna come in handy when Harrington starts squirming and trying to kick - and Billy already knows it's gonna happen. 

Billy looks down, sees Harrington's messy mop of brown hair. His hands nervously fidgeting on the floor. Billy yanks his shorts down rather harshly, and there's a gasp, followed by a little, scared whimper.

"Gonna squirm again, huh?" Billy bounces his knee a bit.

"Uh...y-yeah," a quiet, honest, reply from Steve surprises him.

Billy hums, running his hand up and down Harrington's boxers-clad ass.

"I'll take that as I should hold you during all your punishments from now on, hm, baby?"

There's a sniff and a quiet ‘please’ from Harrington.

"Sure, pretty boy. Setting it as a rule then." Billy puts his hand on the small of the boy's back, holding him in place. He hears almost a relieved sigh.

"No fighting. Sit still. You're not allowed to cover your pretty ass, got it?"

"Yes, Billy."

Billy watches his own hands on the waistband of Harrington's Calvins, snapping it at his skin lightly.

"Tell me why are you getting spanked now, baby?" He smirks, feeling how the boy flushes at the word ‘spanked’; emphasizing it for a bigger effect.

[dylanxmin]

painkiller ∣ 2 ∣ j.hs

breakups are habitual, ordinary maybe even easy for some other people, and maybe it could be easy for you, too, if you haven’t been dumped by your boyfriend after finding out that you were pregnant. no, it wasn’t easy even a bit. and a stranger who wants to be your side doesn’t make this all easy for you, at all.

pairing; jung hoseok x reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, pregnancy au, strangers to lovers au, single!mom au, slice of life au,,

warnings; angst, and more angst(we will have less angst in time i promise), swearings, mention of sexual harrasment(it’s a light scene) 

word count; 7.4k

rating; nc17

a/n; heyo!! i know i’m pretty late, but it took me ages to write, and it was hard for me to gather my thoughts to turn them into writing,, but yes, here i am with the episode 2!! i hope you can enjoy this episode as much as the first one. i’m really happy with the feedbacks i got with the first episode, and i love to write this fic, so thank you for encouraging me more to write about this hoseok and y/n. i still need your feedbacks tho lol,, love you all ♡

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taglist; @xxluckydreamsxx​ ,, @parkminhee​

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‘Can you please take this to Jin?’ Jimin asked the man who passes by him, causing him to stop, eyes narrowed after he looks at Jimin. ''You know I would, but I have to finish this resource, and he doesn't want to see me before I finish this,'' Jimin begs once again, eyes taking the shape of a puppy. What Jimin said is not a lie, and he is drowning in research for a patient, where Jin asked him a lot while ago, and he is a bit scared to see him before he finishes this. 

''Okay, okay. Give me that,'' Jimin coos, wiggling his body before handing the file to the man who saves him, with a big grin on his face. ''I owe you big time!'' he yells, while the other man takes a turn at the big white corridor. His big grin fades after he turns his papers, he has a lot of things to do yet, he finds himself procrastinating, as he always does. 

Hoseok folds the file in his hand, sighing to himself, and asks why he always finds himself while agreeing what Jimin says. And not only on work, but he also does this at home, where he feels too lazy to do the dishes or the laundry. Hoseok loves him, loves him like a brother, but he has to learn to say no. Both for his and Jimin's sake, otherwise, he will find himself while beating his ass. Hoseok takes another turn, where Jin's room is, but before he could open the door, someone does it before him. 

Hoseok barely holds himself from crashing on you, his eyes wide open due to the sudden move. A little whimper leaves his lips, but you were too busy to hear that or even see him. He goes silent after seeing the tears on your eyes, the pain, and uncertainty on your face. A very familiar face with the familiar emotions on it. Hoseok's mouth takes an 'o' shape, eyes watching you to getting away from him. 

While trying to understand what just happened, he enters the room after knocking two times. A line appeared between his brows, familiar yet unknown feeling fills him, he wants to shake his body, head to toe. ''Is she?'' he doubts, eyes finding his friends who have the same confusion on his face. Hoseok couldn't understand why he was feeling this way, and why he was happy to see you again. He lets a deep breath, closing the door before heading to the chair, and sits where you just left. ''Well, it's a small world, huh?'' Jin laughs as he said something funny, but Hoseok crinkles his nose, gives him a blank stare in return. 

''Wait... she is pregnant?'' his eyes went round, for some reason he couldn't bring these two things together, even though not knowing you enough to come up with a character analysis. ''Yes, but good news, she wasn't drunk, rather than what we think,'' Jin gave a half-smile, open his arms to emphasize the good news he was giving. 

On the contrary to his friend, this news wasn't good for Hoseok. He remembered how you looked down in the dump the day he first saw you, and after seeing you with tears on your eyes, he felt heartbroken. He didn't know you well, but he couldn't help but want to reach you and talk to you about this. 

''Hobi, don't tell me that you are thinking about talking to her or something... please,'' Jin grunted after seeing how sadness clouded his friend's features. Jin knew well enough that Hoseok would do something such a thing. He couldn't understand why, but Hoseok always tried to help others, even without knowing them, so Jin was sure that he would that once again. 

Just like Jin afraid of Hoseok's whole face lit up, he throws the file he holds in his hand at Jin's desk before leaving his office in hurry. The doctor hit his face with his palm, shaking his head in disbelief. ''He never learns,'' he sighs, grabbing the file for distracting himself from his too friendly friend. 

While Jin is already focusing on the work, Hoseok finds himself while eavesdropping the conversation you have with your mother, as he heard you calling the person as 'mom' over the phone. He didn't mean to overhear your phone call or acting like a creep once again, but he couldn't approach you after seeing you on the phone, in a deep conversation. He was just going to wait until you finish your call, as he said to himself, but courage left his body after you get up from the bench. His body betrays himself, and he stands there only to watch you getting away once again. 

''Aish... stupid legs,'' he scoffs, leaning the back of his head to the wall, chewing on his bottom lip. He swears himself to come to your side when he sees you again. And his instincts say him that he will see you again. 

Fried eggs, boiled eggs, or any kind of eggs, it didn't matter how they made it, or why they made. You hate it. You hate it with all of your presence. While the scent of the very disgusting thing starts to spread, there is no way for you to refrain from jerking your body from your bed, hitting your toes to every possible object in your room, thanks to your sleepy head. This is how you start your beautiful day. 

Spasming and ratching above your toilet, nails digging into the napkin you hold one of your hands, as your life was depending on it. 

As you barely hold your head up and eyes still tightly shut, you prayed to not dripping your newly cleaned floor. Fortunately, throwing up with closed eyes wasn't your first time, but they were only caused by your drunkness, rather than pregnancy. 

And this is your story how you found yourself above on the toilet, pouring everything inside of you. Your nose crinkled at the sight, pushing the flush after throwing the napkin that you wiped your mouth. Morning sickness officially trying to end your life, as it was interrupting your sleep every morning, which a pregnant woman needs sleep. And stealing your food, vitamins, and all the other beneficial objects from your body. Also, the things that a pregnant woman most needed.

After you lift yourself from the ground and splashing cold water to your face, a little drop takes a track from your sleeves, dripping the white cotton rug. When the very hideous smell hits, closer this time, you stop wiping your face to the towel. No... no. He did not do that. 

Your eyes find the man's big grin in the mirror, but his grin fades after seeing your petrified glares staring the pan he holds with big confidence. ''Don't you dare to take one step closer,'' you warn the man with red hair, eyes darting over the pan and his rounded eyes. His eyebrows waggled, holding the pan a little higher to your dismay. ''Aigo... I present to you the best breakfast and this is my reward? And I'm waiting here for a big fat thanks. What a shame...'' 

''Tae, just hold that scum far away from me!'' 

''Stop being a brat and thank me, you brat!'' he pouts while holding out the pan, but his eyes sparkled with horror after seeing you cover your mouth while letting a loud gag. ''You are just being dramatic here,'' he says, turning his back at you, but he holds himself from making a sound while visibly ratching. If Taehyung had a list of weird habits of him, throwing up after seeing, or hearing someone throwing up would be on the list. He makes a speed walk in your corridor, trying not to hear your sound. 

You push the flush once again while listing how to kill someone before getting physically fight in your mind. Poisoning is the first thing to comes across your mind, but you let those thoughts slide from your mind before heading inside. He was too young to die anyway. 

The red-haired man lets out a big sigh, the brooding eyes meet with yours. ''I still can't believe that you are pregnant,'' he throws the last cherry tomato to his mouth, chewing it loudly. ''and when are you going to visit Yuri, she is still super surprised,'' he says nonchalantly while making a small sandwich with salami and the fried egg. 

''You mean my mom?'' you questioned, voice comes out hoarse as you hold your nose while sending him deadly glares. ''and can you just not eat this today?'' you gestured the salami and the egg, turning your head to another side, trying to hold your gag. 

Taehyung scoffs, murmuring how you destroyed the beautiful morning for him, but he can't take the risk of making you vomit all over the kitchen, so he moves them away from you. ''Better?'' he asks after opening the kitchen window, and you nod appreciatively. ''Yuri-... I mean your mother called me after you gave her the news, and told me everything. I hope you won't get back with that bastard because we said pretty good things behind him,'' he plastered a smile on his face, adjusting his hair by brushing it with his hand. 

''I'm still upset with you if you haven't realized it. I'm your best friend and you didn't even bother to give me a call. I wait for three days, but nothing.'' he rolled his eyes, arms crossed above his chest. 

Well, he did have a point by being upset with you, but you hold yourself from giggling as you remembered his face when he comes to your door yesterday, at two o'clock. Eyes of him seizing you in disbelief, one of his hand resting on his chest, above his heart, shaking his head side to side, slowly. He emerged inside, telling you how angry and upset he was, but as you were pregnant he wasn't going to yell at you and make the baby sad. Rather, he gave you the 'how could you' look for a whole night long. And, for your belief, it was worse than him yelling at you. 

He would scold you when he can, between changing every fabric that contains the very memories of your ex, aside with his scent. The scent that tearing your heart, suffocates you to death. He would be cursing and swearing in every two minutes behind your ex, send him the most negative thoughts, mentally. You hardly convince him to send his stuff to charity, and not to burn. 

In his defense, burning them would clear the bad aura he left behind. More likely, that may or may not ease the fire and the hate Taehyung feels about him. Probably won't, you guessed. 

''This is all new for me Tae... Even I can't believe that I'm pregnant,'' you shared, taking a sip from your tea. The weird taste of it made you scrunch your face, but Taehyung made you this saying it was good for a pregnant woman. ''And before I visit my mom, I have to get used to being like this,'' you peek a glance to your belly. As you said to him, it was too new for you to face your mother with a living creature in your stomach. 

Yet, you don't think you will ever get used to this feeling. 

''Okay...'' he nods, licks the chocolate from his fork. But soon after, he gets up and tells you that he had enough of this gloomy atmosphere. He cleans the kitchen, and not letting you help him even though you try, he kicks you out from your kitchen. After he finishes, he tries to guess if it's a she or a he, or maybe neither in his defense. Asks you a lot of questions about pregnancy, makes a couple of jokes about how you knocked up and then he starts to look for baby clothes. When he can't decide what to buy, he calls your mother, but the conversation even comes to your highly charismatic doctor, and you show them his picture. 

It's not the best side of him as it was in the hospital site, still, it was enough to drop Taehyung's chin to the ground. He threatens you to stay away from him, narrows his eyes to reassure you that he was serious, but you just put a couple of slaps on his shoulder between in your laughs. 

''There are people out there, looking like a statue, plus, a brain on their skull. Yet, my naive daughter chooses the stupid one and an ugly stupid,'' your mother sighs, shakes her head, causing Taehyung to burst into laughter. You on the other hand whine and pout the very offensive comment your mother did. Not that she is not right, but how could you possibly know that your three-year relationship would end like that. ''I hope this baby chooses to be like you. At least from the outside,'' another laughter raises from your best friend, your mom won't stop teasing you and ganging up with the redhead. 

''I thought you two would be the wind on my back, not to spit on my face,'' the old woman looks at you the same way as the younger adult. Eyes narrowed, lips pressed together. Both of them try to understand what was that supposed to mean, and you giggle, still surprised by the similarity of the old lady and the young male. It's not a wonder how people thought Taehyung as your mother's son, rather than you. 

''She is just making up words to get us, don't fool by it, Yuri!'' Taehyung warns, mouth twists in disgust and disbelief. And the called woman agrees, hums, and nods her head. You were being a third-wheel between your biological mother and your very best friend. At least you were feeling, and you start to pout. Arms crossed over your chest, having an attitude without making a big fuss. 

Soon after you talk hours and hours, Taehyung and your mom got your sympathy before he gets up to head his home, insists on making you come with him, but you refuse for thousand times. ''You know I'd stay but the couch isn't good for my back,'' you giggle before kissing him goodbye and he leaves after telling you to call him for even the smallest thing. 

The ease on your shoulders fades, sorrow gathers on your chest soon after Taehyung left. Once again, you are grateful to have him in your life. From the first time, you two met in the elementary school, said man never left your side, up this day.  You two hold the hands of each other when you had your first vaccine, and never stop holding. Somewhere the friendship of the two turned to the friendship of the four when Taehyung befriends with Yoongi and Namjoon. 

You love them, adore them for the chaos they bring to your life. That's why you kept your mouth shut about this news, as you knew that they would go crazy, won't leave your side for a moment to be a helping hand. For having and pressing that kind of attention, you should get prepared before. You need to accept the situation, first. 

Six-week pregnancy hits you hard. Not just the morning sicknesses, but also sore, swollen breast due to the change of the shape. Yes, they look bigger than ever and you like how they filled your oversized bra, but the light pain made you uncomfortable. You try to massage them on the shower with your shower gel to ease the ache and constantly refused the help of Yoongi. He offered you to help with the massage thing, which you only sighed and shake your head in disbelief.  

Side of this, you start to pee for like a thousand times a day. Day or night didn't matter, and you always find yourself sleeping on the toilet, waking up to a new need to pee. It was frustrating, annoying, and blood boiling. 

You push the flush once again, adjusting your clothes before heading to the work. Before passing your sneakers to your feet, you take a glance at your long-forgotten heels. Pointy, tight shoes only manage to cause you more burden on these days, so you decide to stay away from them. Who would like to have sore feet while dealing with pregnancy? Not you.

''Give me a break...'' you turn the wheel, heading to another parking lot as some jerk decides to put his car to your spot. There is plenty of parking lot, but this one was the closest to the elevator and you didn't want to park another place to walk all the way down here again. Because of your unstable emotions, you feel too tired lately, worn out, and wanted to cry easily. 

Your hold tightened around the wheel, head slowly falls on it after parking your car. You try to breathe, but it's useless. Everything feels too much, eyes tearing up, while defeat sits on your shoulders. Too much failure. Too much loneliness. Too much agony crept towards you, to your chest. All these days, you acted like there was nothing wrong with you. Like you weren't dying inside, like happy to be pregnant. Or, happy to be dumped. 

Long story short, you weren't. You were waking up to vomit on your throat, ache on your chest, and the first thing you see was your dirty toilet before heading to work. A cramp grows in your chest, won't letting you breathe that you need desperately. Hiccups fall by your lips one by one, just like the tears on your face. Does it have to feel like this? Does it have to hurt like this, you didn't know. 

So many people want to make you happy, who will be your side from the start to end, but somehow this feeling of loneliness won't leave your mind, your heart. You want only one of them on your side, even though you don't accept to be pregnant. But the only person you want on your side, wouldn't be your side. 

You reach to your purse, take a napkin to adjust your face. The business won't work itself, as your boss always says. People need games to play. Most likely, rich people. 

Elevator doors open with an irritating voice, too old to continue working you think. Before you take a step, you hear your name right beside you, causing you to startle. ''Did you made breakfast? If not, join me.'' the man in nothing but sweatpants and a simple shirt, greats you at the door with a big grin. He wishes you won't find a lame excuse to refuse him. 

''Ohh, Damian... you scared me!'' hand placed above your chest, you seized the man. One of his hand in his pocket, mug on the other one. The suiting scent of the coffee fills your nostrils. ''Well, I don't have an appetite for breakfast,'' while you press your lips together, his grin widens on his face, almost covering it completely. 

''Coffee then,'' he turns on his shoes, not letting you say anything before heading to the small kitchen in the office. You sigh, but feeling too tired to turn him down and to deal with his insists. ''Actually, I would like to have a tea instead,'' he turns, eyes widened with your sudden request. Both because you really did follow him, and choose tea over coffee. The brown-haired man knew you more than three years now, and he knew you well enough that you would always choose coffee over tea. 

''That's also good,'' he doesn't want to waste his chance by asking you too much question, so he just smiles. He refreshes his coffee, while you take a sip from your tea. Smooth peach fills in your breath, warms your stomach, nose wrinkles with the warm feeling. ''Thank you,'' you hold your mug up, bowing your head slightly with a smile. 

''Aish... I want to kick his head and his ass. Why he has to be a jerk like this!'' right before the man who stands on the kitchen talks again, his mouth shuts as the voice of long heels, and whinings fill the room. You great the woman with long black hair with your head, while she takes her place on the other side of the table. ''Who thinks he is? I know he is the head of the creative department, but ughhh-- he just annoys me,'' you press your laugh, while the girl covers her face with her freshly manicured hands. 

You exchange looks with Damian, he doesn't hide his smile while playing the hair on his neck. ''Don't you think he is annoying? Y/N?'' hand on your wrist disconnects your stare, and you turn to see round pair of eyes, burning with rage. You found this oddly amusing and also too familiar. 

''Stop pushing Y/N to talk bad about her friend Nara,'' Damian finishes his drink after scolding Nara with an irony. You let your smile out, feeling better after burying your anger and fears to the back of your mind. In fact, you were too busy to think about your low life at this office. ''Fun fact, he is also my boss,'' you narrow your eyes, pointing your forefinger at his face, ''not just yours,'' 

He looks at your finger, then behind you and Nara before speaking. ''Speak of the devil,'' he jokes, waving his hand. You both turn your backs to meet the man you gossip about, Nara lets out a loud groan, hands covering her face once again. 

''I didn't know that I was paying you to chat all day,'' the man in a cream suit leans on the kitchen bench, raising his brow. ''Well, you don't pay us exactly,'' you raise your brow, imitating him but fail to hide your mischief on your tone. 

''If so, don't come at me asking for a raise,'' Nara rolls her eyes after hearing his annoying voice. She really finds his voice annoying. Irritating, and mostly his voice always drives her crazy. 

''Joon, you wouldn't do that. Not to your best worker,'' you pout, but both Damian and Nara protest what you said. They find your high confidence ridiculous and presents their objections. But the head of the creative department can't handle the mess and raise his voice to gather the attention on him. ''Okay, okay, okay. There is no raise near soon, so save this fight for another meeting, alright?'' 

He holds his hand up, regretting to open the topic of the raise. Both you and Damian let a light chuckle, while Nara rolling her eyes at him. Namjoon sends a cringy wink to her before leaving the kitchen, causing Nara to make vomiting sounds. 

Bitter liquid finds its way up to your throat, so you choose to run from there, following Namjoon. Avoiding the numbness on your throat for not to humiliate yourself on the work by vomiting and then explaining why you were vomiting all around the floor. Aish... you would never want to experience that. 

''Don't you have an appointment with--'' between in your overthinking, you cut his words with a loud whine. You close the door behind you and face him. The so-called boss looks at you with round eyes, mouth parted slightly due to your sudden reproach. ''Did I say something wrong?'' 

''No... of course not Joonie,'' you give a little break, scratching your neck in embarrassment. Not that he said something wrong, but more likely what he was going to say would only cause more gossiping and a big fuss that you couldn't handle in this exact moment. You take a seat in front of his desk, rubbing your palms on your thighs. ''I just... don't-- not ready for everyone to hear, you know?'' 

Namjoon's heart aches for a second, seeing you ill at ease and weary makes him upset. He wasn't that oblivious to not recognize how tired you look with the dark bags under your eyes, cursory makeup you do to look more lively, hiding how you feel actually. He just wants to take you from this nightmare you live, but he is too powerless to do so. 

''Sorry Y/N... I'll try to be more careful,''  you smile at him, waving your hand like it's not a big deal, but he knows. ''But, you do have an appointment, right?'' 

''Yes, I have,'' you pause to take a sip from a bottle of water he has on his desk. Out of the blue, you feel dehydrated. ''That's why I barge in here. I need to leave a little bit early today... You know what for,'' Namjoon sized you up with a fond smile on his lips, and you knew that he was up to something, probably going to say something to boil your blood. 

''You came here to ask permission, as I'm your boss, huh?'' opposing to his cocky, annoying expression, you could feel your jaw clenching while eyes twitching. Everyone thought having a friend who is your boss would have benefit for you but in reality, it was annoying. He continuously bragging about this, even after your shifts, while having a joyful meal. ''Joon, I swear that I will sue you for sexual harassment,'' you glare at him, but he lets a scoff. 

''As they would believe you,'' his finger goes between you and himself, forehead creased. ''I'm sorry but obviously, you are not my type,'' you literally growl after his statement, rubbing your face with your palms. What a frustrating human being... 

''I'm leaving,'' you get up between his laughs and attempts to make you stay longer, but you shut the door behind. While sighing and heading to your desk, you feel sorry for Nara. That woman tries not to kill him and tries not to lose her mind because of all his bullshits. You send all of your blessings to her. For hers and Namjoon's sakes. 

''Tell Jimin that if he won't hand me the research I assigned him until the end of this week, I swear the god I'll fire his pre-nurse ass--'' when you enter the room after knocking, two pair of rounded eyes lands on you. You eye them with wide eyes, not expecting to hear these words from your Doctor. ''I'm sorry... I knocked on the door but--'' 

''Y/N! I was waiting for you-- come in,'' despite his red face and visible veins on his neck, his tone comes out sweet like the first appointment you had with him. You give a faint smile in return with a little head bow, closing the door behind you. ''I just need a minute, okay?'' you nod. 

Standing under the white light, eyes focused on your shoes. You should have stopped chewing your lips when you feel nervous, but you never manage it. You liked Doctor Kim, but being in this room will always make you nervous and tense. Being here made your nerves go crazy, pain on the chest and the reality of your situation would always hit you hard in here. Realizing the truth, the truth of being in an unwanted pregnancy haunts you every time you find yourself in here. It's only the second appointment you had, and you shouldn't feel this worn out by this, but you know that every time, every appointment will feel like this. Stressed, vulnerable, and trapped. 

You were too caught up with your own thoughts that you could only hear someone was calling your name after a couple of minutes. ''--Pardon me for keeping you wait, but I had to deal with these papers. So, how are we feeling?'' Doctor Kim's familiar gentle smile stands on his lips while addressing you, hands clenched each other on his desk. You open your mouth to say something. Mostly lying about how good you were, how everything was so great, but the pair of eyes catch your attention. 

Wide eyes staring you in shock and curiosity, lips turn into a pout, slightly parted. Soft brown hair stands on his head, matches with his brown orbs. Very familiar glows he got in his eyes, you think. Very familia--

''Oh let me introduce you to Hoseok,'' Doctor gets up, holding his hand up, pointing the man who confuses your mind. ''This is our greatest nurse, Jung Hoseok--'' 

''We should stop meeting like this,'' the nurse holds his hand up, waiting for you to do the same, but he surprised you with his absurdity. You would remember if you met a man like him. Men who smile like the sweetest peach. The smile that warms your stomach for no reason and the uncertainty made you uncomfortable. The same irritations you feel when you met with the clingy stranger. The day you learn--oh no... ''You always look the same. With the same dead eyes, I guess,'' 

''How--why? You?'' you feel the heat crawling on your neck, bottom lip shaking with the need to say something, but you only be able to sigh. 

You did watch a lot of movies. Both stupid and semi-stupid. Coincidences, serendipities, and all the unexpected meetings you didn't believe. You watched it all, and you gain mature enough not to fall for those stupid movies. Not letting yourself keeping your hopes high, but if you would do it if you keep your hopes high, you wouldn't want to waste those cute coincidences with these two strangers. But as your eyes go between Doctor Kim and the nurse named Hoseok, you could tell that you waste all of your luck. 

Not that you believe though. 

Hoseok feels his heart race quicken, even though he tries to hold himself being obvious, he can't control the shake on his hand. To his luck, you are too caught up with your thoughts to realize it. You were too caught up with the thought of turning your back and run to take fresh air, but that would be so extra. Even for you, so you just stay there. 

When you finally hold his hand to shake it, he gives a relieved sigh. And you don't know why his hand feels so soft and warm. Hoseok's let out a little 'oh' sounds when you take your hand from his grip, pout stands on his lip with the wide eyes because of your sudden move. But you didn't want him to take his hand from your grip, so that's mean you should take it. There is no way that you will stand in there, holding hands with an odd stranger. No way. 

''Did you drink the amount of water I ask, Y/N?'' thanks to your doctor, the most awkward moment you had with the complete stranger eases in time. You nod before he explains why he asked for you to drink water. Things that he explained before, but you were too distracted with pitying yourself and having zero clues about this. ''--we need this in case of any abnormalities on the placenta, checking the cervix for any kind of change...'' you just lost in his words, the unknown words you can't understand babbling in your ears, but your blood run colds when you heard the only familiar word. ''--and the best part, you could hear the heartbeat of the baby. You'd want this, don't you?'' contrary to his smile, you stare him blank. 

You stand there bewildered. Heart pumping the blood faster, cold enough to freeze your fingertips, and the weight on your chest send tears to your eyes. You did not come here for this. You did not. 

Hoseok's eyes wander between you and his friend. He feels anxious about the way you look. The way you bug-eyed looking Jin, chest moving up and down the way he never sees before, and he thinks it's going to explode. The tight and wobbly voice that comes from you even worries him more. ''I--I didn't... Do--do I have to do... that?'' 

You don't know how desperate or pathetic you sound, you didn't care. The only thing you know is that you weren't ready for this. Don't want to do this. The doctor sees the tears, but stays and sounds calm. ''Of course, you don't have to. But I believe it would be better to listen, both for you and the baby.'' his modulated voice ease your heart just a little bit, but you can't understand how this affects you better? Or the baby. ''You can think about this while changing your clothes, okay?'' 

You nod. Too worn out to speak, to find your voice. 

While you drowning in the thoughts of whether you should do it or not, having a mini-crisis inside of your mind, with the knock at the door you flinch. A frown takes its place on your face, and you open the door after adjusting the gown you just wear. Brooding chocolates immediately find yours, size you up with the same pout on his lips. 

Unintentionally, you look down before closing the door partly. Being partly naked in front of him made you uncomfortable, even though he is a nurse. ''Hey,'' he waves his hand in small, tries to smile but it fades because of your deadpan look. You are not in the mood for unwanted conversations. ''I just wanted to... wanted to check on you and ask if you want me to--'' his voice goes so quiet that you couldn't hear what he says in the end. Seeing how he blushes, you understand that he says something you would refuse. 

''You wanted to ask?'' you extend your head, raise a brow to make him repeat. 

''--stay with you,'' 

''What?'' 

''Would you want me to stay with you while listening to the heartbeats of your baby?'' he said in a small panicky voice, eyes searching your face to get ready to hear your reply. 

You stay dumbfounded. It is something stupid, even sounds stupid. You would refuse this. Refuse this immediately. Without thinking about it. Before your heart warms and the hammering on your chest eases. But you open your lips to ask the question you shouldn't ask. ''Is it okay for you to do it?'' 

''Well, I'm a nurse... and if you want this?'' Hoseok wasn't expecting this. He wasn't expecting you to agree on this, wasn't expecting to see the way your eyes glow. The very professional nurse wasn't expecting his heart to melt with the way your eyes blink before replying to him. But it does. 

''Then, I want you to stay. With me,'' 

You had no idea why you agree with him on this. You had no idea how to feel when you open your legs to Doctor Kim, right before you hear the heartbeats. ''You will feel a little pressure, just stay relax,'' the soothing tone of your doctor returns, and just like he said, you feel the uncomfortable pressure inside. When you clench nailing your palms, squeezing your eyes shut, a hand wraps around yours. 

Normally you would flinch with the sudden touch, or feel uneasy. But the way he holds your hand soothes you, the way his light squeezes on your hand makes everything a little bit better. These were unusual things to feel, probably hormones made you feel like this, but you feel grateful to him for staying on your side. 

The way you think 'not him again' when you saw him again, now left its place to gratitude for you. 

''Okay, I think we are ready to hear the heartbeats, huh?'' when your eyes met with Doctor Kim's, you forget how to breathe. Breath stuck on your lungs, your stare stuck on his, and you stuck on the white stretcher. You feel overwhelmed after hearing the intense mechanical beats. You didn't know what to do, how to act after hearing the heartbeats. Agony crept towards your chest, the ache is physical to feel when you covered your chest with your palm. You feel doomed. Vulnerable. Broken. 

Trying to swallow the bitter taste on your lips only made it worse, tears shimmered in your eyes. This was all real. You were pregnant, dumped, and all alone. Everything was happening and you weren't dreaming at all. You never wanted to cry out loud this much, to scream until your throat goes sore and maybe you would faint due to the tiredness. Maybe you would shut your eyes, and never open them again. You wanted to get rid of this ache. 

''It's okay. It's going to be okay,'' Hoseok couldn't help himself from patting your arm, trying to ease your mind. Seeing the tears on your face, the way you squeeze his hand when the beats filled in the room, devastated him. Yes, he only saw you three times, but you never looked this bad. This injured.

''Y/N, are you okay? Can you talk?'' even though you want to reply to him with words, it looked impossible to make a sound. You nod, trying to tell your doctor that you were okay, despite its a lie. ''Would you want to stay alone for a moment?'' 

You didn't know if you nod again, or made a 'hmph', but both of them left the room and leave you alone with your gloomy thoughts. Not that you know what to think, how to feel, or how to act. Why can't someone decides this for you? Why it has to be you? You didn't ask for this. You never wanted this. This... baby. You never felt this alone in your life. Down in the dumps. 

Trying to move was hard, due to the heaviness of your body, your mind. Numbness takes over both your mind and your body, as you try to change your clothes. Lifeless movement only occurs as a handicap on your way to the door, plus, you weren't ready to see anyone. But to your dismay, there was only Doctor Kim, sitting on his desk and writing. Probably for you.

''Ah. Are you feeling better?'' he wondered, lifting his head from his computer. Eyes of him examining your actions, your face to catch your true feelings while you gave him a faint smile. You answer him before wiping your forehead. All the stress made you sweaty. ''Oh, I'm. I'm okay, thank you,'' 

He smiles, points his front, invites you to sit. And you do as he says, taking your place while wondering where Hoseok went from the back of your mind. It was the best not to see him after your little breakdown, but still, it didn't stop you from wondering. ''There is nothing wrong. Baby and you look good, there is nothing to worry about,'' he gave a half-smile before continuing, ''but... Let me ask this Y/N, even though it sounds like I'm crossing the line. Would you think about seeing a psychologist? It's okay to have breakdowns and having troubles as a pregnant woman, and it's not something to abstain about.'' 

''I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable, but as your doctor, I'm offering you this. This is our second appointment and you had troubles within both of them. It can be helpful for you, and the baby.'' 

Keeping eye contact was something hard for you to adjust, so you just stare at your fingers, play with them. Although you know he was right and trying to be helpful, you offended. You can't help but feel disparaged. Feel stupid. Being this obvious about your situation was your fault, crying and looking like a wreck. ''I'll think about... it,'' you sniffled, wiping your nose before meeting with his gaze. 

''That's great. You don't have to do it, but if you do, that would be great for you Y/N,''  he said with a quiet empathy, smiling fondly to reassure you. And it wasn't all act. The blonde doctor sincerely wanted to be sure of your health. Both physically and mentally. 

Then, he gave you a paper filled with what you should do incase of fatigues and constipation, side with the essential tests you should do, and the multivitamins you should take. And you left his room after saying a pale goodbye. Probably he was pitying you, but you can't do anything about that, don't you? Well, there is always a choice where you don't cry like a baby every time you came here, but that already wiped from the list, you sighed. 

Exhaustion fills your muscles, your bones after finishing all the tests and check-ups. They were advising you not to go hard on yourself, even though they wear you out with all of these works. Not to be dramatic but you were the last one in this hospital, without counting the doctors and all. With droopy movements of your feet, you head to the exit, imagining your comfy bed, and the midnight snacks you will burry your face. Ahh, you could feel your heart getting warm with the thought of your bed. 

One-step, and you are out, leaving this place, and the heartbeats of the baby behind. Before terrifying misery stuck to your chest, you flinch by the touch on your shoulder. ''Oh, shit! It--It's me,'' you watch the man in dark clothes holding his head, grumbling with a pout on his lips. 

''Ah.. I'm sorry, but why are sneaking me from behind?'' you try to lean on him to give a good look on his head, but he steps back. 

''Did you have to hit me?'' he sighs, rubbing his head while still pouting. ''Gee... you got heavy hands, don't you?'' you try your best not to laugh at the sight, but he was forcing your limits while whining like a crybaby, all pouty and still rubbing his head. ''I'm--... sorry,'' 

''Aish... and you laughing?'' you pressed your lips together to hold your laughter behind, but you failed after seeing his smile. ''I'm smiling because of my rage, don't dare to think that I forgive you,'' 

''C'mon, I didn't hit you that hard,'' his eyes went round, scanning you from head to toe, hand on his chest in disbelief. ''and now you making a big deal of it.'' 

He lets out a gasp as he caught off guard. ''I could have brain damage,'' he mocked, taking his hand from his chest. 

You both stare at each other, without saying another word. You didn't know what to say, and he didn't know how to ask the question he wanted to. Hoseok glanced up to the ceiling, swallowing his words with loud gulps while you chewing your lip, and staring your shoes. In three minutes of silence, you couldn't understand the heat that was placed on your cheeks, as well as the quivering in your chest. It just made you uncomfortable, and you start to move on your feet. 

''I think I should--'' 

''Can I ride you home--'' 

Both of you choke in your words, staring at each other with wide eyes, and two pairs of red cheeks. You should say no, and head to your car and never look back, as this better for you. But part of you just want to accept his offer, and let him drive you home. ''I came here with my car,'' you told, but wishing him to find a decent excuse to drive you home. 

''Oh. It's okay then. We will see each other again,'' he cocks his head to the side, ''right?'' Hoseok didn't mind looking desperate if he doesn't look like some pervert, it was okay to look desperate. He wanted to talk to you, know you better, and maybe help you...? He didn't know what would you say, but couldn't help but want to spend more time with you. 

''Yes. I mean, I'll come here often, so...'' you won't except but you disappointed when he agrees not to drive you that easily. Even though, this was the sensible thing to do. He waved his hand before turning his back and leave you alone, reminding you to take care while walking away. 

You waved back, saying 'goodbye' while forcing a smile. When he disappears, you hit your head for acting like some dumbass. Why did you want him to take you home? Who was he to drive you? Were you always this idiot when it's come to a handsome man? 

Handsome? 

No. This was all hormones talking and thinking. It couldn't be you. You didn't find him handsome. Or cute. No. 

Now you are going to your car, and drive it to your house. To your bed and snacks. The bed where you sleep alone, and eating your depression snacks. Yes, sounds like a good plan. 

[bakubabes-tatakae]

Hello! I was wondering if it was okay to request a one shot for Gaara and his crush, where they had a bad relationship in the past but still want to open their heart to him and he reassures them? If it is too much, headcanons are also fine ^^ Thank you very much!

Past Wrongdoings || Gaara x Reader

AO3 Link

Word Count: 1,249

Warnings: domestic abuse mentioned

For the Kazekage to show any kind of emotions toward someone was a huge feat. Gaara hid them well, only pulling them out when he deemed necessary. He was afraid that if he showed to much weakness his people wouldn’t take him seriously, it took him a lot to get to where he was. The one person that saw his emotions more than anyone else was you. You were the thing that kept him going when he didn’t think that he could. You were the one person that could make him smile when he felt like he never would again. 

You were happy to do so for him. Gaara had let you see things that not even Temari and Kankuro had seen in him. He was your best friend, the one that you could talk to about anything and everything, but even then there were some things that you had hidden from him. 

You had hidden from him things in your past that you knew that you shouldn’t. You knew that you should have told him about your last relationship, but you didn’t want him to be burdened with it. Gaara was your protector, he had never wanted anything to happen to you. Your tears were the last things he had wanted to see. 

You had never told him how the last guy had spent his time demeaning you, doing anything that he could to harm you. The words that had left his mouth had cut you deep. Deeper than any physical wound could. He had never left those out either tho. You could still feel the bruises even though they no longer littered your body like they used to. You had told Gaara they had been from missions that you had been on, and when you hadn’t been on any recently you had blamed it on training. 

Gaara always had that uneasy feeling about it, but he would never push the issue. He had been afraid that it would push you away from him. Without proof he could do nothing, but he had always vowed that if he found out he was harming you he would come down on him with the wrath of a Kazekage. They didn’t deem him the strongest in the village and give him the title for nothing. 

As you sat outside the Kazekage’s estate, enjoying the sunlight of the day you heard footsteps coming up behind you. The familiar light steps of Temari. You turned to her, her face gleaming as she approached. “Y/n, hey! Gaara is looking for you.” She re-situated her fan on her back. “He didn’t say why. He just wanted me to grab you for him.”

You knew you had a puzzled look on your face, but you stood and thanked her. What could Gaara possibly want from you? A mission maybe? As you approached his office you had found it already open. He was sitting at his desk, finishing up some paperwork. As he heard your footsteps he looked up. “Y/n, please, come in.”

You walked in, slowly approaching his desk. “What’s up? I heard you were looking for me.”

“Yes,” He put his pen down and slowly stood, coming around the desk and leaning against it. “I’m glad Temari got to you in a decent time this time. We both know how she’s famous for procrastinating.”

You laughed a little. “Yea, that’s Temari for you.”

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s been eating at me for months now.” His face changed some as you watched him. His nervousness started to show and you could feel his tension radiating off of him. “You might want to sit first.” He motioned toward the couch beside the two of you.

You obliged and sat down, him sitting next to you. As he sat your knees touched, just the small touch making your heart pound. Gaara took your hand in his, but you pulled back by instinct. Your body tensed as you took your hand back, but as you saw the confusion on his face you calmed some. “Sorry.”

He took your hand again. “No need to apologize.” He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat as he tried to speak growing larger with each word. “I just wanted to get something off my chest. I’ve been holding them in so long that I’m afraid they’ll overcome me if I don’t.” Your own throat felt like it would close as you listened to his words. “I like you Y/n, I have for a long time. Not just the friendship kind of like where we get along well and spend time together. The kind of thing where I want to spend all my time with you. The feeling where if I don’t get to see you then I feel like I’ll be overcome with sadness.” He sighed. “I’m not good with this whole feelings thing Y/n, you of all people know that.”

You were shocked by his words. You trusted him now, but trust was something hard for you to keep. Did you like Gaara? Sure, you had for a long time, but you couldn’t go through the same things again. You couldn’t take that chance. “Gaara, I can’t… There’s something I never told you.” 

His eyes turned soft as he heard the hurt in your voice. “What do you mean?”

“My last relationship, the guy that left the village, he didn’t leave just because he needed a change of scenery. He left because I told him if he didn’t I would report him to you.” Your voice cracked as you spoke the last few words. The trauma of your time with that man coming back into the forefront of your thoughts. “My bruises were never from missions or training Gaara. I’m sorry I lied to you. I was afraid of what might happen, and I loved him.”

Gaara’s eyes grew wide, anger filling his face. “You know you can trust me Y/n.”

“I know Gaara, but I also know how you feel about the people around you getting hurt. I didn’t want anything bad to happen.” 

Gaara placed his hand on your cheek, his touch seeming to calm you some. This was the first time another person’s intimate touch hadn’t given you flashbacks. “He’s gone now. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know Gaara. I just… I can’t bring myself to trust anyone anymore.” You put your hand over his. “I’m so scared that the same thing will happen again. Don’t ask me why I am. I know you would never dream of it, and I wont to be with you. I really do. I have for a long time, but my brain won’t let it happen.”

Gaara was one of the most understanding people you had ever met. “Take all the time that you need. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here waiting for you whenever you’re ready. If it takes a week, a month, or a year, I’ll still be here.” He leaned forward some and as his face approached yours you could feel your anxiety climbing. But as his lips touched yours it began to fade and a feeling of security washed over you.

You smiled into the kiss, speaking to him. “Thank you Gaara.”

“Anything for you Y/n. You’re the one who holds my heart. It belongs to no one else. Please, just keep it with you and know that it’ll always keep you safe.”

Naruto Content Taglist 💕 @chidori-mint @praisingkuroosbedhead @korianrdr @ari-hatake15

[liliesoftherain]

Bomber Jacket

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Genre: Angst, Comforting

Word Count: 1.5K +

Summary: Who knew that old bomber jacket of his would lead to this.

A/N: I had a quick inspiration and I typed this out, so after this I really won’t post anything new until finals are over! I’m just a huge procrastinator so anything to keep me away from homework I will do. Enjoy!

The sky was nowhere to be seen, it’s form hidden by the darkened clouds. Not even the raging winds could help push them aside, they were here to stay. Although,even with no intention of letting the light shine through, they provided some beauty. It was an ethereal sight to behold indeed: the gray that painted the city as if it were a photograph changed by a filter. Not even the blinding fog that swirled in the streets below could lessen the bitter sweetness of it all. 

You watched it all from the comfort of your home, sipping warmth straight from your mug and allowing its comfort to sooth your sorrows. It was a day like this after all that changed your life forever. That was all in the past now. Her cold fingers threatened to squeeze your throat with her harsh memories, but it was all a dulled pain. One you have learned to suppress as the years trickled on, trying to enable yourself to find another happiness. A block from it all. You did, and he was the most perfect thing your life has blessed you with

A sound from upstairs caught your attention, glancing up at the ceiling as if you could peer through to see the mysteries above. You stood, setting your cup down as your curiosity pulled you up the stairs and towards the open attic door.

The stairs that led up there were calling your name, as they have only seen you a few times since moving in years ago. Your heart felt heavy as you knew what lies in store for you once you go up there, it happened every time you did. It was the main reason you stayed away after all, your heart could only break so much. 

You heard another thump and incoherent mutterings followed. You shake your head, a smile forming on your face despite previous thoughts that were creeping into your mind.

“Love, are you up there?” 

The old steps were taunting, daring you to climb them. Their whispers were screams that you could barely hear over until a light voice broke through, causing a peace to wash away the harsh tones.

“Yea, I’ll be right down.”

That wasn’t fair, you knew it wasn’t. Just because you couldn’t stand the reminders of your past, doesn't mean he shouldn’t be able to enjoy them. 

You willed your body to move, taking the steps slowly, cautiously. The further up you went, the more quickly your heart began to beat. Till you reached the top and it stopped completely. The sight before you was quick to bring tears to your eyes, a hand slowly coming up to your mouth to muffle the gasp you didn’t even realize you made.

Red eyes met yours, they were just as wide as your own, a hint of shock and regret swirling in them. 

“What are-uh, I-I’m sorry I didn’t think you’d come up-” He stuttered, gaze now looking anywhere but you. 

You could only stare in complete silence. Your thoughts taken over as former dormant memories sprung to life, dancing in your head like a movie on repeat. All you could see was Katsuki standing there.

“Mom.. I’m sorry-”

“You have no reason to be my love.” Your eyes shining with unshed tears, causing him to panic.

“But you’re crying!” 

“Am I?” A smile graced your lips, despite the tears that now freely down your cheeks. 

You son was speechless, unable to do anything as you brought him into your arms. The hug lasted for what felt like a lifetime, but it still wasn’t enough for you. You ran a hand through his spiky blond locks before pulling back just enough to gaze at his face. You didn’t have to look down far, even at the age of thirteen he was already close to surpassing your height. 

“You look so much like your dad, I was caught off guard is all. That was his favorite jacket you know?” 

He looked at the bomber jacket as your run your hands along the sleeves, playfully tapping each patch on the way.

“I got him this one you know,” You pointed at the flaming skull on the collar, “he was so embarrassed when I pointed out how quickly he got it sewed on. He thought if he yelled loud enough it would distract from the giant blush on his face. It didn’t.”

“Mom?”

“Yes love?”

“Can I..” He looked away, arms untangling from your middle and brought to hug himself. 

“You most certainly can have it, your.. your dad would be so proud of you.”

You wiped the tears that now ran down his face.

“I miss him.” 

“I miss him too baby.” You brought him in for a hug once more and he gripped your shirt like a lifeline. 

“I know he misses you too, God, he loved you so much.” 

He sobbed into your shoulder, and your heart was squeezing at the sound.

“I have something to show you, I was going to wait till you got into his alma mater, but I think you need it now.” You pulled back and led him downstairs into your room. You only kept a few things in your room of his, a few shirts, a few gifts, but most importantly his notes. 

No one would take Bakugou Katsuki as the type to write love letters, but he did. He wrote many to you in his life, and you kept them all in a special box in the drawer of your bedside table. 

You son looked confused as you sat down on the bed, legs hanging over the edge as you patted the spot next to you. He complied, staring at the box you gripped tightly in your hands.

You opened it to reveal tons of papers that were kept organized, trying to keep it that way as you dug through the contents, finding the paper you needed.

“Your father wrote this.. For you.” 

He slowly took the paper from your hand, and looked at the surprisingly neat words that filled the entire page.

Son,

If you’re reading this then I’m sorry, because this means we can never have this conversation in person. I often think of the type of legacy I will leave behind for you, will it be enough? Will it be something that makes you proud? Even more so, I wonder if I was around long enough for you to remember me. This line of work I am in is dangerous, but I could never picture leaving it. I do this for you and your mother, to make sure the world you will grow up in is a safe one. I hope you know how much I love you and how much I want for you. From the start, from the very first moment I laid eyes on you, you were the spark of my life. The one thing that truly mattered.

I wish I could be there for you, there is so much I wish to share with you, to experience with you. Things I hope I will, so you will never have to see this letter, but things don’t always work like that. So here are some lessons I hope this letter will provide, and you allow these lessons to take root into your life and be bigger than I ever was;

Always protect those that are weaker than you. If all you ever do is look down on people, you won't be able to recognize your own weakness. I was never good with this rule myself, not until I met your mother. Yet not truly until I met you, my son. Keep that compassion and strength that comes from a concern for the world and the people around you, don’t lose it. Use it to push yourself, to be stronger. 

Be safe, I cannot stress this enough. Don’t throw yourself into danger because you think that is the only way to win. No one is winning if you think dying is the only way to save someone, you must live for others. Your mother doesn’t deserve another heartbreak, and you’re the only one there who can provide the love she needs. She is the strongest person I know, but she’ll need someone to lean on. So don’t forget to lean on each other. 

Love with all of your heart, never be afraid to share your emotions. They don’t make you weak, it’s the opposite. Your strength doesn’t come from your quirk, it comes from your heart. Your feelings, your love, your care, your compassion.

Above all else son, I want you to remember that even if I’m not physically there with you, my love for you will always be. I love you more than life itself, and I’ll be damned if anything tries to convince you otherwise. I will never be really gone, I’ll always be in your heart. Remember that.

I am your biggest fan, I am your greatest protector, I will always be proud of you, I will always be confident in your skills, I will always love you unconditionally, and I will always be here for you. Nothing will change that. So I hope you can forgive me one day for having to leave you so soon.

I love you son.

Your dad, 

Bakugou Katsuki.

Tears fell from your eyes at the sight of your smiling son, his hands lightly tracing along the words of the paper. He looked at you, eyes red but a determined grin on his face, and in that split second you swore you saw your husband sitting behind your son with the same smirk on his own.

“I’ll become a great hero, just like dad, even better than him. I swear it!”

“I have no doubts you will dear.. I have no doubts at all.”

[ryukisanemochild]

struggling with your plot?

okay, I know I'm not the only writer who struggles A LOT with plot. like, I have the characters, worldbuilding is done, I also have a begging and an end, but what the hell is gonna happen in the story itself?

here's my tip for planning your whole story very easily! it worked incredibly well for me (I plotted in a week a very complex story that I’ve been struggling with for months). it might not suit everyone but maybe it will work for you!

(also sorry in advance if there are mistakes, I’m not fluent in english.)

okay, first, try to have a begging and an end. if you don't, it's fine, but having an idea of the end will really help. also don't put too much thinking into it, it's just a direction to help you know where you’re going. also you can totally change it later if you find a better idea.

now, think of your story as a series.

I mean a series like Games of Thrones, Sex Education, Rick and Morty or whatever you're into. don’t worry, you will come back to the novel format once you're done, but this should help you to build your plot.

first of all decide how many seasons you want your story to have. this means dividing your story into big parts. for this you only need to have a vague idea of your story. if you have none at all, make up one, even if it's poor. you can for example have something like “season 1: Anna and Lucie fall in love. season 2: they confessed to each other, agreed not to see each other again but fail every time. season 3: one of them is getting married, the other one decides to stop the marriage.” in this case the ending is the two characters finally getting together - or not. the most important is to know how and when each season begins and ends.

once you have your seasons, decide how many episodes you want in each one. it's better if every season have the same number of episodes, but it's not an obligation.

now let’s focus on the first season. decide how every episode begins and ends, and what happens in it - without to much details. again, if you really don’t know what could happen, try to make up a story, no matter if it’s good or not. example : Anna meets Lucie at the office, and they immediately feel attracted to each other. a few weeks later they go on a business trip together, during which they get to know each other better. on the last night of the trip, they’re both drunk and they kiss. that’s it, no need to be more precise! one sentence per episode is enough. do this for your whole first season and write everything down. for me it’s easer to plan this on paper. so i made a line for each season, and then divided it in five episodes because that’s what works for my story. i wrote the global event in one or two word (ex: ”they meet”, “trip part 1”, “trip part 2 + kiss” etc) on the top of the line, and how the episode ends (ex: Anna receives a text from Lucie: “we need to talk”). for me it looks like that:

now it’s time to add details. try to picture each episode it in your head as if you were watching it. this is really helpful to me; for example it’s easier for me to imagine the first scene of the first episode as if it was a movie than to write the first words. write down what happens in the episode, but with more details than in the last step. you can extend each sentence to a short paragraph. to get back to our example: how do Anna and Lucie meet? what is their first interaction? what happens next? this, again, is pure imagination. you can invent anything. and don't worry if it's cliché or not as good as you'd like to be. remember it's only a first draft of your plot! also think about the characters: how would they act in this precise situation? what situation could make them evolve? when in doubt, put them in uncomfortable, painful or any extreme situation. this should put a bit of action into the story. do this for every episode until the end of the season. also, try think of a cliffhanger for every episode's end. doesn't have to be a big one, small revelations are good. (example: Anna learns that Lucie is her new neighbor.) the last episode’s end should have a big cliffhanger. (ex: a few days after Anna and Lucie’s first kiss, Anna discovers that Lucie is engaged.) it can also be helpful to decide the approximate length of your episodes, so you know how much action you can put into each one. on paper, for me, this step looks like that:

congrats! you now know the big lines of your first part of the story. but it’s not finished yet.

once you've roughly plotted the first season, it's time to get to the subplots. subplots add action and complexity to your plot. (if you don’t want any subplot in your story, you can skip the next two steps.) each subplot should be based on one character or a group of characters. do the same thing you did for the main plot: just invent a story. of course it is easier to say than to do, but remember it doesn’t have to be good. you can even take a story from another book or movie, and you’ll change it later. write this story down. for example: Anna’s sister just lost her job, so she decides to go back to her childhood dreams and open a restaurant. you can then develop on and on about every difficulty she meets on the way to achieve her dream. make her have money issues, meet new people, argue Anna who doesn’t believe she can make it... it’s the same process as for the main story: make a short paragraph about the big lines of the story, and then expand each sentence to another short paragraph. remember it’s not your main story, but write it as if it is. you can write this subplot from begging to end, or only to the end of the first season.

then divide this new story into episodes. again, think of the begging of the episode, and try to have a cliffhanger or a complicated situation at the end. write down what happens in each episode just like you did for the main plot.

repeat the last two steps as many times as you want. i think having three subplots is enough; if you choose to have more it may take some focus off the main plot, and will also make your story more complex. but of course that’s entirely up to you to chose! to keep the example of our love story, you can add the story of Anna’s best friend, who has feelings for Anna’s sister, and as a third subplot, show one of Anna’s coworkers who is extremely jealous of her and would make everything to destroy her life. making links between your subplots will add tension to your story; and of course, each subplot will add interest to the main plot. the link between a subplot and the main plot doesn’t have to be obvious from the beginning, but they all have to get together at the end. (also, when you start a story, you have to finish it. so no matter if it’s a happy ending, a heartbreaking one or in-between, each subplot should have a clear end.) write everything down! looks like this for me:

now, last step. let’s go really into the details. make a timeline of every episode, and write precisely what happens, from begging to end, as if you were writing the script for this episode to be filmed. this is the moment where you decide which scene is following which scene, how many space you want your subplots to take... for example, write what happens in the first scene: we see Anna at the office, having lunch. her friend who tells her there is a new director. right at this moment, Lucie comes in. she’s the new director. her eyes meet Anna’s eyes. Anna blushes. “oh no, she’s hot”. cut. next scene. we see Anna’s sister, crying. she’s just been fired. but then suddenly a picture falls from her bag. it’s her, age six, a cooker hat on the head. she smiles when she sees the picture, and wipes her tears from her face... etc etc! do this to every episode, take all the time you need to do this.

now you already have a pretty good idea of what’s going to happen in every episode of your first season. yayyy! at this point, ideas should start to come more easily. links will appear between your different plots and different characters, and this will bring even more ideas for plot twists, secrets, revelations... this is a great moment to go back and read everything you’ve written, as your story probably evolved since you started. don’t be afraid to change what you wrote, cut off or add some parts. as always, when in doubt, think about your characters. what would they do? what could happen to them that would make them grow up and learn? what relations are the most interesting to develop?

once you’ve finished the first season, go back to the first step, and do it all again for your second season, your third etc. of course you can have only one or two seasons, or for example decide each season will be a book for your novel series. again: this method worked for me. take what works for you, leave what doesn’t!

now, it’s time to write. forget the series (unless you have decided to send your series to Netflix), go back to the novel format, and write. write! this is also a very difficult and scary thing to do, but it should be easier now that you know what happens next. also don’t forget that everything you’ve planed can be changed at any moment! this is just a tool to help you. so get a cup of tea/coffee/anything strong, stop procrastinating, and just start writing.

your story is going to be amazing.

[sunflowrhaz]

I was tagged by @theleavesoflorien​ to answer a few questions that dig a little deeper. thank you darling!! (this is literally months old oops) 💛

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen?

both really, i don’t have a preference

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or in the city?

country! i hate cities so much! i grew up visiting my grandparents farm all the time growing up! although instead of the country preferably a seaside town such as the one i live in. it’s not too busy but not far away from everything.. plus i couldn’t part from the sea! 

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

picking back up painting, continue learning norwegian (don’t look at me like that marianne i keep saying i’m learning it but i’ve been so slack asdfdsasdf), get back into marimba

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

tea with sugar is so gross! i only drink herbal teas. my favourite is spearmint

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

the harry potter series!! and the rainbow magic books asdfgfdsa, the princess diaries series, anything roald dahl, anything dr suess, captain underpants lol, hairy maclary, mr mcgee and the biting flea asdfdsadf soo many i was such a loner as a child and literally read every single book i could find

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

showersss

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be?

a mermaid so i can live my h2o fantasy adfasdfds or a dragon 🐉

8. Paper or electronic books?

paper always! i love the smell and i would love to have a giant bookshelf filled with books one day! i read on my phone for fics of when i get a free ebook but my right eye is so blind it’s like bitch no stop please lmaoo

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

all my flowy boho cotton blouses and pants! and my fave blue jeans and grungy tshirts

10. Do you like your name? Would you like to change it?

i used to wish it was a little more unique like shortening it to ren/wren instead of lauren because i had 4 other lauren’s in my grade at school 😂i was literally friends with two lauren’s asdfgfdsa

but in the end i do love my nicknames lozz,lozzy, lozza so it’s not so bad!

11. Who is a mentor to you?

my mother and my grandfather! my grandfather is my biggest inspiration 💛seeing all that he has achieved and his views and mentality on life.

12. Would you like to be famous? If so, what for?

nooo thanks. the only famous i would want to be is for activism/humanitarian/environmentalist stuff but even then i wouldn’t want to be super famous and known?

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

nope! once i’m out i am out! i love my sleep and do everything i can to ensure i get the best sleep ever! now if you’ll excuse me i’m off to listen to harry’s calm meditation 😂

15. Which element best represents you?

fire and air

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

my brother! i feel like i don’t see him as often anymore what with his work and living in seperate houses. he is my best friend so i miss just always having him near me all the time.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

no one so much as just not seeing my family as often even though i do see them every week. i just want a big family holiday to spend time with them. and i’m missing some of my mutals atm who are busy lately 😞

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

i blocked out so much of my childhood eeep ummm probably visiting my grandparents farm, riding horses, my grandfather driving us around on a trailer on the back of a tractor, collecting cicada skins with my brother and starting a collection of cool bugs, stealing berries off the mulberry bush ahaha, finding snake skins (why did we like collecting skins wtf asdfd) 

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

snails? crocodile? i don’t even know ahaha (snails are amazing btw yummm i used to eat them all the time in vanuatu growing up)

20. What are you most thankful for?

my family, my health, the beautiful country i live in, the friends i have made on here 💛so many things

21. Do you like spicy food?

yummmmmm yes! just not super duper spicy i can’t handle that asdfgfsa

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

no i don’t think so? wait patty walters from as it is i got a pic and a hug from him <3 other than that no i don’t think so i mean i’m in the middle of nowhere asdfdsa woohoo australia

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

i kept a super embarrassing diary at 12 but apart from that nope! like seriously that diary haunts me i don’t know what happened to it please for the love of god i hope it got thrown in the trash asdfdsa the CRINGE 

24. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

pen! 

25. What is your star sign?

sagittarius sun, capricorn moon, libra rising 

26. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

CRUNCHY! wtf who is eating soggy cereal you are seriously disturbed asdfgfdsa

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

this is so tough ummm just bettering humanity and the environment idek 

28. Do you like reading? What was the last book you read?

yes!! i was the loner kid in school who sat in the library at lunch reading all the books asdfgfdsa. the last book i read was the raven king by maggie stiefvater because LIBBY got me totally obsessed with this series god dammit what have you done to me and i am currently reading call down the hawk which is a sequel to the raven king (dammit libby asdfdsdfdsa)

29. How do you show someone you love them?

i always seem to cater to them with acts of service? so like cooking for them etc.. just doing stuff for them and looking after them in general? idk how to describe it. also sweet little messages and notes and cuddles! oh BOY will i tell you how much i love you in a birthday card or message asdsa like i will bring a tear to your eye baby just made my grandpa cry with his bday card asdfdsa

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

crushed ice mmmmmm

31. What are you afraid of?

losing my family, never travelling, being stuck/tied down

32. What is your favourite scent?

the ocean, rain, books, sea breeze, wet grass, coffee, lavender, clean sheets, spearmint

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

mostly their name? i mean i feel like where i live in australia it’s pretty chill and not so formal? i even call my grandparents by their first names adfgfdsa mainly because my grandma did NOT want to be called grandma 

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

OH BOY! i would be travelling non stop! i would literally never come home, i would be travelling around the world, living overseas etc... literally i would just be living on a boat sailing around greece or wherever. omg how i would love to do that :(

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

it depends. i would say the ocean (i love her so much) but also i was a swimmer for over 10 years so i love the pool too. i love sitting on the bottom of the pool, it’s so calming

36. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground

keep it but if i knew whose it was i would return it

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

no :( hopefully one day

38. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

i’m not having children

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

maybe a quote/word or something on the back of my arm above my elbow idek i have an entire tattoo board on pinterst asdfdsa even though i know i would never get one i am too indecisive  

40. What can you hear right now?

 i’m listening to a pop punk playlist on spotify

41. Where do you feel the safest?

at home with my family

42. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

my procrastination habits omg i am the worst!! certain family relations

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

dinosaurs mate, straight up, jks jks... no but really dinosaurs would be soo cool though, or maybe ancient greece?

44. What is your most used emoji?

💛✨😂

45. Describe yourself using one word.

more than one came to mind so giddy, optimistic, cheerful

46. What do you regret the most?

not travelling heaps after school ( i mean i was broke but still i should have worked more *sigh*) travelling looks really bleak now thanks to covid :(, losing touch with 3 certain people from high school i suck at staying in touch with people i am such an introvert 😞

47. Last movie you saw?

enola holmes and i loved it so much!

48. Last tv show you watched?

the mandalorian

49. Invent a word and its meaning

wobmap - intense affection and wonder for nature and the world

asdfgh what even

i tag: @pridesobright @sunflower-vol14 @rnbziamau @dailylouis @boobear-harold @princessparkhl @rosegoldeyelids @echoedsparks @angelharry (it’s been a while my secret santa pal ahaha hello!) and whoever else want’s to do this please feel free to say i tagged you! :) feel free to ignore 

[vorish-musing]

Now They Know

GRAB SOME POPCORN Y’ALL, THIS STORY IS HUGE. 22 FREAKING PAGES AND 8800+ WORDS MAN. 

Summary: The losers have a reunion one year after destroying IT. surprises and a lot of chaos ensues

Warnings: don’t be fooled by the Fearplay, this is a soft, g/t vore fic that is completely non-fatal, although it has digestion mention (nothing happens), pain (not to prey) and multiple prey. 

“I don’t know, what time would that be? Oh, that's perfect, Richie just got off tour and we were already planning to go on a trip”

Richie’s ears perked up at Eddie's voice entered their apartment, a smile crept across his face as he realized Eddie was home, but he was confused at who Eddie was talking to, what did it have to do with him?

The man made his way to the other side of the Apartment, where Eddie was still on the phone, smiling goofily, like he was a child getting a present.

“Alright, I’ll book the tickets then.” he paused, letting the other person speak, “Yes, I’m telling Richie, I can’t just kidnap him.” he laughs, and the other person on the phone laughs too, Richie was beginning to get worried about what was happening He hated surprises and he wasn’t going onto a plane with no idea where the destination was.

“Okay, see you then, bye Mikey” Eddie hung up, turning around, surprised to see Richie there with a suspicious look on his face. “What?”

Richie’s look softened when he realized his boyfriend was talking to Mike Hanlon, the only person he would ever call ‘Mikey’. “What was that about?”

Eddie’s smile brightened as he went to the kitchen, Richie following “Mike wanted us to come out to Derry again, to reunite. It’s been so long since we’ve seen the losers.” as Eddie spoke, he grabbed a glass and got a cup of water, Richie sat on the counter.

He didn’t realize how long it was since they went back until Eddie said it. it had been about a year since they had their ‘reunion’

“Oh, Mike also says he has a really big surprise for us when we get there.”

“Cryptic. I like it” Richie Shrugged “When are we going?”

“Mike said he wanted us there next week, I’ve already requested time off before he called so I’m good.” Eddie took his laptop out of his briefcase, putting it on the Island table and typing away, booking the tickets as soon as possible.

This was going fast, but Richie was used to it by now, living with Eddie meant there was no waiting for anything. The apartment was always spotless thanks to Eddie. Richie would usually procrastinate, but Eddie wouldn’t let him, finding ways to make Richie do it, it was mostly threating not to show affection, which would make Richie do anything in a heartbeat.

“What about my uh…” Richie spoke, pointing to his stomach. That made traveling harder for them, when cravings got really bad, Eddie would drop everything and make his way over to Richie, so he wouldn’t have to result in eating an inebriated stranger again, even if that meant going across the country, they were both lucky that they were very well off.

“The trip there is only three hours, if you want, I can book one ticket and I can go inside for the plane ride.”

Richie shook his head, he didn’t know how the metal detector things worked, and he didn’t want to get caught with a tiny person in his stomach. “I can hold out,”

And that he did.

The plane ride to Derry wasn’t terrible, the whole time he was afraid his cravings would come on, but they never did. He just watched a documentary with Eddie on the shitty TV screen, drinking shitty alcohol the plane had, and tried his best to keep his mind on the show, he realized thinking about his hunger usually made it worse.

As they got off the plane, the two men noticed that Mike was standing right at the gate, smiling at them. He was accompanied by Bill who was practically beaming at the sight of them. The four of them shared their hello’s and went to go get the couples bag.

“How's Audra doing Bill?” Richie asked, putting his arm around Bill and bringing him in for a hug

“She’s doing great, working on a movie in Canada actually. I was happy to be able to fly out here in such short notice”

Eddie smiled and turned to Mike. “How was Florida? What brought you back to Derry?”

“I Moved to Florida, but I bought a cabin here so if we ever wanted another reunion, we could stay there, it’s right by the River.” Mike spoke as they made their way to the car Bill had Rented, putting Eddie and Richie’s stuff in the trunk. “I went shopping beforehand so we can make Dinner altogether”

“Not me” Eddie laughed “Last time I tried making anything I almost set a grease fire. Richie, however, is actually a pretty good cook.” Richie shied away, he didn’t think he was that great, all he did was follow other people's recipes. “What about Ben and Bev?”

“Bev and Ben are still on their way, but they said thirty minutes. Which is enough time to get the town.” the airport was a few minutes out of Derry, which was a little inconvenient, but none of the men minded at all. Richie and Eddie got into the back seats, Bill in the passenger, and Mike was driving.

The car ride to the Cabin was full of loud discussion, but it was mostly Mike gushing about Florida, how it was so much better than Maine, and that it was the first place where he felt free from everything that happened.

Richie tried to ignore the hungry feeling he had, trying to convince himself it was just because he drank on the plane and didn’t eat beforehand. But what he was smelling begged to differ. The other three men smelled amazing… no not amazing… appetizing.

He shook his head. He had expected this to happen, and he wasn’t going to let it get the best of him this time. Since he was able to explore his ability with a consenting person now (Eddie), it was easier for him to figure out coping mechanisms, and one of the best ones was drinking water. He didn’t know why it worked; it just did.

Mike Parked the car in front of the cabin, the men getting out. There was already another car there, Ben and Beverly getting out of it eagerly to see the other losers. There were hugs, smiles and a lot of excited chatter.

Eddie turned to Richie, sighing as he saw a familiar expression on Richie's face. He grabbed his backpack, pulling out a water bottle and handing it to his boyfriend, which Richie took immediately. His stomach growled, not happy it was getting water instead of what it really wanted, but the cramps died down a bit, so he could enjoy the night.

“Now I think you all remember I said there was a surprise, right?” Mike got the attention of all the losers, who just nodded in amused confusion.  “You guys should come in” Mike unlocked the door, letting the Losers gather into the cabin.

It was bigger than they thought it would be, from the outside it looked like only two people would be able to live there, but from the inside it looked so much bigger. The whole place seemed so cozy, much better than the town house they were in before.

“This is a nice place you got Mike” ben spoke as the group made their way to the Living room, which was carpeted and had a fire already lit in the fireplace.

“It's not just mine, it's ours” Mike put his arms around Eddie and Bill, who just smiled and walked with him.

“So, what's the big surprise Mikey, got some strippers in the back or something?” Richie chimed in, sitting on one of the big couches in the room, getting himself comfortable as quickly as possible.

Mike smiled, like he was waiting for someone to ask, “I’ll go get him” and with those words, mike left upstairs, the losers shared a confused, but curious look to each other, Eddie Sitting next to Richie.

There were quiet whispers they could faintly hear upstairs, followed by footsteps down the stairs, two pairs of footsteps. Mike entered the living room once again, the mystery person right behind him, still out of sight, until mike stepped out of the way with a big grin and misty eyes.

Stan Uris waved nervously at the losers, who all froze at the sight of him. Bill thought it was a ghost, but that couldn’t be possible, Ben instantly Ran up to Stan, giving him a huge hug, almost knocking the man over. Eddie followed suit. Bill slowly went over to his old best friend, grabbing onto him to make sure he was real.

He was. Stan Uris was alive

Beverly dropped the glass she was holding, the cup smashing on the wooden floor “Stanley?!” she spoke, he voices only able to let out a faint whisper. The whole room turned to her, she was frozen in her place, she couldn't move, tears were flowing down her face at the sight of him.

Stanley moved over to Beverly “Hi Bev.” he spoke, and she collapsed into his arms, the other men sat on the couches, while Eddie carefully moved around and cleaned up the smashed glass and water, trying not to ruin the two’s moment.

Richie too was frozen at the sight of Stan, but not just because he was alive, because he finally recognized him. Eddie noticed Richie’s horrified gaze and laughed.

“First Time trashmouth doesn’t have anything to say.” Eddie stood up, going to the garbage and placing the glass inside.

Stan turned to Richie with a big smile, ready to embrace the man as well, then froze. He recognized him as well.

 No...no no they can’t be the same person. Richie thought to himself as he stared at Stanley, but it was true, it was his best friend, and the first person he had ever eaten.

Stanley broke the gaze, moving to Richie and giving him a hug, Richie could feel the man shaking profusely.

Richie returned it with the same amount of nervousness. And cringed when he smelled the man. He still smelled good, and it didn’t help his cravings. The two let go, neither of them looking into each other’s eyes.

“How… the letters...I saw it.” Beverly spoke, Ben sitting her down on the couch with a new cup of water.

The losers were sitting as Stan told his story, apparently, he had attempted suicide, but his wife found him before he passed out in the bathtub, she called the police, and he was taken to the hospital. They saved his life, but unfortunately, he was put into a coma from how much blood he had lost. His wife sent out the letters he wrote after the doctors said there was little to no chance of him waking up.

“When I woke up, the first thing I did was call mike, he immediately came to see me, and told me everything that happened.” Stan turned to Mike, who just smiled and put a hand on Stans shoulder.

The losers spent the next hour or so talking, rebinding with Stanley and catching up on their own lives. Richie stayed silent on the Couch, and Eddie was getting worried, pulling him aside where the other losers couldn’t hear

“Are you okay” Eddie spoke, Richie just shook his head “You're not like this, what's going on.”

“I ate Stan.” Richie spoke quieter than Eddie. Whose eyes widened “He was the first person I ever ate 

“What?!” Eddie whisper yelled, it sounded so absurd, but if Richie said so, it must be true.

“I didn’t know it was him!” Richie held Eddies arms tightly, he looked down “oh god… when he hugged me, I smelled him… I’m getting water”

Eddies eyes widened, realizing Richie’s case was worse than he thought “You know I can go insid--”

“No.” he let go of Eddie, going to the kitchen, Eddie sighed, going back to the group. After a few moments Richie arrived with a cup of water, sitting away from Eddie and farther away from Stanley. Eddie didn’t feel bad, living with Richie made him learn things about Richie’s hunger.

People he had eaten before smelled better, since he knew what they tasted like. And when he had to hold it down it was worse. What Eddie did not understand was why Richie didn’t want to eat him, usually the man jumped at the opportunity whenever he could.

“I have an Idea.” ben proclaimed, catching the attention of the rest of the losers. “What if we went to the Clubhouse and showed Stan how it looks, He hasn’t seen it since we were kids”

Stan nodded excitedly, looking at the other losers, who smiled and nodded with him, even Richie, who decided he was going to enjoy everything, instead of worrying about his cravings. Eddie smiled seeing Richie’s mood change but could still see he wasn’t fully okay.

“Maybe we should eat first, then go” Eddie spoke, Maybe eating would help Richie feel better? Even if He had been dating Richie for a year, he still didn’t understand everything with his ability and what would help.

“It’ll only be for a bit Eddie,” Bill stated as he was getting his jacket on. “We’ll make dinner together.”

“Yeah” Richie finally spoke up after not speaking for a while “But who knows eds, maybe there are some spiders that you can eat along the way” Richie moved over to Eddie, making his fingers crawl across the man’s back, simulating a spider crawling up his spine.

“Beep Richie” Eddie squirmed away, Richie teasing the man by laughing at his reaction.

The losers left the house quickly, not caring how dark it was out. Mike and ben were leading, while the rest of the gang followed behind.

Richie was walking with Eddie, who was talking more with Beverly and Ben about a strange memory they had as kids.

“H-hey”

 Richie jumped at the voice behind him, turning around as soon as he heard it. Stan was looking sheepish walking behind Richie; his gaze was to the ground and his hands in his pockets. Richie felt the seed of guilt plant in him, he made Stan feel this way, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Oh, hey man” Richie tried acting normal, after all, they both agreed to never speak of what happened again, of course that would be a bit harder now that they’re not strangers.

“Can I ask you something?”

Richie’s stomach dropped, and it twisted painfully, both from anxiety and hunger, though he was trying to push it down, but try as he might, he couldn’t help breathing in Stanley’s scent. It was like fresh strawberries. “You already did” Richie smiled, trying to make an ice breaking joke. when stan gave him a serious look, Richie’s smile faded “Yeah go ahead”

“Do the others know about...you?”

Richie's eyes widened, it never occurred to him that Stan could get his secret out, “N-No!” he raised his voice in panic, Stan flinching at the change in volume. “Only Eddie.” he spoke again, this time in a quieter tone.

Stan nodded “I won’t say anything, I promise”

“I know you w-WON’T?!”

As Richie spoke, he felt like someone punched him hard in the gut, he fell on all fours, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain

“Richie are you okay?” Mike came over to him, not fully alarmed, but concerned, the other losers also came over, voicing their concerns.

“Oh, shit Richie!” Eddie pushed past the losers, who gathered around to figure out what happened, Eddie glared up at Stanley “What the fuck did you do” Stan jumped back slightly at how angry Eddie was.  his mind was racing, did Stan attack Richie for before? No no, stan wasn’t violent, 

“N-no he just--” Stan tried to speak, but Richie cut him off.

“I-I c-can’t” Richie groaned looking over to Eddie, his eyes were dilating, stan and Eddie shared a look, they both realized what was going on “I-I can’t control it.”

“Richie it’s okay if you let me go in-…”  Eddies words trailed off, was Richie getting...bigger?

Oh shit.

“What the fuck” Bill began backing up, ben held Beverly as they did too, mike froze and Stan’s back was against the tree, Eddie stayed right by Richie, who was growing bigger by the second, he comforted Richie as the man made noise, clearly in pain.

This wasn’t the first time Richie grew, but it was a rare thing, usually he shrunk people. “Richie it’s okay, I know it hurts. Please keep breathing for me.

“Eddie get away from him!’ Beverley yelled; the losers didn’t know how to react. The only other thing they saw that could be giant...Was pennywise.

After a minute of growing, Richie finally stopped, he seemed to triple in height. The man changed positions, hugging his knees, his head resting on his arms, he seemed more afraid then they did.

Eddie took a breath, before going to the man’s leg, putting a hand on him.

Mike finally snapped out of his frozen state to back up, falling back and crawling away in fear. “Eddie what are you doing?!’

“It’s okay.” he called to the others “Richie. It’s okay right?”  he waited for the giant’s response.

Richie finally looked up from his arms, his eyes were almost fully black, and he didn’t look like he understood Eddie at all.

Stanley's heart dropped, he recognized that look from before, “Eddie get away from him!”

 he wanted to run and pull the man away, save him from what inevitably was about to happen, but his body couldn’t move, his hands were stuck to the tree with fear. He could barely breathe

“Guys it’s oKAY?!”

Richie moved quickly, snatching Eddie up, holding him by his torso with his thumb and in and bringing him up to his face.

“eddie!”  Beverly tried to run to him, but Ben grabbed her, pulling her back. “Let me go!”

“Richie?” Eddie spoke, but it finally dawned on him that Richie was gone, only his instinct was in control. He wasn’t scared, but he hoped that Richie could snap out of it once he was eaten.

And with that thought, Richie opened his mouth, bringing Eddie inside, who didn’t fight.

“Eddie” the losers yelled in unison, they watched as eddies body entered Richie’s mouth, headfirst.

From eddies perspective, it was another day living with Richie, he was going to be fine and would be out in no time. The only thing Eddie was worried about was Richie snapping out of it and not eating anyone else.

From the loser’s perspective, it was much worse. They were witnessing their friend being devoured by a hungry giant. And they were most likely going to suffer the same fate.

Richie’s tongue dragged around eddies body, coating him before the giant swallowed. It was much more aggressive than usual. Richie tried to be as gentle as possible, this time it seemed more animalistic.

Bill couldn’t watch anymore of this, turning and getting away as fast as he could, stumbling around as he tried to find a place to hide from this giant that was once his friend.

Richie tilted his head up, downing Eddie in one gulp. His throat bulged out as his boyfriend passed his Adam’s apple, the swallow making a loud, sickly sound.

Eddie was crushed by Richie’s throat, but not as much as he usually was. He could move, and when he pushed against the esophagus, it wouldn’t squish him down harder. As he slid into Richie’s belly, the organ gurgling loudly as he entered, he noticed how roomie it was there as well.

Eddie pushed against the wall, “Hey Its okay!” he yelled out, hoping the losers could hear “He won’t hurt you guys!” he slumped down in defeat. He knew nobody was able to hear him, he just hoped Richie could snap out of it before he ate the rest of them.

The losers watched as Richie’s pupils shrink, but not back to normal. And he looked like he just woke up.

Richie didn’t remember where he was, all he saw were tree lines, which he assumed he was on top of a building or something. But when he looked down and saw himself, he made a noise of surprise.

His stomach hurt badly, he was still hungry, and to show it, his stomach let out a loud growl, making him turn red. Though an amazing smell hit him, his stomach whining for whatever it was. He still wasn’t fully in control.

He looked away from himself, and saw Mike, Beverly, Stan and Ben staring at him in horror. Ben was crying, mike and bevy looked like they were on the verge of doing the same. Stan stared at him, probably trying to figure out if Richie was coherent or not.

He looked around more for Bill and Eddie, but he didn’t see any sign of them.

That's when he felt the lump in his stomach, and the pounding on the wall. He licked his lips, tasting a sweet vanilla flavor, sighing in slight relief he ate Eddie and not anyone else.

“Guys” he spoke, his throat groggy, like he just woke up. Mike backed up fearfully “I-it’s okay,”

Beverly was silent, before screaming “OKAY?!’ the volume even made Richie flinch “you ATE Eddie!”

“I-I uh” He covered his mouth, he was drooling at the smell of the losers, he had to hold it down, panicked, he spoke through his hands “Stan you know it's okay, tell them”

The remaining losers turned to stan, who was frozen, he was reliving the memory when he was eaten, and was shaking like a leaf.

Beverly stepped closer, Ben yelling at her to stay back, she didn’t listen.

“Let him go, or I-I’ll make you! “She really couldn’t make him, but she would sure as hell try to. Richie tried backing up away from her.

“Please stay back” He bit his lip, his stomach begging him to snatch her up.

“Bev Stop” Mike yelled, running to Ben to hold him back.

She moved closer, right by Richie’s leg “Not until you let him go.”

“BEVERLEY!”

 Richie didn’t realize what he was going until Beverley’s top half was in his mouth. He knew he must’ve picked her up and stuffed her in, she was kicking wildly and trying to get him away from her.

He wanted to let her go, he wanted to drop her and give her back to Ben, who was being pulled away by Mike.

But he couldn't. She just tasted so good. He had to have her.

She tasted like cinnamon, it was delightful, no matter how much he wanted to stop, he just couldn’t.

Beverly pushed against the giant’s tongue, she knew she couldn’t get out of this, she just hoped that the others could get away before Richie could get to them.

She let out a gasp as she was tipped forward, slipping closer and closer to the dark red throat near her. With a loud, thick gulp, Beverly was shoved into the throat.

“beVERLY!” Ben yelled, watching Richie’s throat bulge out once again, and as she descended, Richie licked his lips, cherishing the taste of the woman.

Richie’s look of fullness soon turned to shock and pain as Beverly pushed and prodded at his throat, doing anything she could to make his insides feel like they were on fire. He held his throat and stomach, wincing at the pain. He hoped she would get down quicker, Eddie could explain as soon as possible.

As Richie was distracted by his own misfortune, Stan, Ben and Mike took their opportunity to run, following in Bills footsteps.

Unfortunately for them, Richie noticed almost instantly, in a panic, he yelled “Wait!” his throat was gravely, like he was sick. 

The losers didn’t stick around for Riches explanation, he didn’t blame them, all he could do was follow. Luckily for him, they wouldn’t be hard to find.

Beverly kicked, cried, even bit at Richie’s insides, trying her hardest not to go down easily, though it didn’t seem to faze Richie, his heart beating steadily and his breathing only a little bit off, probably from her blocking his windpipe.

She cringed as her body slid into Richie’s stomach, the organ happily gurgling around her, welcoming her to this prison bound in flesh and acid.

“Fuck you!” she screamed, kicking against Richie’s stomach wall, hearing the man react in pain, she smiled, at least she could give him some bruising before anything happened.

She winded up for another kick, but someone pulled her back, making her scream.

“Beverly stop its okay!” Eddie spoke, trying to hold her down to the best of his abilities, she flailed in his grip, she turned, looking at Eddie in horror, he was calm, she could make out a faint smile on his face

“No, it’s not!” she pushed him away “We’re dead, Eddie! Your boyfriend killed us!”

“No, he did-”

“Richie ate us, he’s going to Kill all of us!”

Eddie stood up, putting a hand over Beverly’s mouth “No he’s not!” Eddie yelled, loud enough to stop Bev in her tracks.

“He’s not going to digest us; I know that because I’ve been through this before.”

Beverly moved Eddies hand away, he guided her in sitting down, she was silent for a while, she had no idea what to say to him. This wasn’t possible. She asked him how, in a quiet, almost mumbling voice.

“Last year, I almost died. You remember” she nodded, like she could forget it, he was impaled right in front of her. “Richie saved me”

“He got you to the hospital.”

“No, he didn’t.” Eddie shushed her once more. “I would have bled out by then. He ate me, healing me from my wound.” she opened her mouth to ask, but he beat her to it “I don’t know how it healed me, but he knew.”

“Why didn’t he say anything”

“Because” Eddie sighed “he wanted to keep it a secret, it was embarrassing for him, so I didn’t tell anyone, the night we went out to a restaurant before we left, Richie wasn’t feeling well?”

Beverly nodded, confused where this was going.

“He was getting his ‘craving’ as he calls it, nothing will stop it completely, and if he didn’t eat me, what happened tonight might have happened.”

Beverly’s head felt like it was about to explode, she wanted to yell, cry, fight, but all she really could do was huddle up to Eddie, hoping that what he was saying was true.

“Let me go!” Ben Yelled at Mike, who ignored the request and kept dragging Ben in the opposite direction he wanted to go

“You can’t save her Ben!”

“I don’t CARE!” He pushed back, making Mike lose his grip on the man, giving his chance to escape. Mike fell to the ground as Ben ran away, wanting to be alone.

He just got her back, and she was gone. He was so afraid; this was worse than pennywise. Was it pennywise? He didn’t want to believe it was Richie, but it just didn’t seem like something pennywise would do.

Ben stopped running as he found the trapdoor to the clubhouse, he smiled at the sheer luck of the draw as he pulled on the hatch, which made a loud creaking noise.

He paused, hearing the ground rumble ever so slightly, making him break out into a nervous sweat. He wasted no time jumping into the clubhouse, leaving the lid open ever so slightly, so he could see if anyone was coming, maybe find Mike or Stan Following.

Richie could smell the losers scattered about, he didn’t know which one he would find, but at least he knew they were still in the forest. He felt terrible for what he did, and what he was bound to do.

He had to let them know he was okay, and maybe Eddie talking to them would help, Beverly had stopped struggling as much as she was before, still stiff and afraid, but Eddie must’ve helped her out a bit.

He put a hand on his stomach, not saying a word, he didn’t want to make anything worse.

His ears perked up at the sound of a door opening and spun around to where the noise was coming from, it wasn’t too loud, if he wasn’t on edge, he probably wouldn’t hear it.

His stomach let out another growl, and he groaned, nothing was going to satisfy him was it? Two wasn’t enough? 

Richie began making his way over to the sound, trying hard to see any movement in the dark. He noticed the trapdoor to the clubhouse opened slightly, then shut quickly with a loud bang

“Shit!” Ben Whispered loudly, seeing a tall figure approaching made him jump back, the lid crashing down, he moved to a corner hoping Richie would look, but not find him because of the darkness.

He stared as the trapdoor slowly creaked open, a booming voice called to him “I know one of you guys are here.” Richie sighed “Can we just make this easier and you come out?”

Richie sounded annoyed, but seemingly not annoyed at him. He sounded like he didn’t want to do this, and maybe he didn’t. After all, he did tell Beverly to stay away before… Ben shivered at the thought, the look of enjoyment on Richie's face burned into his memory,

Maybe this was pennywise controlling him? There was no telling what was going on.

Ben's eyes widened as Richie’s hand entered the room, moving around gently, trying to find him in the darkness. Ben stood up, pushing himself into the wall as soon as possible, unfortunately, as he did this, he knocked over something, making a crashing noise by his feet, quietly, he cursed himself out.

The hand froze, before moving in his direction, right in front of him. Ben stayed quiet, hoping Richie would move somewhere else. But he knew what was bound to happen.

He was surprised when Richie’s hands didn’t snatch him up hungrily, but carefully wrapped his hand around the man's waist, ben couldn’t do anything either way, being hoisted into the air, he attempted to pry the hands open,

Richie pulled the person out into the moonlight, “Oh Ben” He sounded surprised, like this was a game to him, hopefully he could talk him down to not breaking his jaw while he ate him.

Ben glared daggers at Richie, “Oh, a monster” he hissed at the giant, Richie looked genuinely offended by his words, frowning a bit before moving Ben closer.

Richie breathed in the scent, it was almost like coffee, his stomach pleaded for Richie to swallow him down, letting itself be known with another loud growl, which in turn, made Ben pale in fright.

“W-Well  what are you waiting for!” He yelled “get it over with!”

Richie opened his mouth to speak, to tell ben that it would be okay, that he wouldn’t digest him, but it was only met with more yelling, some of it incoherent.

Richie rolled his eyes, “Fine”

Bens words trailed out as Richie placed him inside his mouth, noting that he tasted like coffee as well. Ben pushed against Richie’s mouth, trying to keep it open, which was met with Richie’s tongue rolling him onto his back, soaking him in saliva and pinning him to the roof of the mouth.

“You’re not going to get away with this!” He yelled out loud

I know, I know. Richie though, he could feel the two people in his belly move around, confused about what was going on. He felt a painful kick at his stomach wall, making him swallow as he winced, sending Ben down as he was still fighting hard.

He yelled out in pain, at the kick, poking back at his organ, knowing who the culprit was. Once Ben moved passed his windpipe, he spoke, his voice showing his pain “Thanks Beverly, Bens on his way down now” he coughed slightly. Eddie and Beverly freeze, he could barely hear them speaking, only mumbles, but he didn’t mind much.

Something in him was upset he couldn’t savor Bens taste more, he found himself licking his lips, wanting more. God I’m such a glutton. Richie smirked a bit, even though he felt bad, it was semi enjoyable to finally swallow the losers. he wanted to do it for a while now, but he wished it was under different circumstances.

He felt Ben enter his stomach, it is gurgling happily in response, he paused to feel the three of them interact inside of his belly, Eddie seemingly trying to calm him down, Beverly embracing him tightly. He put a hand on his stomach, patting it carefully, noticing that it was bulging out a little bit more than normal, nothing that would cause alarm if he was normal size, he felt someone (probably Eddie) return the pat gently.

Richie sighed, turning around, going back to finding the other losers.

Mike ran through the woods, trying to find a way back to the house, or maybe just a place to hide, he made his way over to the quarry, the cliff being barricaded by a small metal fence. 

As he passed the quarry, he heard loud footsteps, way too big to be any of the other losers, he panicked, trying to find a place to hide.

Suddenly, Mike was pulled into the bushes. He let out a yell, his instincts telling him it was Richie. His mouth was covered by a hand, and someone shushing him into silence. He turned, sighing in relief, pushing the hand away

It was Bill, he looked petrified. “I heard it too” Bill moved as far back as possible “me and Eds would hide from Bowers here. I don’t think Richie would remember this exists.”

Mike nodded, the bush was quite roomy, he moved back beside Bill, “we defeated a demon clown, we can defeat this.”

Bill shushed him once more as the footsteps got louder and louder.

Richie made his way to the quarry, hoping to not see any of the losers going for a swim. He knew at least one was here, there was a sweet smell, and one almost like a mint smell.

He scanned the area with his eyes, getting on his knees to see below most of the trees. He cringed as the losers in his belly squirmed around, he didn’t know if it was enjoyable or annoying at this point.

Bill covered his mouth as he saw Richie looking for the two of them, Mike put a hand on Bills shoulder, quietly consoling the other man.

Another low growl made the two men cringe. Bills mind raced, he had no idea if him and mike were the only losers left.

A branch snap made Richie turn around, hoping that it was one of the losers, and not some stranger taking a walk in the woods. He couldn’t see much in the brush, maybe it was just an animal.

As he was distracted. Mike began to move, attempting to run to another hiding spot, but it was Bill who beat him to it, quickly and quietly moving out of the bush, to the cliff. He planned to jump in the water, Richie couldn’t get him at that point.

He climbed over the barricade, getting ready to jump. He knew this was a bad idea, that he should’ve stayed where he was, he gave one last look to Mike, who was shocked at Bills plan. He didn’t want to abandon Mike, but maybe the noise of him hitting the water would distract the giant so he could get away too.

With one last breath, bill let go of the metal, jumping forward, his heart pounding loudly.

But he wasn’t going to hit the water any time soon.

Richie noticed Bill at the edge, and feared for the man’s life, sure, they had jumped down before, but he could hurt himself on the way down.

Richie scrambled towards the man as soon as he jumped, luckily, he was able to scoop Bill up right before he started his decent.  The man struggled in Richie’s grip, yelling and pleading for the giant to let him go.

Mikes breath hitched, watching the whole ordeal go down. He pushed himself out of the bush, grabbing a nearby rock 

“Jesus Christ Bill” Richie laughed in pure shock “you we’re going to fucking jump off a cliff?”

Bill sneered at the giant “Let me go!”

“Bill you know I’m not going to do that” the tone in Richie’s voice was trying to be calming, but to Bill, it was condescending.

He stopped moving, realizing his predicament “Just make it quick you bastard”

“What?” Richie blinked in surprise. Mike, who was ready to throw the rock, paused. He didn’t understand.

“Do it! Kill me” Bill Exploded, making Richie’s eyes widen “you’re going to do it anyways, what's it to you? You get your sick kicks by killing your friends!”

Richie paused, the words hitting him like a bullet, the face he was making actually made Bill feel a bit of guilt, but that was soon dropped, he was going to die, why feel bad for the one who was going to kill him?

“Bill, you’re not going to die.” Bill looked at Richie in absolute anger “If you let me expla- OW!”

Mike threw the rock at Richie’s head, hitting him in the forehead, it wasn’t that painful, mostly a shocked outburst. He turned to Mike, who was picking up another rock to throw, but the giant was much faster, picking him up immediately.

“Don’t fucking lie! Just do it” Bill yelled, tears threatening his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to Audra.

“Fine, I'll let them explain instead.”  Richie sighed sadly, he was hoping he could get through to someone, but he knew it wouldn’t work.

Richie carefully opened his mouth, bringing Bill inside, Mike struggled, closing his eyes as he watched, Bill didn’t move a muscle, knowing it was no use.

He was still going to do what Bill asked, and started soaking him in saliva quickly and gently, he was still going to make this quick.  He found Bills taste quite pleasant, ignoring the dirt on the man, he tasted like Lemonade, sweet and a bit sour strangely enough.

“Richie stop” Mike pleaded with the man I know your still in there” as he spoke, we was, still not looking at the sight before him, “You can let him go, and if the others are still alive, you can let them go.”

Richie spent no time tilting his head up, gently swallowing Bill down. He patted his stomach, letting the three know a new loser was coming down.

Bill made no effort to move, allowing Richie to breathe calmly and not spend a few minutes soothing his throat, Beverly and Ben did a number on him as they went down.

“I really should just shrink back down, I think that would make this easier” Richie laughed, his voice still gravely.

Mike opened his eyes “What?” Richie shrugged “You’re not...being controlled?”

“Not anymore no” Richie sighed in relief and Mikes calm tone, maybe he could finally explain “with Bev and Eddie I wasn't really. Hope they’re not too mad.” he put a hand on his stomach.

It took Mike a moment to realize what Richie was saying, “They’re alive?!”

“That's what I was trying to say to Bill, but I think he had to see it to believe it.”  Richie felt the man in question enter his stomach, cringing at another kick inside, the losers squirming to make more room.

Mike shook his head, this was a test, there was no way the losers were alive at this point, he didn’t even think pennywise could keep people alive when they were surrounded by acid. He pushed at the fingers that held him

“You’re...YoU’RE LYING” he yelled loudly, pushing against Richie’s fingers once again, making the giant sigh, knowing he wouldn’t get through to mike, just like the others.

Richie pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m not...but” he sighs loudly “Guess Eddie will have to explain.” he had hoped mike would go at least a bit willing, since his stomach and esophagus had been through hell for the past hour.

Mikes heart sunk, realizing his mistake as Richie lifted him up, bringing mike into his mouth just as he did the others. As if on cue, mike fought back, punching the roof of Richie’s mouth, making the man swallow Mike on reflex. Still mostly dry.

Richie cried out in pain, holding his throat, usually it wasn’t this bad, but having something mostly dry sliding down his (already hurt) throat made it so much worse. He could feel the others moving, Eddie rubbing the stomach wall, and another pair of hands joined him…

Even in pain, Richie stopped what he was doing, wondering who was doing it, then another pair of hands joined. Though not helping his pain, it was a good sign that Eddie was getting through to them.

 Mike had an equally awful decent. Cringing and pushing against the esophagus. He seemed to drag just a bit, but that was the least of his worries.

He felt his legs enter what he assumed to be, was the stomach. He cringed, not ready to see his friends...or what was left of them. As he slipped in though, he didn’t see that. Quite the opposite.

Mike flailed and kicked, trying to get Richie to throw up, or just feel pain before anything happened to him.

“If it didn’t work for them, it won’t work for you, Mike”

He turned around, seeing Eddie Right in front of him, as he was about to start yelling, his eyes adjusted to the area around him, he noticed Beverly and ben, huddled in one area, bill beside them, holding himself, slightly shaking. They were all alive, Richie had been telling the truth.

“W-What?!” was all he could say. Eddie explained it to him, all of it. He sounded like a broken record to the others, especially Beverly, and he seemed very interested in speaking.

“But he told me he knew what he was doing with Ben and Bill” he looked down, there was no acid anywhere, maybe just a pool of saliva and water

“Yeah, the trashmouth went with the show don’t tell method.” Ben spoke, pushing against the wall, not hard enough to hurt Richie though, more playful.

Richie took a deep breath, holding his stomach, finally being able to hear them speak, they were probably hushed whispers before.

“F-fuck!” Richie turned his head at the new voice, one not inside his stomach.

Stan had been trying to make his way back to the cabin with no luck, he didn’t remember the area at all. He turned, seeing Richie on his knees, his stomach a slightly rounder than before, and moving. He backed up, slipping on the fallen leaves. He made eye contact with the giant; fear the only emotion he was feeling.

He remembered the disoriented look Richie had the first time, how his throat crushed him and how hot his stomach was, he thought he was going to die then, he was sure he wasn’t now, but it was still a frightening sight.

“H-hey!” Richie put his hands up, trying to look as innocent as possible, not wanting Stan to run. “It’s okay, they’re okay too” he felt his stomach moving, the losers confused at why his heart rate sped up.

Stan stared at riches gut, the shirt slightly bulged out around it, he couldn’t see every movement inside, but he could see it move from time to time, not to mention the gurgles coming from it were hard to miss.

“T-they know now...huh” as they spoke, stan became less anxious, Richie was in a completely different headspace than before, and probably an expert on what he could do.

Richie kept his hands up, nodding to Stanley “didn’t really have a choice.”

The giant watched as Stan got up, slowly walking towards him “how many…?”

As if on cue, Richie let out a small burp, holding his hand up to be a little more ‘polite’ “All except you”

Stans spine sent a shockwave through his body as he heard this, all the losers, and was Richie expecting him to go inside too?

Richie saw the look on Stans face, then turned bright red “shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…”

Stan nodded; his eyes fixated on Richie’s stomach “They’re okay...Right?”

Richie nodded quickly “yeah, none of them are hurt, and they’ve stopped kicking, so I think they’re at least calm now”

This is when Stan noticed how drained Richie looked, even though the man was trying to keep a chill face, he already noticed his strained voice, but his whole body looked like it wasn’t happy.

“are...you...okay?”

Richie paused, nobody had asked him that, sure, he didn’t really have a chance to have a conversation, but it still took him off guard “I’ve never eaten so many at once, I’ve only had one person inside at most. This is… completely new.”

Richie didn’t want to say it, but he really liked it, feeling so full, having eaten so many people, it was fantastic, sure before it wasn’t the most ideal, but they weren't fighting, a kick here and there, yes, but that was it.

He was so happy he could protect his friends this way, that he wouldn’t have to hide it anymore around them.

“Are you… going to eat me?” Stan asked, more curious than afraid at this point.

“I mean, I don’t have to prove that it's okay to you, right?” Richie chuckled slightly, “I’ll only do it if you want me to.”

On one hand, stan didn’t want to relive the horrors he had already been through, but on the other, he knew it was safe, and Richie wouldn’t hurt him.

“Can I… Speak to the others?” he awkwardly pointed to Riches stomach. The giant paused at the question, never being asked that before, then nodded.

Richie put his hands down as stan was right next to Richie’s stomach, the giant blushing a bit at the awkwardness.

“Guys?” Stan called, poking the outside of the stomach.

“Stan! Oh god STAN.” he heard Beverly’s voice the loudest, she was yelling over the others “It’s OKAY! Richie won’t hurt you! All of us are fine!”

“I kind of know that already...it’s a long story.” Stan laughed ever so slightly, realizing how weird it was to talk to the losers while they were inside.

Richie felt a heavy kick, ben yelling to him “you better not hurt him Richie! He’s been through fucking enough!”

Richie winced “I know that Ben! Just stop kicking already!”  stan felt bad for the giant, he clearly didn’t want this to happen, and now was stuck making his friends possibly fear him for a while 

He took a deep breath, “I’ll go in, if it's not too much trouble.”

Richie was taken aback by Stands words, “no trouble at all.” he was expecting Stan to stay as far away as possible, but now he was offering himself up

Stan looked around “what should I…?” Richie shook his head.

“You don’t need to do anything, just stay calm, and it’ll be okay.” Richie laid his hand out for Stan, who climbed on it carefully. This all reminded him of Eddie in a way, nervous, yet okay with it.

Richie lifted his hand up, Stan holding onto him tightly, just like he was trying not to fall off, even though Richie wouldn’t let that happen.

Stan’s breath hitched as he realized what he got himself into again, but... He wasn’t scared, if anything he was curious. He felt Richie’s warm breath on him, and he closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was all the way inside Richie’s mouth, the tongue carefully holding him in place, almost like it was ready for him to flail around.

But he didn’t.

Richie carefully closed his mouth, sealing Stanley inside, noting that he tasted like lime, something he didn’t notice the last time, then again, he wasn’t awake for that.

Stan awkwardly watched as Richie’s tongue curled around him, but he didn’t move, no matter how much he wanted to, he could tell by the darker red spots on the roof of riches mouth that the man had been through enough.

While this must’ve been torture for the losers, it was also torture for Richie.

He gasped slightly as Richie tilted his head back, swallowing gently, easing Stanley into his throat. He could hear Richie wince at this, probably in a bit of pain, but he slid into the throat smoothly.

Richie swallowed again, his airway blocked by Stan just a bit, but he was thankful that the man wasn’t moving, it must’ve taken a lot for him to do that.

Stan was prepared to feel the crushing feeling of Richie’s throat, the pulling of the muscles, but it just felt like a gentle massage, he could see why Eddie wasn’t scared, how he could almost find it enjoyable.

Stanley Gasped once more as he entered Richie’s stomach, barely being able to see the losers around the organ

Eddie was right beside him in an instant. “Are you okay?” he held out his hand to help stan up

Stan nodded, taking his hand, hoisting himself up, trying to get his footing on the squishy surface.

Richie held his stomach, no more kicks, punches, anything was happening anymore, he smiled at the feeling, surprised that he barely showed anything on the outside.

 “Hey guys… I’m going to head back to the cabin.” He poked his stomach, “before that though, I have to go back to normal… so don’t worry if you start getting smaller alright?”

“Smaller? You want us smaller?” Mike’s muffled voice called.

“Yeah unless you want to be covered in my guts instead of in them” he chuckled slightly

The losers sat as Richie went quiet, one by one, they began to feel dizzy, then began shrinking down, the stomach getting larger and larger as they did,

“This is insane” Bill spoke “Eddie, why didn’t you say this was possible before” he turned to Eddie, who just shrugged.

“I promised Richie I wouldn’t, he didn’t want you to view him differently, or react like you did tonight.”

Richie shrunk them as much as he thought was safe, around 3 inches for all of them. When he felt like they were the right size, he focused on himself, making himself dizzy, almost feeling like he could pass out.

He slowly began shrinking, wanting to make sure he didn’t get the measurements wrong with the losers and rip himself apart. Once he got to his normal height of 6’1”. He looked back at his middle, which was flatter than before, which made him sigh, thankful it wasn’t going to be obvious that he ate six of his friends.

“All of you okay?” he patted his stomach, no reply, they were probably recovering from the dizziness, but he felt a few taps coming from inside, that was good enough for him.

 He made his way back to the cabin, all too aware of the losers moving around, trying not to hurt him this time, he knew once he got them out, he’d wait a few days before eating again, his throat being through a bit too much tonight.

As he opened the door to the cabin, he took a deep breath in and sighed loudly. He felt someone pat him inside as he made his way upstairs, having no intention of letting the losers out until morning, something he did with Eddie quite a bit.

“I hate to say it Richie, but I told you so! You should have listened.”

Richie poked Eddie, knowing exactly where he was “shut up pipsqueak.”  Eddie laughed, and surprisingly, so did the other losers.

Richie dropped onto the bed in the first room he saw had no suitcases in it, being mindful of his passengers inside.

“Okay, hope you enjoy your stay at hotel Tozier, but you’re checking out tomorrow morning.” Richie took off his shoes then glasses, putting them on the nightstand. “Unless you want to come out tonight I can—”

“Beep Richie” Beverly spoke, “we can tell your in pain. Just sleep.” a bit of muffled sorry’s came after, but Richie couldn't blame them for how they were acting, they didn’t know.

He stayed awake long enough to feel each loser falls asleep, then allowed himself to, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time he did this to them. After all, they know now, he doesn’t have to hide it anymore.

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

told y’all it was long! I really hope you guys likes it since I worked really hard on making it perfect for you guys!

[rvnclwrites]

Herbology Tutor (Talbott x Female MC)

A/N: Sorry I went on a hiatus for awhile. A combination of writer's block and a serious lack of free time has prevented me from writing, and I was pretty bummed after seeing Akkiarn's spoilers, which essentially confirm canon characters not being options for romance. Because of this and in honor of the latest side quest with Talbott, I decided to write a fic about him. Don't worry though, I will get back to Charlie x MC fics, as well as my current requests soon.

Word count: ~2100

"(Y/N)? Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" (Y/N) said, her attention snapping from the blank piece of parchment in front of her to a disappointed looking Penny across the table. She rubbed her face, hoping to clear her foggy mind. "I'm really sorry, Penny. What were you saying?"

"That you need to get writing! This essay is due tomorrow, and you've never procrastinated like this before. I'm really worried about you."

(Y/N) forced a half-hearted smile, grateful for her friend's concern. "I'm okay. Go finish up your Potions project, I'll figure this out."

"Are you sure? I can explain the steps again if you want."

(Y/N) shook her head. If she hadn’t understood it the first two times, odds were a third wouldn’t be of much help either. "I really appreciate it, but I'll be fine. Promise."

Penny stared at her for a long moment before resigning. "Okay, but please come get me if you need anything."

As the Hufflepuff headed out of the library, (Y/N) grabbed her quill and began scribbling, intent on formulating at least a few meaningful sentences. It didn't take long though for her brain to stop working again. She angrily flipped through the pages of Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, feeling a lump rise in the back of her throat. Why was this so hard for her? She had outstanding marks in all of her subjects, she should be able to figure it out by herself.

"You okay?"

(Y/N) jumped, startled by the unexpected voice nearby, and she was surprised to find a familiar pair of brown eyes peering down at her. "Oh, Talbott," (Y/N) said, placing a hand over her racing chest. How was he always so quiet? "Sorry, you scared me."

Without a word, he slid into the seat next to hers and as he continued to be silent, (Y/N) realized he had asked her a question.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just trying to understand Self-Fertilising Shrubs." She rubbed her temples again and looked up to the ceiling, trying hard to ignore the burning sensation traveling up her throat and threatening to reach her eyes. She was not going to cry. (Y/N) never cried.

"Want some help?" He offered, scooting his chair closer to hers.

(Y/N)'s gaze trailed over to meet Talbott's. The pair had been friends for a few weeks now, playing Gobstones together and drinking Butterbeer on the weekends, but (Y/N) had always initiated it. This was the first time he was offering to help her.

Something warmed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach as she tried to decipher the look on Talbott's face. As always, he was a mystery; so tricky to read and it drove (Y/N) nuts. "You don't have to," (Y/N) said, biting her bottom lip. In all honesty, she really did want Talbott's help, but this was so out of character for him and she didn't want to put him out.

The corner of his lips quirked up in a subtle smile. "I owe you for helping me find my necklace."

An unrecognisable feeling fizzed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach. Talbott had only smiled a handful of times in front of her and when he did, it always made her inexplicably happy. "Thanks," (Y/N) said, returning the smile. "I couldn't focus during Professor Sprout's lecture and now I'm completely lost. My Self-Fertilising Shrub wasn't too fond of me."

Talbott laughed and flipped through one of the books in front of them, stopping near the back. "Here," he said, pointing to a paragraph near the bottom. "This section better describes their purpose."

(Y/N) frowned, looking down at the book. "Why isn't this page listed in the index then?"

Talbott shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't write the book."

(Y/N) elbowed him in the shoulder before skimming the section. Within fifteen minutes, Talbott had helped her write three lengthy paragraphs on Self-Fertilising Shrubs and the uses of their fertiliser.

"This says to leave around two meters between each plant. Why do you need to plant them so far apart?" (Y/N) asked, glancing up from her textbook.

"They'll eat each other, and most other plants for that matter."

(Y/N) blinked at him. "Oh." She flipped to the next page and frowned. "This says nothing about the feeding or watering process other than they need a lot of it. How in the bloody hell is that supposed to help me?"

Fighting back another smile, Talbott stood up and gestured for (Y/N) to follow him. "Come on, I'll show you how to feed it."

"Are you sure?" (Y/N) asked, not wanting to take up any more of Talbott's time if he didn't want to.

Instead of answering, Talbott's fingers closed around (Y/N)'s wrist and he tugged her to her feet and toward the door, sending a trail of goosebumps down her arm.

Once they reached the Greenhouse, (Y/N) located her shrub from earlier and apprehensively began following Talbott's instructions.

"I can't believe it eats that," she said, scrunching her nose in disgust at the unmistakable pile of animal flesh on the tray. Using the levitation spell, (Y/N) thankfully managed to feed the plant without having to touch any of it. "Anyone who says plants are romantic is insane. I don't think we've ever planted a single attractive flower. No, instead we get to risk losing an arm to this thing."

"Hey, be nice," Talbott said before turning to the shrub. "She didn't mean that, buddy."

(Y/N) bit back a giggle while she filled up the watering can and noticed Talbott tossing seeds into a soil-filled pot. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't worry about me, you've got a shrub to water," he said while patting down the soil inside the dainty pot.

"Are you sure it won't bite me?" (Y/N) asked, her gloved hands trembling as she extended the watering can toward the plant. She may not have been afraid of most things, but (Y/N) had enough common sense to fear anything labeled as "flesh-eating".

"Yes, I'm sure. That's why we fed it first."

Trusting her friend, (Y/N) cautiously poured water onto the soil (not over top of the shrub, per Talbott's instructions) and watched as the plant didn't protest like it had earlier. Instead, it wiggled in approval before standing taller. "I did it!" (Y/N) said, grinning wider than she had after acing her last Potions exam. She dropped the watering can onto the table and without thinking pulled Talbott into a tight hug. "Thank you so much." Talbott's body stiffened against hers, and (Y/N) pulled back quickly, hoping she didn't make him uncomfortable. "Sorry," she said, her face flushing.

Talbott rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, don't mention it. Seriously, don't- I'd never tutor anyone else but you and don't want people thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) laughed and felt that nagging sensation return to her stomach. She wanted to ask what made her special enough to warrant his attention but didn't want to make him start questioning it. "Deal."

(Y/N) began gathering her books from the floor and was caught off guard when Talbott asked, "So, why were you distracted in class?"

Straightening, (Y/N) felt that lump return to the back of her throat. "What?"

"You said you lost focus in class and that's not like you," he said, his attention still trained on the pot in front of him while he sprinkled the watering can over it. "Did something happen?"

(Y/N) dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand, hoping to force away the emotion fighting to creep its way out again. She wanted to lie. She wanted to keep telling everyone she was just having a bad day and move on. But this was Talbott, and not only was he smart enough to see through any of her lies, he had also been trusting and vulnerable enough to open up to (Y/N) despite how hard it was for him. 

"I realized that today is-" (Y/N) took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Today is my brother's birthday."

Talbott froze before lowering the watering can back to the table and turning toward (Y/N). "Oh."

(Y/N) nodded, blinking fast. "I just- I've felt terrible all day because I didn't even remember until second period." She looked down at the books in her hand, hating the heavy ache in her chest. It usually came and went, easily dismissable, but today it just seemed to continue swelling like a balloon.

"I used to spend holidays locked in my room. I didn't want to do anything but sleep and be alone," Talbott admitted, causing (Y/N) to peer up at him despite her misty eyes. "My extended family thought I should go see my parents’ graves or share happy memories, but I would always refuse. I didn't want to be happy without them, it made me feel guilty."

(Y/N) nodded, quickly wiping her face with her sleeve as a tear leaked out.

"It took some time, but now I know that's stupid. Your brother would want you to be happy. You can't spend every second worrying about where he is or what's happened to him- that wouldn't help anyone."

(Y/N) breathed in a deep breath of fresh air, feeling the knot in her chest loosen a little at Talbott's words.

"Just like I can't spend my entire life forcing myself to be miserable. That won't bring my parents back. If anything, that's letting You Know Who win."

Despite her sniffling, (Y/N) forced a smile at Talbott, grateful more than ever that he was her friend. "Thank you- for everything." (Y/N) peered up at him innocently and his eyebrows raised in response. "Can I hug you again?"

Talbott laughed, shaking his head before bracing himself. "I guess."

With that, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Talbott’s waist and rested her head against his chest. "Thanks," she whispered, smiling to herself as the gap in her heart fill just a little bit.

At first Talbott was rigid again, but as she stayed there, (Y/N) felt his posture slowly relax against her and, for a brief moment in time, she could have sworn he even hugged her back.

"Tell anyone about this and you're dead," he muttered into her ear, causing an unfamiliar nerve to prickle at the back of her neck and send a tingle down her spine.

(Y/N) squeezed her friend one last time in response before pulling back, feeling for the first time that day that everything was going to be okay. "Thanks again for being my tutor. I really appreciate it."

"Stop thanking me," he groaned. "That's what friends are for, right?"

(Y/N) beamed at him but before she could respond, Talbott placed the small pot he had been fiddling with into her free hand. (Y/N) blinked at it, staring down at the single flower in front of her.

"There's a pretty flower for you. It's called a Moly."

(Y/N) just continued to stare down at the black stemmed, white petal flower, utterly speechless. Did Talbott Winger just give her a flower?

"It can counteract enchantments if you eat it."

(Y/N) gasped and pulled the pot defensively close. "No one is touching this flower, let alone eating it. You green thumbs are weirdos." She brushed the soft petals gently with her thumb. "How did you make it so fast?"

"I used to help my mom plant them all the time. They're really valuable to Healers, it's no big deal."

"It is to me." (Y/N) looked down at her flower admiringly. "So, how do I not kill it?"

Talbott laughed. "All it needs is water a couple times a week."

"Low maintenance, I like it. You know what, this is better than a friendship bracelet."

Talbott groaned again and started toward the door. "You're ridiculous."

"What? I finally have proof of our friendship," (Y/N) said, grinning.

"You know I'll deny it if anyone asks."

"I know." She glanced down at the flower again, unable to stop the flutters in her stomach. "Hey Talbott, would you show me how to plant this sometime?"

Talbott paused for a minute before briefly glancing over his shoulder at her and nodding. "Sure."

(Y/N)'s stomach flipped and she held the plant tight to her chest. She could definitely get used to having this new Herbology tutor.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Mindful Confrontation

Written as a request from @heavy-metal-papillon who not only supplied the requested plot but creatively reconstructed the song Confrontation from Jeckyll and Hyde to fit the context of the story. This was a lot of fun to write, thank you for requesting it! I hope it fits what you had in mind.

Summary: Thomas' friends convince him to check out a new karaoke bar and encourage him to perform. Technical difficulties make improv imperative for the show to go on but can singing really settle the warring landscape?

Warnings: anxiety induced spiraling thoughts, if there are more please let me know

Ships: none

WC: 2, 389

The bar is loud as Thomas makes his way to an empty booth lead expertly by Joan and Talyn. Nerves twisted in his gut as he took in how large it actually was on the inside, the stage set up for karaoke sitting front and center with the tables placed strategically so no ones view would be blocked. He took a deep breath as he settled himself on the cushioned bench, reminding himself that he needed this.

It had been Joan's idea initially, taking him to a karaoke bar to loosen up after the stress they'd both been under lately. Supposedly they served good food and the regular performers were worth the watch.

"Sing if you want." Joan had said. "Everyones really nice and would love to hear someone new onstage."

Thomas glanced at them now, happily skimming through the menu and pointing things out to Talyn who nodded along as best they could over the noise. It seemed like the performing wouldnt be starting for a while yet...which reminded him...

"I'm gonna go sign up, be back in a minute." Joan looked up and smiled, they and their date mate giving enthusiastic thumbs up. Turning with a grin, Thomas straightened his shirt and made his way over to the side stage where a small line had already started forming.

-------

In the mindscape, Janus sat on the couch a little ways away from a pouting Roman, watching Virgil fidget endlessly with the sleeves of his hoodie and wear a literal hole in the floor with his pacing. Being in someone's head was an odd thing at times.

"You can't possibly expect us to do this! Theres so many people we dont know hear!"

"Wouldn't that be beneficial to us? There's a good chance this is the first and last time wed see any of them." Janus replied smoothly.

Ignoring him, Virgil continued on. "What if Thomas's voice cracks? What if the song glitches and he's left singing with no music and then it picks up and it'll be out of sync and he freezes because it's confusing and everyone laughs? What if we don't know the lyrics as well as we thought we did and the screen cuts out and we forget the song and everyone laughs? What if we try to move around and trip because the stage is unfamiliar and we fall off and break our neck and the last thing we ever did was sing a shitty song at a shitty bar and-"

"Everyone laughs?" Janus finished dryly.

"Why would someone laugh at our death? What are you trying to say you vile vindictive villain?!" Roman leapt from the couch making Virgil flinch as a samurai sword appeared in his hand to point at the deceitful side.

"Vindictive? The only revenge I'm seeking today is on whoever decided the shirt Thomas is wearing should be seen in public after having worn it two days in a row already."

"We were in a hurry and he barely wore it in those two days since he spent most of them sleeping! It's fine!"

"We already wore the shirt?! What if people can tell it hasn't been washed? What if someone sees the wrinkles and decides we're an unclean slob? What if-"

"Virgil! Breathe please." At the reminder Virgil began his standard breathing exercise as Janus poked the tip of the sword still pointing at his face and lowered it to a non threatening level. "And Roman, do keep waving around a dangerous weapon it totally isn't making Virgil's anxiety worse."

Grumbling Roman snapped the sword back out of existence and plopped back down on the couch. Sighing Janus tuned back into what Thomas was doing just as he was looking through the song list. A song leapt out at him almost immediately, making Janus send the suggestion quietly to their manifestor for consideration, smiling as it was chosen and they began walking back towards the booth.

"I believe you'll like the choice in song Roman. Perhaps you can vent a bit."

Raising an eyebrow Roman quickly concentrated to bring himself up to speed on what had transpired while he was sulking.

"A little on the nose isn't it?" Virgil paused his pacing at Roman's snide remark, tilting his head in question.

"Jeckyll and Hyde's Confrontation?" That's technically a duet right? How the hell is that going to work?"

"I'm sure Roman can manage. Unless he wants one of us to help?" Janus peered out from under the rim of his hat at the side on question who was currently scowling over at him.

"Why don't you both help sing it? That way you can both work out whatever it is you need to. Roman's good on stage and Janus...you know the musical right? Oh God you do know it right because if you just picked it at random-"

"Relax Fidget and Hide it'll be fine." Roman scowl turned smug at the word play that Virgil didn't bother responding to, instead shooting Janus a final panicked glanced before going back to...well...fidgeting.

------

Thomas fidgeted in the booth nervously, making Talyn glance over in worry.

"You okay? It's a pretty big crowd, you can still back out if it makes you nervous."

Thomas felt a sliver of false reassurance curl around his tongue, opening his mouth almost against his will as he smiled convincingly.

"I'm fine really. It is a big crowd, but I feel like this will be good for me you know?"

"Yeah man, you really need to get out more." Joan flashed him a smile that let Thomas know he was mostly kidding, which he appreciated. Breathing deep he reminded himself to thank Janus later. A fleeting feeling of gratitude that wasn't his own welled in his chest and he smiled to himself. Message recieved apparently.

The performers were great, some obvious regulars and some anxious newbies but the mix didn't dampen his enjoyment in the slightest. As the music swelled around him he felt himself relaxing, grinning as someone started in on an Evenescence song that he knew would appeal to his youngest side. He could imagine the emo sitting in all his glory wherever they went when not manifested in front of him. As they got further down the list however his nerves began to fray. Any moment now his name would be called and he'd have to go onstage in front of so many new faces and he'd done it before but that had been performances and this was a bar and-

"Thomas." He whipped his head around to see Joan pointing at the stage. "They called your name! Break a leg!"

Smiling nervously, he stood and quickly made his way to the stage, wiping sweaty palms on his already sweaty jeans to a smattering of applause as the audience realized the person who was called was about to go on.

Just imagine them naked. Impatiently he shook the Intrusive thought away and zeroed in on the blank screen. A tech worker jogged up to him and his heart dropped. Surely not-

"I apologize but we've been having problems with the screen lately and it stopped working for the night. You're welcome to use your phone or forfeit if you'd be uncomfortable."

A sudden surge of confidence had words spilling of their own accord, barely there panic twisting his stomach. "It's okay. I can handle it."

The music began low and he drew in a steadying breath, opening his mouth where he knew the lyrics started.

------

"The screen died? What kind of hellscape is this?! I told you, I said what if the screen dies though I guess it didnt happen while we were singing but still! Do you even know the lyrics?" Roman shrugged where he stood in front of the couch, unfazed by circumstance.

"We'll figure it out Nightmare on Emo Street, calm down."

"Figure it-what do you mean you'll figure it out?"

The music started and Roman simply took a stance and began to sing, the sorrowful tone matched by his deep base vibrating the mind scape pleasantly.

"It’s over now, from what I know.

This world’s not what it seems.

It hurts that he would stoop so low.

A fatal blow for one poor dashing Prince."

Janus raised an eyebrow as he sat up straighter. Improv. Impressive. Beside him, Virgil groaned and hid his face, seemingly content to wait out whatever horror he percieved this to be.

"They do not see my tragedy,

Do not see my intent.

The stain of this snake’s evil

Would forever kill the good we all had meant."

Janus narrowed his eyes as Roman turned to him fully, the intent and purpose of the lyrics clear to him now as the Prince lamented on.

"Am I a good man?

Am I a bad man?

Eternal question. But will the answer ever…?"

The last note lingered as Janus stood. Fine, he thought. If this is how he wants to play it, I'll give him something to kick at.

"Do you really think

That I would ever let this go?

Do you think without me he’ll be free?"

He smirked knowingly as Roman stepped back, twisting Hyde's words into something closer to himself to throw back.

"If you do, I’m sad to say

It simply isn’t so.

You will never block his life from me!"

Roman glared and stood straighter, sweeping his arm as if to banish the other from his sight.

"All that he needs is to look in a mirror.

Good, honest life – and you’ll disappear!"

"I was the one who did give him that mirror,

So, I’m afraid, I will still be here."

"All that you’ll do is make our life a nightmare,

All you’ll achieve is high self-esteem!

All that I wanted for him – to chase his dream!"

Janus grimaced as he caught sight of angry tears gathering in Roman's eyes. Hardening his resolve, he clenched his fists to glare right back, refusing to back down from what this simple karaoke had become.

"Will you ever catch it, friend?

This chase will never end!

His procrastination still goes on!

So, I want to stay,

No matter how you may object!

I can give him power to move on."

His tone begged to be listened to, pleading eyes catching the royals in an effort to make him understand. He took a step back as a sword was once again pressed alarmingly close to his face.

"Soon you’ll slip up and deceive us all over!

We can’t allow you to have control!"

"Roman, hold on, move your train of thought slower,

For all I know, we’re all parts of his soul."

"He doesn’t need you to live, like he needs me,

He can be whole with no selfish snake!

Getting rid of you will be a piece of cake!"

His staff materialized in his hand as he brought it sweeping down to catch the blade safely in its crook, slamming the tip down into the floor as he delivered the next verse.

"I’ll stay among you forever!"

"No!" Roman desperately tugged at his weapon, gritting his teeth as it refused to budge.

With a sweep of his arm the sword was free from the floor, twisting in the air before crashing beside the couch, staff now jabbed painfully close to Roman's face. "Keep in mind that I earned my seat."

"No!" Roman lunged, but Janus hooked his arm and dragged him to the side with minimal effort.

"And I’ll make it my new endeavor

To guide him and prove to you all that

I’m more than Deceit!" Stalking forward, the staff's crook was jammed under Roman's chin as he stared down at him backed into a wall, eyes wide but devoid of fear as he seemed to consider the words before shaking them off.

"Will you stop? It’s

Over now! It’s time to go!"

Roman grabbed the staff and yanked it sideways, making Janus lose his grip and stumble to come face to face with his adversary.

Smirking he bowed low. "Oh no, no, after you!"

"If I go you'll go too!"

"I’ll just shapeshift and I’ll be you."

"No! Deciet, leave him be!"

"Can’t you see? He needs me!"

"No! Stop this fight!"

"I'm his side! I won't hide!"

"No never!"

"Yes forever!"

"Give up, you snake! Crawl back to whatever hole you came from!" Roman shoved forward and practically snarled out his last line, towering over a fallen Janus.

"You’ll get there too, Roman." Hat swept somewhere unknown he simply stared at the other, chests heaving in sync as the anger finally eased, if only by a fraction.

A chuckle bubbled up in his chest, starting Roman who took a second to consider him before a grin split his face as well. The tension snapped as laughter filled the space between them, Roman doubling over as tears dripped down his face.

"What the hell did we just do?"

Janus cackled and shook his head. "Created a masterpiece that's going to raise questions I'm sure."

"Hey you morons, you do realize you had Thomas sing that right? You're weird venty improv was just projected to an entire bar!" They both looked up at Virgils outburst to see the side in question shaking on the couch, beside him a grinning Remus shoveling (popcorn?) into his mouth. Patton stood beside them starry eyed and smiling while Logan remained at the table with a questioning look that seemed to suggest he had missed most of the context for the scene in front of him. Janus and Roman spared eachother another look before bursting into another fit of laughter.

------

"Sooo....didn't know the song huh?" Joan asked curiously as Thomas sat down. At his head shake, they simply grinned. "The improv was seriously impressive though. Janus and Roman? Genius!"

Thomas grinned sheepishly as his nerves finally settled, his smile wavering as another set of emotions came forth he didn't recognize.

"Hey, you okay?"

A feeling of peace settled over him like a blanket of fresh snow, crisp and clean as his mind cleared for what felt like the first time in weeks. A genuine smile stretched across his face as he answered.

"Yeah. Yeah, you know what? I'm great actually." He sat back and relaxed, looking at Talyn and Joan in turn.

"I feel better."

This work along with other one shots is available on AO3!

[melissalfinch]

My Journey From Theism to Agnosticism

I’m going to explain to you a few reasons why religion no longer works for me with supportive quotes from Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Socrates, and Sigmund Freud among other cultural inspirations. This is not going to be about my personal, scandalous, and fabricated experiences in a controversial sex cult because I haven’t had any, but I have witnessed enough to convince myself and others that they do exist. I’m not going to get into the details of the ugly, mentally abusive conversations I’ve been a part of and overheard in various congregations from different faiths. You will not get to gawk in entertainment at my explicit memories of the self-doubt, shame, and brainwashing from what leaders referred to as healthy chastisement, which only led to self-deprecation, depression, and arrogance towards those who did not share my faith. I choose not to get into the heartbreaking details over my loss of friends and pets, and the damage it inflicted on my family relationships, job losses that resulted, and the regretful religion-based decisions that I made. I choose not to get into those details in order to keep my own tear ducts dry. Composing this article the way it’s going to be presented has already required a substantial amount of bravery, causing months of procrastination and even nausea as I type.

With that stated, let’s get down to it. After reading two very informative books on agnosticism and atheism, The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins and God Is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens, both world-renowned atheists, and watching a some of their debates, I’ve been able to pull out profound quotes that I can relate to from my very core and which support my own theories that question faith and that question the health of adopting a religion.

First off, I’m going to discuss the subject of preaching. I am convinced that people use others to solidify their own faith by bringing them on board and plugging into their heads the conviction they lack. In their passionate preaching efforts, it seems that they are trying to convince themselves more than anyone else. In the Bhagavad-Gita, Krsna says to Arjuna that Krsna will carry in other devotees what they lack, but I have found in most preaching efforts that religious followers are attempting to force into others what they themselves lack.

Let’s consider the subject of death for a detailed example. In Dawkins’ book The God Delusion, he points out:

  “Polls suggest 95 percent of the population of the US believe they will survive their own death. I can’t help but wonder how many people who claim such belief really, in their hearts, hold it. If they were truly sincere, shouldn’t they all behave like the Abbot of Ampleforth? When Cardinal Basil Hume told him that he was dying, the abbot was delighted for him: ‘Congratulations! That’s brilliant news. I wish I was coming with you.’”

It surely has to make you wonder: are people insincere with their religion or more fearful of the process of death? Dawkins elaborates further on the subject by saying: 

  “It is a striking fact that if you meet someone opposed to mercy killing, or passionately against assisted suicide, you can bet a good sum they’ll turn out to be religious. Why deem it a sin if you sincerely believe you are accelerating a journey to heaven?”  

Hitchens further exemplifies my point in his book by recalling how, when he was thirteen, the headmaster of his grade school in Dartmoor, England, said to him during a no-nonsense conversation: 

  “You may not see the point of all this faith now, but you will one day when you start to lose loved ones.”

Hitchens concludes: 

  “Why that would be as much as saying that religion might not be true, but nevermind that, since it can be relied upon for comfort.” 

Which brings me to a question we should all ask ourselves: what’s more important, truth or comfort? I confess I still do not have a firm answer to that question, but I will say in my own modest attempt at wisdom, if you rely on something that may not necessarily be true but gives you comfort, down the road you will be more likely to question that very thing. Such doubt makes your comfort temporary and can have a reverse effect, often resulting in anger and regret.

To further support this theory, I’ll use what I found as a profound statement according to Hitchens’ take on Freud in The Future Of An Illusion, where he describes the religious impulse as:

  “essentially ineradicable until or unless the human species can conquer its fear of death and its tendency to wish- thinking.” 

The idea of practicing a religion out of fear and daydreaming simply no longer sits well with me nor others who tell me they have had similar experiences and have decided to leave religion behind. However, the group of atheists and agnostics I relate to is still in the minority, and many are afraid to admit it in a world still governed by religion.

In addition to specious faiths revealed through preaching and fears of death, we can also see that those pious leaders who chastise their congregations for sins and offenses are often the most guilty and ashamed of committing the same proclaimed abominations.

  “The policeman who lashes the whore has a hot need to use   her for the very offense for which he plies the leash.”             (Shakespeare, King Lear) 

I do not need to exhaust the hypocritical details of the acts of religious figures and dogmas to prove my point. You can spend hours and hours of your own time researching documents from various Judeo-Christian faiths criminalizing clergymen and other supposed divinely proclaimed leaders who have committed the same unspeakable crimes for which they condemn their flock.

After watching the 2019 film The Two Popes starring Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce, I heard Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio (played by Pryce), who wishes to resign as archbishop, sadly admit, “The bigger the sinner, the warmer the welcome,” as if to poorly justify the behavior of imperfect people.

Now the question often arises, do we fight it? Do we fight organized religion the way organized religion has fought among itself in a similar sectarian manner? Nineteenth century German poet, writer, and literary critic Heinrich Heine, whose many works have been banned by German authorities, says in his work Gedanken Und Einfälle (Thoughts And Ideas): 

  “In dark ages people are best guided by religion, as in a pitch-black night a blind man is the best guide; he knows the roads and paths better than a man who can see. When daylight comes, however, it is foolish to use blind old men as guides. 

Shouldn’t we use our knowledge of science to advance and not simply rely on fairy tales and fiction for all the answers?”

Marx critiques Hegel’s Philosophy Of Right by saying:

  “Religious distress is at the same time the expression of real distress and the protest against real distress. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, just as it is the spirit of a spiritless situation. It is the opium of the people.” 

Surely we can admit the dangers of such an addictive drug.

In perhaps my favorite bold and simple statement on the matter, Hitchens paraphrases Socrates when he says:

  “I do not know for certain about death and the gods but I am certain as I can be that you do not know either.” 

I also reject the arrogance of such people who insist on the validity of their holy scriptures no matter how polite and endearing their character may seem during their attempts to persuade. 

Hitchens concludes in his book God Is Not Great:

  “Know the enemy and prepare to fight it.” 

In conclusion, I refer to Deborah Feldman’s autobiographical memoir, Unorthodox: the Scandalous Rejection Of My Hasidic Roots, on which the limited Netflix series Unorthodox is based. Ester Shapiro, remarkably played by Shira Haas, explains when asked why she left her Hasidic Jew tradition, “God expected too much of me. Now I need to find my own path.”  

My tears flowed during the viewing of that moment. For me, it has also been a painful process for my faith to change and to leave something I once felt so sure about. I often say that I broke up with God because the interrogation and grief I’ve received from others can easily be compared to a long breakup with a significant other.

In The Two Popes, Pope Benedict XVI, played by Anthony Hopkins, is also considering leaving his faith. He says, “I no longer wish to be a salesman.” The outreach conversion programs in the congregations in which I participated with always made me feel like I needed a shower.

In another conversation, Hopkins’ Pope states, “Change is compromise.”

Later on he admits, “The hardest thing is to listen, to hear God’s voice.” Whoever really hears God’s voice?”

One last quote I’ll share from Hitchens:

  “God did not create man in his own image. Evidently, it was the other way about, which is the painless explanation for the profusion of gods and religions, and the fratricide both between and among faiths, that we see all about us and that has so retarded the development of civilization.” 

Through my own life experiences, I’ve really seen the faults in humanizing our creator, this God we all talk about. People have let me down, broken my heart, misled me, misinformed me, betrayed me, violated me, and manipulated me. As I progressed in following a religion that egotistically humanizes God, I found their God also disappointing me, breaking my heart and misinforming me.

I find more ease in life simply not having all the answers, but enjoying wonderment in the science of nature simply for the sake of wonderment. As someone close to me once said:

  “Dragonflies are more fascinating than gods.”