#i’ve just been feeling a ton of mixed emotions lately. i’m not doing too well

[bananacat76]

i miss talking to my friends

[lila-lou]

✨Obsessed - Pt. 5✨

Summary: After weeks of searching, you finally found Dean. However, he was no longer the man you had been in love with- but more importantly, no longer the man who never returned your love. Because now, in his twisted state, he was somehow obsessed with you.

Pairing: Dean x PregnantReader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, fluff, Pregnancy

Word Count: 5586

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

That’s when you came out of the bedroom, dressed again in a fresh, cozy matching set. The smell of food had woken you, and you rubbed your eyes as you walked into the living room, slightly confused to see Sam and Dean deep in conversation. Sam looked up and smiled at you, breaking the tension.

“Hey, Y/N”, Sam greeted warmly. “I brought food and a ton of vitamins”, He shook out the bag from the pharmacy, showing off the variety of supplements he had picked up for you.

You smiled, feeling a mix of gratitude and awkwardness. “Thanks, Sam. That’s really thoughtful of you”.

Dean watched you closely, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and apprehension. He had just made a big confession to Sam, and now he needed to show you that he meant every word.

“I figured you might be hungry, and you could use the extra nutrients”, Sam said, gesturing to the vitamins.

You chuckled softly, moving to sit at the table. “You’re right, I’m starving. Thanks, Sam”.

As you began to eat, you felt Dean’s gaze on you. It was persistent, almost burning with unspoken words. After a while, Sam excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and Dean alone at the table. You turned towards him, your frustration evident.

“What?”, you asked, slightly annoyed, putting down your fork. “Why do you keep staring at me?”.

Dean looked taken aback, fumbling for words. “I think we should—”.

“Please, Dean, don’t”, you cut him off, your voice pleading. “We don’t need to talk. I know what you’re going to say. It’s been a mistake, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, blah blah. I’m not hurt, Dean. I know where we stand. We’re trying to accept each other back into our lives for the baby, but we can’t be together. I know that”.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “I just… I was horny, okay? I’m seven months pregnant and I’ve been horny for days. So… I wanted to have sex. It’s that simple. I won´t fall in love with you again, okay? Don worry”.

Dean looked at you, a mixture of surprise and guilt in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, unsure of what to say. Then his brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you used me? For… my dick?”, he asked, his tone a mix of incredulity and bemusement.

You sighed, feeling your frustration rise again. “Dean, I just needed release. I didn’t mean to complicate things or make you feel used. It was just… what I needed at the moment”. You lied, of course you lied.

Dean’s expression softened slightly, but the confusion remained. “I just want to understand, Y/N. You mean it didn’t mean anything to you?”.

You shook your head, trying to find the right words. “It’s not that it didn’t mean anything. It’s just that I know we can’t be together. We have to be realistic about this. We need to focus on the baby and figure out how to co-parent without me getting my emotions tangled up”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he looked down at the table. “Huh”, he said quietly. Then, in a softer, almost bitter tone, he mumbled, “So this is how women feel all the time, huh? Guess I’m getting a taste of my own medicine".

Dean had always been the one in control, the one who could separate his emotions from his actions. But now, it was different. He had finally started to understand his feelings for you, but it seemed like he was too late. You had moved on, or at least convinced yourself that you had.

Dean forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I guess I’ve learned my lesson”, he said, attempting to joke. “Who knew I’d be the one getting used for a change?”.

You managed a small smile in return, though your heart ached. Of course, you weren’t over Dean. You probably never would be. But hearing him talk about how it was a mistake or anything like that was something you just couldn’t handle right now.

“Yeah, guess the tables have turned”, you replied, trying to keep the conversation light.

Dean tried to keep the conversation going, asking you about the baby, your plans, and how you were feeling. It was clear he was making an effort to be involved, to show you that he cared.

You appreciated his efforts, even if it was hard to fully trust his intentions just yet. The fact that he was trying, though, meant a lot.

When Sam returned from the bathroom, he sensed the shift in the atmosphere. He sat down, joining in on the conversation and helping to keep things light and comfortable. For the first time in a long while, it felt like you were all moving towards some semblance of normalcy.

“So, how’s the food?”, Sam asked, looking between the two of you with a knowing smile.

“It’s good, thanks”, you replied, grateful for the distraction. “Exactly what I needed”.

Dean took another bite of his food, then looked up at you with a curious expression. “So, do you know the gender already?”, he asked, his tone casual but clearly interested.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “No, I wanted to keep it a secret. I thought it would be nice to have a surprise”.

Dean’s face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a playful glint in his eye. “Aw, come on! You don’t want to know if it’s a mini-Dean or mini-you? I’m dying to find out”.

You laughed softly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “I thought about finding out, but then I decided against it. It’s one of the few surprises in life that’s actually good”.

Dean pretended to pout, but there was genuine amusement in his eyes. “You’re killing me here. How am I supposed to prepare if I don’t know what color to paint the nursery?”.

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide your amusement. “Nursery? Dean, we haven’t even figured out the basics yet”.

Dean grinned, pushing past the sting of your rejection with his usual charm. “Well, how about you just come home again, and we can figure everything out together?”, he teased.

You raised both eyebrows at his audacity, a mix of amusement and incredulity crossing your face. “You’re really something, you know that?”, you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the complicated feelings swirling inside you.

Dean shrugged, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just saying, it’d make things a lot easier. Plus, I can help with midnight cravings and nursery painting. Think of it as a team effort”.

Sam rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “Dean, maybe ease up a bit. It’s a lot to take in”.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m just throwing ideas out there”.

Dean’s expression turned more serious as he looked at you, the playful grin fading slightly. “But seriously, Y/N, I really do want you back in the bunker. I want to know that you and the baby are safe”.

You felt a pang of emotion at his words, recognizing the sincerity behind them. Despite everything, Dean’s concern for you was genuine. “Dean, I appreciate that. I really do. But coming back isn’t just a simple decision. There’s a lot we need to work through first”.

Dean nodded, understanding the weight of your words. “I know, and I’m willing to put in the work. I just want to be a part of your life, and the baby’s life. We can figure out the rest as we go”.

Sam chimed in, trying to ease the tension. “Look, we don’t have to decide everything right now. Let’s just take it one step at a time. You’re welcome to stay with us, or we can help you here. Whatever makes you feel comfortable”.

You sighed, feeling the weight of their concern and the decisions you had to make. “Thanks, Sam. Just let me sleep on it for one night, okay? I need some time to think”.

Dean bit his lip, his eyes still fixed on you, filled with a mixture of hope and anxiety. Sam, sensing the tension build again, smiled softly. “Well, I never thought I would actually become an uncle to a nephew I actually know”, he said, glancing at Dean. “I mean, considering your countless one-night stands…”.

Dean chuckled, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, I guess this one’s a bit different, huh?”.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, the brothers’ banter bringing a sense of normalcy back to the conversation. “You both are something else".

Sam grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, we try”.

Over the next few days, Dean’s persistence and genuine concern slowly wore down your reservations. Despite your initial reluctance, you couldn’t deny the benefits of having him and Sam close, especially with the baby on the way. Before long, you found yourself packing your things and returning to the bunker.

The transition wasn’t as difficult as you feared. Dean and Sam went out of their way to make you feel comfortable and at home. It wasn’t perfect, but a routine began to form, one that made you feel more secure and supported.

A week had passed since your return, and you were starting to see how things could work out. Dean was involved and attentive, and his excitement about the baby was palpable. Today, you had a doctor’s appointment at your new office, and you decided to ask Dean if he wanted to join you.

“Dean”, you called, finding him in the kitchen. “I have a doctor’s appointment today. Do you want to come with me?”.

Dean looked up from his coffee, a broad smile spreading across his face. “Absolutely, I’d love to”, he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

A few hours later, the two of you were sitting in the waiting room. Dean fidgeted slightly, his eagerness and nervousness evident. “I’ve never been to one of these before”, he admitted, trying to play it cool.

You smiled, placing a reassuring hand on his. “It’s just a check-up. They’ll make sure everything’s going well with the baby and me”.

When the nurse called your name, Dean stood up quickly, almost knocking over his chair in his haste. You chuckled softly, leading the way into the examination room. The doctor greeted you both warmly and began the routine checks, asking questions about your health and how you’d been feeling.

Dean watched intently, his eyes never leaving the ultrasound screen. When the image of your baby appeared, his breath caught in his throat. The doctor pointed out the baby’s heartbeat, the tiny movements, and explained everything in detail.

“Wow”, Dean whispered, his voice filled with awe. “That’s our baby”.

You nodded. “Yeah, that’s our baby”.

The doctor smiled at Dean´s reaction, then turned to you both. “Everything looks great. The baby is healthy and growing well. Do you want to know the gender?”.

Dean’s smile faltered slightly, remembering that you had wanted to keep the gender a secret. He looked at you, his eyes questioning. You met his gaze and saw the mix of excitement and hesitation in his eyes.

With a small smile, you nodded. “Yes, we’d like to know”.

Dean’s face lit up with joy and surprise. He squeezed your hand, his excitement bubbling over. The doctor turned the screen slightly so you both could see more clearly.

The doctor chuckled, pointing at the screen. “Well, that’s certainly no leg”, she said with a smile, indicating a small but unmistakable detail.

Dean’s eyes widened, his face lighting up with pure joy. “A boy?”, he asked, his voice a mix of awe and excitement.

You felt a surge of emotion, tears welling up in your eyes. “We’re having a boy”, you whispered, the reality of it sinking in.

Dean leaned in, kissing your forehead gently. “A boy”, he repeated, his voice filled with wonder. “We’re having a son”.

Your heart skipped a beat as Dean kissed your forehead, his touch filled with tenderness and love. The reality of the moment settled over you both, bringing a wave of emotions. Dean’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he started to ramble.

“I’m gonna teach him everything, Y/N”, Dean said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “How to fix cars, hunt mons-… well, maybe not that part right away—but, you know, the important stuff. How to ride a bike, play baseball. We’ll do all of it”.

You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of his excitement. “He’s going to be one lucky kid”, you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “And he’s going to have the best dad in the world”.

Dean’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand still resting on your belly. “And he’s got the best mom already”, he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

The doctor finished the ultrasound, printing out a few pictures for you to keep. As you left the office, Dean kept looking at the photos, a big grin on his face. He was practically radiating happiness, and it was contagious.

Back at the bunker, Sam was waiting anxiously for news. When he saw your faces, he knew immediately that it was good news. “Well?”, he asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Dean grinned stupidly, pulling an ultrasound picture out of his pocket and handing it to Sam. “Look at that”, Dean said, pointing to the unmistakable detail on the image. “Baby’s taking right after his old man”.

Sam looked at the picture, then back at Dean, and burst out laughing. “Oh, geez, Dean. Already comparing?”.

Dean shrugged, a playful smirk on his face. “Hey, can’t help it. It’s in the genes”.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at their antics. “Okay, boys, let’s not get too carried away”, you said, taking the picture back from Sam.

Dean quickly snatched the picture out of your hands. “Nuh uh, that’s mine”, he said with a grin. “You’ve got enough of these already”.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. But you better not lose it”.

Dean held the picture up like it was the most precious thing in the world. “Don’t worry, this one’s going in a frame. Right next to my bed”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down. “You know, Dean, you’re already the embarrassing dad, and the kid isn’t even born yet”.

Dean shrugged, unbothered by the teasing. “Hey, if I’m gonna be a dad, I might as well go all in, right?”.

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your heart at Dean’s enthusiasm. Despite everything, it was moments like this that reminded you of why you fell in love with him in the first place. His genuine excitement and commitment to being a good father made you believe that, together, you could make this work.

As the evening continued, the three of you spent time discussing plans for the nursery, potential baby names, and sharing stories about your own childhoods. The conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of normalcy and hope.

Later that evening, when Sam was already asleep, Dean wandered into your bathroom, laptop in hand, and a furniture online shop for babies open on the screen. He was about to ask you which color you preferred for the nursery when he saw what you were doing. You stood there in front of the mirror, wearing only your panties, lotion on your hands as you gently rubbed your belly.

Both of you froze slightly, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the moment. Dean’s eyes softened as he took in the sight of you, the glow of the bathroom light highlighting your pregnancy in a way that made his heart swell with emotion.

“Sorry”, he mumbled, breaking the silence, “I didn’t mean to interrupt”.

You gave him a small smile, your cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. “It’s to prevent stretch marks”, you mumbled, looking down at your lotion-loaded hands.

Dean took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Do you… uhm.. want some help?”, he asked softly, his voice full of genuine care and concern.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, handing him the bottle of lotion. Dean took it from you, squeezing some into his hands before rubbing them together. He moved behind you, his hands gently gliding over your belly, applying the lotion with careful, soothing strokes.

The warmth of his touch and his closeness sent shivers down your spine, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to relax into the moment. Dean’s hands moved with a tenderness that made your heart ache with both love and longing.

“You’re doing great, you know”, Dean murmured, his voice low and comforting. “For a twenty-one-year-old, you’re handling this situation pretty well”.

His hands continued their slow, soothing movements, inching upwards as he applied more lotion. His gaze shifted through the mirror, lingering on your swollen breasts. There was an intensity in his eyes, a mixture of admiration and desire that made your breath catch.

You felt your cheeks flush again, a warm, tingling sensation spreading through you. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, yet it felt strangely comforting. Dean’s touch was both tender and reassuring, grounding you in a way that made you feel safe and cherished.

His hands moved a bit higher, grazing the underside of your breasts, and you shivered at the touch. The sensation was both soothing and electrifying, stirring a desire that you had tried to keep at bay.

“Dean…”, you began again, your voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing.

He paused, his eyes locking onto yours in the mirror. “Do you want me to stop?”.

You shook your head slightly, your heart pounding. “No. I just… it feels… good”.

Dean’s lips curved into a small, tender smile. “Good”, he whispered, his hands resuming their gentle caresses. “Just tell me if it’s too much”.

You nodded, your body relaxing into his touch as he continued to massage the lotion into your skin. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the warmth of his hands, made you feel closer to him than ever before.

Dean leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder. His breath was warm against your skin, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine. He nestled his face against your back, hiding his face, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands continued their journey upwards, finally reaching your breasts. He cupped them gently, his fingers squeezing ever so slightly.

You let out a soft gasp, the combination of his touch and the intimacy of the moment overwhelming your senses. Your body arched slightly, pressing into his hands, seeking more of the comforting pressure. Dean responded by increasing the intensity of his touch, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples.

“Dean…”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and vulnerability.

“I’ve got you”, he murmured against your skin, his lips trailing soft kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. “Just relax”.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the sensations. Dean’s hands moved with a tender confidence, exploring your body with a reverence that made your heart ache. The warmth of his touch, combined with the softness of his kisses, created a cocoon of safety and affection around you.

As his hands continued to caress your breasts, you felt a growing warmth between your legs. The intimacy of the moment, the closeness and connection, was stoking a fire within you that was impossible to ignore.

“Dean, I…”, you began, struggling to find the words to express the swirling emotions inside you.

He paused, lifting his head to look at you in the mirror. “What is it, Y/N?”, he asked gently, his eyes filled with concern and love.

“I need you”, you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

That was all Dean needed to hear. He kissed your shoulder again, his touch firm but gentle as he guided you toward the sink. His hands pressed softly against your back, urging you to bend over slightly. You complied, your hands gripping the edge of the sink for support as you leaned forward.

Dean positioned himself behind you, his hands sliding down your sides, his touch sending shivers of anticipation through you. He pressed a kiss to the small of your back, his breath warm against your skin, before he straightened up and moved closer.

The intimacy of the moment was heightened by the reflection in the mirror, allowing you to see every movement, every expression. Dean’s eyes were dark with desire as he met your gaze in the mirror, his hands steady as they caressed your hips.

“You’re so beautiful”, he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. He ran his fingers along the waistband of your panties, gently tugging them down until they fell to the floor. His hands returned to your hips, guiding you into position.

Dean’s gaze never left yours in the mirror as he reached down to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal and fabric shifting filling the intimate space. He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his erection, his eyes darkening with desire.

With a firm yet gentle grip on your hips, he positioned himself at your entrance, taking a moment to savor the anticipation. The heat between you was palpable, an electric connection that seemed to hum in the air.

He slowly pushed into you, the sensation of him filling you inch by inch making you gasp softly. The stretch was exquisite, a mixture of pleasure and intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Dean’s hands tightened on your hips, his breath hitching as he fully seated himself inside you.

For a moment, he stayed still, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. His eyes locked onto yours in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze reflecting the depth of his feelings.

“You okay?”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded, your breath coming in soft pants. “Yeah, I’m okay”, you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Dean’s movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust carefully measured to bring you both higher into a shared ecstasy. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the controlled power behind each movement. His eyes never left yours in the mirror, a silent communication of desire and connection passing between you.

As he moved within you, the sensation built gradually, a slow burn that spread through your body, intensifying with each thrust. Dean’s grip on your hips was firm but gentle, his fingers pressing into your flesh in a way that grounded you in the moment.

“Fuck, you feel amazing”, Dean murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. His words sent a shiver through you, adding another layer to the pleasure that was building inside you.

You arched your back slightly, pushing back against him, feeling him deeper. The angle intensified the sensations, and you moaned softly, your body responding instinctively to his movements. Dean’s hands slid up your sides, tracing the curve of your body before coming to rest on your breasts. He cupped them gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp.

“Dean”, you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve got you”, he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

Dean’s words sent a fresh wave of desire through you, and you shivered at the intimacy of his whisper. The connection between you was electric, every touch, every breath shared amplifying the intensity of the moment.

His rhythm was steady, his movements confident yet tender. Each thrust was deep and purposeful, building the pleasure slowly, allowing it to simmer and grow. You could feel every inch of him inside you, filling you completely, and the sensation was overwhelming in the best way.

Dean’s hands continued their exploration of your body, moving from your breasts to your sides, then down to your hips again. His touch was both possessive and gentle, as if he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin. He leaned in closer, his chest pressing against your back, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

His hands slid around to your front, one resting on your belly, a reminder of the life growing inside you, while the other moved lower, finding your clit with practiced ease.

You gasped at the added sensation, your body responding immediately to his touch. Dean’s fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, a delicious tension building inside you with every movement.

“Dean, please”, you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. The need in your voice was clear, and Dean responded with a renewed intensity.

His thrusts grew slightly faster, deeper, and his fingers on your clit moved with a focused precision. The combination was driving you wild, every nerve ending in your body alive with sensation. You could feel the pleasure building to a peak, a tidal wave of ecstasy that threatened to overwhelm you.

Dean’s eyes never left yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and filled with love. “Let go, Y/N”, he whispered, his voice a rough command.

With those words, you felt yourself tip over the edge. The orgasm crashed over you, a powerful wave of pleasure that left you trembling and gasping. Dean continued to move, drawing out your climax, his own breath coming in ragged gasps as he followed you into bliss.

You could feel him tense behind you, his grip on your hips tightening as he found his release. The sensation of him filling you, the warmth and connection, was almost too much to bear. You both rode the waves of pleasure together, your bodies perfectly in sync.

As the intensity began to fade, Dean’s movements slowed, his touch returning to a gentle caress. His lips brushed against your shoulder, trailing kisses up to your neck. You both stayed connected, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

Gently, he eased out of you, his hands still holding you close. He helped you turn around, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or regret. Seeing none, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and love. Dean’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, his touch grounding you.

“You´re okay?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. Better than okay”.

Dean’s eyes softened, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “Need help getting cleaned up?”, he whispered, his voice tender and caring.

You shook your head, still smiling. “No, I think I can manage. Thanks”.

Dean nodded, slowly pulling his jeans back up and fastening his belt. He gave you one last, lingering kiss on your forehead before stepping back, allowing you some space. You turned towards the sink, taking a moment to catch your breath and gather yourself.

As you cleaned up, Dean quietly stepped out of the bathroom. He picked up the laptop and made his way to your bedroom, where he settled onto the edge of the bed, waiting for you. His thoughts raced, but he felt a sense of calm knowing that the intimacy you had just shared had brought you closer.

When you finished, you dried your hands and took one last look in the mirror, feeling a mixture of contentment and anticipation. You knew there were still many things to discuss and work through, but for the moment, you felt a sense of peace.

You walked into the bedroom, finding Dean sitting on the bed with the laptop open on his lap. He looked up as you entered, his eyes lighting up with a warm smile. “Feeling better?”, he asked softly.

You nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah, much better. Thanks”.

Dean’s eyes followed your movements as you got some pajamas and began dressing. He couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration for you. Even though he had never thought it was possible, seeing you carrying his baby made you even more beautiful in his eyes.

He marveled at the way you moved, the gentle curve of your belly, and the strength you showed in every action. It was a sight that filled him with a mixture of awe and pride.

As you pulled on your pajama top, you caught Dean watching you. His expression was soft and filled with an intensity that made your heart flutter. You smiled, feeling a warm blush rise to your cheeks. “What?”, you asked, your voice playful.

Dean shook his head, his smile widening. “Nothing”.

You sat down beside him, snatching the laptop off his lap and setting it aside. “Nothing, huh?”, you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Dean chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. “Okay, maybe not nothing”, he admitted, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’ve just been thinking… about everything. About us”.

You bit your lip, curious and slightly nervous about where this conversation was going. “What about us?”.

Dean hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he spoke up. “I’ve been wondering if we can handle this”, he said quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Just having sex and all that stuff without being in love with each other”.

His words hung in the air, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. You looked away, trying to gather your thoughts. It was a question you had been asking yourself too, but hearing it from Dean made it all the more real.

The truth was, you both had feelings for each other, but both of you thought the other didn’t feel the same way. It was a delicate dance of unspoken emotions, each of you afraid to take the first step. The uncertainty was maddening, but neither of you wanted to risk the fragile peace you just had found.

You sighed, looking back at Dean, your heart heavy with the weight of your unspoken feelings. “Maybe we should just wait and see”, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “Take things one day at a time and figure it out as we go”.

Dean nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and sadness. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. We don’t have to rush into anything. We’ll take it slow, see where things go”.

You both sat in silence for a moment, the uncertainty still lingering but tempered by a mutual understanding. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start.

After a while, you broke the silence, wanting to shift the focus to something more positive. “So, about those colors for the nursery”, you said, your voice soft but curious. “Do you want to show me what you’ve been looking at?”.

Dean’s face brightened at your question, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah”, he replied, grabbing the laptop again. He opened the tab he had left on, showing various color schemes and furniture options for the nursery.

You scooted closer to him, your shoulders touching as you both looked at the screen. Dean pointed out a few color combinations he liked, explaining why he thought they would be perfect for the baby’s room. You found yourself getting caught up in his excitement, the mundane task of choosing nursery colors providing a much-needed distraction from the heavier topics.

“What do you think of this one?”, Dean asked, showing you a soft, calming palette of light blues and greys with matching furniture. “I thought it’d be nice and soothing for the baby”.

You smiled, nodding in agreement. “I like it. It’s peaceful”.

Dean grinned, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Great!".

The evening stretched on, filled with laughter and light-hearted conversation. Dean’s presence, his dedication to making things work, and the simple act of planning for your baby’s all combined to create a sense of hope and possibility.

For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 6

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Taglist: @spnfamily-j2 @kr804573 @kylersgirlfriend34 @spncupcake @woooonau @winchesterwild78 @anacarolinadasf @suckitands33 @thesilmarillionblog @supernaturallyedsheeran @pizzagirlxnsfwx @riah1606 @hobby27 @lickmybalws @whimsyfinny

[xndrexcruz]

Love On The Line

✮- pairing: marc guiu x fem!reader

✮- summary: when a girl and a rising football star meet at an empty stadium to confront their troubling relationship, ultimately deciding to take a step back in hopes that their love will endure time and distance

✮- warnings: this story includes themes about relationship struggles and emotional stress

✮- author’s note: this is my first time writing angst, hope you like it

You stand near the edge of the pitch, the cool night air brushing against your cheeks making them a soft pink. The floodlights of the stadium cast long shadows, creating a surreal atmosphere around you. The stands are now completely empty, contrast to the roaring crowds that cheered loudly earlier. Your heart felt heavy as you stood waiting for him, trying to muster up enough courage to face him, to say what needed to be said.

Marc Guiu steps out of the tunnel, his silhouette familiar yet distant at the same time. He walks towards you with a confident stride, the same one that makes him such a force on the field. But tonight, there is something different in his eyes, a mix of concern and confusion filling his eyes. He’s always been the one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and tonight was no exception to that rule.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, stopping just a few feet away from where you had been standing. “What’s going on? Why did you want to meet me here?”

You took a deep breath in, trying to steady all your racing thoughts for once. “Marc, we need to talk.” You had paused before speaking again, “About us.”

He nods slowly at your words, his expression unreadable. “Okay. Talk to me then.”

You looked away from his eyes, struggling to meet his gaze. “It’s just been so complicated between us. One moment we’re together, and in the next, we’re pulling away from one another. I can’t figure out how to do this anymore.”

Marc runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you know all too well. “I know it’s been hard lately, but we can figure this out, Y/n, together. We always do in the end.”

You shook your head, tears starting to well up in your eyes. “But at what cost, Marc? Every single time we fight, it feels like we’re tearing apart little by little. I love you, I’m sorry… I don’t think I can keep doing this over and over again, I’m just so tired of it.”

He steps closer to you, his voice slightly trembling. “Don’t say that, please, Y/n. We can make this work, I know we can. We just need to talk this through, to really listen to each other.”

You swallow hard, the memories of your rollercoaster relationship flooding your mind. The late night arguments, the moments of pure happiness, the painful goodbyes that were followed by passionate reconciliations. You know he means everything he said, that he really believes in you both. But you’re not so sure if that’s enough anymore.

“I wish it were that simple, I really do,” you whisper. “But every time we try and fix things, somehow it gets messier than it already was. I don’t want to keep hurting you Marc. And I also don’t was to continue getting hurt all over again.”

Marc’s eyes are filled with a mix of sadness yet determination. “Y/n, I love you, so much. And I’m sorry for every time I’ve ever hurt you. But I’m not ready to give up on us. Not just yet.”

“You feel a tear escape down your cheek, and he reaches out to gently wipe it away for you. His touch is so familiar, comforting, loving, yet it also brings a fresh wave of pain. “Marc, I… I don’t know if lobe is enough anymore.”

He takes your cold hands into his warm ones, holding them tightly not letting go. “I know I’ve made a ton of mistakes. And trust me I know we’ve been through so much. But you mean everything and more to me. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work for us, just name it. Please, Y/n, please. Just don’t walk away.”

You close your eyes, struggling to come to a decision, you were hesitating. It was a mantra, a confession, a plea. And as much as you wanted to believe that things could possibly change, a part of you wonders if it’s too late to save your relationship.

When your eyes finally open, you see raw emotions in Marc’s face. You see the vulnerability, the hope he held. And for a moment, just a moment, you let yourself believe in the rare possibility of having a happy future together.

“Marc,” you say softly, “I love you too. I want you to know that. But we both need to take a step back, to really figure things out separately. Maybe some time part will help us see everything more clearly.”

You see that he looks like he’s about to protest, to try and change your mind, but he just nods slowly, feeling defeated, his eyes are understanding though. “If that’s really what you need, Y/n, then I’ll respect your wishes.” He took a breath before continuing, “But promise me one thing, just one.”

“Anything,” you whispered.

“Promise me that this isn’t goodbye. That we’ll find our way back to each other when we’re both ready.”

You nod, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the sadness surrounding you. “I promise.”

As you make your way out of the stadium, the weight of your decision finally settles over you. It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing that you’re doing what was best for not just you but him as well. And as the night air wraps around you once again, you hold on to the hole that someday, somehow, you will both find your way back to one another.

[lvlyhao]

PAC: what are your dreams telling you?

Hello, lovely people! Wow, this was SUCH a positive reading for all piles, I was honestly shocked, but good for y’all haha Also, I’ve been in an Ateez mood lately, so enjoy these beautiful men

♡ Please follow, like and reblog if this resonated with you so I can do more fun readings like this in the future. My paid comissions are open! ♡

How do I choose a pile?

Take a deep breath or two, close your eyes, and focus on the question we’re asking the cards today. Then, take a look at the images above. Which one of them calls your name?

───⋆☆───────────────

If you chose San, welcome to pile 1!

Song: treasure (ATEEZ)

Card: 10 of cups

Wow, ok. This is a very direct message here with both the song and the 10 of cups coming up. It looks like you may have been dreaming about your future with a certain someone lately. It does feel like someone you’ve known for a while, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re in union right now. I feel like they might be physically away from you too. It could be the case that they’re travelling or you just haven’t been spending time together. You could also be childhood friends, or maybe you know them from school. It’s like you’re spending your awake time wondering about all the “what if’s” that could come into your life if your relationship went into the next level, and this is actually an amazingly positive prospect. There is no greater emotional fulfillment than this card, my darlings. I’m honestly excited for you!

If you’ve been wondering whether to make a move or not, your dreams are straight up giving you the green light. Go for it! This is about an absolutely fantastic person, who is going to treasure you beyond what you could have ever imagined. They know your value and so do you, so the future you see for the two of you could very well happen in real life. If you know who Spirit is talking about here, I beg you to NOT be afraid of commitments with them. Now, if you’re not sure, it could be that your dreams about them haven’t happened just yet, but they will. Trust yourself and your heart at this moment.

If you chose Wooyoung, welcome to pile 2!

Song: i’m the one (ATEEZ)

Card: queen of cups

The Queen of cups came right out for you, pile 2, and I’m hearing a very clear message about the next few months. It could be that you haven’t been satisfied with where you are right now in life. This could be regarding your personal relationships, your work, studies, anything, really. You just feel stuck and like you can’t seem to feel good about yourself, and that’s fine. What this card is telling me, however, is that the time has come for you to show some compassion and love for yourself. In this case, that means getting your life together and cleaning up your act. The Queen beckons you to create your favorite version of yourself, and to not let past experiences define you anymore.

The past is the past. It’s quite literally water under the bridge, and what went away will not come back. Starting soon (when you feel ready) and from then on, you gotta treat yourself like the main character. You are the one!! You can be the person you’ve always wanted to be. That you already exists somewhere within. So hold your head high and decide where to start. If you’re looking for a physical glow up, this could mean working out and implementing more things to your diet, like fruits or vegetables. If you’re looking for a mental glow up, She advises tons of meditation and spending time outside to connect with the world around you. You are entering the best era of your life.

If you chose Hongjoong, welcome to pile 3!

Song: illusion (ATEEZ)

Card: temperance

My dears, it seems that you might be having quite a mixed bag of dreams and nightmares lately. Either that or you haven’t been feeling well-rested. The Temperance tells me you’re trying to balance out having fun and taking good care of your body and soul, but it’s been difficult. I get it. It’s easy to fall back into old habits while trying to build new ones, but don’t let that get you down.

What this card tells me is that you’re on the right path, and you’re doing the right thing. There’s no need to doubt that. What you do need, however, is to be more patient with yourself. Taking one or two steps back sometimes doesn’t mean you haven’t made any progress. The progress is still there, and it will start to show soon if you just persist. This could also be about manifesting, if you’re into that. Maybe you’ve been going back and forth between thinking ‘I got this’ and then spiraling, wondering why you don’t see any movement. I’m telling you right now: there IS movement. Don’t fall for the illusion that you’re doing it wrong! Getting out of your own head could also be good for you now. All this self-reflection sometimes makes us look inwards a bit too much, so spend some time with your friends, family, and/or pets.

[simplykorra]

I wanted to take a second today to make a little appreciation post. I mean, I should do it for every writer on Ao3 that I’ve loved, but it’s not easy to reach to all of them, so I’m starting here. I think I find you more relatable because just like you once wrote, I too have stumbled upon The 100 fanfiction (and Clexa in particular) like 6 years too late. I’ve spent the last year reading stories about them, and now I’m right back at the beginning again with Avatrice (yes you are incredibly right to suggest Warrior Nun, it’s wonderful)

But I don’t think I would have handled the past year so well if it hadn’t been for people like you. Because you meet this characters and you watch their story, and sometime you’re left with this pain and mixed emotions and you don’t know what to do. Quoting Fleabag, you don’t know what to do with all the love you feel for them. You don’t know where to put it.

and it can be very lonely. I’ve struggled a lot with loneliness this past year, because people around me do not get it. They do not get that sometimes it feel like grief, and you wish it could go away sooner but it doesn’t. All they can say is that it’s not normal, that it’s just fictional, it’s not real, even when for you it feels so. and I’m not mad at them for not getting it, I know it’s not easy to explain. But you just wish that they would accept it, you know? That if I said “I’m feeling down today because I thought about Clexa (or Avatrice or whoever it may be) again” they’d say “okay, do you want me to come over and cuddle for a bit?”

because I know they can’t make it go away, but feeling accepted and not alone? That’s all I ask for. But this year i struggled a lot because I realised I didn’t have those people in my life.

luckily I found them elsewhere. You, and all the others writers of this world, do so much for people like me.

you offer acceptance, support, love, to people you don’t even know. I could be having the worst day ever, feeling out of breath, then I come here, or on Ao3, and I breath again. It feels like there’s someone next to you saying “you’re okay, this, what you’re feeling, is okay”

I mean, I know it’s not therapy, but the comfort it gives is very close to it. today I’m feeling very emotional because of Avatrice, and then again Clexa, so it’s a mix of intense emotions. And it’s scary, because it feels like I’ll have to deal with it on my own again. but you’ve created a safe space, and that’s more than anyone has ever done for me. so thank you, for giving out oxygen when it feels like there is none. you are important, and special, and I’ll forever be grateful for you. to you, and to anyone like you that takes time to make us readers feel normal and not alone.

sending so much love.

Wow this is...I'm not even entirely sure how to respond to it. I will say I absolutely know what you mean about grieving for characters and the way it can stick with you and drag you down. I've been there, a few times. It's a big part of why I got into content creation in the first place.

I'll just say that this was an amazing way to start the day. This feels like the kind of message I can post and add myself to because there are a ton of creators and blogs and fics and spaces on here that have given me comfort in my life more than once.

So thank you for this, and I am sending the love you sent me right back. You're 100% not alone. We're all here in this emotional pit of fandom that is so wonderfully impossible to explain to most people.

[utilitycaster]

Hello I would love to hear you thoughts on Caduceus and his arc. Clay is the only character who’s story has made me cry genuine tears (when he got his fam back) and I feel like his nuances and the changes he goes through tend to be overlooked a lot, exactly because of how quietly they happen.

Of course!

So as Taliesin said a few times and as I've pointed out, Caduceus (and Molly for that matter) was intended to be a static character. Obviously this is an impossibility in D&D because things happen and you cannot control it and moreover I am sure Taliesin is aware of this, so it's more that the intent was to have a character who did not feel they needed to change, possibly in contrast with Percy, who absolutely felt he needed to change. A self-proclaimed static character still needs a reason to be static: Molly's philosophy was, as notably stated on talks, "Life's short...do something to a bagel" and more generally the lack of need for change came from this sort of aimless and benevolent-when-convenient hedonism. Caduceus, on the other hand, is secure in his purpose. He has known who he was supposed to be for his whole life, and he embraces it, and sees no reason to change, until he absolutely has to, and even then he is deeply reluctant.

Caduceus is about what happens when your comfort zone and guiding principles themselves fold in on each other and are like "hey. expand us or else."

I think a lot of people have rightfully noted that from his appearance through the Xhorhas arc, Caduceus sees the rest of the Nein as mourners, and that's within his comfort zone. Sure, there are some moral quandaries at the docks of Nicodranas, but he's able to get through that (in part because he's in the Mighty Nein but isn't personally stealing the ship, in part because of Jester's talk with him). I think it's also worth noting that while Caduceus is extremely insightful he is not superhuman (super firbolgian?) in that regard; it is the insight borne of being someone who is there for mourners and so he has a good eye for emotions, less so for motivations, and a lot of the Nein's motivations early on escape him.

The first wave of big changes happen in Bazzoxan and the immediate aftermath. First, Fjord confides in him and asks for advice - and Caduceus is used to giving advice but I'm not sure he's ever had to offer religious practice advice, as the people he would have interacted with would have either been the sketchy people of Shady Creek Run, or else people already faithful enough to seek the Blooming Grove. And second, the party finds itself directionless for a time; there is no pressing business or better ideas and he cannot hide his own mission behind someone else's, so he voices his recommendation that they come clean to the Bright Queen, and then they go to the kiln.

Caduceus's relationship with Fjord I think is useful to bring up in a sense of contrast, in that Caduceus is incredibly good at helping Fjord through a crisis, because Caduceus is trained for crisis - but it gets much hazier once Fjord is out of said crisis and as it turns out has a very different relationship with the Wildmother, and I think this comes up to an extent when they talk in Rexxentrum. I think Caduceus, for all his talk of nature's violence, struggles with the concept of nature being malevolent or having goals - it just is. Whereas Fjord is much more comfortable with the idea of nature perhaps being a force that is itself a threat, or deceptive, and more generally with the idea of nature as somewhat unknowable and full of mysteries. I don't think Caduceus's personal view of nature ever changes, but I think his ability to process that he doesn't have the answers even in the areas within his comfort zone improves, and this is something of an inflection point with regards to him acknowledging new perspectives on his own comfort zone.

It's also a little before this that we see Caduceus reveal vulnerability for the first real time since his panic attack on the boat right after they stole it, when he confides in The Gentleman. Some of this is a calculated social move, to be fair, but it's a notable step forward.

That said it takes a while to change and he spends a few days post-Rexxentrum doing anything to avoid facing his own mission. It's worth noting that Caduceus is a cleric of the same level as Jester, and could have cast sending before the party ever met up with him, and he never did. So they go to Beau's father and Isharnai first, putting it off as long as he can.

Caduceus's scenes with his family sort of snap all of the above into place, in that his parents are glad he's spent some time in the world and are completely accepting of his desire to keep going for a time. I'm honestly not sure, myself, why he does this because I don't think it's metagaming (ie, it's not Taliesin going 'I can't make a third character') but I think there are multiple valid interpretations. Caduceus's role, as the one who stays at home, is ultimately a self-imposed one.

He sort of mulls on that for the next while, sort of uncomfortably internalizing differing perspectives on deities with the Artagan reveal/Rumblecusp and additionally processing his own deeper relationship with the Wildmother, with multiple visions, and maybe even the fact that nature constantly wants to murder him.

Then we get to Eiselcross and that's when it all hits. I think as soon as he sees the corrupted trees he gets a sense of the scale, that this corruption is not just unnatural but it is ancient and has been a threat for a long time and that staving it off at the Blooming Grove is not getting at the unknown, underlying source (which he probably knew deep down, but as discussed above he does not really love to admit those things to himself). And he realizes that he might need to be the one not just to commit but to initiate violence, as the person with no emotional ties to Lucien via Molly; he finds himself bending his own moral rules for the greater good more; and I think this is when he realizes either that he needs to change, or perhaps that he's been changing quietly and slowly the whole time and has just been terrified to admit it.

The last night at the Blooming Grove before the final push into Aeor is another good look at Caduceus, who, like a number of characters in this campaign, is so very much defined by his ongoing and important familial relationships. We get a brief but heartbreaking glimpse at the state he was in prior to the Nein showing up in the garden, and how he was trying to induce something, anything, to give him direction because he didn't trust himself to leave without that assurance; and his admission, finally, to someone else of that change, that he never wanted to be the person to go on an adventure, that he still has very mixed feelings about it, but that this is his responsibility. And it's that which allows him to confidently say, on Cognouza, that it's time to end this shit.

In short (Clue the Movie voice: too late) Caduceus's arc is someone who has always believed in his sacred, literally god-given responsibility into which he was born, and struggles against the fact that said sacred responsibility ends up being quite different than what he expected but ultimately is able to accept it, and his reward is that he can return to the responsibility he initially embraced, having grown in ways he could not have otherwise.

Now, I think part of why Caduceus's arc gets overlooked is twofold. The first reason is that background arcs are, well, background, and it's quiet and subtle and highly internal and hard to turn into big dramatic moments, which, as a person whose favorite C1 character is Vex, I understand, but also those arcs are the best.

The second, and this is going to sound even more "I appreciate the muppets on a much deeper level than you" than the first, is that I feel a lot of people who considered Caduceus their favorite character did lean into the myth of "superfirbolgian" insight when the fact always was that Caduceus had no interest in the political; did not make Trent quake in his wizard robes in the slightest as was confirmed in the finale; and ultimately wanted most of all to return to his home.

It's a very true and very unique choice and if I may [note: I am writing this so I do what I want] I think a lot of people did not understand Caduceus in that they felt his ending was unhappy for him, and some of this is that people had really stupid takes on the party splitting at the end. I have mixed feelings on the true universality of the Campbellian Monomyth and even more mixed feelings on everyone giving Dan Harmon tons of credit for merely rephrasing it but despite that, Caduceus's arc fits it perfectly (and very literally): comfort zone -> need arises -> unfamiliar situation -> adaptation -> gets what he wants -> at a price -> returns to comfort -> having changed.

[sugadaily]

On tvN’s You Quiz on the Block, SUGA told stories from before his debut. The period of his life when he struggled with how to live off his music. SUGA and BTS have kept going and going for eight years, and now he’s on their grounds, where he can do anything he wants musically. What began with that long journey is the story of SUGA holding his head up higher and staring at the future, reaching for it.

How are you feeling after your shoulder surgery? You’re doing physical therapy in parallel with work. SUGA: I’m all right. I’m keeping up with the physical therapy, too. I had surgery last year because I wanted to be able to go back to work sooner. I have nothing else to do except music.

You said that there’s nothing for you to do other than music in the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, too. SUGA: It’s true. I tried gaming, but I have no talent for it. The people I play with online get so frustrated if I do. I mean, I’m working hard and got some recognition in my life, and yet people bash me so hard in games. (laughs)

I wonder if there’s a game you can do better in than you do in your career. You’re currently at your sixth week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 [with “Butter, at the time of this interview]. (laughs) How are you feeling these days? SUGA: When we were at number one for two weeks straight, I was like, Wow, this is so amazing! But after the fifth or sixth week, we really started to talk about it between ourselves: I really can’t believe this. Anyway, I feel like I have a responsibility. And I think I’ll end up thinking much, much more when we get ready for the next promotion. Even if I just try to enjoy this situation, it hasn’t sunk in. We can’t leave the country, plus there’s lots of issues in the world right now that are much more important than how well we perform on the charts.

As you say, it’s a tough situation, all over the world. How do you feel about releasing “Permission to Dance,” with its positive message, at this point in time? SUGA: It seems like everyone around the world is really tired of this situation dragging out. I wanted to convey a message that tells people to keep hanging on to hope until the very end. Whereas we released the album BE in this situation, seemingly without any certainty, I believe things will slowly get better now. I don’t know if we can go back to the way things were before, but I’m still working with the hope that we can return to a situation that resembles what we had before.

Aren’t you tired of the pandemic being in this prolonged state? SUGA: I look at it as, when you lose one thing, you gain another. I ended up being able to see my family more since I’m in Korea. In that sense, I feel more stable, so I’m not so much tired as hoping each day that things will become okay soon. I keep moving back and forth between work and home, and I’ve started to reflect on parts of myself I didn’t know about before. Like that I feel somewhat comfortable when I start and finish work at a certain time. While I used to have to go to bed at a certain time for work the next day or else I had a hard time getting up early, now I know I’ve figured out what time I should wake up at to make sure I feel good all day. What I pursue in life is emotional stability, and I don’t think there’s really anything too exciting or sad happening these days.

What effect do those emotions have when you work on music? SUGA: They don’t have a big effect on it. I think it affects the way I write lyrics a bit, but I’m not working on any lyrics at the moment. I’ve been making music for a long time, so I think it’s possible for me to express emotions I’m not feeling in the moment. And it’s good that we released “Permission to Dance” in this kind of situation.

You sing rather than rap in “Permission to Dance.” In addition to rapping, you started singing more both before and after BE. What did you learn about your voice? SUGA: “Permission to Dance” was a little bit difficult. I don’t draw a line between singing and rapping or anything, but it was different from our usual style, and the vocals were a bit high, too. So even though it took a while to prepare for it, I worked hard, and even when I asked some older musicians for their opinions, they all said, “It’s good the way you’re doing it. Don’t try to sing better—just sing more.” I think my only option is to sing more, like they suggested.

As far as style goes, you’ve been doing a smoother kind of pop music. Did any differences arise as a result of these changes? SUGA: All things considered, the English was the hardest part. I paid close attention to my pronunciation in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” It wasn’t easy to capture that smooth feeling in the songs, so I practiced my pronunciation quite a bit. And I end up breathing a lot when I’m doing an English song, but the rap parts were a bit hard for that reason. There’s a clear difference from Korean songs, since English has so many syllables. But I don’t have any one method I stick with for my vocals yet, so I tend to try lots of different things out.

What do you make of BTS’s achievements over the past year with “Permission to Dance” and “Butter,” as well as the group’s change in style? In the space of a year, you’ve released songs in a style different from MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 or BE. SUGA: As a producer, I think reactions are important to an artist who works within the field of popular music. With that in mind, speaking as a producer, “Dynamite,” “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” were the best choices. And musical tastes are different from country to country, and the cultures are different, too. Given that situation, I think it’s important that we’re a group who can send such a universal message out into the world.

BTS has really grown and changed a lot, starting with “No More Dream” and all the way to “Permission to Dance.” SUGA: I think it’s a natural course of event for those of us who make pop music. Artists mix and match different genres as they grow, and the music develops as the people of its time listen to it. I’ve been listening to a ton of music lately, and thanks to the times we live in, if I listen to a song a few times, they recommend me more songs in a similar style. And after listening to them, I realized the style of hip hop is also changing and is splitting off into different offshoots. Other than hip hop, I also listen to a lot of instrumental music. I’ve always liked Hans Zimmer’s music. There have been many times where a movie I like turns out to have music by Hans Zimmer.

What is it about Hans Zimmer’s music that draws you in? SUGA: I like orchestral music. There’s a lot of pop songs that are under the three-minute mark now, and whereas it’s sort of predetermined that they’re always written with intros that are four bars long, orchestral music can do a lot within its framework.

But, as can be seen in IU’s song “eight,” which you both produced and featured on, you broke out of pop music’s typical composition style and tried out a highly condensed progression. The composition of the chorus is very straightforward. SUGA: Yes. I insisted that the flow be roughly cut in half from that of a typical song, and I expect more pop music will be like that in the future. And maybe even shorter as time goes on. I mean, these days there’s songs that are under two minutes, even.

Regardless, I felt the chorus in “eight” is extremely dramatic with its structure and the melody of the chorus. I thought it was rather grand in scale as well. Would you say that you’re attempting to mix your tastes and things you want to do into the structure of pop music? SUGA: As you know, I love hip hop, so when I was first making music I thought it had to be hip hop no matter what and that I had to take pride in my own ideas and not accept any compromise. But while getting some experience at the forefront of pop music, I figured out that you can keep being stubborn or inflexible because there are people listening to you. There was a time I made music without any listeners before I became a member of BTS. But if someone were to ask if I stopped being stubborn about the music I’m making these days, the answer’s no. As I grew up and became an adult, I came to realize that I have to negotiate between what I want to do and the kind of music the public wants without compromising anything. When I give up on something I wanted to do, I ask myself, What will I get out of this? And conversely, when I want to do something, I ask myself, What can I get out of this? That’s how I keep my balance to make it to where I am now.

You have no choice but to think about those things when you work on other artists’ songs, especially when you’re a producer. SUGA: I’m BTS’s SUGA, and I’m Agust D, and when I’m producing, I go by “by SUGA.” But when it comes to by SUGA, I make perfectly commercial music. I’m the producer for those songs, sure, but the owner is someone else, you know? In that case, they’re commissioning my work. But they wouldn’t think about just leaving it all with SUGA. The artist’s label has to think carefully about whether to commission me for producing and consider my situation, too, and those people must be hoping for something commercial. That’s the most important part of working with outside people. Actually, that kind of work isn’t much of a benefit to me, to be honest. Oh, he can write this kind of song, too. That’s all. The more valuable thing I can get from it is the recognition and records the artist or the company will get with the song instead.

As you noted in your previous Weverse Magazine interview, when you discussed your “interest in the music industry in the US,” you seem to constantly think about the things artists can do within the framework of the music industry. SUGA: I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve become more certain since the pandemic started that I’m the kind of person who always has to be doing music. That much I know for sure, so I want to keep on making good music. And the pop music market is something that came about because there were people listening, and there’s a long history to the US music market, and it possesses the most influential charts in the whole word. So then I thought, Wouldn’t they have gone through all the same things that we have? And really, whenever I talk to other pop stars, the situation is always similar. The US is also more realistic about commercial results than any other country. I wanted an accurate picture of how those people work. Right now, Korean pop music’s spread is in full swing and we need more good artists to keep popping up. From a producer’s standpoint, if that’s going to happen, I think the key is how well we can mix our music and the characteristics of overseas music industries overall.

How did it feel to be in the lineup for the Grammy Awards, one of the icons of the US music industry? SUGA: The feeling was less immediate because we couldn’t be there in person, and it wasn’t a huge distinction, but the performance made me think, This is different, because it’s the Grammys. What changed my view from the first time I went to an American music awards ceremony was, the first time I went, I was really scared of the world’s biggest music market. But when I look back now, I don’t think I had any reason to feel that intimidated. To be honest, I have only now begun to enjoy the awards ceremonies; I wasn’t able to then.

It’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve achieved most of the things that you can as an artist in the music industry. What steps do you think are necessary for the artists who follow after BTS? SUGA: The way artists work seems so difficult. They make an appearance on a different music show every day once the promotional period begins, meaning the exhaustion artists face is enormous, and that fatigue often results in injuries as it adds up. That kind of music show is for promotional purposes, so it’s not like the artists can earn a proper income from them. On top of that, despite all the promoting, there’s no visible outcome, so they inevitably lose morale. If possible, it’d be nice to have one of the performances be really high-quality, even if it’s just the one, but in this environment I’d say that’s pretty difficult. And since our job doesn’t fit the common conception of work, there’s ambiguous boundaries when it comes to issues of legal protection as well. We need a lot of improvements to be made to the industry and its system.

They demand a lot of things as collateral for success, yet success is extremely difficult to attain. SUGA: The great thing about the label I’m with is they listen to the artists’ opinions. I think both we and the label know to a certain degree what kinds of activities would be best commercially speaking. But the question is whether the body can endure it or not. If the fatigue builds up as you continuously do those promotional activities, it’s hard to do them the way you did when you first debuted. In that case, I think the label ought to actively accommodate the artist’s views about what they can and cannot do. An attitude that’s just like, Oh, we made you kids, and as long as you just do what we tell you to it’ll all work out, so just do it—I think that really doesn’t make any sense. Of course, there could still be situations where the label has to be pushy like that, obviously. But I heard there’s been times where a label will just say, Do it, without any explanation to the artist, or, Why are you talking so much? I think that’s the biggest issue and it’s destroying the industry. If you just see the artist as a product, how can they do anything creative? I really think it’s very contradictory to ask the people on stage to put on an enjoyable performance when they’re experiencing neither fun nor enjoyment.

That reminds me of the music video for “Daechwita” somehow. You appear onscreen as both a rebel character and a king, looking as different as your situation when you first debuted with BTS and your situation now. SUGA: There was a lot I wanted to do in “Daechwita,” not just musically but also visually, and a lot of ideas came to me as I came to reflect on who I am as a person while working on the music video. It naturally occurred to me to separate SUGA, by SUGA and Agust D. The character I played in that video who wasn’t the king was a stranger. It takes place during the Joseon era, but then there’s cars and guns, which of course don’t belong in that era. I think we’ve been living our lives that way. Right from our debut, a portion of the hip hop lovers criticized us by saying, They’re idols. But at the same time, we heard things like, They’re not idols. I didn’t know which drumbeat to march to, so I think that’s why each of our albums took a different direction than people were expecting. But I don’t think I can call myself a stranger in this situation anymore. So these days my main goal is to keep going with BTS for a long time. Having a huge audience show up at our concerts is nice, but I think the goal for all of us is to make sure the group can keep making music even as we get older. I think right now we’re thinking a lot about how we can have fun and be happy on stage.

What do you mean when you say fun and happy music? SUGA: I think people are happier the busier I am, so lately I’ve been thinking that I need to focus a little more. I figure we should do as much as we can for ARMY since they feel happy watching us. We’ll continue to try our best, so I hope they believe in BTS and keep their eyes on us.

So that’s why you do music. SUGA: This is the only thing I know how to really do. Other than music and BTS, there’s nothing special about me when I look at this 28-year-old Min Yoongi. That’s why I want to keep doing this.

[thefanficmonster]

Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

                                                              *  *  *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully. 

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

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[munsnz]

Sand — Steve Harrington

TW: Cussing ??

Summary: Where plans were canceled with your best friend, bringing along you and her ex together aka Steve Harrington, remembering the huge dick he was in high school. Perhaps in the span of one day, you catch feelings for him but during a fun activity leads you and Steve together.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader

Lydineo Radio: Let The Sun In — Wallows

Masterlist — Requests are open!

“I thought Nancy was coming,” You mumbled as you walked towards Steve Harrington’s car, where he wore a pair of his black sunglasses along with a summer blouse, leaning against his car. You and Nancy both planned to head on over to the beach, somehow convinced that Steve was going as well, even if they broke up. It had been a year since the mall burned down due to a mysterious cause, now it was another boring summer all over again.

He smiled a little as he saw you trudge over to him, “Plans were changed little one.” Steve pat you on the head, making you feel like a child and you smacked his hand away from your head.

”Ew don’t touch me,” you groaned and crossed your arms as you stepped away from him. He laughs at the funny gesture and takes his shades off to show his chestnut colored eyes into the open. “So what are we supposed to do?”

”We can......” Steve trailed off, looking at you, “I don’t really know, we can both go?”

You cringed at his words and statement, giving a funny expression playing at your face, “Steve...... I hope you’re kidding me. I don’t even know you much. All I know is that you’re Dustin’s friend and you worked at the mall.”

”I see you’ve watched me huh?” He chuckles at your response and cheekily leans over closer to you, “Guess my beauty- Ow!” He groans to see you step over his shoe, to make him shut up.

”Look, Harrington,” You snap at him, while you take his glasses away from his hands and put them on your face, “I cancelled all my shit plans to come to this little stupid trip Nancy told me and I’m still going, but I’m not gonna let your dumb ego stop me.”

Steve rapidly shakes his head at your orders and ruffles his hair a little being in front of you, a sort of tint of pink welled up on his cheeks. Was he blushing? Seeing him at such flustered state, you rolled your eyes to walk inside the passenger’s seat of his car.

“So are we going-“

”Get in......Asshole,” You smile at him as you shoot a glare at him, making him follow your directions to sit into the driver’s seat next to you.

He sighs a little and turns to you while he turns on the car, “You know Y/N...... you’re a little scarier than I thought.”

Scoffing at such remark, you punch his shoulder, making him laugh nervously, “I’m sorry but I’m not usually this scary.”

”Oh thank-“

You shot a glare at him again, he jumped and turned to the steering wheel. “So where we off to? Maybe we could grab a bite before we go?”

”Sure that’s fine,” You crossed your arms and huffed, this trip was going to be one shitshow for sure knowing you had to be stuck with Steve Harrington.

-

”How come I’ve never heard about you at school?” Steve asks as he sips down the last of his milkshake, watching you, fidgeting with your fingers.

Looking up at him, you claimed while laughing, “Well, you were too busy with popularity. I was just a shadow!” You noticed his eyes turn away from you and you sighed, “I hope you’re not like that anymore. Or are you?”

He shakes his head at your question, being able to express that he was no longer that douchebag he was in high school, “No not anymore. Not everything is about popularity.”

”You learned it the hard way huh?”

Steve nods his head at your claim. It seemed like you could read Steve by his expressions and words he spoke. You had never and I mean never have spoken to Steve Harrington prior to the school you both attended to. Just click. It did.

”How do you know me so well Y/N?” He pondered, while getting up from the table, sliding the money onto the bill for the waitress, “We just met and you read me like a book.”

”I don’t know,” You get up along with him, and both walk outside to find that it was already 4 pm, “Oh shit, it’s late.”

”It’s really intriguing to talk to you,” He blurts out, while walking to his car. You looked up at him, with widened eyes, “I-I mean we took around two hours talking to each other.”

You glanced at him, shuffling over inside his car to avoid any eye contact with you. As you came inside the car, he turned it on, driving to the south where the small beach was near.

-

The wind blew on your face, sending your hair all over the place as you got out of Steve’s car. Somehow a bit of hair got into your mouth and you began to choke but calmed down, whipping the bit of hair out of your mouth. You watched from afar the tides came in and out at the sandy beach located a few towns away from Hawkins. The air began to cool, meaning the sun was going to set anytime soon.

”I guess you’re not much of a beach or summer person right?” Steve calls out from behind you, making you look at him.

He read you correctly this time and you joked, “It’s my job to read you, not yours.” Both of you grabbed a picnic blanket from his trunk and began to walk to the beach area. You slid your shoes off, to place your feet in the thick, warm, sand as Steve followed the same thing like you. In the windy silence, you both laid the towel under you. Getting comfortable, Steve turned on the radio, faintly playing Higher Love by Steve Windows (coincidence? I think not), there wasn’t that much people at the beach that same day. A couple of kids who were playing in the waves from afar, but that was only it. Another driven silence began, but bored out of your mind, you decided to take off your crew neck, where your bathing suit was under and head to the water.

Doing such action in front of him, Steve felt flustered watching you slide your sweater off your body, “Something bothering you Harrington?” You laughed at him, to stand up and lend your hand towards him.

”I.....” Steve trails off, grabbing your hand to stand up and run towards the water, “Last one there is a rotten egg!”

”You’re such a child, Steve!” You giggled and followed him to the tide running in and out. You were sadly the last one that got there, being splashed water at your face by him, “You’re gonna regret that Harrington!”

“I’d like to see you try Y/N!”

-

Who knew you were chasing Steve Harrington across the water to see him being thrown by the wave crashing, sending him underwater. He comes back to the surface to find you next to him, splashing water in his face, getting back at him.

”I told you I’d get you,” You paddled your feet to keep you at the surface, smiling at him to find his ‘perfect’ hair ruined in front of you.

But as you watched him squint his eyes because of the water in them. You felt something touch your leg, making you quiver, “Ah!” You shouted as you rapidly threw your arms around him, unaware of who you were holding on to. Caught off guard, Steve feels his heart skip a beat, feeling your skin on his, sending you both underwater and back up to the surface.

”What’s wrong?!” He exclaims, blabbing out the salty water that accidentally went into his mouth, while grabbing you too.

”I felt something on my leg,” You look around at the body of water around you, still latched onto him. Freezing in your position, the only sound you both heard was of the ocean, nothing else happened. But slowly realizing who you were hung onto, you watch him awkwardly to find him holding you as well, bringing a whole feeling of nervousness. Letting go, although you didn’t want to.

“Karma,” He chuckles silently, and covers his mouth. Realizing your stupidity, it was just seaweed roaming around. You move your hair out of your face and begin to swim away from him, but felt a slight tug by your waist, guessing who it was you paddled away faster and giggled even more.

Now here was the place you were going to have a lifetime with this guy you barely know. This new friend of yours seemed like someone you have known for years on end. Just something about it, clicked.

-

After a shit ton of messing around and unintentionally flirting with each other, you grew exhausted. The swimming and running all over the place drains one out. Now you were splurged onto the warm sand, with a ton of mixed emotions everywhere, eager to try something different.

”This may sound weird but you’re cool.”

”I know I am,” Steve scoffs, laying shirtless under the towel and crossed his legs while you sat up, dusting the sand away from the seashells you both found lying beneath the sand. Another silence grew, the sound of the waves become louder, you were in the reality instead of that pretty daydream with him. You weren’t attracted to Steve. Correct?

Of course you were though, shockingly. But with such courage you sighed, watching the sunset turn into a deep shade of orange and purple, “Wanna do something weird?”

”I like weird,” Steve sits up, placing his arm onto his bent knee, “Tell me.”

You had never been such an outgoing or confident person, it seemed like you were more into the shy part of things. As you breathed out, you mumbled, “How about if we talk about the person we like the most? We write it down in the sand, and run away.”

”That’s weird.”

Whilst you were annoyed, you furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Steve I just said it’s weird-“

”I know I know,” He says, standing up and grabbing a stick from far away, “What are you waiting for?”

-

Scribbling an S, then a T and E, V, E, you finished, but panicked slightly knowing he probably didn’t like you. And no, it wasn’t a cliche thing. Or was it?

”I’m done,” You hear Steve’s voice make you jump nervously, signaling this would most likely be the end of your friendship. Wow, just one day in and poof! There goes another bond away from your life.

“Let me look at it first!”

Fear in his voice, he almost shoved you to turn away from the only letter you saw, “Hey! No I go first!”

”No let me!” You pushed him a little and jumped to look over his shoulder, but he was too quick and moved enough to block your sight to see the name.

In a fight, you still couldn’t see the pair of letters, and pushed each other around, in fear to know the other’s reaction of it.

“Asshole just let me-“

Oh God.

That boy knows.

He saw his name written, from behind your short height. Oh shit you were doomed for sure. It was surely impossible to love someone by day one. But this, this was different. Feelings were all over the place, as you noticed his eyes widened at the sight of the letter that spelled his name out.

You clicked your tongue and flinched a little before you would usually get rejected, “It’s a prank I’m kidding! I’m so funny right?”

Steve awkwardly looks around, putting his arms behind his back and stepped away for you to see YOUR NAME. Oh god you knew it was some prank. You watched and still saw his serious face driven by the silence, perhaps he wasn’t joking.

”Oh man,” You cross your arms, watching the letters printed on the sand being destroyed by the incoming wave, washing it away from existence, “We’re just pranking each other right?”

“Uh-“

”Just say it!” You walk over to him and spin away from him, “We should just go home, it’s getting late anyways.”

”I-“

You continue blabbing more nonsense about your summer and how this idea was just one big mistake. Steve knew you wouldn’t stop anytime soon so he stops you by grabbing your shoulders, catching you off guard. Wide eyed, and flushed face, he mumbles a little, “It’s not a prank, I wouldn’t play with love like that.”

”Love?”

”Yeah......” He trails off, watching you intently at the somewhat attraction he had for you, “I-I uh....I know this is fast. I don’t expect you to say yes which is totally fine I’m sorry I’m rushing this I-“

“I like you too Harrington,” You confidently move away for him to see the letters clearly written STEVE on it. Shocked, Steve snaps out of his thoughts to find you put an arm around him and look at him. “So is this the part where we admit our true feelings then realize we are actually in love after getting to know each other in the span of a day and we kiss under the sunset?”

Steve watched you cheekily grin at him, and nodded slightly, “I suppose-“ He was cut off by your lips pressing onto his, automatically bringing his hands on your waist, holding you closer to his body like glue. Both of you continue to move your lips in sync, realizing, maybe this boring and mistaken trip was all written in the sand.

[noonegetsleftbehind]

*    knowing  your  partner  well  can  potentially  make  writing  a  lot  easier,    repost,    do  not  reblog.

                                                                                meet the mun. — basics

NAME:  J. PRONOUNS:  he/him PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: I basically live on discord SINGLE / TAKEN: married 

— three facts

𝙞.  I have a tattoo of Freddie Mercury on my right wrist. so far my only tattoo, but god do I want more 𝙞𝙞.  I’m actually allergic to cats (and dogs lol), but have never not owned a cat in my life and this also does not stop me from straight up smooshing my face against a cat for smooches and loving on it.  𝙞𝙞𝙞.  I have a designer breed dog (a mix between a Shih Tzu and a Bichon) that I never intended on getting named Ziggy, but one look at him when he was a puppy and it was all over. I love him more than anything basically and can’t imagine my life without this idiot. He’s the best gift my wife has ever given me.

— experience

I have been on tumblr in some way, shape, or form since 2012. I’ve done it all from group rp, running groups, building my own groups, indie, canon, multi and OC. I’ve been in all kinds of different fandoms and wound up here in this one last year. This is where I live now. Before RP I wrote a lot of fanfic. For yeeeeaaarrrs lol. I also live on discord now too and I do a shit ton of rp there too for mutuals. 

— sub-genres

FLUFF: I love fluff! Sometimes you just need to see your muse(s) just having a genuine good time. Sometimes you just need it because maybe you yourself are having a bad day or something irl. It’s good to have, but... In reality it typically won’t last that long in a thread with me or interaction. I need to have some kind of drama or something furthering the plot. Fluff is something, more often then not for me, that just gets nicely sprinkled in between everything else.  SMUT: I will be the first to admit I love it lol. All rules apply, of course. Also? It has to be a ship I have already written or am writing currently. I also have to be pretty fucking comfortable with the mun to even consider it usually. It definitely has its place in writing and furthering plots/things. Plus, it can be pretty beautifully written sometimes. It’s an art just like any other writing.  ANGST: I like to think I am practically the king of angst. I live it. Breathe it. Welcome it. Worship it. It is my absolute FAVORITE to write. I feel I am at my best, writing wise, when I can write angst. The emotions, the drama of it all is just *chef’s kiss*. If you write with me at all, ever, expect there to be angst. That’s just how it’s gonna be. 

— plots versus memes

I think that it’s definitely easier to just jump right into memes. Sometimes some of my best ever threads and interactions have come from memes. However, that doesn’t discount the whole awesomeness that is actually sitting down to plot something out and seeing that unravel. They both have their pros and cons and I love them for both. I just tend to default to memes when a plot is hard to come up with. 

— long or short replies

Both. Both are very valid. The length isn’t necessarily indicative of the quality of the reply. As long as there is something there to go off of? That’s all there needs to be. You write what you feel is the best length for any of your replies and I do the same. Just.... Most of the time mine wind up being very long and I just hope people know they don’t HAVE to match that haha. 

— best time to write

It’s honestly a crapshoot for me lol. In the past I have done the majority of my writing late at night or at least at night. I find the night hours to be pleasing to my creative soul. However, I do sometimes go to bed like a normal human and wake up at normal hours so writing happens sporadically then. It just really depends on the day for me.

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙: Actually stolen from the always lovely giver of slutty cookies @fasciinating 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜: @fcrrokinetic​, @agntkennedy​, @seeksbrother​, @facetedspades​, @lawfulchaotics​, @bratfield​, @bastardsunlight​, @vehxmence​, @solemnxodium​, @captainredfields​, @nightlyvisitor​, @daughterofnero​ and any of you beautiful mutuals <3

[petri808]

hiii i am absolutely obsessed with ur drabbles could u please do nalu #4 and #39 pls🥺

“Walk out that door and we’re through” + “Please come home, I miss you”

This was tough cause the questions could trigger a story similar to this one I also did for these prompt asks round. But I think I can make it different enough, albeit angst hell 😅 here we go! It’s a little rushed but longer then I expected for a ficlet lol

“Lucy,” Natsu knocked at the office door, “it’s time to go.”

“Where?” She answered without looking up.

“Levy’s birthday party.”

“Oh!” Lucy sat up in her desk chair and turned her body to face her husband. “Right! I forgot. Um, shucks, but I’m on a writing high right now and I can’t stop— tell her I’ll make it up to her, will ya?”

She always says that… Natsu sighed, “yeah, sure…”

Levy Redfox was Lucy’s childhood best friend and while the woman was also his friend, it just didn’t sit well with Natsu that she’d choose writing over the woman. But this had been an ongoing issue lately... Don’t get him wrong, he fully supported his wife’s career as an author, especially now that it’s really starting to take off. The issue was it had consumed her at the expense of everyone around her.

He knocked on their friends door, answered by Levy herself.

“Natsu!” Levy hugged the man excitedly, but when she noticed he was alone, frowned a tad. “Again, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Levy,” Natsu’s shoulders slumped. “Lucy’s in a,” he made quotation marks in the air, “‘writing high,’ and said she’ll make it up to you.”

“Well, I’m glad you came,” the woman smiled despite the sadness hiding behind her eyes.

All of their closest friends were in attendance and spent the evening talking, eating, and playing a few fun birthday games. It distracted him to some extent, but as the night wore down and the other guests had all left, Natsu, his best friend Gray Fullbuster, Levy, and her husband Gajeel sat around in the living room talking about the elephant in the room. Lucy.

“I’ve tried talking to her,” Levy said quietly, “but, I try not to make it sound too harsh.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what you need to do babe,” Gajeel chimed in. “Be blunt.”

“Yeah, I’m like you,” Natsu agreed with Levy. “It’s not easy to bring it up cause she’s oblivious about it.”

“But it’s hurting your marriage man!” Gray looked at Natsu. “And your friendship,” he switched to Levy. “I’m with Gajeel. If you aren’t honest with her, it’s not gonna get better.”

“Think I don’t know that?!” Natsu spat back. “Think I enjoy being the only one in that house in pain?! I don’t, but—” his voice cracked, “I’m worried I’ll push her away if I say something.”

“She’s already pushing you away dude. Do you still love her?”

“Of course, I do,” Natsu sighed. “I love her more than anything, but apparently it’s not enough… we haven’t even… you know, I can’t remember the last time.”

“Wow… Then you really gotta tell her. All of it,” Gray coaxed.

Levy who’d sat quietly through the back and forth, chimed in quietly. “Gray’s right. You should tell her, when you go home, just tell her how you’re feeling. And whatever happens, happens. We can just hope for the best.”

“You know you’ll be the first to hear from her if I do,” Natsu pointed out.

“I know. But… it’s time I come clean too.”

Natsu slumped back onto the couch and let out a depressed exhale. “And you,” he looked to Gray. “You know if it goes wrong I’ll be showing up at your door.”

“My couch has your name on it.”

“Gee, thanks.”

That had to be the longest drive home Natsu had ever taken, even though it was really just 10 minutes. He was a physical person by nature and never been very good at expressing his feelings in words. Words were his wife’s domain. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but his biggest fear was saying things wrong. With his hand on the doorknob, Natsu took one last breath and opened the door to her office. He knew before entering, Lucy was still working by the clacks of the keyboard and interrupting would immediately cause friction. But he couldn’t wait anymore.

“I’m home,” Natsu called out… with no response. He sighed and spoke more sternly. “Lucy. I’m home.”

“Oh, welcome home,” she finally responded. “How was the party?”

He knew it was an empty question, because she never even looked up or stopped typing and it meant she wasn’t really listening. “Lucy… we need to talk.”

“I’m kinda busy Natsu.”

“I know, but you’re always busy Lucy. That’s part of the problem.” The moment the last word came out, Natsu knew instantly he’d picked the wrong one. Crap.

Lucy stopped typing, turned off the screen and shut the laptop. “Problem?” She turned the chair around with her eyes narrowed in a focused glare. “What do you mean, problem?”

“Lucy,” he ran a hand down his face, “I don’t want to fight, but we need to talk— there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“Like what?” She crossed her arms. “What is so important that you need to mess with my job?”

There it was.

“I’m not trying to do that,” he sighed. “You know how proud I am of your career. But, it feels as if you’re choosing your career over everything else in your life. Me, your friends, we’re all just being pushed aside—”

“Are you kidding me?!” Lucy shot out of her chair shaking in anger. “I am not doing any of that! I’m not pushing anyone away! Y-You’re the one who’s acting selfish trying to tell me I’m not giving you enough attention! And don’t you bring Levy into this! If this was bothering her she’d tell me!”

“It does bother her! But she’s afraid of getting,” he gestured with his hands up and down at Lucy, “this reaction! Is it selfish to want to spend some time with my own wife?!” Natsu growled. “We never spend time together anymore! You’re just always hunched over that damn computer!”

“I’m doing my job!” Lucy shrieked. “I have deadlines to meet! This story ain’t gonna write itself! Research ain’t gonna materialize on its own! It’s a lot of work!”

“Lucy,��� Natsu pinched his brows together, trying hard to stop from snapping further as well as to control the tears building in his eyes. “I love you, more than anything in this world, but I don’t know what happened to the woman I’d married. The old Lucy wouldn’t abandon her loved ones like this.”

“You’re just mad because I’m successful now.”

“That’s bullshit! And you know it! No job is worth losing the people you care about, and if you can’t understand that, then, I don’t know what else to say!”

“Then I guess there isn’t anything more to say,” she spat back.

“I guess not.” Natsu answered softly, turned and left the room.

He’d already assumed confronting Lucy about her precious career would not end well, and he was right. Staying would only cause more trouble. So, he quietly packed a suitcase to go to Gray’s house, making sure to bring anything he’d need because he had no idea how long he’d stay there. He’d said his peace; it really was all in Lucy’s hands now.

Back in her office, Lucy dropped back down into her chair as the full weight of what just transpired hit her like a ton of bricks. She cradled her face in her hands as the anger that had fueled her response suddenly mixed with sadness. Tears flowed free. Did that really just happen?! She could hear Natsu moving around in the bedroom, the opening of drawers, the closet, the zipping sound of the suitcase, each and every step driving a knife deeper and deeper. How dare he tell her to stop writing! This was her dream! Her livelihood! Why couldn’t he just support her instead of acting like a child who wasn’t getting attention!

When she heard Natsu walking towards the front door area, Lucy raced out of the room to confront him one last time.

“Walk out that door and we’re through!” She screamed. “Do you hear me? We’re through!”

Natsu ignored her words knowing it was the anger talking… hoping it was just the emotions fueling her rage. “I’ll be at Gray’s,” he simply responded with a hint of sadness in his tone. “You should really think long and hard about this Lucy, because if not, you’ll lose a lot more than you realize.” And with that, he closed the front door behind him.

Lucy crumpled to the ground and wailed— raged, banging the floor with her fists as the sobbing overtook her. She truly could not understand what brought this on. Hadn’t she been a good wife?! Faithful! Hard working! What more did he want?! All she was doing was trying to make it in the cut-throat world of publishing. Does he not understand how hard it is to make it in that world?! She pulled her phone from her pocket and started to dial Levy’s phone number. But just as she got to the last two numbers, she stopped. It was already 1 am, and it would be rude to wake her friend up. Lucy sniffled and hung her head in shame before dragging herself back towards the bedroom. She’ll just call in the morning.

When Levy answered the phone, Lucy was slightly taken aback by the response. Not a hello, just a, ‘I wondered when you’d call.’ Evidently the woman was expecting it, but she was too tired to let it add to her problems. She hadn’t slept much after Natsu left— no surprise. She was still angry, but also confused, sad, and just mentally drained of life. Her friend agreed to come over in a bit, so Lucy dragged herself into the shower hoping it would make her feel better.

“Wow, you don’t look good,” Levy remarked at her friend.

“Hi to you too,” Lucy mumbled as she moved to the side to let her friend in. “Who would after a fight?”

Once settled on the couch, Levy went straight to the point before Lucy could even begin. “I already know what this is about. I know Natsu’s side, so start with yours.”

“Wow— okay, well—” Lucy pulled her legs up and tucked them underneath her body in a protective mode. “He tried to tell me to stop writing and I thought that was bullshit,” she said bluntly.

Levy’s brow raised. “Is that exactly what he said? To stop writing?”

“W-Well no, but that what he implied!”

“What did he say exactly?”

Lucy looked away, a scowl growing on her face and to hide the renewed moisture in her eyes. “He said I’m pushing everyone away.”

“And you don’t agree?”

“No! I’m not choosing my career over everyone! It’s ridiculous to even imply that I would!”

“Lu, do you still love your husband?”

“Of course, I love him!”

“Are you sure he knows you still love him?”

“I—” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and sunk further into the couch mumbling. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”

“I can tell you, he doesn’t. Lu, you’ve pushed all of us away.”

“So, you’re taking his side?!”

“No. I’m giving you reality. You’ve been wrapped up in your fictional world so much that you’ve forgotten this one and the real people in it.”

“I—” Lucy turned away to hide the tears slowly starting to trickle down her face. “I never meant to…”

“I know…” Levy placed a hand on her friends leg. “Lu, we all know. He knows, but he’s hurting and it’s in your power to fix this.”

“But how?! I can’t just stop writing. I have deadlines and— you know, its a lot of work to put a story together.”

“You have to find a balance. Right?” Levy coaxed. “You have to take breaks. You have to relax sometimes. Natsu’s not asking you to stop, and he knows there will be times you really can’t stop. But it can’t be all the time, and right now it’s all the time.”

“I know…”

“Girl when was the last time you…” Levy wiggled her brows and grinned. “You know.”

Lucy blushed. “Too long.”

“Well?!” Levy laughed. “Are you finally getting our point?”

“Yeah,” Lucy sighed. “I got tunneled vision.”

Levy leaned in, adding pressured from the hand on Lucy’s leg and a softening in her voice. “And it put your marriage in jeopardy. But it’s not too late to fix it.”

The tears exploded from Lucy. “I told him… when he left, I-I told him don’t come back.” She buried her face in her hands as the sobbing took control. “I-I was screaming at him… so angry, I just lost it and—”

Levy pulled Lucy into a hug. “Shhh,” she held tight. “I’m sure he knew you didn’t mean it. Shh, it’s okay. Sometimes we say things we don’t mean when we’re mad. But you can still get him back, I’m certain of it.”

“H-how?!” Lucy sobbed into Levy’s shoulder. “He’s gotta be so mad at me!”

“Hun, Natsu’s more sad then mad. He needs to feel like you still love him.” Levy pulled away and cupped Lucy’s cheeks, staring, searching the woman’s eyes. “Can you tell him you love him?”

“I can tell him I love him,” Lucy sniffled.

“Then go tell him that!” She hugged her friend. “You’ll be okay Lu, you two are meant to last.”

“Thanks, Levy.”

“He’s at Gray’s right? Want me to drive you?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Levy smiled. “Now clean up a bit, I’ll wait in the car.”

The whole ride over to Gray’s house was the most nerve wracking experience in Lucy’s life. As she sat there huddled in Levy’s passenger seat, all the ways she could ever apologize tried to funnel through her head. She was a writer, and yet for the first time in a long time, all the words dried up or mashed together like a broken verse. Levy did her best to keep Lucy calm, reminding her that it’s all about being honest— just let your heart do the talking for once and not her head.

“You got this,” Levy patted Lucy’s shoulder before she exited the vehicle.

Lucy sure hoped she did. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Seconds ticked by and with each chime, all the weight and worry crept closer to sending her over. He was mad. Too mad. He probably won’t answer…

Finally someone did. “You came?” Natsu’s voice was soft and low, his eyes still bloodshot and worn.

“I came,” Lucy hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry— F-For everything, Natsu please come home, I miss you. I love you more than my job, and I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“You always say that Lucy…”

Ouch. Straight through her heart. The tears broke free again as her knees weakened, causing her to fall against him. Natsu caught her, and she clung to him, gripped to his shirt. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please come home! I love you! Natsu please come home! I can change! I promise I’ll change!”

That’s when she felt his hold truly tighten around her body and his head come to rest against her own. Lucy sobbed harder from the acceptance, pouring her heart in her words. “I love you… I love you so much, I’m so sorry….”

Natsu cradled her head and closed his eyes, voice soft with an upbeat to its tone. “Now there’s the woman I married.”

He held Lucy tightly until her sobbing slowed, eventually pulling away just enough to wipe the tear trails away. “Shall we go home now?”

Lucy nodded. “Please….”

[ddarker-dreams]

Do Well. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]

warnings: dabi is just a huge asshole, emotional manipulation, implied panic attack word count: 2.6k.

“Would you be a dear and wait here for a few? I need to take a call.” 

Dabi tilts his head alongside his words, glints of amusement present in his sapphire eyes. You’re certain the bastard picks up on every subconscious movement your body makes at the question, feeling like an open book before him. Despite your valiant efforts, human biology doesn’t operate in your personal interest. The challenging premonition causes your lips to curl down, fingers twitching on the wide straw of your milk tea. Pausing mid sip, you pull back, eyelashes fluttering. It’s the subservient behavior he wants to see, and considering the alternatives, you’re tripping over yourself to give it to him.

“... Of course. I should just stay here, right?” It’s more of a question posed for your sake than his, information vital to keep your head above water. Any movements on your behalf that even hint at disobedience could lead to dire consequences, ranging in severity. The worst of which is being confined back to his dingy apartment, with nothing but your thoughts to entertain yourself. All the faux smiles, carefully timed giggles, and strategic brushes of skin against skin would be for naught. You worked too hard for these trips outside for it to fall through your fingers like sand. 

Your captor makes a point of giving you a once over, lackadaisical visage a front for a predator in waiting. Condensation builds up against the plastic container in hand, making it tricky to tell if it’s your hands growing clammy or the drink. Time passes by at a snail’s pace, neither of you making the slightest of movements. People go about their lives in happy-go-lucky bliss, none the wiser to the potential harm that Dabi poses. Feeling finally returns to your body as he stands, seemingly content with the exchange.

He shoots you a coy look over his shoulder, a crooked smile spreading across his face. “Don’t miss me too much.” 

Dabi snickers at how your nose scrunches up, waving and slinking off with his phone in hand. You watch his retreating figure, still in disbelief over the unfolding events. This would be the first time since being kidnapped that you’ve been on your own in public. These special little outings were a privilege, one that you had worked diligently for. Consistently being on your best behavior, day after day, in the presence of someone you abhor from the depths of your soul is no easy task. A rush of adrenaline shoots through your body when he’s out of sight, eyes darting around in excitement.

This is a prime location to make an escape, the outdoors of a crowded mall in the afternoon. Everyone ranging from families, to couples, and employees on their lunch break are walking around. Lively chatter fills your ears, and you observe every possibility as if it’s your last. While it’s likely a futile dream, the rush your quickening pulse brings demands attention. Lithe fingers shake by your side, every ounce of your strength devoted to keeping yourself from unraveling at the mere concept of being free. He has to be watching. You know him well enough that he wouldn’t have offered the opportunity to escape on a silver platter, there’s got to be measures in place. 

There’s no way he isn’t keeping an eye on you now, making sure that you hold true to your word of behaving. 

Your shoulders slump at this cruel reality. The act of looking around excitedly would be too much of a give away, an observation he’d surely bring up later. An eruption of goosebumps dot your skin, even in the sweltering summer heat. Taking another sip of your drink, you abandon hope of escape, certain it’d be a mistake should you try it. Though he’s purposefully kept you in the dark on most of his relationships with the League of Villains, you can safely assume he’s interconnected with enough unsavory figures to locate you should it be necessary. In contrast to the sugary goodness that coats your tongue, a sour taste in your mouth develops at this blatant flaunting of power. What an asshole. 

To be so self-assured that even in the event of your escape, hunting you down and bringing you back into his loving arms is still within the realm of possibility. Your eye twitches at this realization, mentally flinging numerous curses towards him. He didn’t have to make it so obvious, rubbing salt on the theoretical wound of your pride. Too preoccupied with festering thoughts of resentment, you fail to notice a figure taking a seat next to you on the bench. 

“Is the drink not good or something?” A light, masculine voice asks from your left. Darting around immediately at the interruption of your venomous thoughts, you spot a man around your age. Sporting messy brunette hair and a casual get up of a tee with a pair of jeans, it tugs painfully on your heart to see someone living an uninhibited life as you used to. This envy mutates into horror, as you realize being caught speaking to a stranger is going to land you in boiling water. Dabi’s consciousness is a minefield in waiting, daring to blow at the slightest wrong movement. 

What do you do? It might leave a wrong impression should you not say anything. The current times are plagued by high tension.  Numerous League of Villain attacks have rendered the surrounding regions on constant alert, news anchors telling folks to be wary of anyone or anything suspicious. Weighing your options, you decide to dismiss the stranger in kind as fast as humanly possible. 

Just act natural, act natural… “W-why do you say that?” 

Shit. Your first conversation with someone other than Dabi in over half a year has left you thoroughly horrified, pupils no doubt dilated and voice meeker than a mouse squeak. The stutter has you wincing, your naive companion undoubtedly picking up on it. You want nothing more than to shoo him off, but in fear of drawing unwanted attention, attempt to suppress your frayed nerves. You’ve been through worse than a strained conversation and made it out relatively unscatched, but this feels like a different type of battle. 

“You just seemed to be making quite the upset face,” he chuckles, reminiscing on the thought. He must’ve been referring to the glowering thinking about Dabi brought out from you. “I swear I’m not a creep or anything. I was just waiting to pick up my little sister, and happened to catch you scowling.” 

“The name’s Ryota. And you?” 

Suppressing panic that threatens to drown you, you swallow thickly. “I’m uh, Hina. The drink is fine… I just have a lot on my mind.” 

The lie is seasoned with enough truths that you hope it isn’t too transparent. Giving away your actual name could hint back to missing person’s cases, the thought of which would greatly displease Dabi. Besides, if it had been as simple as going to the police, you would’ve done it by now. You’ve grown uncomfortably familiar with Dabi’s workings, killing off a few people or bribing them would be one of the least heinous things in his portfolio. You figure the best case scenario here is that this well meaning Ryota character leaves you be, or else dire consequences will come to fruition. 

“Good to know, Hina-san. My lil sis talks about boba often, but I’ve never gotten that into it. I figure since the store’s right here, I should surprise her with a drink. What would you recommend?” 

You can’t help but greedily soak in the normalcy an interaction like this brings with it. The irritation from being drawn into a conversation is replaced with pity, a stronger resolve to keep this bystander out of harm’s way blooming. There’s no time to be wasted on the warmth erupting in your chest, or on the first genuine smiles in months that’s settled on your lips. To see the best humanity has to offer, after being subjected to the worst, is a much needed breath of fresh air. While it may be greedy to fixate on these aspects, you find yourself wanting to savor the moment of being a regular person. 

Surely, Dabi would understand your logic. 

“It depends on her tastes. If she likes sweeter drinks, I’d recommend Thai milk tea. If you’re not sure, classic milk tea is always a safe bet.” You’re proud of how you’ve been able to pull yourself together, speaking like you used to. With this, he should be set to leave, or at least you want to believe this. Unfortunately for you, life is never so easy. He doesn’t seem interested in going anywhere anytime soon, crossing his legs and leaning slightly closer to you. Realizing your mistake of radiating friendliness, your muscles go taut. 

You need to do something about this before it’s too late. 

Ryota scratches his head, mulling over your advice. “I’ll keep all that in mind. I appreciate your insight.” 

“It feels nice to be able to chill and talk like this every now and then. If I’m being honest, I was somewhat against my sister coming out to hang with friends,” Ryota’s tone takes a turn for the somber, face looking crestfallen. “With all the chaos that’s been around, y’know. It feels like everyday I wake up to more of those League of Villain stories. It feels like it’ll just be a matter of time until something happens near here.” 

“I’m sorry that--” 

“Things sure are rough,” A voice that brings out every negative emotion possible speaks up from behind you, Dabi’s familiar figure slithering into sight. He takes a seat on the bench, close to your person, wrapping a tight arm around your shoulder. “I hate to interrupt, but I need to borrow her for a bit. You mind?” 

Neither of you were expecting the sudden interruption, Ryota trying to piece everything together. “Oh, uh, not at all.’

Everything hits you like a ton of bricks. From Dabi’s rich cologne that mixes in with the smell of ash, his hair brushing against the side of your face, to the possessiveness of his grip. He squeezes your shoulder, looking from Ryota to you. It takes a moment to register what he’s communicating, but you’re able to decipher the gesture. In a last ditch attempt to salvage this situation, you confirm Dabi’s statement before things get ugly. Nodding your head, you watch with bated breath as Ryota looks from Dabi to you. He gets up from his spot on the bench, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It was nice talking to you.” 

Ryota heads off towards the mall doors, leaving you in the clutches of the devil incarnate. You feel how terribly warm Dabi is next to you, words wanting to spill out to justify the actions that led up to this moment. Before you get the opportunity to ramble out your thoughts, Dabi places a finger on your lips, looking at you with the same grin as always.

“Making some new friends, hm?” He inquires, drawing out the syllables. His finger goes south, lifting up your chin, and holding you close to his face. “Awe, babe. You look like you’re aboutta cry. Don’t give me that look.” 

You’re not sure if you should feel horrified at his sudden spike in talkativeness, or relieved over not having to speak your piece yet. The words wouldn’t be able to leave your mouth even if you wanted them to, a lump forming in your throat to coincide the dryness of your tongue. Dabi makes a point of emphasizing his engulfing height, having to tilt your head up to maintain eye contact. Not wanting to make a scene, you do everything within your power to still the tears that are threatening to spill out. There’s no visible signs of wrath, not that you can pick up on. He watches with great interest as you calm yourself, releasing the grip on your face and leaning back into the bench. 

When you appear sufficiently soothed, he speaks up once more, voice grating your ears. “So tell me, doll. What was all that about? I knew you’d be hurting for company in my absence, but I didn’t think you’d be so bold as to speak to someone else.” 

“I… I was approached, and… I swear, nothing happened. He just-- just wanted to know about a drink for his sister, and--” 

Dabi gently flicks your forehead, unable to stifle his cackling any longer. “I’m just messin’ with ya. I saw everything.” 

It doesn’t settle in immediately, the hypothetical cogs and gears of your head turning in slow motion. Your heart is pounding so violently that you hear it in your ears, your face erupting into a bright red. Humiliation, indignation, and finally, loathing take turns dominating your mind. He’s always had the best of times playing with you at your own expense, poking and prodding to see what reactions he can get. There’s a knee jerk reaction to want to slap him, anything to let out these overflowing feelings. Knowing that getting bothered is what he finds the most pleasure in, you’re further motivated to gain control over yourself. 

A deep breath. Inhale, exhale. You continue repeating these steps, biting your tongue to the point it stings. Dabi rests his head on his fist, watching you calm yourself down through lidded eyes. You really do get yourself worked up so easily, it’s endearing. He wants to pinch your cheeks and tease you more, but is feeling generous enough to give you this time to gather yourself. There’ll be plenty of time to play with you later, occupying himself with this cute sight placates him for the time being. When you finally reopen your eyes, you’re met with the deplorable sight of Dabi’s crooked grin. 

“Can we just… go home? Please?” You hate how weak your voice sounds. You hate everything about this situation, about the life that you’ve been forced into living. How you have to adapt to unspoken rules, subjected to twists and turns that never let you lower your guard. Most of all, you hate the person who has done this to you. His touch, his scent, his voice, all of it. You want nothing more than to scream at him at the top of your lengths, ripping that satisfied looking off his flesh and ridding yourself of this turmoil once and for all.

“Hm? Already? I thought you were hoping to get some dinner out tonight.” Dabi keeps up an air of nonchalance, likely wanting to hear you repeat yourself. Not willing to give in outright, you instead bunch up the fabric of his jacket with your hand. 

“Dabi…” 

It’s a low plea. You know you’ve gotten your point across ages ago, but he’s deriving too much pleasure from seeing how you squirm. The painful utterance serves you well, earning the slightest bit of reprieve as he gets up. On shaky legs, you follow after him, head downcast. Fixating on the tops of your shoes, you wonder if distracting yourself might do anything to ease your tormented soul. The events of the day have left you thoroughly exhausting, and nothing sounds better to you than sleeping for as long as he’ll allow you.

“Alright, alright. Let’s head on back,” he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. No longer having strength to muster up in retaliation, you let him do as he pleases, still fighting down sniffles. “Don’t bother your pretty little head about this.” 

You don’t bother honoring him with a reaction. 

Dabi takes a final glance over his shoulder, spotting the pesky man from before, who is still waiting against a wall. He takes a mental picture of the notable features, lips settling into a deep frown. How troublesome. Before you notice anything, he picks up his pace, continuing the walk back to his apartment. Ideas and resentment swirl within his mind like a tornado, pent up frustration begging to be released. 

All in due time, he thinks.

[fyeah-bangtan7]

SUGA: “This is the only thing I know how to really do”

On tvN’s You Quiz on the Block, SUGA told stories from before his debut. The period of his life when he struggled with how to live off his music. SUGA and BTS have kept going and going for eight years, and now he’s on their grounds, where he can do anything he wants musically. What began with that long journey is the story of SUGA holding his head up higher and staring at the future, reaching for it.

How are you feeling after your shoulder surgery? You’re doing physical therapy in parallel with work. SUGA: I’m all right. I’m keeping up with the physical therapy, too. I had surgery last year because I wanted to be able to go back to work sooner. I have nothing else to do except music.

You said that there’s nothing for you to do other than music in the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, too. SUGA: It’s true. I tried gaming, but I have no talent for it. The people I play with online get so frustrated if I do. I mean, I’m working hard and got some recognition in my life, and yet people bash me so hard in games. (laughs)

I wonder if there’s a game you can do better in than you do in your career. You’re currently at your sixth week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 [with “Butter, at the time of this interview]. (laughs) How are you feeling these days? SUGA: When we were at number one for two weeks straight, I was like, Wow, this is so amazing! But after the fifth or sixth week, we really started to talk about it between ourselves: I really can’t believe this. Anyway, I feel like I have a responsibility. And I think I’ll end up thinking much, much more when we get ready for the next promotion. Even if I just try to enjoy this situation, it hasn’t sunk in. We can’t leave the country, plus there’s lots of issues in the world right now that are much more important than how well we perform on the charts.

As you say, it’s a tough situation, all over the world. How do you feel about releasing “Permission to Dance,” with its positive message, at this point in time? SUGA: It seems like everyone around the world is really tired of this situation dragging out. I wanted to convey a message that tells people to keep hanging on to hope until the very end. Whereas we released the album BE in this situation, seemingly without any certainty, I believe things will slowly get better now. I don’t know if we can go back to the way things were before, but I’m still working with the hope that we can return to a situation that resembles what we had before.

Aren’t you tired of the pandemic being in this prolonged state? SUGA: I look at it as, when you lose one thing, you gain another. I ended up being able to see my family more since I’m in Korea. In that sense, I feel more stable, so I’m not so much tired as hoping each day that things will become okay soon. I keep moving back and forth between work and home, and I’ve started to reflect on parts of myself I didn’t know about before. Like that I feel somewhat comfortable when I start and finish work at a certain time. While I used to have to go to bed at a certain time for work the next day or else I had a hard time getting up early, now I know I’ve figured out what time I should wake up at to make sure I feel good all day. What I pursue in life is emotional stability, and I don’t think there’s really anything too exciting or sad happening these days.

What effect do those emotions have when you work on music? SUGA: They don’t have a big effect on it. I think it affects the way I write lyrics a bit, but I’m not working on any lyrics at the moment. I’ve been making music for a long time, so I think it’s possible for me to express emotions I’m not feeling in the moment. And it’s good that we released “Permission to Dance” in this kind of situation.

You sing rather than rap in “Permission to Dance.” In addition to rapping, you started singing more both before and after BE. What did you learn about your voice? SUGA: “Permission to Dance” was a little bit difficult. I don’t draw a line between singing and rapping or anything, but it was different from our usual style, and the vocals were a bit high, too. So even though it took a while to prepare for it, I worked hard, and even when I asked some older musicians for their opinions, they all said, “It’s good the way you’re doing it. Don’t try to sing better—just sing more.” I think my only option is to sing more, like they suggested.

As far as style goes, you’ve been doing a smoother kind of pop music. Did any differences arise as a result of these changes? SUGA: All things considered, the English was the hardest part. I paid close attention to my pronunciation in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” It wasn’t easy to capture that smooth feeling in the songs, so I practiced my pronunciation quite a bit. And I end up breathing a lot when I’m doing an English song, but the rap parts were a bit hard for that reason. There’s a clear difference from Korean songs, since English has so many syllables. But I don’t have any one method I stick with for my vocals yet, so I tend to try lots of different things out.

What do you make of BTS’s achievements over the past year with “Permission to Dance” and “Butter,” as well as the group’s change in style? In the space of a year, you’ve released songs in a style different from MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 or BE. SUGA: As a producer, I think reactions are important to an artist who works within the field of popular music. With that in mind, speaking as a producer, “Dynamite,” “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” were the best choices. And musical tastes are different from country to country, and the cultures are different, too. Given that situation, I think it’s important that we’re a group who can send such a universal message out into the world.

BTS has really grown and changed a lot, starting with “No More Dream” and all the way to “Permission to Dance.” SUGA: I think it’s a natural course of event for those of us who make pop music. Artists mix and match different genres as they grow, and the music develops as the people of its time listen to it. I’ve been listening to a ton of music lately, and thanks to the times we live in, if I listen to a song a few times, they recommend me more songs in a similar style. And after listening to them, I realized the style of hip hop is also changing and is splitting off into different offshoots. Other than hip hop, I also listen to a lot of instrumental music. I’ve always liked Hans Zimmer’s music. There have been many times where a movie I like turns out to have music by Hans Zimmer.

What is it about Hans Zimmer’s music that draws you in? SUGA: I like orchestral music. There’s a lot of pop songs that are under the three-minute mark now, and whereas it’s sort of predetermined that they’re always written with intros that are four bars long, orchestral music can do a lot within its framework.

But, as can be seen in IU’s song “eight,” which you both produced and featured on, you broke out of pop music’s typical composition style and tried out a highly condensed progression. The composition of the chorus is very straightforward. SUGA: Yes. I insisted that the flow be roughly cut in half from that of a typical song, and I expect more pop music will be like that in the future. And maybe even shorter as time goes on. I mean, these days there’s songs that are under two minutes, even.

Regardless, I felt the chorus in “eight” is extremely dramatic with its structure and the melody of the chorus. I thought it was rather grand in scale as well. Would you say that you’re attempting to mix your tastes and things you want to do into the structure of pop music? SUGA: As you know, I love hip hop, so when I was first making music I thought it had to be hip hop no matter what and that I had to take pride in my own ideas and not accept any compromise. But while getting some experience at the forefront of pop music, I figured out that you can keep being stubborn or inflexible because there are people listening to you. There was a time I made music without any listeners before I became a member of BTS. But if someone were to ask if I stopped being stubborn about the music I’m making these days, the answer’s no. As I grew up and became an adult, I came to realize that I have to negotiate between what I want to do and the kind of music the public wants without compromising anything. When I give up on something I wanted to do, I ask myself, What will I get out of this? And conversely, when I want to do something, I ask myself, What can I get out of this? That’s how I keep my balance to make it to where I am now.

You have no choice but to think about those things when you work on other artists’ songs, especially when you’re a producer. SUGA: I’m BTS’s SUGA, and I’m Agust D, and when I’m producing, I go by “by SUGA.” But when it comes to by SUGA, I make perfectly commercial music. I’m the producer for those songs, sure, but the owner is someone else, you know? In that case, they’re commissioning my work. But they wouldn’t think about just leaving it all with SUGA. The artist’s label has to think carefully about whether to commission me for producing and consider my situation, too, and those people must be hoping for something commercial. That’s the most important part of working with outside people. Actually, that kind of work isn’t much of a benefit to me, to be honest. Oh, he can write this kind of song, too. That’s all. The more valuable thing I can get from it is the recognition and records the artist or the company will get with the song instead.

As you noted in your previous Weverse Magazine interview, when you discussed your “interest in the music industry in the US,” you seem to constantly think about the things artists can do within the framework of the music industry. SUGA: I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve become more certain since the pandemic started that I’m the kind of person who always has to be doing music. That much I know for sure, so I want to keep on making good music. And the pop music market is something that came about because there were people listening, and there’s a long history to the US music market, and it possesses the most influential charts in the whole word. So then I thought, Wouldn’t they have gone through all the same things that we have? And really, whenever I talk to other pop stars, the situation is always similar. The US is also more realistic about commercial results than any other country. I wanted an accurate picture of how those people work. Right now, Korean pop music’s spread is in full swing and we need more good artists to keep popping up. From a producer’s standpoint, if that’s going to happen, I think the key is how well we can mix our music and the characteristics of overseas music industries overall.

How did it feel to be in the lineup for the Grammy Awards, one of the icons of the US music industry? SUGA: The feeling was less immediate because we couldn’t be there in person, and it wasn’t a huge distinction, but the performance made me think, This is different, because it’s the Grammys. What changed my view from the first time I went to an American music awards ceremony was, the first time I went, I was really scared of the world’s biggest music market. But when I look back now, I don’t think I had any reason to feel that intimidated. To be honest, I have only now begun to enjoy the awards ceremonies; I wasn’t able to then.

It’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve achieved most of the things that you can as an artist in the music industry. What steps do you think are necessary for the artists who follow after BTS? SUGA: The way artists work seems so difficult. They make an appearance on a different music show every day once the promotional period begins, meaning the exhaustion artists face is enormous, and that fatigue often results in injuries as it adds up. That kind of music show is for promotional purposes, so it’s not like the artists can earn a proper income from them. On top of that, despite all the promoting, there’s no visible outcome, so they inevitably lose morale. If possible, it’d be nice to have one of the performances be really high-quality, even if it’s just the one, but in this environment I’d say that’s pretty difficult. And since our job doesn’t fit the common conception of work, there’s ambiguous boundaries when it comes to issues of legal protection as well. We need a lot of improvements to be made to the industry and its system.

They demand a lot of things as collateral for success, yet success is extremely difficult to attain. SUGA: The great thing about the label I’m with is they listen to the artists’ opinions. I think both we and the label know to a certain degree what kinds of activities would be best commercially speaking. But the question is whether the body can endure it or not. If the fatigue builds up as you continuously do those promotional activities, it’s hard to do them the way you did when you first debuted. In that case, I think the label ought to actively accommodate the artist’s views about what they can and cannot do. An attitude that’s just like, Oh, we made you kids, and as long as you just do what we tell you to it’ll all work out, so just do it—I think that really doesn’t make any sense. Of course, there could still be situations where the label has to be pushy like that, obviously. But I heard there’s been times where a label will just say, Do it, without any explanation to the artist, or, Why are you talking so much? I think that’s the biggest issue and it’s destroying the industry. If you just see the artist as a product, how can they do anything creative? I really think it’s very contradictory to ask the people on stage to put on an enjoyable performance when they’re experiencing neither fun nor enjoyment.

That reminds me of the music video for “Daechwita” somehow. You appear onscreen as both a rebel character and a king, looking as different as your situation when you first debuted with BTS and your situation now. SUGA: There was a lot I wanted to do in “Daechwita,” not just musically but also visually, and a lot of ideas came to me as I came to reflect on who I am as a person while working on the music video. It naturally occurred to me to separate SUGA, by SUGA and Agust D. The character I played in that video who wasn’t the king was a stranger. It takes place during the Joseon era, but then there’s cars and guns, which of course don’t belong in that era. I think we’ve been living our lives that way. Right from our debut, a portion of the hip hop lovers criticized us by saying, They’re idols. But at the same time, we heard things like, They’re not idols. I didn’t know which drumbeat to march to, so I think that’s why each of our albums took a different direction than people were expecting. But I don’t think I can call myself a stranger in this situation anymore. So these days my main goal is to keep going with BTS for a long time. Having a huge audience show up at our concerts is nice, but I think the goal for all of us is to make sure the group can keep making music even as we get older. I think right now we’re thinking a lot about how we can have fun and be happy on stage.

What do you mean when you say fun and happy music? SUGA: I think people are happier the busier I am, so lately I’ve been thinking that I need to focus a little more. I figure we should do as much as we can for ARMY since they feel happy watching us. We’ll continue to try our best, so I hope they believe in BTS and keep their eyes on us.

So that’s why you do music. SUGA: This is the only thing I know how to really do. Other than music and BTS, there’s nothing special about me when I look at this 28-year-old Min Yoongi. That’s why I want to keep doing this.

© source

[katieskarlette]

Hi, all.  Sorry I haven’t been around much.

I’ve been following what’s going on in WoW through YouTube and WoWhead, but I haven’t played since last summer.  I’m just so tired of the whole thing. And by “thing” I mean both the lore and the fandom.

[Negativity warning.]

It seems like everything that happens lately in lore falls into one of these categories:

Established characters do things that are out-of-character, often for no reason other than to move the plot in the direction Blizz wants.

Established characters do things that are in-character, but in such generic ways that anybody could have been plugged into the scene and it wouldn’t have many any real difference.

We’re suddenly expected to care about brand-new characters/story elements that haven’t earned it, often because Blizzard quickly slaps up a curtain behind established lore and then immediately rips it down, saying, “Aha!  This is what was really going on!”  They expect us to react with the same emotional investment to Zovaal and the First Ones as we do to characters from WCII and WCIII.  Call it a retcon, call it a recontextualization, but they’re trying to take shortcuts to make us care about the story, and it doesn’t work that way.  This leaves an especially sour taste when they trample on cornerstones of past lore (i.e. Ner’zhul, Kel’thuzad) in order to prop up the newbies.

The plot focuses on confusing, cosmic-scale concepts that have no emotional resonance.

I have really mixed feelings about a lot of the recent story beats:  some positive, some negative, and some apathetic.  The apathy makes me feel the saddest, honestly.  I used to be so engaged with the lore, writing long meta posts and fanfics, breathlessly waiting for every new tidbit.  To not feel much of anything is honestly depressing.

As for the fandom, well...most of the sane people have quit and moved on, while it seems like those who stay are never happy.  Like too much of the real world, there are deep divisions and hostility.  And that’s just with the lore!  The behind-the-scenes problems at Acti-Blizz are another level of discourse entirely, and I’m not mentally up to engaging with that.

It’s all so tiring, and I don’t want to invest my finite time/energy in something that brings me more stress than joy.  I want to fall back in love with the franchise, and I hope 10.0 will reel me back in.  In the meantime, well...I still love the Warcraft universe, but I’m not in love with it right now.

ETA:  I don’t know how to feel about the brand-new 9.2 Sylvanas stuff.  The cinematic with Uther was absolutely gorgeous and I want to be cautiously optimistic about it all, but whatever opinion I end up settling on, there will be tons of people who disagree, and there will be fandom angst regardless.

[puppy-phum]

2020 – a (content creator) year in review

I decided to make this into a mix of these two games I was (kinda?) tagged into so thank you for @leonzhng and @tiesanjiao ♥ I hope you don’t mind me doing it like this ^^ all the questions were just so interesting that I wanted to try!

(bc of the amount of questions, I’m placing them under a cut so that I don’t flood anyone’s dash) 

Me

(this is the 2020 year in review that hanyi tagged me to ♥ sorry am so late!)

Top 5 Movies you saw this year

wow tbh I didn’t watch many movies this year as I realized yesterday when I was thinking about this for certain reasons. Or at least I feel like I didn’t watch that many? Nothing really stuck with me it seems.

Because of this, I will only mention two: Parasite and The Old Guard. Those were both wonderful in their own ways and I’m very happy I got to watch them both ^^

Top 5 TV shows you watched this year

this one is difficult bc I watched so many (and forgot even more?) but:

The Lost Tomb Reboot (my introduction to DMBJ. this drama stole my heart and helped me through the tough autumn semester!) 

Joy of Life (it’s nuts that this happened during 2020? it feels like it was ages ago)

Kingdom (such a positive surprise and I really hope we get more of this :o I really recommend!)

Detective L (easy, nice aesthetics, amazing costumes. Bai Yu was a delight as Luo Fei)

Sand Sea (I am still baffled by how much I loved this bc I had so many doubts? am happy I did tho)

Bonus: Guardian (bc it has come to stay and the rewatch has been so emotional but so rewarding)

Top 5 songs of 2020

this is a tough one too bc I’ve heard so much new music during 2020 but I will try to put it simply:

Black Swan by BTS (I absolutely adore this song. I listened to it on repeat when it came out at the beginning of the year, I have cried for it a ton, I enjoy every stage I see for it and it’s just a masterpiece. it has also helped a bit with my writing struggles that I’ve felt creeping up on me lately)

Always by By The Coast (an amazing song that always leaves me in my feels. inspires me a lot all the time)

Love me or Leave me by DAY6 (this whole album was a masterpiece and I listened to it on loop for like. two weeks? this was my favorite song on it even if I adored the rest too, especially Zombie)

all of my life by Park Won (listened to this a lot in relation to my xicheng and the wedding I finally got to write for them ;; that’s one good thing that came out of this year tbh)

雨人 by 刘畅 (Liu Chang) (with the Reboot’s ending song, this one is my favorite on that ost. I love Liu Chang’s voice, I loved Liu Sang as a character and as I said, I loved Reboot as a drama. I get super emotional about this ost so I think it defined this year a lot for me)

Top 5 books you read in 2020  

All For The Game -trilogy (listened to these as audiobooks but that counts right?)

The Song of Achilles (as an audiobook too and really adored the reader’s voice)

The Smoke Thieves -series (I really just binge read the two first books in this series and am so excited for the next one!)

Call Down The Hawk (love love love)

Guardian novel (am not very into these novels usually but I was positively surprised this time? it was so cool to finally get the original story and compare it with the drama version)

5 positive things that happened in 2020

joined mdzsnet and met all the amazing ppl there and got to become part of this loving community and :’) I’m so thankful, it’s been a joy

learned more about editing? or started doing it regularly. I still can’t do shit but am having fun learning more all the time and I really hope that maybe the upcoming year I can switch to PS and try out giffing?

went to Halsey’s concert! it was in february so a bit before all the hassle with covid happened over here ;; it was super cool and so nice and I just. I love Halsey

fell into the DMBJ hellhole which am very much enjoying. it’s a great universe and the story is so good and the dramas have been so fun to watch and. it feels like a good continuation to The Untamed somehow haha (also brought me a new friend! you’re amazing ashen!! ♥)

started therapy and it’s been... a journey. but towards something better I think? it’s something I would’ve needed ages ago but it’s better late than never I suppose

My Creations

(this is the other part where ali was being super sweet and mentioned me ♥ thank you for being so awesome!)

1. first creation and most recent creation of 2020: wow it’s been a while since I’ve looked at this horrible creation but here ya go jkdhgk [x]. I’ve come a long way from this (and my xicheng has come a long way from this too). most recent one is this xiaoge edit that I absolutely adore [x]. 

2. one of your favorite creations from 2020: this wwx edit that was part of my agust d2 edit series [x]. I loved to give him blue instead of his typical red. 

3. a new style you tried this year and a gifset edit that uses it: this [x] wwx edit which I don’t know if I like or not but I was playing around with the font and all the effects instead of just normal screenshots + coloring. also I just adore the quote. 

4. a creation to be proud of: I could mention that xiaoge here but in addition, I will also say this wu xie edit for reboot [x]. I managed to capture my vision so well, I was surprised. for cql, this songxiao edit [x]. I loved how it turned out in the end. 

5. a creation that took forever: this wangxian edit [x]. like I’ve said several times, I lost sleep bc of it. I just kept struggling with the third pic and how to place the text there D: 

6. your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: this lwj/wangxian edit [x]. I had many ideas for this edit when I first started making it and I never managed to capture my vision in the way I first intended... the pictures I was supposed to use just never fit quite right sigh. I dunno why it was this one that gained all the notes in the end bc I personally think I have better ones too but am still thankful :’D 

7. a creation you think deserved more notes: as said, dmbj fandom on tumblr is very small so I really want to say the two already mentioned ones (wu xie and xiaoge) and then my pingxie edits [x] [x]. also these wwx edits which I personally am very happy about [x] [x]. and from my agust d2 series, this yun bros one [x].

8. a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: really just dmbj this year and I’ve already linked all of my creations for that :’D tho I have plans for another pingxie edit and a liu sang edit! oh and maybe I could mention guardian here with this shen wei [x]. I had so much fun while making it (also the quote just haunted me relentlessly until I gave it a moment). 

9. a creation you made that breaks your heart: this must be my easter islanders (lwj and jc) edit [x] that just. awoke many thoughts in me? I’m going to put a link to the version where you can read my ramblings underneath :’D 

10. a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: my creation for the creator (gif?) challenge that was going around! [x] it was simple and nice to do and I loved the result. also, it was nice to work with jl for a change :’) 

11. a favorite creation created by someone else: oh wow ok so this is going to be rough bc I have so many favorites ;; you can look at this post here [x] to see more! 

but to love my two taggers am going to say these [x / x] [x] [x] [x] [x] by hanyi (I always love your edits, the colors you choose, the thoughts you put into them (and your humor too!). there are so many cool things you’ve done that I just stay in awe of! I adore all of it ;; ♥) and these [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] by ali (I love all of your gifsets so much, they have such pretty colors and such good scenes, and I am thankful every day that you make all the amazing dmbj content, pls never stop ;; I should go through all of your creations properly one day! I noticed you have sand sea stuff too and let me scream?) ^^ ♥

12. your favorite content creators and blogs that you appreciate: this is going to be a huge list and I’ve already made my love heard for some but no hurt in doing it again so @i-am-just-a-kiddo @ashenwren @tiesanjiao @kholran @lzswy @englishbunnyrocks @leonzhng @aheartfullofjolllly @yibobibo @inkblue-black @cross-d-a @bloody-bee-tea @fytheuntamed @mdzsnet @lifegoesmon @creeds-eagle @underaswift-sunrise @sarawatsaraleo @lan-xichens @mylastbraincql @wangxianbunnydoodles @manhasetardis @distantsnows @ohsehuns @minmoyu @linglynz @highwarlockkareena @yiqiie @aowyn @alienwlw @wangxiians @kingbadcat @sassyassassy @tytangfei @lanzhannnn @skzmxtp @leoyunxi @yoonqiful @softjeon @rapbabenamjoon @ronan-adam @miyakuli @pavusdorian @arsuf @brolinskeep @gawincaskeyy and so many others! (sorry for all the random ppl on this list that I’ve never even talked to ^^’ just know that you make my dash a wonderful place! ♥) 

I won’t tag anyone separately here but everyone who’s already been tagged or sees this is free to do this (or link me posts if you’ve done these already!) ♥ have a nice day everyone! 

[thewildsophia]

.The Consequences of Consuming Paint. Clone High//Van Gogh x Reader

Trigger Warning:

Referenced self-harm, Attempted suicide, Talk about self-hatred.

A/N: I know this might be difficult to read, and if you don’t feel comfortable reading this kind of stuff then I recommend not, but I really felt that this was somewhat accurate to his character. The actual Van Gogh was depressed and tried to end his life multiple times so it felt  only fitting that clone Van Gogh be the same way.

Suicidal!Van Gogh x Depressed!Reader

Word Count: 5151

~~~~~~~~~~

To put it simply, there was something wrong with Van Gogh. As of late, he seemed more irritable and tired, didn’t enjoy doing activities with you and, one of the more concerning to you, wasn’t eating as much. He was already a pretty small, thin guy, and the thought that he wasn’t eating made you worry more than normal. 

You already knew Van Gogh was depressed, it was part of the reason you became friends, but it seemed that his symptoms were getting worse. With everything going on, you were scared that he would try to do something he’d regret. 

You thought this because, like Van Gogh, you too were depressed and knew how impulsive people could become when they were hurting. 

You were currently in Painting II with him. He was getting his work done, but he was lacking the normally present enjoyment he usually had. He seemed distracted, simply idly correcting a few mistakes in the piece he had made the day before. You had tried to start a conversation with him, but it was difficult to hold it since he wasn’t really interested, only offering a few word responses. 

It left a bad taste in your mouth. Even if he wasn’t a very outgoing person, he would normally converse with you like there was no tomorrow. 

You eventually left it alone, opting to work in silence for the rest of the class. He never made an effort to talk to you afterwards. 

Class ends and you notice how slow Van Gogh gathers his things. You decide to help him, putting the paints and brushes he was using away. When you turned around you noticed that he had left before you could walk him out. 

For the rest of the day you tried to get your work done in your classes, but you just couldn’t help but wonder if he was alright. At first you were simply worried about him, but after that class you were terrified. Since you two didn’t have anymore classes after that you tried to look for him in the halls while transitioning classes, but to no avail. 

It was the end of the day and you at your lockers grabbing the books you needed to do your homework. You were planning to head over to Van Gogh’s dorm to check up on him before heading over to yours for the night. Before you close your locker, however, you felt a tap on the back of your shoulder. Turning around you were met with the blue eyes of Van Gogh. 

“There you are!” You said while closing your locker, “I’ve been looking around for you.” You finished. He looked away a moment and scratched the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, sorry. I haven’t exactly been myself lately which…I’m sure you could tell.” He said, shifting from his right foot to his left, “I’ve had a lot to deal with recently and have had a crap ton of things on my mind. I just…wanted to thank you for being by me and supporting me all this time.” 

You stayed silent; it was a technique you learned in psychology where if you stayed quiet someone would keep talking. And sure enough, he did.

“So, thank you for always being there to help me,” He looked up at you and smiled. 

But it wasn’t right. 

It seemed a bit forced and the emotion behind it didn’t convey joy or happiness, but despair and regret instead. It was a smile you knew all too well, and you had a pretty good idea about what he was planning to do. However, you decided to play dumb.

“Of course,” You started, “I’ll always be here for you, Vincent. Even if you’re at your lowest, I’ll be there to dust you off and pick you back up. I’d…be lost if something were to happen to you.” You said, hoping that your choice of words would get him to reconsider. You saw his smile drop slightly.

“Is there…something you need to talk about?” You ask after a moment.

“No, no, I just wanted to thank you for standing by me,” He said, “You were really the best friend someone could ask for.”

Were.

“Thanks,” You said, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling you had in your stomach, “If you ever need to talk just stop by my dorm or send me a text, got it?” You ask him, receiving a nod. 

“I’ve got to get going. My teachers didn’t hesitate to assignment a bunch or work.” He said turning around and walking away.

“Alright, see you tomorrow!” You shouted before he left. He only turned to look at you and smiled. He turned back around and continued walking. 

He already had his mind set.

You felt that coiling in your stomach and this time you actually felt like you were going to be sick. You gave him some time to get to his dorm -- you knew how long it took since you and him constantly walked there after school -- before you made your way there. 

You shifted on your feet a moment before giving a hesitant knock. You waited a moment before knocking harder, calling his name.

“Van Gogh? You there?” You shouted, “It’s me, Y/N.” You waited another minute before you decided that it had been long enough. You quickly searched for the key to his dorm, finding it and opening the door quickly.

The lights were off but you could see the mass on the bed that you assumed was Van Gogh. You turned the lights on and quickly made you way over to him. While running over there, a note on his desk caught your attention. 

You looked over at it briefly, only reading the first line and you quickly realized what it was. 

His suicide letter.

You quickly looked over at him, ignoring the tears that were welling up in your eyes, grabbed his shoulder and shook him. 

“Van Gogh?” You called out, shaking him a bit harder, but there was no response from him. That sinking feeling returned as you quickly removed the covers finding no blood, but instead…paint?

You looked down at your feet and saw that, in your haste, you had been standing on empty tubes of paint, most of them being yellow. 

“What did he…?” You questioned, before seeing an empty bottle of turpentine. 

“Did you…!” You asked out loud before checking his mouth and, sure enough, there was a collage of different colors. Blues, greens, purples, reds and yellows -- all matching the tubes scattered around the floor -- mashed together, illustrating his despair.

“You-IDIOT.” You shouted as you quickly picked him up, relieved at how warm he still was, and made your way to his bathroom. 

You gently placed him in the bathtub and turned on the water. You got in, sitting behind him and placing him in between your legs. You held him close to you with your left arm as you, despite wanting to, shoved your fingers into his mouth.

You hated doing this, but you knew that this had to be done. You had to get the paint and turpentine out of his body. 

It was disgusting, feeling the warm paint slide between your fingers as you pushed them even farther into his mouth. You didn’t even try to hold the tears and sobs back as your attempt to help him seemed to fail. 

“Van Gogh…VINCENT!” You sobbed into the back of his neck as you kept prodding at his throat. “PLEASE. Please. please, please, please, please, please…don’t leave me.” You cried.

“Please…I love you. I love you so much so PLEASE…stay. Stay so that I can tell you that to your face.” You were still screaming, sobbing and about to pull your fingers out in defeat before it happened. 

You felt it, warm and wet, before you actually saw it. 

A jumble of bright colors, with the distinct color of vomit, decorated your arm and was quickly dragged down the drain by the water. 

“Van Gogh…” You said, removing your fingers and listening to him cough for a moment. 

“Who…?” He asked quietly. You barely heard him over the running water. Relief quickly ran through your system, tangling with your anxiety and fear, as you wrapped both arms around his middle section, feeling him take gulping breaths of air.

“Me-It’s me. It’s Y/N.” You said while gently rocking him in the water. The paint and vomit had stained your long sleeve shirt and was most likely getting on Van Gogh’s coat, but you didn’t care. 

“Van Gogh,” You said as his breath evened out, “Vincent, I love you. I love you so damn much. Don’t…don’t leave me. Not like this. Never like this.” You said as the tears of relief mixed with the ones of despair on your cheeks. Neither of you moved or spoke for a moment before you felt his arms on your own that were around his waist. 

“Okay,” He began, his voice a lot more hoarse than normal, “Okay, I’ll stay.” He said while shifting in your arms to face you. His own cheeks, although difficult to tell with the water, were stained with tears. His face was flush and eyes red and you assumed you looked the same.

“I love you,” Were his next words, “I love you too.” You felt that coiling return and this time you didn’t ignore it. It didn’t feel bad this time, but instead somewhat enjoyable. You pressed him to your chest, embracing him tightly. He returned the favor, wrapping his arms around your neck. You heard and felt him cough a few times on you but it didn’t bother you. 

You stayed in there, water pouring over you, until your fingers pruned up and the water turned cold. When he pulled away there were paint stains on your shirt where his face had been pressed into it. You stood up, turning off the water and helped Van Gogh out of the tub. 

The two of you awkwardly stood there for a moment. Both of you were soaked to your core. After a moment, Van Gogh spoke up.

“I’ll…get us some dry clothing.” He began ringing out his clothes over the tub and, hesitantly, started to take his coat off. Upon doing so revealed the orange-cream color v-neck shirt you had bought for him. It also revealed the soaking wet bandages that covered both of his forearms. You frowned, but didn’t stare since you knew how annoying it was. 

He squeezed the rest of the water out before saying, 

“I’ll be right back.” He left the room and you stood there for around a minute before the door opened again. 

In his arms were a few towels, a plastic bag and clothing. He handed them to you explaining,

“Sorry, these were the only clothes I had that would fit you since you’re taller than me and all.” He scratched the back of his neck, “Uh, I’ll leave you to it.” He said awkwardly before leaving the bathroom again.

You hadn’t even looked at the clothes until after you had stripped down and dried yourself off. Upon inspecting them you encountered a problem.

They were short sleeved.

Specifically a short sleeved t-shirt and pair of shorts.

You felt yourself frown as you looked at the clothing and then at yourself in the mirror. You may be a lot better than you were before, but you were still very, very, self conscious about how many scars you had. You were especially worried at how Van Gogh would react to seeing them after…that. 

You had  never told him you were depressed and telling him that you were this way wasn’t exactly appealing to you.

Nonetheless, you put the clothes on deciding that revealing clothes are better than wet ones. You placed your wet clothing in the bag before making your way to the door. You hesitated a moment, before slowly cracking the door open and looking out.

You spotted Van Gogh in new clothes undoing the wrappings on his head before he noticed you peeking out.

“Do the clothes fit?” He asked, pausing his movements. 

“Yeah…” You said opening the door all the way and stepping out. His eyes widened and his shoulders slouched, his hands still in his hair. It was quiet for a moment. 

“So uh…” You started after a minute, “I guess you were bound to find out someday. I had just hoped it wouldn’t be like…this.” You said, gesturing to yourself. He looked away from you, returning to unwrapping his head bandages. Once done he pulled the bandages away, revealing his ear to you.

It actually wasn’t as bad as people had said it was. A little over half of it was gone and there was dark scarring around the edge of it, yet it still didn’t look “disfigured” per say; just different. 

“I’m not really one to judge,” Van Gogh said, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I’m sure you could tell by now that I’m no better.” He finished with a nervous chuckle. He idly picked at the bandages around his arms as he met your gaze. 

Neither of you were sure what to do, simply looking at the other wait for them to do something. 

“Here,” You said after it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything, “Let me help you rewrap everything.” You made your way over to him and sat down next to him on the bed. Hesitantly, he offered you an arm and you gently began unwrapping it. You felt his eyes on you the whole time.

It was an all too familiar sight, one that usually didn’t faze you anymore. It did this time since you knew that this was Van Gogh and that he did this to himself. You couldn’t help the tears that began to well up in your eyes, but you did your best to ignore them. It was only when one of them hit Van Gogh’s did you do something.

“Y/N?” Van Gogh asked but you held a hand up quieting him. 

“I’m fine.” You said, gesturing for him to give you his other arm. He did, and you began unwrapping that one too. You held both arms together and briefly looked at Van Gogh to see him staring directly at some of your own. 

Normally, something like this bothered you, but it didn’t this time. 

You rubbed his hands with your thumbs before you leaned down to press a kiss to both of them. When you looked up you saw Van Gogh staring at you with tears in his eyes. You took both of his hands into your own before stroking his cheek. You pressed a kiss to his other cheek before standing up. 

“Where do you keep your bandages?” You asked. 

“In my desk. Middle drawer on the left.” He answered and you made your way over there. The note briefly caught your attention before you turned it back to finding the bandages. You scrounge around for a moment before finding what you were looking for. You walked back over and set the bandages, along with rubbing alcohol and cotton pads, on the bed. You brought his hands into your lap before you got to work, first cleaning them with alcohol and covering them. You did your best to ignore the small whimpers of pain Van Gogh would make when you cleaned a particularly fresh cut. 

Once done, you threw the used cotton pads away and returned the other supplies to the drawer. You looked back over to Van Gogh noticing that he had curled up into himself, pulling his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. 

“Hey,” You said, getting his attention, “Let me cook you some dinner. You’ll feel better afterwards.” He looked away a moment before asking,

“Do you think we could cover my ear first?” 

“No,” You began and for a moment he looked taken aback, “Wait for your hair to dry first and then we’ll cover them. Otherwise the bandages will just get wet again.” He frowned, but you could tell he understood. 

“You know, I always thought you had cut off the whole ear, not just part.” You say. He looks up, “This is honestly an upgrade. In my opinion at least; it gives you character, makes you stand out in a good way.” You say while slowly walking over to him before taking him into your arms.

“Come on, don’t look so sad.” You said while laying back on the bed on your side, Van Gogh pressed against you. He wrapped his arms around you and held onto you tighter as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. You stayed quiet for a moment before speaking up.

“Look,” You started, feeling his eyes land on you, “I of all people probably understand what you’re going through. Hell, I probably know what you’re thinking right now. Probably something like, ‘What do I do now?’ and ‘Where do I go from here?’. Something like that, right?” 

He looks at you shocked before asking, “How do you know this?” It seemed that he realized the answer before you actually said it because you saw his jaw snap shut after asking.

“I…also tried to, you know, end my life. Twice actually.” You added with a nervous chuckle. “I’ve been doing my best to get better and, even though I’m not all the way there, I’ve begun to like living again. And I think that’s possible for you to achieve that too.” You look down at him and notice how the tears had fallen from his eyes, but he had a blank stare.

He was probably spaced out you figured. You knew he heard what you said but he just could really respond. 

“Listen, I know you don’t want to talk about this tonight and we don’t have to, but let me take care of you. Please?” You explain. He shifts in your arms a moment before saying,

“Alright.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead and, reluctantly, pulling away from him. 

“Great. I’ll cook some dinner for us.” You walked over to his kitchen to see what you could make. Upon looking around, you noticed that he didn’t have much to cook with, most of the things he had were prepackaged or frozen. 

“Wow, you’ve got nothing.” You say under your breath as you close the cabinet, “No wonder you’ve gotten so thin.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” He apologies from the bed. After a moment of thought an idea pops into your head.

“Alright, put your shoes on, we’re going to my place.” You said as you made your way over to the door, grabbing your backpack and bag of wet clothes. 

“What?” He asks. 

“You heard me,” you said, grabbing his usual black dress shoes, “Dinner’s at my place tonight.” 

“But,” He said pausing for a moment, “I really don’t want to go out there with my ear…exposed like this.” You stared at him a moment while handing him his shoes.

“Look at me,” You stared, “I don’t want to go out like this either, but I was going to have to eventually. So, we’ll go out together, exposed.” 

He was quiet for a moment before he sighed.

“Alright, let’s go.” He said while putting his shoes on. The two of you walked out and thankfully there wasn’t anyone in the hallways at the moment. The two of you made your way up to your dorm, only running into a few people. Once there you set your things by the door and made your way to the kitchen. Van Gogh followed you and offered to help you, which you gladly accepted. 

You looked around to see what you could whip up quickly and decided to make a simple beef stew. You gave him a few vegetables asking him to peel them before you got to work cutting them, along with the beef, up and cooking them. You added the beef broth to everything and had to wait around 15 minutes. 

In that time, the two of you had decided to lay on your bed, holding each other ‘til the alarm went off. Both of you had gotten up and walked into the kitchen. You had Van Gogh sit while you cut up some bread and served both of you. 

The two of you ate in silence for a bit and it was nice. You were happy knowing that he was eating something, especially after having to empty his stomach like that. You also made sure he was drinking a lot of water.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Van Gogh said after a while, “I really appreciate this. And I’m sorry about what happened. About…you having to find me like that.” You felt your stomach clench at his words.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” You started. Van Gogh looked as if he was going to protest, but you continued before he could, “When people are in pain the way that you are, the way that I was, they do impulsive things; things that don’t accurately reflect them. So, don’t apologize to me, there’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” You finished and he looked down at his empty bowl. 

“Are you finished?” You asked as you stood up with your bowl.     “Yeah.” He said and you took his bowl to the sink. You briefly looked over to the clock that read 9pm. You looked back over at Van Gogh, watching him idly trace the bandages on his arm. At least he wasn’t scratching them.

“Do you need any night clothes?” You asked. He looked over at you confused before answering,

“No?” 

“You sure?” You asked, “Because you’re spending the night.” You added and you smiled at the blush that spread across his face.

“I-Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take up any space here.” He asked nervously.

“It would be my pleasure to have you stay here with me.” You said walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. You ran a hand through his bright orange hair before saying, 

“We can wrap your ear up now if you’d like. Your hair’s dry enough.” He smiled before looking you in the eye and saying,

“You know, I think I’ll leave it as it is.” You smiled before hugging and picking him up. 

“Thank God, because your hair is soooo soft.” You said as you rubbed your cheek against the top of his head. You placed him down, giggling at the bright peach color that dusted his pale cheeks. 

“Come on, I have some unused toothbrushes you can have.” You said leading him over to your bathroom. You dug around your bathroom cabinet before finding a still packaged toothbrush and handing it to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want a different set of clothes? I know mine will fit you.” You said before you exited the bathroom. 

“I’m sure, but thank you again.” You heard him shout through the door. 

You waited for him to finish. A few minutes later he walked out of the bathroom. You turned the lights out before getting into bed. You noticed how Van Gogh just stood by the bathroom door until you motioned for him to join you.

“Get over here, I’m not gonna have you sleep on the floor.” You said and he started to walk over to the bed. He slowly, almost hesitantly, got into the bed with you. He stayed close to the edge of the bed farthest from you. 

“Do you want to…” You started, opening your arms. He looked at you for a moment before quickly scooting over and into your arms. You wrapped him up in the blankets and gently rocked him when you heard him quietly cry. 

“It’s alright. It’s okay to cry,” You say as you run a hair through fluffy, orange hair, “I’ll make sure you get help, okay?” You felt him nod into your shoulder. 

It was quiet for a while, you had assumed he had fallen asleep, until he asked,

“Do they have to know?” Before you can ask who ‘they’ are he clarifies, “My foster parents. Do they have to know about all of this?” 

You knew what he wanted to hear, but you had to be honest with him. You sighed before answering him.

“Yeah, they have to know. Along with the school and your general physician,” You said and you felt his grip on you tighten.

“But don’t worry,” You said trying to comfort him, “It’s really not as bad as it sounds, and I’ll be there to help you through it.” 

“I just don’t understand,” He said, catching your attention, “Why would you try to…end your life? You’re so…perfect, I just…don’t understand how someone like you could feel this way.” You looked down at him in the dark.

“The one thing about mental illness is that it doesn’t discriminate,” You begin, “It doesn’t matter how great, or shitty, your life is; this is just something that can affect the best of us.” You explained. He remained quiet, so you decided to keep speaking. 

“Something I was told that helped me understand this is that a butterfly is unable to see how beautiful the colors of its wings are, but us as observers are able to see the colors of its wings. Using that logic, people are always able to see the good and beauty in others, but not in themselves,” You explained to him. You trailed a hand through his hair, traced his jaw and tilted his chin up to look at you, “But I’ll be here to tell you how beautiful and…and perfect you are.” 

You saw his face flush as tears gathered in his eyes. 

“God,” He whispered looking away, “Sometimes it's hard to believe that you love me.” 

You grabbed his face and quickly pressed a kiss to his lips. He was stiff before melting into your embrace. His lips were chapped, yet oddly soft and you taste the lingering tang of vomit. I was kinda gross, but you didn’t care as much as you thought you would.

It was gentle and chaste and you pulled away stroking his cheek saying,

“Then I’ll keep saying it ‘til you believe it.” And that’s what did it for him. He let out a choked cry before full-on sobbing into your chest. 

You let him and only when his crying seemed to calm down did you say anything.

“Are you feeling better now?” You asked, receiving a nod from Van Gogh, “Good. Now, get some rest. You need it.” 

“Okay.” He whispered before curling back into your embrace. You pressed him tighter to yourself, resting your chin on his head and continuing to run your hand through his hair. It was something he seemed to like since you noticed how he would lean into your hand. 

It was quiet and before you knew it you had drifted off, asleep with Van Gogh in your arms. In all the time you knew him, you never thought you’d ever have this.

~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning sometime around 8:30am. Classes start at 8:45am but you didn’t make a move to get up or to wake Van Gogh up. You simply stayed there with him, stroking his hair again. 

Seriously, that may have just become your new favorite activity. Running your hand through his soft, bright orange hair, feeling the weightless locks slip in between your fingers. 

You were the only one awake for a few minutes before Van Gogh slowly opened his pale cyan eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. He looked up at you and smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself at the dopy look on his face. His smile vanishes, however, as he quickly asks,

“Shoot, what time is it?” He sits up in the bad and makes a move to leave but you grab him by the shoulder, stopping his movements. 

“It doesn’t matter, we’ve got the day off.” You say while pulling him back into you.

“What are you talking about,” He begins, letting himself be pulled back into your embrace, “It’s a Thursday.” 

“Maybe so,” You start, sitting up in bed with him, “but we have some things to…workout.” You finish, rubbing the back of your neck. He shifted in your arms before say,

“Okay.” 

The two of you talked it out, he explained everything that was happening and why he did what he did. In turn, you gave him a run down about what the two of you would have to do now. You also explained how he might have to spend some time in a physical and then mental hospital due to the severity of everything that transpired. 

When you were done explaining everything, he was silent, most likely processing things. 

“I know that this is a lot to be introduced to so fast. Honestly, I wish I had known the first time what was going to happen with me.” You added with a slight chuckle to try and ease the atmosphere. I didn’t work seeing as Van Gogh seemed as tense as he was before, “Look at me.” You told him, and he did.

“Listen, I really wish I could say that this will be an easy thing for you to do, because it won’t be. I’ve been getting help for over a year and a half now and I still struggle sometimes, but I’m so much better than it was before,” You explained and, for once, he seemed interested, “I still don’t love myself, but I definitely don’t hate myself anymore, and that’s something I want you to be able to say about yourself. Because I love you, and I want you to be able to love yourself.” 

You watched as tears began to well in his eyes. He quickly lunged at you and pressed his lips against your and morning breath had never tasted better than in that moment. You were momentarily taken back at his boldness before kissing him back with just as much intensity. 

When he pulled away you could see the tear tracks on his face and feel the cooling of his tears on your own. 

“Thank you,” He said, “I love you. I love you so damn much Y/N.” He finished, cupping your face in his petite hands. You smiled, pressing your forehead to his and cupping his face. 

“I love you too, Vincent Van Gogh.” You said and you ignored the ache in your cheeks as your smile widened when his face broke out in the lovely peach color. You pressed another kiss to his lips, one he quickly reciprocated. You pulled away, getting out of bed and stretching.

“Come on,” You said looking back at him smiling, 

“I believe we owe your foster parents a visit.”