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daengtokki · 8 months ago

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𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

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Kim Seungmin/noona reader

wc: 5.9k

rating: angst/mature/18+ ಇ (idiots trying to get to lovers/mutual pining)

contains: drinking/drunkiness, implied mental illness, medication mention, weight mention

comments: Part two of this noona fic request. Not sure how much interest there is in this (there's more, because I love writing it and I needed some angst), but let me know if you guys like it!

songs to listen to while reading: orion sun - intro // chloe george - when does it get good

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Seungmin feels around in the dark, and he knows at any moment, he’s going to trip. The layout of your apartment is still foreign to him, but he likes it here, and he wants to get used to being here. It’s a welcome change from the dorm—there it's usually a mess. It smells, it tends to get loud at the worst moments, and the worst part of all is that you’re not there. Ever.

He’s a bit embarrassed of the place, even though his room is usually clean and ready for company. It’s better here, though. It’s always quiet, and warm, and it smells like vanilla and coffee, even now, in the middle of the night.

As much as he wanted to keep things between the two of you, for now, it did not work. Seungmin came home very late the night after he confessed (and you confessed), so it was easy for everyone to figure out. Still, though, he hasn’t talked much about it in the three days since. And now, somehow, he’s ended up at your apartment, and it’s well past midnight.

You fell asleep on the couch watching a movie, tucked against his side, and he shook you awake eventually.

“Time to get to bed, yeah?” He said, and he gave you a few more minutes to collect yourself before helping you up. Then he guided you into the bedroom, but he just stood there at the door for a moment, watching, waiting until you turned to him and smiled.

“Goodnight”

“You’re leaving?” You check the time on your phone. It's late.

“Yeah, I should go,” his heartbeat picks up a little as he casually looks around your room. This is his first time seeing it., and Seungmin thinks to himself how very you it is—the colors, the mix of adult and not-so-adult, pages from magazines and photobooks pinned to a corkboard next to very important looking things. He sees his face pinned there as well; a closeup of him, ripped neatly from the Noeasy photobook. No, two photos of him...three.

“Okay. You don’t have to, but…” you think, look around, look back at him, “text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will”

He clicks the hall light off as he makes his way toward the door, and with the glow of the tv gone, it’s suddenly very, very dark. The light of his phone helps, but he hits his foot on the coffee table, of course, and then he finally grabs his bag. Luckily it takes him a few extra minutes to fight into his shoes, because a text comes through just as he goes for the door.

don’t leave yet

Seungmin looks toward your bedroom door and waits. One, two, three seconds. It swings open, and you leave it there so the light pours out and illuminates him.

“Did I forget something?”

You stop in front of him and nod, “I did,” and grab the front of his shirt to pull him down. You kiss, and he kisses right back. And then you let go. “Can I ask what’s in your backpack?”

“Huh? My…oh my bag. Just my usual stuff, uhm, it’s silly. Sometimes I feel like I’ll be pulled away when I have no time to pack, so I always carry something with me.”

“So that's your overnight bag?”

“I guess. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea...if it’s the wrong idea. I wasn’t expecting something to happen, I promise.”

“Seungmin, it’s okay. I just came out to kiss you goodnight, not question your motives.” You pull him to you again and kiss. “And you’re welcome to spend the night—on the couch, or in my bed. Preferably in my bed. But wherever you’re comfortable.”

His laugh is so nervous, and he hates it, “maybe next time?”

“Of course. I’m leaving for a while tomorrow, but I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Will you be gone long?”

“No, a week at the most”

“A week. Okay, that’s not bad. If I’m home when you get back., we can do something.”

“Right, you might not be here”

You stare at each other silently, maybe hoping to read each other’s mind. You might not see him for a while and that was hard enough when you were just friends, pining endlessly. Now you’ve touched him and kissed him, and you need more time to do those things.

“I might be, though”

“Goodnight, Minnie”

This time he kisses you himself.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“I’m not surprised…but at the same time I’m a little surprised,” Felix scratches his head. He’s watching Seungmin cross the kitchen to fill his glass with water.

He doesn’t notice everyone staring at him until he turns toward the coffee maker. “What?”

“Surprised why?” Minho cups his chin in his hand and smiles at both of them.

“How was your date last night, kid?”

"Date?" Minho jumps and grins at Seungmin.

“We just watched a movie, it was good. She’s leaving today so I won’t see her for a while.”

“Oh no, that’s no good. So—“

“What are you surprised about?!” Minho slap his palm on the table, “Yongbok!”

“I’m getting there!”

“You’ve never been to her place before, right? What brought that on…a movie at her apartment?”

Seungmin is making his coffee, patiently, and looking at his roommate as he takes his time getting to the point. But Felix waits as he makes his way to the table with them to press on.

“You never really told us what happened the other night. You two just disappeared.”

“Oh, we went to her place, so we could be alone…”

The three of them OH in unison, because Jeongin turns the corner just in time. Minho is still confused, and nobody seems to want to elaborate for him. All four of them here at the same doesn’t happen often, so Seungmin is feeling a little crowded

“…to talk.”

“Ooh,” Jeongin smiles, “and? Did you talk last night, too?”

“Not much, no”

Their eyes grow as they wait for more, but now Seungmin is having too much fun stringing them a long.

“Please continue”

“There’s nothing else,” he shrugs, “we drank a little, watched a movie, we both dozed off for a while, I think…no,” Seungmin throws a hand up when Felix' mouth turns up into a smirk. “It was a long movie, nothing else happened.”

“Did you kiss?” Jeongin leans closer and whispers, “you kissed, yeah?”

Seungmin can’t help but smile when he asks. He can feel his face grow warm just thinking about it. Last night, and then your first kiss. That one got much heavier than he expected, and he loved every second—the touching, your tongue, your fingers running through his hair. He doesn’t want to wait a week for more, but he’s not going to chase after you now. He has to be patient, again.

“You should have spent the night"

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You sit across from each other in the cafeteria, just like you’ve done a dozen times before. It’s not busy, not even at lunchtime, but looking up at him for too long is making your heart race. It’s not that you’re afraid someone will walk by and read your mind (but if they did, they might be disgusted), it just feels different being with him in public now.

It feels like you’re both doing something a little bit wrong.

Seungmin is a young idol, and he’s sweet and kind and innocent, as far as everyone knows. You’ve already seen his unfiltered self, and it’s better than any act he’s had to put on. But he is still sweet and kind and…you assume a little innocent. You’ve never talked about your sex lives, ever.

You look up at him and lock eyes. He smiles, and you can’t help but start undressing him. Yes, you’ve touched him, finally. His thigh—he let you run your hand from his knee and up you went until you knew it was time to stop—his neck, his shoulder, his face…but there’s still so much of him to touch and see. The part of your mind that you can't keep quiet is afraid there won't be many more oppurtunities.

You have to close your eyes and relax.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just thinking. Over-thinking.”

He smiles again, and you start to wonder if he’s doing it because he’s nervous.

“About us?”

Us? That’s a much bigger word than it was a few days ago. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good things?”

Good things, yes. As long as you stay focused, there's nothing to think about when it comes to him except for good things. “Yeah, of course.”

“How is your lunch? Spicy enough?”

“Is my face red?”

“A little, yes”

“No spice today, so it’s you doing that.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

What if he stays too late tonight, again? He doesn’t want to run off at the first mention of spending the night, because he wants to stay here with you. There was no expectation of it when you asked last time, he assumes, because he can sleep wherever he wants; he can do whatever he wants. And you wouldn’t pressure him anyway. He knows you better than that.

He knows nothing about your sex life, though. And almost nothing about your dating life.

Seungmin doesn’t really know much about either of those things when it comes to himself, actually. There was never much time to date, or it was low on the list. And having sex without at least dating someone doesn’t sit well with him.

But he has been on dates, and he has kissed, and touched, and he’s been touched right back. But that’s all. No sex—that blowjob didn’t count—it was awkward, and it wasn’t very good. And as hard as he tries, he can't forget his first time trying to find a clit.

“Do you want a drink?” You shake his arm until he finally seems to hear you, “drink…beer, coke, coffee?”

“Soju?”

“I have strawberry and peach”

“Strawberry somaek?”

You disappear into the fridge and dig around, and Seungmin watches carefully when you bend forward. He’s always admired your body, though it never had much to do with him liking you the way he did. But now, he feels like it’s okay to appreciate it more. You’re shorter than him, and curvier (which doesn’t take much, seeing as how Seungmin is basically a straight line). Your ass and thighs are an eyeful for him, though.

Everything looks soft. Everything is soft, because he did sneak his hand there that first night. He squeezed his fingers right above your knee, then moved up ever so slightly to get some thigh. He didn’t dare go any further, though.

The touching you did the second time was much more innocent—holding hands, fingers laced together, your head against his shoulder as you fell asleep. He looked you over carefully, but kept his hands to himself, only daring to run a thumb over your wrist as you dozed off.

“Would you like to pour, or do you trust me?”

Seungmin snaps out of it. He’s pretty sure you caught him staring. “I trust you.”

“Can you grab the glasses for me?”

He does, and he follows you back to the living room and makes himself comfortable at the coffee table. And now that he’s started, he can’t take his eyes off of you as you move.

“That’s…oh okay we have different pours,” Seungmin eyes the glass, but you pull it toward yourself. “That’s much more soju than I usually do.”

You pour his now, but only fill the glass a third of the way before topping it off with the beer.

“I thought maybe you were trying to soften me up.” His breath catches in his chest when he says it, because it sounded much more stupid than it did in his head.

“No, trying to soften myself up, actually.”

“Why? You can’t get drunk without me,” the frown he gives you is over the top and very cute. “I don’t want you to fall asleep too early.”

“I’ll be careful”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin feels good after two glasses. It’s not much, but he hasn’t eaten recently, and he’s pretty certain his second drink was identical to yours.

You’re halfway through your third.

“These are too easy to drink.” You sit at the table with a dish of mandu and dakgangjeong. “And I’m guessing you’re hungry.”

“I usually am.” He leans forward and smells the chicken, “did you make all this.

You shake your head, “I’m not the best at cooking. I wish I had more time to practice.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for feeding me, and getting me tipsy.” He grabs a piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. And then a dumpling. And then finishes off his third somaek.

“You can’t be tipsy yet”

“I will be if I have another”

Seungmin does have another. And the for his next drink, he switches to straight beer—but he’s drunk. He picks up his chopsticks and grabs for a dumpling, but it slips off and bounces onto the table.

Both of you just stare at for a long moment. And then Seungmin giggles as he tries again. This time it makes it to his mouth.

“Where you going?”

He’s slowly getting to his feet, and he stands for a minutes to get his head straight.

“Bathroom”

“Good idea”

“Are you joining me?”

You stop halfway onto your feet and look up at him, his hand is outstretched like he’s welcoming the company, “ah…you first.”

It’s very obvious he had a bit too much. And you did, too, but you’re working hard to keep yourself together. When you walk back out from the bathroom, Seungmin is standing up, staring at the tv, and the rest of the chicken is making its way into his mouth. He looks comfortable and satisfied—drunk, yes…but happy.

It makes you warm up even more, and you can’t remember the last time you felt so good.

“Hey”

“Hi…hello, do you feel better? Do you want the last few pieces?” He holds some out to you, but it disappears into his mouth as soon as you shake your head. “We should sober up.”

Yes, you should. You sit on the couch and curl yourself up into a ball, but when he sits next to you, your limbs develop a mind of their own. Before you can stop yourself, you slide your arms around his waist and hold yourself tight against him. Your leg drapes over his lap, and you’re practically straddling his thighs. He takes it in stride, though. Seungmin holds you right back and takes the opportunity to slide a hand across your hip, and when he squeezes, you jump.

“Sorry”

“Mm mm, no…it’s good. Feels good.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you’re so warm”

“I think that’s the alcohol”

“Maybe…maybe, but you always—“ you stop and start to giggle, and you shove your face into his shirt to try to stifle yourself.

“Always what?”

You shake your head against him, push harder against his chest, take in his scent…feel yourself becoming even more drunk. “Nothing.”

His hand slides back up and settles on your hip, “always something good, hopefully.”

“Sorry, my head is swimming.”

“Mine too”

“I was hoping the alcohol would help, but you’re making me so nervous.”

“You’re nervous? I’m making you nervous?”

“Yeah, maybe telling you will make it go away."

“I’m also nervous. I wasn’t the last time I was here…so maybe the drinks are working against us.”

You force yourself to look up at him, and he looks down at you with big, heavy eyes. Your gaze drops and takes in every bit of him—his cheeks, his nose, his lips…his lips. He wets them and a smile pulls at his mouth, and you desperately want him to lean down closer to you. Every part of you is screaming for him, but you’re still frozen.

He’s frozen, too. The booze just made both of you stupid.

“Seungmin?” You’ve never, not even as a teenager, felt so stupidly in love with someone.

“Yeah?”

The longer you watch him, the closer he seems to get, and you see every little detail, every little spot, every little perfect blemish and pore on his skin.

“Kiss me before I explode”

His lips press into yours and his fingers squeeze so hard again. You want him to hold you tighter still, and you need to be closer. He does. Seungmin moves you until you’re on his lap, and he devours you. He’s all tongue, and it’s wet and messy, not like his previous kisses, but it’s so good tasting him, and tasting the entire night on him.

Then he stops suddenly to catch his breath, but he stays there and bites down lightly on your bottom lip. Your eyes open, and he’s right there, staring. He pulls back, looks at the space between your thighs, and there’s not much there. If you let yourself relax a little more, you’d feel his dick growing in his sweatpants.

But you can see it. You’re no longer frozen, so you shake the thought of what’s between his legs out of your head, for now. Both of you are way too fucked up for the first time. What you do need to do is kiss him again, so you take over, squeeze his shoulders and hold him steady while you lick across his parted lips. Seungmin opens up for you and he moans into the kiss—moans right down your throat.

You shake your head, “we should stop until we’re, um…I don’t wanna do this drunk.”

“I don’t either,” he keeps kissing, but slows down and softens his touch. His hands move to your waist, and then your back, where they stay.

“But don’t leave tonight”

“I won’t”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin watches you from his side of your bed. He did fall asleep for a while, but he woke from a dream and forgot for a few moments where he was. His racing heart beat against the mattress as he looked toward you, facing away from him, shirt pulled halfway up your back. You kicked the covers off in your sleep—probably too warm from sobering up, but so deeply asleep. Still, he reaches out and runs two fingers down the skin that’s peeking out.

You move ever so slightly, and mumble something. He looks at the time: just after 4am. You’ve been asleep for about three hours, because both of you were out as soon as you hit the bed.

But Seungmin feels better. Less drunk, at least. His head aches a little, but not enough to bother him. He reaches out again, but this time he pulls at your shirt until you’re covered.

“Minnie”

“I’m up, you feel okay?”

You mumble again, and groan, but you don’t answer.

“Minnie…hmmm, don’t leave”

“Hey,” he crawls closer and runs a hand down your arm, “hey, oh you’re still asleep.”

You wake up when you feel his lips on your shoulder. “Min?”

“Are you up or talking in your sleep?”

“I’m up…oh no, what did I say?” You turn onto your back and grab his hand. “I don’t do that all the time.”

“Just my name”

“Oh”

“And you told me not to leave,” he squeezes your hand and searches for the soberness in your eyes, “I’m still here.”

“Sorry, I don’t usually speak so clearly”

The sleep-talking doesn’t phase him. In fact, the quietness of the room is a welcome change to his typical nights. The whole night, drunk as you both were, was quiet and calm. “Were you thinking about me in your sleep?”

“I must have been,” you move his hair away from his eyes, and now you’re searching for any leftover drunkenness. He seems wide awake and sober.

“It’s 4 in the morning, if you’re still tired…we can go back to sleep.” That’s not what he wants, but he also wants what you want. Seungmin figured you’d get into bed and both of you would sleep soundly until morning. But he woke up.

“No, I feel good. And you look good.”

The truth is, you are very tired. If you close your eyes right now, you have no doubt that you would fall back to sleep almost immediately. Instead you rip off the rest of the blanket and sit up.

“Where are you going?”

He watches you stand slowly, carefully, just in case. But your legs work just fine. Maybe Seungmin can change that. The thought sends a little wave a pleasure through you, and you smile when you turn to look at him, “bathroom.”

That is what you do, but you dig through the drawer under the sink as well. You didnt prepare properly, because you didn’t double check to see if you still had condoms, and if they were still good.

“Oh good,” you grab the half used pack and look closely at the date stamped on the bottom, "lucky.” But you make the mistake of looking at yourself in the mirror, and your reflection feels like it's a mile away. Your eyes blur, and the room spins for a moment.

A perfectly timed knock on the door makes you jump, and the box slips from your hand.

“Are you okay? I gotta go, too.”

“Yeah, Minnie, I’m coming,” you pick them up and palm them as you head for the door, “sorry, go ahead.”

Seungmin whistles as he returns and quietly shuts the door, “so are you…out?” He holds up the empty box and shakes it. “You left the drawer open.”

“Oh, no no,” you grab the condoms from your bedside table and show them to him, “we have two.”

He pulls one from your fingers and examines it for a moment, “I don’t think these will fit.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

It’s stupid, and it’s reckless, and you know it. But it’s not going to stop you. From the moment he said the condoms—the only condoms either of you had, wouldn’t work, you tossed it back onto the table, looked up at him, “okay,” and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants until he was right in your face.

“Okay” He sets his down, too. “Are you…” he groans when you find a good spot on his stomach, and he laughs when you graze your lips across his skin.

Every time you get back to his belly button, you tug a little more. His sweatpants start to tent, and you’re starting to feel exactly how much he wouldn’t fit into those condoms. One more tug, and you can see him—the stiff base of his cock, held still by the grip of your fingers.

He’s so hot against the fabric, and a wet spot of pre-cum starts to come through as you stroke him.

“I’m not surprised you like to tease,” he smiles down at you, but he’s blushing…everywhere. His cheeks, his ears, his neck. When he pulls his shirt over his head, he’s flushed all the way down to where your lips are.

Seungmin is just as lean under all those clothes as you imagined, and his shoulders…

“Turn around”

“Huh…turn?”

You stand and grab his hips, “yeah, turn around for me.”

He listens and peeks back at you the best he can—until your hands move from his hips, slowly upward, touching every bit of skin you can—across his shoulder blades, back down his spine.

The sigh he lets out is so content and relaxed, it actually puts you more at ease. He laughs sweetly when your lips touch him. “I like your teasing.”

Seungmin turns back to face you, and your fingers slide across him as he moves.

“Just admiring you." Yes, you are admiring him. Touching him, finally, is doing more for you than anything else possibly could. But every step forward now is taking all of your energy.

“Admiring? Me?” He cups your cheek and lifts until you’re looking at him, then pulls you close.

It’s sweet and it’s perfect, and you melt into him, but now you’re so distracted by his dick pressing against you. You push your hips in until he groans, slide your hands under his waistband.

Seungmin grabs back, and squeezes your ass. “Let me see you.” He pulls your shirt up and over your head before you can react, but you fold your arms over yourself before pressing back into him.

“Ah…I’m sorry, too fast?” His hands keep you against him. He holds so tight, you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. “I should have let you do that.”

“No, I just—“

“I didn’t think you’d be shy”

A shiver runs through you when his hands move down your back, then back up.

“How about we…” he scoots closer to the lamp, keeping hold of you, and clicks it off. “Is that better?”

“Maybe,” you laugh, but it’s hesitant, a little edgy. “You’re too perfect, Minnie and…ah, I don’t know what's going on, I’m nothing special.”

“No, you're very special. What’s the matter?”

You relax a a little in his arms.

“I’m not perfect, not even close. You haven’t seen me after rolling out of bed at noon, or grumpy when my mouth hurts after getting these things tightened.”

You whine his name. You’re ruining the moment. Him comforting your sudden stupid thoughts and doubts—he’s probably already getting soft. “I’m sorry, I’m making a mess of everything. I'm not sure what happened.”

“Mm, no…you haven’t made a mess of anything.” Seungmin grabs your shirt from the edge of the bed and slips it back on you, “it's okay, we can get back under the covers if you’d like.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“Give me your hand”

Seungmin holds it up to you, then sets it in yours.

Back under the covers is where you end up, and you really do feel like a tease now. Poor Seungmin—his dick doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but right now, you know he’s definitely not hard. You've ruined that.

“You think I’m perfect…can I think you’re perfect?” he lets go of your hand and runs his up your arm.

“No, I’m a mess. My skin, my hair is a mess. I’m getting chubby because I never watch what I eat. I don’t know why you’re here.”

“Because I want to be here. Because you brought me here and made me feel like I was yours."

“I was so high off of your words before. I thought I was dreaming when we were talking after dance practice.”

Seungmin moves closer, and now you’re sharing a pillow, and you breathe in every sigh he breathes out. His hand is moving so slowly over you, and he’s being so patient as it finds the curve of your hip and slides under the bottom of your shirt. “You’re not a mess.” He’s touching you and kneading his fingers into your side. Into your back. He works his way up and drags his fingertips up to your throat. “And they weren’t just words.”

How could you possibly deny him, looking at you like this? You shouldn’t, but your brain is telling you it will never work; it’s a waste of time. He’s going to really see you, and change his mind—he’ll find out how bad you are at this, and how emotional and unbearable you get when you do. It’s too much for him.

Still, his touch is as soft as his eyes, and he moves even closer until his leg can slide over yours.

“No, I don’t deserve you”

He isn’t sure how to reply to that, so he just stares. Maybe he’s waiting for you to crack a smile, or laugh it off, but you don’t. “Why would you say that?”

“You can do so much better than me, I promise.” You get as far as sitting yourself up, and your head pounds against your eyes. The alcohol is catching up to you and turning into a hangover already. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far, I’ve been stupid.”

“What are you saying?” Seungmin grabs your arm as you shift to get out of bed. His head is pounding now, too, because he's trying to figure out what went wrong and where he fucked up. “I can go if that’s really what you want, but give me a minute.”

You struggle with a response. You don’t want him to leave, but he should. And if he does, it might be the end of something that didn’t even begin. “A minute…for what?”

“To say something”

“Right, I’m sorry”

“I meant everything I said before, even if I didn’t say much. But you knew what I was thinking.” He lets go of your arm, because you seem to have relaxed. You’ve settled back in your spot, under the covers, back against the pillows. “I want you, and you want me…I think. And I need you around, I know that much. If I leave, will we go back to how we were before?”

There’s a long silence. You’re not sure if he wants an answer to that, but you don’t want to think too hard about it. Maybe, eventually, the memory of this can pass and you can be friends again.

“I don't want to go back to that. Not after this,” he answers himself. “So…”

Seungmin throws the covers off of himself, puts his feet on the cold floor, and then waits a few seconds before standing. It takes a moment to find his shirt, but he does and throws it on, and the entire time you watch him so intensely. But you stay quiet.

He knows you’re watching, and he takes his time, hoping you’ll stop him as he goes for the door. But you don’t.

And he anxiously waits for his phone to buzz after he grabs it from the coffee table. The empty bottles and glasses—the mess from the food scattered everywhere—Seungmin stares at it, waiting for a text that won’t come, and he decides he won’t leave yet. Instead he starts to clean.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You’re stuck in your spot on the bed, phone now in hand, and you stare at the messages you’ve shared over the last week—to prove yourself wrong, maybe. Or just to make yourself feel worse. You couldn’t possibly feel any worse right now, though. Seungmin is still here; his scent lingers, and the feeling of his touch. But he left. You kicked him out, and deep down, you know you don’t want to subject him to whatever the future might hold. This isn’t possible, and thinking it could be was both of you just being struck dumb with lust. And maybe love.

You’ll be back tomorrow morning, right? I get my days mixed up sometimes, especially when I’m home for a while. Do you get like that? Maybe my memory is going already, haha I’ll be around if you’re free, so I hope you are. I can’t wait to see you again.

Seungmin is a good texter. He’s thoughtful and sincere, and he seems to choose his words carefully, as if he’s speaking to you face to face. That, or he just closes his eyes and types everything he feels. That wouldn’t surprise you.

I hope texting you so soon isn’t weird. No, it’s you! It’s not weird, or if it is that makes it normal for us. I hope you feel as good as I do. Good night ♥️

You pull the covers up to your chin and try to get comfortable. But you can’t take your eyes off the string of messages.

I practiced your song today! It might take a little more work to get it to sound good with my vocals. Maybe I need your input. But I’d rather surprise you!

He’s probably been working on it all week, and here you almost forgot about it. Before he sent this text, you didn’t know if he was serious, or it was just his opening line.

The sound of glasses clinking together echoes into the bedroom, and your heart pounds wildly. Then the pounding in your head starts up again, and for some reason you choose now to start crying. The tears start to brim, and you try desperately to keep them from going any further.

The sound of water running gets you out of bed fast, and you walk slowly to the bedroom door. You can see the kitchen light on through the crack, and the shadow of movement is there, too. His backpack is untouched at the end of the couch, and when you walk out to the hallway, you see his shoes next to yours. He’s washing the dishes and cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

“Seungmin”

He jumps and almost drops the glass.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh,” he sighs, “I didn’t want you to have to clean all this up in the morning. I’m sorry, I’m done.” He grabs his backpack and heads for the door. “Get some sleep before the sun comes up.”

One shoe is on, the other is halfway there as he stares at you. “Are you crying?”

You wipe at your cheek and feel what you couldn’t hold back.

Seungmin kicks his shoes off again and hesitates for a moment, but eventually, when you don’t speak, he closes the space between you. “You’re crying,” he takes your cheeks in his hands. “Please…if you won’t talk to me now, please call me tomorrow. Or text, I don’t care. Tell me you still feel the same as you do right now, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Stop it,” you squeeze your eyes shut and feel more tears escape. Seungmin’s warm embrace, his arms holding tight around your shoulders, it makes everything else fall away.

“Stop what?”

“Being so good, and patient, and calm. You should’ve run off by now”

“Why are you so hard on yourself? You think you should be punished for…yes, I remember you saying that…for what? I know you want this.”

All you can manage is a mumble against his chest.

He relaxes his arms and grips your waist, “what did you say?”

“I do”

“Want this? Or think you should be punished?”

More silence from you, but he waits.

“I’ll leave. And I hope I hear from you tomorrow.”

He lets go, and manages to get into his shoes before you say his name. As fed up as he should be hearing his name again, he’s not. Seungmin looks at you with hopeful, tired eyes.

“Yeah?” He watches you closely, tilts his head to the side. You can see his eyes moving up and down over your body, "tell me I can stay.”

Your legs shake and your head swims. The ache behind your eyes is growing worse and worse, but looking at him makes it bearable, somehow. Even now, he’s ready to run to you as soon as you say go. But you can’t figure out why.

Seungmin is still who he is, and you’re who you are, and you don’t really belong together. Someone will find out and put a stop to it. But what if things slowly start to connect; fall into place; work out for a while? Forever? No, that doesn't sound right. Loving him before was easy, because you assumed it would always be one-sided and simple; no worries about making something work, or about working toward something. Now this is real, and it's a little bit scary looking at him and realizing how much you want him, and how big this could get.

"Say something," he sighs, and it sounds nowhere near as irritated as it should.

Your gaze drops to your feet, defeated—it moves toward his, and again, he’s taking off his shoes. Seungmin stands there and faces you.

“Okay...okay."

─ ⋅♡⋅ ─

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morus-god-of-doom · 7 months ago

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Swap Underverse Asylum Sans

Alright, I know I'm not on here often, but hear me out.

In the swapped universe where Dream ate the apple, Ink now has Error's job, and Nightmare is trying to stop all of this with the help of a maker Error Sans, I haven't seen much in ways of the other bad guy sans getting swapped counterparts. It seems that having them stay the same, except when Swap replaces Dust or Killer.

But Swap doesn't fit well with either of them, so I think he's more like Cross in the swapped AU, but I digress, he's not who I wanna talk about.

Who I want to talk about is Asylum Sans, or Bandy for short. The little schizophrenic that is obsessed with colorful bandaids, stickers, and sometimes plushies. From what I know of him, his past is mostly a mystery but something happened to his Papyrus, causing him to take on a ghost-like form and hang about the little skellie.

He'd be a perfect parallel to Dust sans, yet being a schizophrenic wouldn't be enough to make him a bad guy.

But what if something happened that made Bandy go off the deep end? Like a certain therapist that recommends putting him on pills to solve the problem of Bandy's schizophrenic episodes. Now, this would absolutely be fine if the pills were correct for his mental illness, but that is not what happens to the little guy.

Instead, they put him on something else; magic suppressors.

From what I have seen, Bandy doesn't use magic in the ward because Mrs. Toriel and Dr. Alphys told him it would be dangerous. He understands that it wouldn't be the best of ideas for him to teleport out of the ward where he can't get the help he needs. So when they suddenly give him little, pink pills, he takes them without question since they had promised him more bandaids if he did.

But they have a negative reaction to the poor skeleton like most things would happen if you take away a person's ability to do something.

Bandy faints due to the effects and hits his head on the floor, causing another change. Of course, Dr. Alphys gives him a check-up and heals the wound, but when the schizophrenic wakes up, his ailment is worse. The new therapist waves it off, of course, giving him a white pill, Bandy's normal prescription, but when the skeleton sees him, he screams due to what he sees in the human, their true intentions.

This would be an everlasting effect as a result of the suppressors they give him with his normal treatment. Anytime Bandy sees someone enter his room for food or check-ups, he stares at them, scooting backward, so they double his prescription.

But what does Asylum see?

Well, he'd see the quote-unquote 'demons' hanging about people, or for a better way to put it, their intentions. Now, with good people like Mrs. Toriel and Dr. Alphys, the demons are small, barely considered a threat in his eyes. Yet when he sees the other doctors and patients, he sees all sorts of monsters, some fusing with their hosts, like when he shrieked upon seeing the new therapist. He saw all of the malice the man had turned them into a creature from nightmares.

Now, as we know with most bodies, they will build up a tolerance if exposed to negative factors. So over time, Bandy's body slowly adapts to resisting the suppressors, causing them to increase the dosage until it eventually stops working on him.

But Bandy still acts docile on his prescription, right?

Wouldn't you know it, one of the employees forgets to order the medicine that Bandy so desperately needs. It would take 2 days for the emergency order to come in.

No big deal, right? Bandy is always friendly to people, even before the new 'prescription', surely nothing bad will happen, right?

Well, Milo Murphy's law states that anything that can happen will happen.

On the second day, Bandy sees the bad Therapist and finally snaps. The suppressors on his magic had ceased working since his body had too much of it. It needed to be expelled.

And what better than the man who had started the torment?

It was all a blur to the skeleton, but it was bloody and brutal. The schizophrenic came to when he had cornered Dr. Alphys and Mrs. Toriel. A bloody pair of scissors in one hand, and a sharp bone in the other. He stared at the weapons before giggling, a manic grin on his face. Asylum knew a lot now, and the two women in front of him had let the therapist do whatever.

So, he finished the job before skipping off to the medicine cabinet.

He needed answers.

It would be quite a sight for the next victim, the person who delivered the medication. Seeing bloodied halls, corpses and dust everywhere.

And just like that, the deliverer would fall by Asylum's hands, and he gets the prescription he needed. So a win-win for him.

I feel like Swapped Dream and Ink would stumble upon the AU by chance and find Asylum playing with the corpse happily.

It's just a thought I had though, just a simple idea since I was bored. Just wanted it to be recorded a bit.

#Asylum Sans #this is fine #rant post #kinda rambling #don't mind me #dust sans #swap sans #killer sans #dream sans #error sans #ink sans #Swapped Underverse Idea

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cocolacola · 2 years ago

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hellsing pokemon au !!

as promised, im going back to my usual hellsing shenanigans with some pokemon stuff. ive had this in my brain for months but have never gotten around to doing anything with it! my autistic ass has absorbed information about pokemon before i could have normal thought patterns, so hopefully my takes are at least a little satisfying. feel free to interact with ur own thoughts and suggestions!

i provided long explanations of each, but if you dont want to read all that just look at the pictures :P

long post ahead!

note: these aren't definitive teams, just me throwing around ideas. don't take this as the holy grail of headcanons or anything.

seras victoria

boltund would be her first pokemon i think, her main partner from before her work with the organization. togetic is here because idk im a togetic 4lifer and im a kinnie ? it just really made sense to me, just vibes, plus i think she really needed a flying type. may become a togekiss later, that would be cute. umbreon is pip's eevee that she evolved, and blastoise is a gift from walter. i think she needs more red pokemon to match her color palette and vampire vibes so ill probably add to this!

alucard

alucard needs a legendary of course, so darkrai. i think they would be good friends, they give the same "misunderstood tortured soul" vibes. houndoom to represent baskerville, noivern to fit the vampire/bat aesthetic.

and an important distinction:

i think girlycard should have a hisuian sneasel. they're the same critter. two ancient beings.

sir integra

im surprised with how much i struggled with this one. i feel like a fake fan. smh, anyways. sirfetch'd is perfect to me-even the unevolved farfetch'd is super fitting too-but i included the final form for this post. i wanted to stick with galar pokemon, but aegislash is literally a sword. cmon. stoutland is a recommendation from a friend that i 100% agree with. ive always associated her with the serperior line, so snivy was probably her starter. i think that'd be cute. im really open to suggestions on this one because i think she deserves more steel or normal types.

pip bernadotte

this is a big one! there were so many good options with pip... and i didnt even mean to color code it 😅 i wanted him to have an electric type to match seras (to add to the whole rivals-to-lovers aesthetic), so his main partner is raichu! it was between that or mudsdale, who i also really like (and is the only one on this team who cant be found in kalos, haha). i wanted him to have a bird (for the geese) so there's dodrio. scrafty and tauros just fit the vibe perfectly to me-they're sorta like honorable mentions. eevee is originally his but he eventually gives it to seras, who evolves it into umbreon. if pip would have kept it, i think it would have evolved into sylveon (the whole kalos thing).

walter c dornez

some interesting picks for walter. corvisquire is his main guy, his "angel of death", he's raised it from a rookidee since he was a kid. maybe it would evolve into corviknight when he becomes Dark Walter. not sure how that would work. i choose not to think about dark walter. bisharp is there for the steel typing vibes as well as the chess symbolism: it really hits right for me, with walter's arc being about how he's played as a "pawn", in a sort of way. also a nod to a very dear friend of mine who loves walter and the pawniard line respectively. :) now, why leavanny, you ask? it learns string shot, of course! also because id like to think he would raise a sewaddle in his old age to help him with things around the estate.

..aaand im out of room for images in the post! i'll make a part 2 with some bonus thoughts + the iscariot organization if i feel like it. bye for now!

#thank u to @pebblezone for inspiring me to actually post this #anyways i #can u guys tell that i like pip #shakes violently #tried to include some unconventional picks but...#this shows incredible bias to pokemon that i really really like #*looking at tauros and togetic* you wouldnt be here if it weren't for me #hellsing #hellsing ultimate #pokemon au #seras victoria #alucard hellsing #integra hellsing #pip bernadotte #walter c dornez

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tobiasdrake · 9 months ago

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Fucking rude. Who pissed in that guy's miso? Oh well. Let's keep looking around Bamboo Creek.

Okay, this is clearly something. Looks more like an exit than an entrance, though. Based on the differently colored stone.

Bro, I'm gonna touch this cabinet every single time I come in here. Just because you keep telling me not to. I think we should both just settle into a comfortable status quo of me touching your cabinet.

To be fair, that's a strong goal to reach for. Devolver publishes a ton of great content for consumers to enjoy. You can also find a treasure trove of fantastic material published by Annapurna Interactive, while we're at it.

There aren't many publishers out there who can be relied on with great material like the Sacred Fable of the Moon Goddess Luana but if you look hard enough, you can find some true gems.

...sorry, shilling products for advertising revenue is part of my religion. You go on, I'll just kick back and listen while enjoying this warm, heavenly loaf of Garl-ic Bread, in stores wherever Warrior Cook Wares are sold.

It's actually addiction-forming, as a matter of fact. The deferment of happiness to a hypothetical future point in time is also the main problem with marketing hype. People can become so addicted to the cycle of looking forward to things that the actual product quality ceases to matter.

This is more or less what's become of the gaming industry these days, as preorder culture and live services and DLC roadmaps all keep people hooked, buying the promise of what the product might be someday instead of an actual product that they would enjoy having right now.

It comes out. It's disappointing. But it doesn't matter, because people are addicted to the promise and eager to jump on the next thing that might possibly materialize into something good some day.

Not to speak ill of Kickstarter since... y'know, biting the hand that feeds and all that... but crowdfunding also feeds into this same phenomenon. It's just that it's easier to put faith in small projects with individual names behind them than in large companies focused on maximizing profits above all else.

We see this in Big Tech spaces as well. Ideas like cryptocurrencies and AI-driven media get shopped around, not because there is anything of value worth investing in today, but because they insist that their product is going to be revolutionary eventually. "This IS the future, this IS where society is going, so you'd better buy in now."

Future happiness is highly addictive.

No, it was insightful. This was a good talk. I enjoyed discussing these advanced concepts with you.

If this is what it gets me, then I'll be sure to keep molesting your cabinet in the future. Anyways, what were we doing? Right, Bamboo Creek, we were....

WHY PLANTS. WHY ARE THERE PLANTS. EVIL HUNGRY PLANTS.

I should have known the forest would not be kind to botanophobes. I thought Luana killed the Botanical Horror! Are there more!? This isn't even the right island for it!

Unless we're in a different timeline. Shit, that's a possibility. Hell, all these Time Shards around imply we're in an active time loop but I'm trying not to think about that because it hurts my ninja brain.

You know, the bamboo construction here is extensive. I wonder who built all this? Did we build it, and the Koopa Kingdom took over after driving us from our lands? Or did they build it, as a fortress to stage their invasions from?

Shopkeep only said this was the closest thing to a relaxing place left on the island so maybe, once upon a time, this was a nice getaway spa or something. The trolleys that move by slapping them are weirdly fun and satisfying for reasons I'm not quite sure I can put my finger on.

Those spikes might be, like, relaxation spikes. You don't know.

No, but, for real. Jumping around from bamboo branch to bamboo branch is, like, a fun day in the park for a trained ninja. If it weren't for all the demon heads blowing in on the wind, I'd be having the time of my life. I think this was a vacation resort.

Plus, y'know, it's been a while since we fought the necromancer. And there was that weird statue in Luana's fable and all that. So. I. Kinda. Was hoping.....

Actually, come to think of it, that statue might have been Quarble. Huh.

...do I get to fight Quarble? 'Cause he's my bestie, don't get me wrong, but I'd love a sparring match with him!

There are a lot of things I wouldn't fight on my day off. Like that inexplicably fast guy with the halberd who stabbed me in the junk. That was not very relaxing at all.

...

But yes, I would like to fight a boss on my day off. Boss plz.

Well, if I don't get to fight a boss then at least I still have my unchecked lust for shiny fragments of concentrated physics violations.

If there's not a boss here then there better be something really good up ahead to--

MOTHERFUCKING HIGH DIVE WHOOOOOOOO!!!!

You win this round, ambiguous Shopkeeper.

Oh hey, a tunnel. Wonder what's down there. If this is the pool then maybe there's a hot tub--

Howling like "the wind howls" or howling like a wolf? Because those will create two very different sets of expectations for what, exactly, is coming to kick my ass.

That guy on the mural is definitely pooping. Weird thing to immortalize, ancient temple builders or whatever this place is.

Very well. At least we've clarified. I will adjust my expectations straight to the bottom of a ravine. Not unlike the one I descended to get here.

#the messenger #drake plays the messenger

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gigglegirlhappy · 2 years ago

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(May 5th, 2022)

I’m still proud of this piece almost a year after creating it. Though my art style has since evolved and changed (ill be posting new art eventually guys i promise), I still enjoy how this piece in particular turned out. This is my last piece I drew with black outlines and more detailed cel shading, artwork after this date uses colored outlines and a more simplistic shading style (I realized after doing something this ambitious with the current, more detailed shading style I had, that I would have to change to something simpler if I wanted to have a life outside of creating art)

Jordan Joestar, her Stand, Weather Hackers, and her Sub-Stand, Kiseki Knot, all belong to me. As if the Joestar Family Tree couldn’t get any more complicated, here I go adding another member to its ranks. Jordan Joestar is the daughter of Dio Brando (because why the hell not, lets add another kid to his list of bastard children) and Leslie Jones (cringe ass self insert oc). This would, I guess, make her Giorno’s half-sister, hence why she ends up sharing Golden Wind with him. I’m planning on writing the full story, but considering my inconsistency with writing and uploads, I wouldn’t get too excited as of right now, especially considering the fact that I would like to have it mostly finished by the time I actually start releasing chapters.

Weather Hackers has the ability to make a person inexplicably forget how to do something, provided the concept is specific enough (ie. It can make a person forget how to perform a roundhouse kick or how to preheat orange chicken, but it can’t make somebody forget how to fight or eat entirely)

Kiseki Knot is Weather Hacker’s Sub-Stand. It can siphon abilities from other Stands, provided it doesn’t get caught while doing so (which is incredibly difficult, considering it takes roughly a minute to completely siphon an ability, their combined height is roughly 5’7”, and Kiseki Knot itself is very unwieldy to carry on Weather Hackers’ back)

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba giorno #giorno fanart #jojo giorno #giorno giovanna #oc #ocs #jjba vento auero #jojo's bizarre adventure vento auero #vento aureo #Jordan Joestar #Weather Hackers #Kiseki Knot #gold experience #Leslart #jjba golden wind #golden wind #golden

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writer59january13 · 1 year ago

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Espousing irreverent greed

Crafted one year ago today yours truly – hopefully self plagiarism okay

worse case scenario,

I would meet ill fate re: kenway named after Assassin Creed

Black Flag's protagonist.

"Yo, I totally Kenwayed that guy."

by Bilbusbagginzies

Passive stance, but aye agreed

and did promise to pledge troth faster than greased lightning airspeed

once the missus temporarily ceased menarche regarding monthly bleed became in family way with child

thee eldest, whom one day may breed, when permanently settled

or opting out begetting offspring,

alluded daughter much more mature,

cuz parent trap truly ensnared me,

and I nearly capsized

manning figurative prairie schooner,

I captained poorly

barely surviving emotionally

analogously shipwrecked existence

I must forthrightly concede done dirt cheap dirty deed.

Unlike das papa, first born proactive

taking preventative measures

to avoid begetting offspring

with college manual, she carefully plots

being masterfully persevering enroute to notch curriculum vitae with two additional years of schooling University of Pennsylvania degreed

well self groomed for succeeding

at aforementioned Ivy League

years before taking

advanced placement courses

at Harriton High School yielding to positive advisory feedback,

she wisely did heed shipshape smarts anchors ahoy mate

passed academic challenges

with flying colors well seasoned life, yes indeed.

Wherefore sexually reckless behaviour, though I eventually wed

future mother housing zygote,

nevertheless did bungle responsibilities

to exponential powers of ten -

experienced challenges to exceed

capacity of yours truly to handle

whacking thru jungle of lady love

until...making head way verboten fruit fricasseed

essentially purring kitty I petted and proceeded to feed

pitched, hitched, ditched

libido in throes of monkish celibacy, procreating analogous to filigreed

custom made jewel of denial,

bubbling self cleaning oven,

plus compelled tug get willy freed

after being soused asthma gumweed

glommed, where male member tiptoed thru tulips playing ukulele

playing biological equivalent risque business "Russian roulette"

pregnancy eventually guaranteed.

Unlike me wily willy cocked, limp bizkit primed to hawk kitty

then future spouse did not intercede once peppy begged, connived, to forego birth control and test virility

attested, claimed, ejaculated, et cetera

arousal without prophylactics keyed

sowing wild oats courtesy yours truly didst adeptly beg, burrow, knead

testosterone totally tubular lil trouser snake did proceed letting call of wild take lead

tube steak king claim for fatherland heady after slurping boot legged mead

stifled unnatural prime mate years pent up sexual urge, thus did supercede.

Thence sore relief yours truly did need

for swearing against wearing raincoat

at seminal moment blithely releasing seed subsequent expense imposed

on fecund counterpart

with snoop doggy dogg speed

generating prickly heat inducing boner fied stampede

appetite for reproduction

struggling with common sense (particularly lacking gainful employment)

raising and supporting young ones

incurred courtesy one or more progeny needs and wants of offspring,

who sprouted like loco crazy weed,

as greater demands imposed on their mama and papa.

0 notes

byunmyeon · 4 years ago

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Philophobia

↳ pairing: lee suho x reader

↳ synopsis: in a world where a red string connects soulmates, everyone knows who they belong with. except you, who hasn’t been able to see your string since you were a kid.

↳ warnings: language (like one word), a copious amount of angst and heartbreak

— note: there’s a serious lack of suho fics out there so I decided to write my own. lmk if you guys want me to write a second part!

There was something inexplicably eerie about being the new girl in a school that was twice the size of your old one. Not because it was an unfamiliar setting, nor was it because you were painfully shy and terrible at making friends. It wasn’t even your disparaging insecurities that had you feeling so shook. No, it was something you couldn’t put your finger on, something you couldn’t begin to name. A discomfort you could feel all the way down to your bones.

Your inordinate unease swelled into full blown panic with every step you took toward your new classroom. Somewhere in your unorganized mind, you could hear your mom’s reassuring voice. Everything will be okay. You didn’t know if her words held any truth, but you really, really, really hoped she was right. You were being stupid, honestly. There was nothing to fear, but you couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling from your stature. Despite all the undesirable emotions you felt, your breathing was normal and your heartbeat was steady.

It took you a minute to gather yourself. You could do this.

After a very ineffectual pep talk, you finally got your feet to move. Your eyes were cast down as you entered the classroom. The rowdy classroom went silent once your presence became known. You swallowed the nerves and chanced a glance at your new classmates. The reactions were a mixture of curiosity and disinterest.

When your teacher introduced you to the class, you decided to really look at your new classmates. Among the sea of unfamiliar faces, one stuck out. An unnaturally attractive face belonging to an unfamiliar boy. His stare was strange. It was full of an intensity you couldn’t comprehend. You kept staring, in spite of yourself. Fuck. Was it possible for someone to be so attractive?

The clapping of your classmates pulled you back into reality. You were quick to look elsewhere, unable to understand the sudden lurch of your heart.

Suho couldn’t take his eyes off the new girl, more specifically, the string neatly wrapped around her index finger. He watched her carefully. The shy smile she wore was annoyingly adorable, and it made a foreign warmth spread across his chest and along his entire body. The new girl didn’t spare him another glance as she took her seat next to Jugyeong.

Lim Jugyeong.

He wasn’t her soulmate and she wasn’t his, but she was the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart. That wasn’t about to change because some stranger who he was supposedly meant to be with came into his life with no warning.

Suho looked back to the front of the classroom without looking at the new girl again.

The first time it happened, you wrote it off as fatigue. After all, you had just started middle school and trying to keep up with your new workload as well as your budding social life was exhausting. That day, the color of your string had faded a bit, but it was still visible. By the time you were on your way home it disappeared for a mere second before regaining its color. Days later, it was completely gone.

When your mom first found out you could no longer see your string, she became extremely distraught. It had affected her more than it did you, honestly. She wasted no time in taking you to see countless specialists and psychologists. Anything to keep you from becoming a freak that didn’t know who they were meant to be with. She unknowingly made you feel exactly like that.

Apparently, you were a rare case because every person you went to for help wanted to conduct a study on you and your condition. Fortunately for you, your mom didn’t want you becoming a lab rat and decided to stop seeking out help from strangers. Left with no other option, you went to one person who she believed could help you. An old friend of hers.

He wasn’t a specialist, just a regular doctor who came to the conclusion that a deep, scarring trauma had caused you to no longer see your string. You could remember the heartbreak on your mom’s face because you both knew what that trauma was.

Your mom did her best to help you. Spending more time together and countless hours of therapy did nothing for your condition. Nothing worked. You became convinced that trying to see your string again was futile.

And you were right.

As time went on, you grew used to the unease that had latched itself onto you on that first day. The feeling in your bones settled in like an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. No matter what you did, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Eventually, you gave up trying.

However, something shifted when you crossed paths with Lee Suho.

You two had been put in the same group for a science lab. His attention had been solely on Lim Jugyeong, but there were times when your eyes would meet. Those milliseconds were just that, but to you they felt like an eternity. He rarely addressed you, but when he did, you could feel the pressure weighing on your bones fade bit by bit. That familiar feeling soon shifted into a more comfortable presence that you yearned to feel forever.

It was subtle, but at some point, Suho’s emotionless face changed. The change would last for no more than a second, but it always did when he looked at you. That change had your entire stature seeping with warmth. You vaguely recognized the feeling as something akin to infatuation.

It scared you.

Of course, the possibility that he might be your soulmate crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed that thought.

Too many times had you gotten in trouble for insisting someone was your soulmate when they really weren’t. Any special bond or feelings that grew between you and someone else couldn’t always be interpreted as the ones between soulmates. You learned that the hard way.

Besides, your soulmate would make it clear to name themselves as such even if you couldn’t see the string.

At least, you hoped they would.

Philophobia.

Before you went into high school, your mom insisted you see one last psychologist with the promise that the one she found was different. Reluctantly, you went to see this woman who diagnosed you with this absurd illness. You felt like it was made up, but your mother was adamant that you did have it.

You knew she only thought that because you had told her you no longer had any interest in finding your soulmate. Her panic was unrivaled after hearing those words come out of your mouth. You wrote off her panic because your disinterest in soulmates was only natural. How could it not when—at the time—it was all your friends could talk about? Talk about being the odd man out.

Okay, and maybe you also weren’t keen on meeting new people because of the fear that they could easily ignore the string you couldn’t see. There was also the fear that if you ever did meet someone you wanted to spend your life with, they could end up not being your soulmate and vice versa.

But those feelings would all fade with time, you were sure.

Hanging out near the back of the school where no one ever went became a regular thing for you. It was the one spot where you didn’t have to worry about your soulmate or anything related to that—a safe place. Until it wasn’t.

“You can’t just ignore the bond you have with her.”

The angry voice was one you vaguely recognized. You peeked around the corner, eyes widening when you saw Han Seojun and Lee Suho in the middle of what appeared to be an argument.

“Why are you bringing that up?” Suho’s eyes narrowed. “Do you still like Jugyeong?”

Seojun’s gaze hardened. “It’s not about that.”

It was wrong to listen on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation, but your feet wouldn’t move. You could see Suho’s anger and irritation from your hiding place, and for some reason seeing him that way made a blistering discomfort latch itself onto your chest.

“You’re being unfair to Jugyeong and Y/N.”

The mention of your name had your insides twisting into an uncomfortable knot. You didn’t understand why or how you had anything to do with the discussion, but you had a feeling the reason wasn’t anything good.

“Just because she’s my soulmate doesn’t mean I owe her anything.”

There was a sharp pain in your chest, one that grew into a searing pain as the seconds ticked by. You might’ve cried out in pain had it not been for the shock that consumed you. In a sudden instant, your vision became blurred with tears as you staggered back. His words were the worst form of torture, like a piece of barbed wire that wrapped itself around your heart.

Your fate was a cruel one, forever bound to someone who refused to acknowledge the bond between you two. Lee Suho was your soulmate, but he didn’t want to be.

It was a cruel reality to have your worst nightmare come to life.

“Is it true?”

Suho raised an eyebrow at you. His gaze didn’t soften like it once did. Now it just remained impassive, almost annoyed. The cold look he was giving you was making you regret even coming to him in the first place.

“Are you really my soulmate?”

“Why are you acting like you don’t know?” Suho’s unaffected stare unsettled you. “You’ve known since the first time we saw each other.”

But you hadn’t known. This entire time you had been driving yourself crazy thinking you were only imagining the connection between you two like you had done countless times after you first lost the sight of your string. Despite wanting to tell him that, you settled for a question.

“What about Jugyeong? Don’t you think she—?”

“Are you going to tell her?” He interrupted you.

You could literally hear your heart crack. Of course that’s all he cared about. He didn’t care whether or not you were hurt and upset, hell, he probably thought you had no interest in your soulmate. But he was wrong, so very wrong.

“Why?” He demanded. “You don’t want me as your soulmate either. You’ve been ignoring the bond, too.”

I can’t see my string! You nearly yelled. The words were clawing at your throat, eager to be released. But you found yourself unable to tell him the truth.

“My soul chose yours,” you said, close to tears. “And a soul just doesn’t forget that.”

For a moment, one that was so quick you thought you imagined it, Suho looked remorseful. Stupidly, it made you hope that he would accept you and the bond that bounded you together.

“Don’t tell her.” His voice didn’t sound like a plea, but you knew what he was asking you to do was clearly important to him. “I can’t loose her.”

And so, you agreed. Even if it meant that your own heart would be left in tatters.

#lee suho x reader #true beauty fanfic #lee suho imagine #lee suho fanfic #true beauty imagine #cha eunwoo #cha eunwoo imagine #cha eunwoo x reader #true beauty tvn

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maria-akira · 4 years ago

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good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

#michael langdon imagines #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs x reader #american horror story #ahs #ahs 8 #ahs 9 #ahs smut #cody fern imagines #cody fern x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #michael langdon smut #duncan shepherd smut #american horror story 9 #xavier plympton imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagines

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dull-bun · 4 years ago

Text

Them with an S/O who gets sad really suddenly

BNHA boys s ss (once again-) with an S/O who gets sad really suddenly and out of nowhere @chaoswrites IM REALLY SORRY I LEFT YOU TO WRITE THIS I WAS JUST FEELING SAD :(

Warnings/TW: Maybe a lil bit of angst, mentions of depression?, crying, swearing Gender neutral

hi- This is, once again, kinda a vent since I tend to get really sad even if just a second ago I was wheezing FVERHBHJR cause ✨mental illness luv✨ GFEJFRBEJ to my purple heart anon and the anon who requested for collot, I promise I’ll work on those after this! I’m very sorry if I take too long!

💥BAKUGOU KATSUKI💥

You guys were taking a walk in the park (it was Mina’s idea)

You were being your happy self, eating (random snacc)

The rest of the group were walking alongside you both

Bakugou was being his tsundere self, secretly staring at you

you looked so cute🥺🥺

Bakugou started talking to Kirishima

Everyone was talking to at least someone, besides you

You didn’t mind, so you just smiled softly and started humming

After a while you stopped humming and suddenly felt really sad

Katsuki noticed this

You were trying not to cry

You didn’t know why you were sad :(

You were having such a good time, why were your dumb emotions getting in the way? (YOUR EMOTIONS ARENT DUMB BTW >:(() “Uh, I’m going to sit here for a bit, you guys can keep walking” You said as you sat on a cream colored bench, smiling fakely. The group (besides katsuki) kept on walking after they acknowledged what you said. Bakugou huffed and sat down next to you. “Hey idiot, what’s wrong?” He grumbled, making you look at him. You started tearing up and just shrugged, really not knowing why you were sad. “I-I don’t know..” You said softly, your voice sounding strained and quiet.

After that you both went to the dorms

You felt bad that you had ‘ruined’ the day for Katsuki :(

Katsuki just shushed you RBFHJER

You guys went into his dorm and cuddled, Bakugou rubbing circles into your back

You were crying, not sobbing but not crying quietly either

Bakugou didn’t mind you getting his shirt wet

You eventually fell asleep

Bakugou kissed your forehead but you didn’t hear it from me HJFEFRJ

💚IZUKU MIDORIYA🌿

You and Midoriya were laughing, just watching a shitty movie

You both were having a great time!

Until you weren’t :(

You suddenly felt really sad

You pulled your blanket over your head, trying not to tear up

You laughed with Izuku, trying to act happy for him (he deserves everything)

You soon didn’t have the energy to laugh

So you just buried your face into a pillow you were holding, crying silently

Izuku didn’t hear you, he had thought you had fallen asleep

He was going to ‘wake you up’ so he could ask you if you wanted a snack from the fridge or something

But then he heard you sniffling :(

Mans literally went D: You didn’t notice little babi Izuku being right in front of you, frowning. You just wanted to go to your own dorm and cry, not wanting to ruin the moment for Izu. Izuku gently put a hand on your covered head, trying to comfort you the best he could. “H-hey.. What’s wrong?” He asked softly, slowly and gently hugging you. “I don’t k-know..” you sobbed out, gripping his shirt.

Izuku comforted you for the rest of the afternoon

He liked knowing he was making you feel comforted, so he didn’t mind not watching the movie

You both fell asleep

In the end Izuku didn’t get snacks :((

But he was happy that he made you feel better :)

And if you’re happy he’s happy

If you’re sad he’s sadder

HFREHBHJRNKFNERJ

You guys cuddled on the floor AHBHEWJBFJ

🔥SHOTO TODOROKI🧊

You and Todoroki were out shopping, just having a grand ol’ time y’know?

You and Todo had been a thing for a couple of months, almost a year

Ya’ll loved each other so much 🥺🥺

It was difficult in the beginning, Todoroki being closed off and all

But he slowly opened up to you

And that made you happy :D

But right now, you weren’t so happy

You thought about all the times he’s done things for you, like buy you something you were eyeing from a store

You felt like you didn’t do much for him :( (Spoiler: You did a lot for him too)

So you started getting sad :((

As the day dragged on, you declined his offers to get something for you, even if it was a small snack

You offered to pay for most of the things

Of course your behaviour didn’t go unnoticed by Shoto

Mans was worried :(((((

You reassured him it was nothing, you were just tired

Shoto and you soon decided to go back to the dorms

You plopped down on his bed and shoved your face into his pillow, trying to seem like you were sleeping

Shoto frowned softly and sat next to you, putting a gentle hand on your head (SHOTO JUST PUSHES YOUR HEAD ON THE PILLOW HJFREHJFEJRW JK JK-)

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he decided to ask You shook your head and shrugged, finally turning your head to face him. “I don’t know..” You said softly and wiped your teary eyes. He understood the feeling of sadness coming out of nowhere. He didn’t need you to tell him more. “It’s okay.. Come here”

He pulled your head to his chest and laid down on the bed with you

He whispered small reassurances, running his hand up and down your back

It made you feel a little better at least :D

You thanked him softly, kissing his covered chest and saying a small ‘I love you’ then falling asleep

He smiled softly and kissed your head, muttering a small but heartfelt ‘I love you too’

I’m sorry for you know- The OOC characters :( I made this bcus I always get sad for no reason HWHJWEVRH Anyway, thanks for reading!

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wolfstar-in-color · 3 years ago

Text

July Colorful Column: Remus is a Crip, and We Can Write Him Better.

There is one thing that can get me to close a fic so voraciously I don’t even make sure I’m not closing other essential tabs in the process. It doesn’t matter how much I’m loving the fic, how well written I think it is, or how desperately I want to know how it ends. Once I read this sentence, I am done.

It’s written in a variety of different ways, but it always goes something like this: “You don’t want me,” Remus said, “I am too sick/broken/poor/old/[insert chosen self-demeaning adjective here].”

You’re familiar with the trope. The trope is canonical. And if you’ve been around the wolfstar fandom for longer than a few minutes, you’ve read the trope. Maybe you love the trope! Maybe you’ve written the trope! Maybe you’re about to stop reading this column, because the trope rings true to you and you feel a little attacked!

Now, let’s get one thing out of the way right now: I am not saying the trope is wrong. I am not saying it’s bad. I am not saying we should stop writing it. We all have things we don’t like to see in our chosen fics. Maybe you can’t stand Leather Jacket Motorbike Sirius? Maybe you think Elbow Patch Remus is overdone? Or maybe your pet peeves are based in something a little deeper - maybe you think Poor Latino Remus is an irresponsible depiction, or that PWPs are too reductive? Whatever it is, we all have our things.

Let me tell you about my thing. When I first became very ill several years ago, there were various low points in which I felt I had become inherently unlovable. This is, more or less, a normal reaction. When your body stops doing things it used to be able to do - or starts doing things you were quite alright without, thank you very much - it changes the way you relate to your body. You don’t want to hear my whole disability history, so yada yada yada, most people eventually come to accept their limitations. It’s a very painful existence, one in which you constantly tell yourself your disability has transformed you into a burdensome, unworthy member of society, and if nothing else, it’s not terribly sustainable. Being disabled takes grit! It takes power! It takes a truly absurd amount of medical self-advocacy! Hating yourself? Thinking yourself unworthy of love? No one has time for that.

Of course, I’m being hyperbolic. Plenty of disabled people struggle with these feelings many years into their disabilities, and never really get over them. But here’s the thing. We experience those stories ALL THE TIME. Remember Rain Man? Or Million Dollar Baby? Or that one with the actress from Game of Thrones and that British actor who seemed like he was going to have a promising career but then didn't? Those are all stories about sad, bitter disabled people and their sad, bitter lives, two out of three of which end in the character completing suicide because they simply couldn’t imagine having to live as a disabled person. (I mean, come on media, I get that we're less likely to enjoy a leisurely Saturday hike, but our parking is SUBLIME.) When was the last time you engaged with media that depicted a happy disabled person? A complex disabled person? A disabled person who has sex? No really, these aren’t hypothetical questions, can you please drop a rec in the notes?? Because I am desperate.

There are lots of problems with this trope, and they’ve been discussed ad nauseam by people with PhDs. I’m not actually interested in talking about how this trope leads to a more prevalent societal idea that disabled people are unworthy of love, or contributes to the kind of political thought processes that keep disabled people purposefully disenfranchised. I’m just a bitch on Tumblr, and I have a bone to pick: the thing I really hate about the trope? It’s boring. I’m bored. You know how, like, halfway through Grey’s Anatomy you realized they were just recycling the same plot points over and over again and there was just no WAY anyone working at a hospital prone to THAT MANY disasters would stay on staff? It's like that. I love a recycled trope as much as the next person (There Was Only One Bed, anyone?). But I need. Something. Else.

Remus is disabled. BOLD claim. WILD speculation. Except, not really. You simply - no matter how you flip it, slice it, puree it, or deconstruct it - cannot tell me Remus Lupin is not disabled. Most of us, by this point, are probably familiar with the way that One Canonical Author intended One Dashing Werewolf to be “a metaphor for those illnesses that carry stigma, like HIV and AIDS” [I’m sorry to link you to an outside source quoting She Who Must Not Be Named, but we’re professionals here]. Which is... a thing. It’s been discussed. And, listen, there’s no denying that this parallel is a problematic interpretation of people who have HIV/AIDS and all such similar “those illnesses” (though I’ll admit that I, too, am perennially apt to turn into a raging beast liable to harm anything that crosses my path, but that’s more linked to the at-least-once-monthly recollection that One Day At A Time got cancelled). Critiques aside, Remus Lupin is a character who - due to a condition that affects him physically, mentally, emotionally, and intellectually - is repeatedly marginalized, oppressed, denied political and social power, and ostracized due to unfounded fear that he is infectious to others. Does that sound familiar?

We’re not going to argue about whether or not “Remus is canonically disabled as fuck” is a fair reading. And the reason we’re not going to argue about whether or not it’s a fair reading is because I haven’t read canon in 10-plus years and you will win the argument. Canon is only marginally relevant here. The icon of this blog is brown, curly haired Remus Lupin kissing his trans boyfriend, Sirius Black. We are obviously not too terribly invested in canon. The wolfstar fandom is now a community with over 25,000 AO3 fics, entire careers launched from drawing or writing or cosplaying this non-canonical pairing. We love to play around here with storylines and universes and races and genders and sexualities and all kinds of things, but most of the time? Remus is still disabled. He’s disabled as a werewolf in canon-compliant works, he’s disabled in the AUs where he was injured or abused or kidnapped or harmed as a child, he’s disabled in the stories that read him as chronically ill or bipolar or traumatized or blind or Deaf. I’d go so far as to say that he is one of very few characters in the Wide Wonderful World of media who is, in as close to his essence as one can be, always disabled. And that means? Don’t shoot the messenger... but we could stand to be a tiny bit more responsible with how we portray him.

Disabled people are complicated. As much as I’d like to pretend we are always level-headed, confident, and ready to assert our inherent worth, we are still just humans. We have bad days. We doubt our worth. We sometimes go out with guys who complain about our steroid-induced weight gain (it was a long time ago, Tumblr, okay??). But, we also have joy and fun and good days and sex and happiness and families and so many other things.

Remus is a disabled character, and as such, it’s only fair that he’d have those unworthy moments. But - I propose - Remus is also a crip. What is a crip? A crip - like a queer - is someone who eschews the limited boundaries placed on their bodies, who rejects a hierarchy of oppression in favor of an intersectional analysis of lived experience, who isn’t interested in being the tragic figure responsible for helping people with dominant identities realize how good they have it. Crips interpret their disabilities however they want, rethinking bodies and medicine and pleasure and pain and even time itself. Crips are political, community-minded, and in search of liberation.

Remus is a character who struggles with his disability, sure. But he’s also a character who leverages his physical condition to attempt to shift communities towards his political leanings, advocates for the rights of those who share his physical condition, and has super hot sex with his wrongfully convicted boyfriend ultimately goes on to build community and family. Having a condition that quite literally cripples you, over which you have no control, and through which you are often read as a social pariah? That’s disability. But using said condition as a means through which to build advocacy and community? Now that’s some crip shit.

Personally, I love disabled!Remus Lupin. But I love crip!Remus Lupin even more. I’d love to see more of a Remus who owns his disability, who covets what makes him unique, and who never ever again tells a potential romantic partner they are too good for him because of his disability. This trope - unlike There Was Only One Bed! - sometimes actually hurts to read. Where’s Remus who thinks a potential romantic partner isn’t good enough for him? Where’s Remus who insists his partners learn more about his condition in order to treat him properly? Where’s sexy wheelchair user Remus? Where’s Remus who uses his werewolf transformations as an excuse to travel the world? Where’s crip Remus??

We don’t have to put “you don’t want me” Remus entirely to bed. It is but one of many repeated tropes that are - in the words of The Hot Priest from Fleabag - morally a bit dubious. And let’s face it - we don’t always come to fandom for its moral superiority (as much as we sometimes like to think we do).

This is not a condemnation - it is an invitation. Able-bodied folks are all but an injury, illness, or couple decades away from being disabled. And when you get here, I sincerely hope you don’t waste your time on “you don’t want me”ing back and forth with the people you love. I’m inviting you to come to the crip side now. We have snacks, and without all the “you don’t want me” talk, we get to the juicy parts much faster.

Colorfully,

Mod Theo

#wolfstar #disability in fandom #disabled remus #crip remus #please write me some crip remus #I beg of you #fandom meta

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broadstflyers · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic! It's really just an idea I've had for months, and then wrote, and then couldn't figure out which hockey boy it fit, until some mutuals were kind enough to help. I settled on our boy Barzy! It's inspired by Taylor Swift's "Gold Rush", and I really wanted to do my best in reflecting the beautiful imagery this story creates for me. I hope I did it justice. It's a little terrifying putting my writing out there, but I hope people enjoy it!

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Two curse words, it's really just internal conflict within the reader

Summary: You're celebrating your dad's 50th birthday with some friends and family at a dinner party. You happen to land your eyes on a beautiful stranger, who you can't seem to get out of your head. You spend the rest of the night wondering, should you go up to him?

Or do you let him walk out the door?

___________

They say when you first lay eyes on your soulmate, time stands completely still. As you gaze into their eyes, it feels as though you’ve known them for multiple lifetimes. It feels like home. Is that even remotely true?

You start to take a sip of your drink and turn your head slightly to take in your surroundings. Your eyes dance around the room, until they stumble upon another pair of wondering eyes. Your eyes lock, and you’re instantly sucked into the mysterious yet intriguing twinkling grey-blue color that compliments his navy blue suit. Suddenly, your breath hitches in your throat, every part of your body stiffens, except for your lips that part slightly and eyes that widen. The drink is long forgotten, you’re even struggling to keep it from practically falling out of your hands and onto the wooden floor. The party is now just a blur, the noise? What noise? The world is muffled, as if someone stuck your head into a hundred pillows. Images stream through your mind like an endless movie reel wrapped in shimmery gold. Endless laughter on a first date over coffee. Him rubbing the back of your hand as you take a stroll through the park. Holiday mornings, exchanging gifts. Would he participate in the tradition of opening small gifts first, or would he want the biggest gift right off the bat? Ice skating and him catching you as you stumble on a pesky track in the ice. Him tossing you into the pool while you’re trying to put up a fight in a losing battle. A sweet and quiet proposal where he promises his forever love. A kiss at the altar in front of all your friends and family. Chasing after rambunctious little kids trying to get them to nap. All these gold dripping images of a pure love plow through your brain. Your heart is the unmovable object. They are the unstoppable force.

You and him only shared a look for what was probably half a second, but the thick air that seemed to only be affecting you made time feel like it stood completely still.

You burst back into reality with the help of a slight head shake. “Woah,” you quietly whisper. You blink a few times and finally get around to taking a sip of your drink to quench your parched throat. Did you just see a whole future...with a stranger?

“Hey, are you okay?” Stella asks. Her hand gently touches your arm as she cocks her head to the side. Her brows are furrowed in what can only be described as pure confusion. Did you really space out that badly as she was talking? What were you guys even talking about?

“Oh,” you say as you gently shake your head, “yeah.” You chuckle, “yeah, I’m just fine.” You wait a beat then say, “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom really quickly, okay?”

“Sure thing,” she nods. “Do you need me to come with?”

“I’m totally fine, I promise,” you reassure with every bone in your body while giving her your drink. You really just needed to be alone to calm your racing mind that has now turned a complete stranger into a romantic interest with the power of a golden montage.

You make your way over to the exit of the dining hall and push the creaky open with your shoulder, and the amount of force you had to use honestly hurt. Your heels click down the tiled hallway of the golf club to find the bathroom door. The rectangular bathroom mirror framed in an intricate gold design holds your reflection. You slightly tilt your head as you take a look at your face. It’s like someone took the color of a clown nose and colored in your face with it. Jeez. You shake your head and sigh. This isn’t good, and deep down, you know that. You hate when you’re like this, all flustered over someone who just happened to lock eyes with you. His eyes. They were gleaming and just all around beautiful. What were you thinking again?

Oh, right.

Well, it’s pretty obvious he has this power over you, and you don’t like that. Now is your face going to become red everytime you see him? You check your phone. There’s still two hours left, plenty of time to possibly see him again. You can’t tell if that’s necessarily a good or bad thing.

You pace around the bathroom trying to reason with your begging heart. He was pretty good looking, which means that so many people naturally want him. Who was he even talking to, anyways? You gasp and stop in your tracks, blood running cold. “He was talking to a girl,” you mumble. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t sound completely and utterly crushed. In the heat of the moment, you completely failed to realize the blonde standing next to him. You lean over the counter, the cold marble feeling on your arms making your arms break out in goosebumps. You take one last stern look in the mirror at your face. “See, this is why we can’t allow ourselves to fall that hard,” you whisper angrily, “everyone wants him, and I just...I don’t like a gold rush like that.” You shake your head again and take one last deep breath to shake out any other thoughts. You can see yourself standing barefooted at the bottom of a hole looking astounded at how tall the walls have grown, and how distant the light looks. It feels like you soared lightheartedly into the sky, just to fall and crush every bone in your body.

You roll your eyes to yourself while slightly cursing yourself out. Pushing the bathroom door open, you step out into the hallway and make a beeline back for the dining hall. Your purse starts spastically vibrating, so you hastily fish your phone out to put an end to the obnoxious noise. Scanning the text, you read that your mom is asking where you went, as the cake for your dad’s birthday is going to be cut soon. You sigh as you text, “I’m hurrying back now.”

That’s all you see before you feel a slight brush tickle your bare shoulder. Your eyes don’t dare move from your phone screen. You reason that it’s not someone you know, as they would have said something to you. Your hands shake as you put your phone back in your purse.

“Oh, sorry,” the voice trails off as he continues to walk down the hallway after he brushed up against you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, without turning around, which is admittedly ridiculous.

As soon as you can judge his footsteps are far away enough, you make a quick glance behind to see if it really was him. And judging by the navy blue suit, it was.

Suddenly, the golden montage flows through your mind once more, showing an image of yourself wearing an old shirt of his, maybe one from when he was in high school for whatever sport he played, if he played one. Your feet feel the coolness of the wooden floor of the supposed home. The home both of you share? It’s so tangible, so real that you almost reach out to touch it. It’s right there...

Your head jerks yourself out of the vision once more, or rather the fact that you’re now faced with a white wall in front of you. You sigh a long frustrated sigh. I can’t believe I really walked by the entrance, how embarrassing, you think as you turn on your heels to backtrack. Why does this stranger have you so wrapped around his finger? No one else has been able to even come close to doing that. You feel your face with your hand, and it’s burning. I’ll go in there looking like a tomato, it’s fine.

You do your best to quite literally shake off those thoughts as you push open the dining room hall door. “There you are!” your mom says. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on, we’re going to sing happy birthday to Dad.”

“Can’t wait,” you beam. After all, your dad only turns 50 once, and this night is about him, afterall. You follow your mom to a table with a white tablecloth resting on it.

Stella pops out from behind your dad to approach you and whispers, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You resist the urge to gently shove her in front of everyone. “Yes,” you pleadingly insist, “now stop asking me in front of Mom and Dad, they’ll think something is wrong.”

She side eyes you with an attitude. “Fine.”

“They’re my girls,” your dad says with a smile.

You and Stella laugh while leaning into him for a quick hug. “Hey dad,” you both say in unison.

The room completely dies down, people could hear a pin drop. “Ready?” your mom asks the guests. The room takes a collective deep breath.

And so the melody of Happy Birthday rings joyously through the hall, you can see the mystery stranger out of the corner of your eye. Heat radiates off your skin, it’s almost like you can feel his eyes boring into you. It takes all the willpower you can muster, but you resist the temptation to look over at him all throughout the song.

When the song is over, the room breaks out into obnoxiously loud clapping. You, Stella, and your parents share loving looks and warm smiles.

Eventually, everyone proceeds to return to normal chatter at the one rectangular table of two that they’re sitting at, and so do you, Stella and your parents.

You pull out your seat next to your sister near the middle of the middle of the table and sit, fixing your dress.

“Ahem,” Stella says in an ill attempt to cover her suspiciousness with a clearing throat noise. Queue whatever accusatory question she’s got.

“Let me just set something straight,” she starts.

“Go for it,” you say as you reach for some water.

“It’s definitely that guy a few seats down, isn’t it?” She smirks. She’s got you trapped in her little web, and she knows it.

You may or may not have fought back choking on your water or pulling a ridiculous spit take on the nice white table cloth.

You lean in and harshly whisper, “Well you didn’t have to say it that loudly.” You glance over at the mystery stranger and see his hand wrapped around his glass as he goes to drink it. He has a thick silver ring on his pointer finger?

“Hello?” Stella shifts her head to selfishly cut off your view of him.

“Okay,” you sigh in defeat, “yes it’s him. Happy?”

“Very,” she says, very satisfied because she finally pried it out of you and got you to admit it. Someone else has you wrapped around their finger. She didn’t even have to know all the details of the montages to know. She could tell by the way your eyes glossed over and how your lips would slightly part like you were in a hazy daydream.

And you were.

“Who is he anyway? And why don’t we know him?” You ask.

“I don’t know, honestly. A little strange, isn’t it? Why don’t you ask mom who he is?” She suggests, but her cheshire smile suggests that she will somehow find out, with or without your mom’s help.

“But mom’s going to absolutely harass me until I say something to him. Just you on my tail is enough,” you say with an eyebrow raised as to say ‘don’t test me.’ And Stella knows you’re right.

“Alright, fine,” she concedes, “But why don’t you, I don’t know, talk to him?”

“I did,” you nonchalantly float.

Her eyes widen and her mouth forms an “O” from disbelief. Did you really not talk to people that much?

“Really?” she practically squeals.

“Yeah, he brushed by me and said, ‘Sorry’ so I said, ‘It’s okay.’” Okay, now you get why your friends and family get mad at you for refusing to talk to people. But cracking this joke was one you could not pass up.

Her face scrunches up and she exhibits the biggest eye roll you have ever seen. She opens her mouth to start saying something, probably to scold at you, but you open your mouth to cut her off first.

“Alright no, I haven’t. And do you know why?” As you’re about to get your thought out, you’re interrupted by a fit of laughter down the stretch of the table. Your eyes scan but freeze on the stranger, whose nose is adorably scrunched up as he laughs with multiple, yes multiple, people about goodness knows what. And there’s that other blonde that you still don’t know, laughing with him. You tear your stare away and focus back on your sister.

“Look, that right there. That’s why,” you say, anger burning through your chest.

Stella raises an eyebrow in her own judgemental manner. “He talks to people? You know people do that right?”

Now it’s your turn to return the favor of a judgemental eye roll. “No, Stella, I mean just look at him and the people he’s surrounded by. It’s so obvious that everyone wants him. Just look at that girl with him. I’m not the only one who wants to love him.”

Silence ensues between you two. She picks up her phone and shoots a quick text. After a moment she says, “Well, I think if you just talked to him, you’d be pleasantly surprised with what could happen. I have to help mom with distributing gift bags. You stay here,” she instructs.

You can only assume you’re not being called to help because Stella graciously told your mom that you’re potentially working up the courage to talk to someone that’s not one of your three friends or your family. How generous of her.

A few friends of your dad stop by your seat to say goodbye before they head out. The noise slightly dies down enough to scarcely hear some other conversations. You hear nothing out of the ordinary, just a girl talking about getting into her dream school to some guy. Your ears slightly move as you pick up on a voice that sounds like the one in the hallway earlier.

“Yeah dude, but did you see the fake out on the goalie on the second goal? That had to have been the best part.”

Out of instinct you open your mouth to interject, but quickly shut it and put it under lock and key. You blink in disbelief. Hockey? Did this man just speak on hockey?

You circle the rim of the coffee cup and stare at the brown liquid. In a different universe…

In a different universe you would have actually kept your mouth open, and maybe even squeezed some words out, too.

“Actually, that seamless stretch pass down the neutral zone from the defenseman after a pretty difficult forecheck set up the play pretty well. I’d give him a lot of credit, too.”

He’d probably look a little shocked, as do most guys when you interject your two-sense about hockey. But maybe he’d break out into a small smile and offer a rebuttal. Yeah, that sounds nice. Maybe one day…

Maybe one day you’ll be sitting next to him on the couch, watching a game while cuddling and brushing the hair out of his face. Oh who are you kidding, you’ll be up and screaming at the TV. It’s your staple.

A noise of someone dropping something behind you slightly startles you and pulls you out of your once again golden daydream. You finally stop mindlessly circling the rim of your coffee cup to take a sip, but only to find it’s now ice cold.

This is why you hate looking through a pair of rose colored glasses. It distracts you from enjoying things. You glance over at your dad who’s still talking to one of his good friends that lingered after festivities. You’re supposed to be celebrating him right now, but instead you’re literally stuck in this cursedly pure golden daydream that is almost too good to break.

You can see him. He’s still there, at the end of the table, chatting away with some dude. The blonde left at some point, though.

“Well, I gotta head out, man, good to see you. My sister needs help with packing her stuff for college tomorrow, so we’ve got a busy day coming up.”

Could that girl have been his sister?

“Congratulations to her on getting into her dream school by the way,” the guy says. “I talked to her when she was here earlier, and she seemed super excited.”

A wave of cool relief washes over your body, remembering the conversation about college you picked up on earlier. It was his sister.

“Yeah she is, she worked really hard, and it also involved a whole lot of crying,” he chuckles.

Ain’t that right, you think to yourself.

The table shakes as he pushes out of his chair. Your eyes remain glued to your coffee cup no matter how much you want them to move. You just can’t gather the courage to say something, and you’re cursing yourself for it. You don’t want to sit here and dream about him anymore. You want to actually let these things happen, for once. You want to just unleash all these swirling and sickeningly sweet emotions from your body and drown him in it. You want so badly to leap up and say something, anything. Step on those voices taunting you and mocking you saying that it could never happen, it could never be so it will never be. He’s so inviting that you can’t resist any longer. You go to reach out to him, but the door shuts before you know it.

And just as fleeting as he came,

He’s gone.

Fuck. It feels as though a brick is sitting on your chest, suffocating you. You really let your worries control you, and this time it feels as though you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. You just can’t believe you let it happen when your mind was begging you to talk to him. You always do-

“Shit,” you mumble. In your frustration, you knocked over the remnants of the coffee onto the not-so-white-anymore table cloth. Tears prickle up in your eyes, your throat closes, and your nose begins to sting. You quickly swallow these emotions down your throat and begin to use a napkin to soak up the excess coffee. Drinks have really not been your friend tonight.

For the first time, you notice as you clean that it’s just you left in the room, besides a few people cleaning up on the other end. You’re not sure where your family has gone, but you haven’t received any texts prompting you to leave yet. It’s so silent that you can hear some muffled chatter down the hall.

Suddenly, you hear the same creak of the door open with an “oof” that doesn’t quite sound like your dad. Your blood runs cold and you freeze mid press into the tablecloth. You glance up without turning around to see a lone jacket hanging on a chair suspiciously close to the chair he previously sat in. Your eyes widen and dart around the room, but you dare not move, waiting to see what he does. Even after cursing yourself out for ten minutes while cleaning up spilled coffee, you still haven’t learned to make the first move. His presence feels like a forcefield, you can feel it heavily pressing into your back.

But he isn’t moving to grab the jacket, no.

A pointer finger with a silver ring taps your shoulder.

“Hey,” the clarity of his voice rings in your ears like a bell. Your heart is racing so fast that it feels like it’s going to burst out of your rib cage and run its own 10k. You slowly crank your head around to meet his eyes for the first time-- face to face.

And you must say, his face is really pretty when you actually talk to him face to face. Maybe you should do this more often. You take in his golden features, and struggle to hide a small smirk creeping up on your face. His messy hair falls perfectly into place on his head, and his kind face makes you feel as though a mess of metallic gold swirls are playfully swirling and dashing around you both. You’ve found him in this lifetime.

“I’m Mat, can I help you clean up before I grab my jacket?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #mat barzal x reader

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quantum27 · 2 years ago

Text

tagged by @mickstopher-mouse

Rules: Make a new post and copy the text from this post and fill out the questions with your answers. Then tag five or more people you want to get to know better. Have fun!!!

1. Favorite color(s): bi flag colors which is convenient but I don't think there's any color I dislike. One thing about learning more about art is that colors are like. Useable in endless ways. Even the muddy ones.

2. Currently reading: the letters of Vincent van Gogh and fanfic ig. I should get back to my noncanonical bible and another actual book lmao.

3. Last song you listened to: promise from silent hill 2, not the reprise. Last one with lyrics? Elvis's see see rider cover.

4. Last thing you watched: stargate idk what episode specifically.

5. In school?: I...work at a school. I just graduated from HS. I plan to go to college eventually but y'know. Riding the waves of life

6. Thing you’re looking forward to: Christmas honestly? Which is surprising because ever since a particularly tragic Christmas I've been turned off by the holiday. HOWEVER. I love buying n making stuff for people and because of aforementioned school Job I finally have a solid source of money to buy things for people. I already have a wishlist of shit to buy.

8. Can you cook or bake? Cooking.... Not great. I can make a few things.Pretty neat at baking, even though our oven makes it difficult sometimes. I know some elitists knock boxed cake mixes but when you're mentally ill they're a god send and also easy to add to.

9. Piece of media you’d recommend to anyone: this is hard specifically because of like. The anyone bit. But uhhh. Unironically the Shrek Franchise ig (y'know except for the third.) Oh and also like Free Guy? It's a really good movie tbh. Possibly cookie run kingdom? It is one of the few gacha games you can get lots of stuff without paying money because they have events a lot where you get free stuff. I feel like the rest of my interests you have to be a specific kinda person to get into. Yes this includes Tron. But anyway yea. I know that's technically multiple things but I feel like. "Anyone" is a broad term lmao.

No pressure tags: @mbirnsings-71, @jet-bradley , @feenie-wright10 (are you even active on Tumblr rn idk I'm sorry sebbie 😭) I'm so bad at tagging people

#tag game #quantum27

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yungbud · 4 years ago

Note

Hi my love! When you have time could you write an fluffy & smutty imagine where the reader gets insecure & worries or compares themselves to Ashley? (Halsey) & Dom finds out & shows the reader how much they mean to him & how much he loves them daddy kink in there with the smut please & a lot of praise & saying "I'll take care of you pretty girl" 🥺

Word count:4.1k

TW?: mostly angst and fluff, but mentions of daddy kink and adult themes obviously its smut.

A/n: anything for you my lil nugget 🥺 Smut is at the bottom you horny cunts. I hope it was everything you wanted and more <33

*rewrite

You knew better. Unfortunately, you were self destructive and couldn't help yourself. It was 3AM and Dom was fast asleep beside you, and had been for hours. You, however, had chosen to watch a video before bed. It was titled “Yungblud being cute for 6 minutes straight.”, but of course one video turned to five or six more, until eventually you came along another video. This one was called “Halsey and yungblud cute moments.” and the cover photo was of them in onesies, one of Dom's arms wrapped around her and the other holding the camera. You could feel the pit begin to grow in your stomach. Glancing over at Dom to check he was still asleep, you pressed play on the video, flipping over so you were facing him, so that if he did wake up he wouldn’t see what was on the screen.

It was ridiculous, honestly. How could you be jealous of her when you were the one laying right next to him. It broke your heart the way he looked at her, you couldn’t help but wonder... is that how he looks at you? Why would he? She’s so beautiful, look at jawline, look at those eyes and her voice. Oh god... her voice, she's a musician. You loved music, but you had never been musically inclined and at best you could go hard on the triangle. But her, she understood it all, down to the tour life. When he was overwhelmed with work or couldn’t find a melody, she could help, when he didn’t know how to deal with all the attention, she could help. She was like the perfect mentor/ girlfriend combo. She connected with him in ways you would never be able to. She got it.

Your finger hovered over part 2 of the video, a moment of hesitation before pressing it. You tapped twice more to skip past the person's intro, wasting no time in getting to the painful stuff.

One of the first clips was Halsey talking about the night they met. You knew it was unhealthy, but you couldn’t look away. She described it so beautifully, taking a moment to mention that of course she would because she's a writer and that's how she saw the world, her world was so beautiful. Dom deserved to live in her world.

She went on to say that they had met up in a bar to chat, to which you remembered why. It wasn’t a coincidence, Dom liked her music. He looked up to her. Just another way you could never be who he needed.

You couldn’t help it. He’d made the trade down of the century and everyone knew it. You paused the video momentarily, subduing the verbal attack on your ears and laying your phone down on your chest. Heavy breaths slid past your lips as you tried to calm yourself from a full blown breakdown.

You glanced once more over at Dom, ensuring he was asleep before letting a single tear slip down your face. You used the blanket to wipe it away, basking in the shitty feeling you had created for yourself. You decided that was enough of that, shutting off your phone and plugging it up for the night. After laying there silently for a moment you scooted a bit away from Dom.

You didn’t really feel like being held by him tonight.

----

The first thought in your head the next morning was of the events of last night, the same shitty feeling digging itself into the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck.” You sighed

“Sorry, I was borrowing one of Dom’s shirts. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You turned your head to acknowledge the presence in the room. It was Tom, bent over and digging through a pile of Dom’s clothes.

“All good.” You murmured, flipping onto your stomach and burying your face in the pillow. It smelled like Dom.

Soon after you heard the door shut behind Tom as he left, your head lifting from the pillow. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t really feel like being around Dom today. You couldn’t get past the feeling that he was ultimately worse off with you, that he had settled for less.

You hated the way you felt, your face drooping back into the pillow in an attempt to hide and ended up dozing off, the late night pity marathon catching up with you.

About an hour later you were awoken to Dom’s lips on your forehead. Your eyes met momentarily as you blinked the sleep out of them, reaching upwards in a stretch.

“ ‘ello sleepy head.” Dom says, planting another kiss, this time to your nose. You roll over, replanting your face in the pillow once again, “Are you going back to sleep?” He asks

“Tired.” You mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow.

“It’s 1pm.” no response “How late did you stay up last night?” He asks, laying his head on the pillow next to yours. You shrugged.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” You shifted your head so that you were looking at him, cheek still pressed softly against your pillow “Are you feeling a bit sick? Is it cramps? I can make you a cup of tea and get you some pain killers.” He continued, offering to help you in any way he could. He just wanted to know what was wrong with you, so he could help you. He hated the idea of you up in bed all alone feeling ill. He considered skipping the studio today, he was already cutting it close on time.

“No, I feel fine. Just need a nap. I must’ve stayed up later than I realized, s’all.” You knew you needed to tell him. Every silent moment was filled with you trying to convince yourself to just say something to him. Just talk about it. Just let him in.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be out of the house at the studio, but Tom and Adam are here if you need them. I’ll tell them to be quiet so you can get some rest.” You smiled in response, your eyes closing as he rubbed his thumb lovingly against your cheek “Hey, I love you.” he says, your eyes opening as you mumbled back an I love you of your own, your lips meeting in a chaste kiss before he stood back up and slipped out the door.

As much as you would’ve loved to, you didn’t sleep at all after he left. Tom and Adam had made good on their promise to stay quiet, but it didn’t make much of a difference when that little voice in your head wouldn’t shut up. You opted for distracting yourself with your phone, scrolling through instagram and hoping the memes would brighten your mood. For the most part they did, acting as a simple distraction.

Once you felt a bit better, you decided part of the reason you felt so bad today and last night was partially due to the fact that you hadn’t had anything to eat. You went to the kitchen to prepare yourself lunch, hearing Tom and Adam talking quietly in the other room.

While you were preparing your food you accidentally bumped into a stack of dirty dishes that had built up in the kitchen. You didn’t see what happened and when you turned to check nothing looked broken, but it was loud.

“Y/n?” Tom asks, tilting his head to get a better look into the kitchen.

“Hm?” You respond after a few moments of quiet deliberation. You weren’t exactly ready to be observed as awake, but you didn’t have any other choice, besides blaming it on an intruder who broke in with the intent of stealing the beloved orange tree outside, but when they arrived in the kitchen and were met with such a disgraceful mess decided they had no choice but to clean up after us. Of course, that might have stirred up a bit of a panic. They loved that orange tree, after all.

“Oh you’re finally up. Are you feeling alright? Dom said he thought you maybe came down with something.” Adam says

“I’m alright, thanks for asking. I’m just making myself lunch.”

“Come sit with us while you eat. We’re playing uno.” Tom invites. When you’re done making yourself food, you decide maybe it would be best to join them. It’s not good for your mental health to be stuffed up in your room pitying yourself all day.

You sat with your food in front of you, watching silently as they played.

“You wanna be dealt in the next round? It’s more fun with three players.” Tom offers, you give him a nod in response as your mouth is full of food. As you nod, Adam plays a red six, which ultimately leads to his demise as Tom then plays three red draw 2’s, stopping Adams hand as he goes to pick up and continuing to lay a red skip, then a yellow one, changes the color back to red and ends on his own red 3. You all laughed as Adam was absolutely massacred, almost choking on your lunch.

“There ain’t no coming back from that. Just tap out man.” You say through your laughter, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Adam. You all had small conversation as you finished your lunch, but soon you were done and the cards were passed out.

After a game or two, the round was paused as Adam stood up to get himself a glass of water, Tom and you shouting out your own drink orders from your place in the living room. By the time Adam was back at the table the running conversation had died down a bit. You began to think about why you’d been in bed all day, and the fact that Dom still attributed it to a small sickness. You felt the insecurity growing inside you once again, and you finally decided to talk about it.

“Did you guys like Ashley?” You ask, as inconspicuously as you could manage. You watch as they glance at each other, taking a sip of your drink to occupy your mouth.

“Yeah, she was cool,” Tom says, Adam nodding in confirmation “Why?”

“Just curious, I guess. Did you guys ever hang out?” You tried to play it off as casual conversation, but you got the feeling they were picking up on the fact that there was something more under the surface.

“Not really. Not without Dom, even then it was rare. Who’s turn was it?” Tom continued, feeding into your curiosity while trying to maintain the card game.

“Yours, I think.” You paused for a moment, thinking of your next question “Do you think she was better for him than I am?” Your eyes met with Tom’s as the words left your mouth. He stayed silent for a moment and you couldn’t tell what the emotion on his face was. It felt weird, confiding in your boyfriend’s friends. Usually you could tell what your friends were thinking, or have an idea about what they might say, but you didn’t know these two like that.

“Like how?” He asked, nodding towards you to silently mention it was your turn.

“I dunno, they have the same career.” they let out a small laugh at that.

“She knows how to play a guitar so she loves him more?” Adam says

“Well, no, but…” you tried to remember what you were anxious about “she gets it. She knows what it's like to be on the road all the time and not see your family, she knows about the mental toll being in the public eye has and how to deal with it, she knows how to help if he’s nervous about performing.”

“What makes you assume that?” Tom asks

“She’s been doing it so long.”

“Well, yeah, but knowing how to do that isn’t a part of the job description. It’s less about knowing how to be famous and more about knowing the person you’re with. If it was about that, most people in Dom’s life don't get it. But we get Dom, and that’s what he cares about. You get him, so you have nothing to worry about.” Tom says softly. He made a surprisingly good therapist.

You nodded, picking up 4 cards and sorting through them in your hand.

“But that doesn't mean you get to hide in your room cause you’re insecure. Just cause we’re talking about it doesn’t mean you don’t still need to tell him.” Tom continues, his chin resting in his hand as he looks at you.

“Yeah, of course.” You agree

~~~

You could hear Dom the second he walked in the house, engaging in a small conversation with the boys before making his way up the stairs. You heard his footsteps trail down the hallway and eventually meet your bedroom door, your eyes closing as you listened to it creak open.

“Love? Are you up?” Dom whispered, shutting the door softly behind him. You remained silent, trying to regulate your breathing like that of someone who’s asleep. He sighed, which made your heart crumple a bit. You wondered if you should respond, he might’ve had a hard day, but the nerves took over and you remained silent.

“You’re still sleeping?” He asked, partially to himself, before exiting the room once more. You could hear him talking with Tom from outside the door.

“Has Y/N been asleep all day?”

“Uh, no. She came out and ate lunch and played uno with us around 2. Is she asleep now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

You planned on talking it out with him, and up until he walked into the house you were, but you were suddenly overcome with intense nerves and all you wanted to do was hide. You figured you would get a good night's rest and talk it out with him in the morning, that way if it went badly he would be out for most of the day at the studio and you wouldn’t have to sit in awkward silence as you tried to sleep.

He entered the room once again, stripping himself of his clothes as he preferred to sleep half naked, before joining you in bed. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you into him and wrapping you both in the blankets. Flipping over to face him, you nuzzled closer into his arms.

“Y/N?” He asks again, shifting to see if you’re awake. You hum in response this time, curious as to what he might have to say.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, his hand returning to your cheek as it was this morning. You nod, letting out a small, genuine yawn as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

“How was your day?” You ask, shifting the conversation.

“It was good. We finally got that song done, I think i’m gonna play with it a bit more tomorrow though. It’s good but I think it could be better.”

“You always think it can be better.”

“It always can.” He states simply, making you smile. You loved that about him, his pure determination and dedication to his craft. It can always be better.

“How was your day? Tom said you guys played a bit of uno, who won?”

“It was alright. Yeah, him and Adam were playing when I came down so I decided to join them. I think overall it was probably Tom though, I think he was cheating.” Dom laughed a little at the claim, brushing his fingers through your mess of a hair.

“So...” You began, needing to get a word out so you wouldn’t bail on talking about this. God, you hated confrontation. Especially when it was about something you were feeling.

Dom hummed in response, the gentle reminder to continue breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I wasn’t sick today.”

“No?” He encouraged

“No. I was a bit tired though. But, that wasn’t the problem. I was watching youtube last night and I came across a video someone made. It was, like, a compilation of cute moments or whatever so I watched it cause it was cute. Then I watched another, and a few more, and eventually I came across a video that was called ‘Halsey and YUNGBLUD being soulmates for 3 minutes’... and I watched it.” He lets out a small, quiet snort, not entirely catching onto the vibe of the conversation.

“Jeez, how do they come up with this shit.” He remarked lovingly

“Heh, yeah. It’s just… I watched it and I saw the way you talked about and looked at her… It just got me thinking, yenno?”

“I don’t. What’d it get you thinkin’ about, beautiful?”

“I just felt like maybe you regretted being with me. Maybe you’re still bummed that you guys broke up and you ended up with me. Like maybe you still miss her.” You admit. It’s silent for a moment as he takes it all in, you almost expect him to confirm your suspicions.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I made you feel like that.” He took a moment to think carefully about his next words “I know it must be hard to hear me talk about someone else like that, you can’t really escape my past relationships because of who I am. I honestly never thought of that. I love you, okay? Not anybody else. Obviously she and I had something, but it’s completely in the past and I don’t regret a thing because it led me to you, and I love you so much. You’re my fookin soulmate, I mean it. I’m not gonna let that slip out of your head ever again.” He said, punctuating it with a passionate kiss.

You expected the kiss to end rather quickly, but it didn’t. It kept going, building in intensity as you scooted closer to one another.

“I love you.” You whisper, breaking the kiss momentarily

“I love you so much, pretty girl” He responds, his hand coming up to hold your jaw.

“Hmm, show me.” You whisper, pulling him closer. His hand slides down your side and onto your thigh as your lips meet again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling away lightly before indulging in the kiss once again.

Dom’s hands didn’t stay in one place for long, moving about your body as you made out, pausing his actions for a moment to take your shirt off, placing a kiss to each of your breasts before moving his lips up to your neck, leaving little marks for you to find in the morning. A chill ran down your back as he bit down on your ear, his hands massaging your breasts before reaching behind you and unbuckling your bra, throwing it off to the side and shifting his attention to your nipple. Taking it into his mouth, he presses his tongue flat against it as you lie down to give him a better angle.

His tongue flicking against your nipple while his hand plays with your other nipple. He swapped between which he used his mouth on and which he used his hand, making sure to give them both equal attention, your hands tangling themself into his hair while he did so. When he was satisfied he pulled away, causing you to let out a small whimper as you felt his lips leave you, making their way down your stomach in a series of wet, open mouthed kisses.

When he made it to your underwear he licked a single stripe, taking his his sweet, sweet time. First, kissing his way up one thigh, then back down and ghosting his lips over the area you needed him both, taking a moment to inhale your scent before kissing his way back up the other leg, and right back down.

“Please.” You whine

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He hushed, pulling your panties down your legs and glancing up at you as he did so, mimicking your pout before placing a chaste kiss on your clit. You leant your head back, closing your eyes as you waited patiently for him to begin.

He started off slowly, licking up your slit as he took his time with you. Dom loved to use his tongue anytime he could, you loved it too. When he ate you out, it wasn’t just tongue, he made sure to pay attention to your clit and use his fingers when needed but on nights like tonight, where he really wanted to drive you crazy, he made sure to use a lot of tongue.

“You taste so good, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning against you, his hands wrapped around your thighs as he lost himself in you, holding you like if he didn’t you would take his meal away. You tried your best to suppress the moans he was pulling out of you, knowing Adam and Tom were just rooms away. The way he was working you left you wishing you had come to him with this sooner. Your hips came up to meet his actions, your hand placed firmly on the back of his head, pushing him as far into you as he could go, eager to meet your release.

“That’s it, pretty girl, ride daddy’s face. Let daddy show you how much you mean to him.” He hums, taking a moment to catch his breath. You do as you’re told, the request putting you in anything but a bratty mood. You let out a small moan as he continues his actions, your hips setting the pace.

Once again, it started off slow, until you began to work yourself up. Your hand reached down, tangling itself in his hair once again, tugging as you tried to push yourself further down, your hips speeding up while you bite your tongue to keep down the moans that clawed their way up your throat.

You could feel the pressure building up in your stomach, squeaking out to Dom that you were gonna cum before releasing on his tongue. He let you remain there for a minute, riding out your high while he massaged and kissed your thighs. When you had fully come down you move yourself off his face, making your way down to his bulge where you began to unbutton his pants. His hand quickly came down to stop you.

“Tonight’s supposed to be about you.”

“I wanna make you feel good too.” You say, giving him a small pout. He stops to think for a moment before taking off his pants pulling you over him, giving himself a few painfully slow strokes before slipping himself inside of you. Your hips rocked carefully against him, still sensitive from your last orgasm. His hands continued to massage your hips as you found your pace, finding it harder and harder to remain silent.

“You’re so beautiful, pretty girl. Daddy loves to watch you bounce on his cock.” Dom growls, his hips coming up to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, you give up on holding back your moans at this point as it’s already very obvious to anyone in the house what's happening upstairs.

The bed was creaking, your skin slapping together as he thrust into you, unable to cease the loud moans falling past your lips. Your legs began to shake as you approached your second release. Dom pulls you close, holding you, the gentle gesture in sharp contrast with the way he’s pounding away at you.

“Please can I cum.” You whimper

“One moment,” he interrupted himself with a groan “I wanna cum with ya, love.”

You held on as best you could, melting into his grasp as he worked towards finishing himself off. Soon after he growled a barely audible “Cum.” signifying his release. You moaned against each other, Dom pulling you closer as close wasn’t close enough. He maintained his actions, riding through your orgasm with one hand in your hair and the other lovingly stroking your thigh.

“Daddy’s got you babygirl.” He whispers into your ear, hushing you as you come down from your high.

When you finally felt well enough to sit up, your muscles hurt from the strain so you and Dom decided to have a bath.

He got up to run the bath water just the way you liked it and insisted on carrying you there, because ‘You’re hurtin’ so you can’t walk.’

You didn’t mind, though, laying your head on his shoulder as he carried you princess style into the bathroom. Luckily, the boys were in their rooms with the doors closed, presumably to suppress some of the noise.

The warm watered soothed your aching as you sat with Dom behind you, his wet hands stroking your arms with his head buried in your neck while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

After that night, you didn’t think you’d ever question your relationship with Dom again.

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