#like it makes me very deeply uncomfortable when you use it to talk about like.

[pyroselkie]

Ok I feel like this is gonna be like super problematic or something but I feel like I should just get it out. I welcome comments, discussion, reblogs, and tags.

I find it really hard to talk about my own culture, because white (as in American/Canadian/British/Australian/etc) people talking about their culture has become such a taboo. And understandably so, to be fair, because due to colonization, there are a lot of cultural things that are no longer specific, and are now global in several other cultures that wouldn't otherwise have them.

I often see people in fandom from so many different countries and cultures take characters and put them in their culture: wearing certain clothes, eating certain food, doing certain activities, and so on, and I LOVE it. I love people exploring their love for their own culture and their love for their blorbo(s) at the same time. There's so much joy in it.

There's been several times where I wanted to join in, but felt like I couldn't because I "don't have a culture", as a white British person. But that's just completely untrue? I DO have a culture. It's not one that most people seem to care about, but I do. Sunday dinners, chip shops, pantomimes. Despite growing up in England, my dad is Scottish and I visited his side of the family up in Aberdeen on a regular basis, so kilts (they were worn by most if not all of the men at the first two weddings I remember attending) and bagpipes (I LOVE the sound, they're beautiful when played well) are also on there for me. My accent is a part of my culture too, and I genuinely love my accent (my strange little combination of RP and East Midlands that has people asking me if I'm Canadian...). Don't even get me started on the food (yes it's pretty bland and looks very boring but done right it's tasty and it's filling, yes i think it's stupid as hell that the british empire colonised a bunch of places in order to get spices and now a lot of white people in the UK don't even USE most of those spices)

With a little more thinking, I could probably list a lot more, but I feel like I can't so much as mention it off-handedly without someone showing up out of the woodwork to make fun of lower-class British accents (like when people say "bri'ish" (although I enjoy it when it's used in a neutral and fun way) or when people just completely fuck up and bastardise whichever already-discriminated-against English accent they're making fun of this time - honestly I think RP could stand to be made fun of a bit a lot more), or to make fun of the spices issue (like I said before YES it's stupid, do you think I colonised those countries myself????) and make horrid over-the-top gagging noises whenever "UK" and "food" are so much as mentioned in the same sentence.

I mean look at this. I just wanted to talk about my culture and how it affects me and I feel like I have to have such a huge lead-up and THEN I still feel the need to explain that the british empire sucked and that a lot of our food is quite bland etc etc etc.

With other (non-English speaking/non-white) cultures, people can just mention things and dress their favourite characters in traditional clothes and it's lovely and celebrated. Please keep doing this. Please put your favourite characters in your culture, there is NOTHING more joyful in fandom spaces than spreading your love of your own culture through characters that you also love.

I'd like to join in, is all. I'm not asking for the red carpet to be rolled out for me, I just feel like someone's gonna attack me if I mention my faves enjoying my favourite British food.

But even asking this feels like I'm being White(tm) and throwing a tantrum and whining "WHAT ABOUT MEEE?!?!?!?!" - this is NOT what I'm trying to do here. I don't need attention for it. Honestly the less attention I get the better, it feels like. I've seen some british hate on here that is genuinely horrible and disturbing. And sure, it's deserved for all of the colonisation and the many attrocities, but I didn't choose to be born here????? YES it's terrible but I'm tired of being the punching bag of everything that my country (countries?) have ever done wrong.

Is this entitled of me? It doesn't feel like it, but reading through this post, it kinda looks like it. Am I just insane and paranoid? Maybe. I don't know.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

honestly it's been really healing being back to actively contributing things and writing out thoughts on tumblr the last week or so, because while twitter tends to be easier for me to write out Thoughts on without getting overwhelmed, the environment in the twitter fandom circles i'm interested in is not only infested with antis but cliqueish in a way that is caustic to the fucking soul if you try to express a thought that's more than three sentences long--a hundred times over if you're autistic in slightly the wrong way--and it's incredibly reassuring to come back to an environment where the very kindest and most inclusive people toward you are not clearly thinking the r-slur the entire time they interact with you lmao

[gyubakeries]

hi! I love ur blogs sm! i was wondering if maybe you can do an angst-fluff scenario of mingyu getting jealousy and also a bit insecure with another guy talking with the reader?

𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 | k.mg

a/n: thanks for requesting! glad that you like my writing <33 i hope you like this one too 💗

p.s. wrote this in an hour?? theres like drafts rotting on my laptop but this takes an hour??? wth

word count: 1.8k contents: mingyu x fem!reader , established relationship , title from 'jealous' by nick jonas , as u can tell; mingyu gets jealous , mentions of past relationships , i used a random name for the ex , tiny bit of angst , mingyu gets insecure , hurt/comfort , fluff

mingyu hasn't been able to keep his eyes off of you.

under normal circumstances, you'd notice him and walk over to where he was standing and gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. you'd shoot him a teasing smirk and make some remark about how he's basically drooling all over the floor, and he'd accept it. he'd tell you that he doesn't feel even a tiny bit ashamed to be caught staring at his beautiful girlfriend.

but today wasn't normal.

it's been two hours since you arrived at seungcheol's housewarming party, and for the last thirty minutes, you've been talking to him.

jung eunseok.

he was the man who had left you heartbroken six years ago, which is when mingyu met you and resolved to make you happier than your ex ever could.

he was also the man you've been conversing with for the better part of an hour, and mingyu isn't too sure of how the conversation seems to be going so well, given that eunseok had abruptly ended your relationship with one single text and no further communication.

he trusts you. he's seen you live through the heartbreak and recover, and he knows you won't do anything to hurt him.

still.

he doesn't like the way eunseok smiles at you, he doesn't like the way you're laughing at his words, he doesn't like anything about the interaction.

"woah, you're gonna break that glass with your bare hands if you keep doing that," says someone from beside him, and mingyu turns to see seungkwan give him a knowing glance.

"i-i wasn't doing anything," mingyu tries to cover it up, not wanting to come across as the 'possessive' boyfriend who gets jealous too quickly.

"you're not fooling me," seungkwan rolls his eyes. "look, if you don't want her talking to that guy, just tell her. y/n won't take it in a bad way. but you need to be transparent with her for her to know that you're feeling uncomfortable, yeah?" he advises, patting mingyu's shoulder before walking away.

if only it was that easy.

when mingyu met you all those years ago, you had initially refused all his attempts to take you out on a date in favor of your recent breakup leaving your life messy and disorganized. mingyu had still stuck by your side, wanting to help you get better, which slowly earned him your trust.

before he was your boyfriend, he was your confidant, your pillar of support amidst all the chaos. you had told him all about eunseok and the breakup, and mingyu had sworn that he'd give your ex a piece of his mind if he ever met him.

yet, he remains frozen in his place, even when eunseok is just across the room.

"mingyu, oh my god, just go!" comes jeonghan's voice next. "you're burning holes into the guy's louis vuitton suit with that stare of yours, and trust me, it isn't very cheap."

mingyu inhales deeply, trying to gather courage to face eunseok. he grabs jeonghan's glass of something and downs it in one gulp, cringing at the bitter after taste of alcohol.

"liquid courage," he explains to his friend, before he's making his way to the kitchen. he confidently steps in next to you, sliding an arm around your waist and kissing your temple.

"hi baby, was wondering where you went off to," mingyu smiles at you, reveling in the kiss you press to his cheek.

"i was getting myself a drink, but then i ran into eunseok here!" you tell him. "eunseok, meet mingyu. mingyu, meet eunseok." you quickly introduce them, as if mingyu needed anymore of an introduction to your ex.

he curtly shakes eunseok's hand, looking dead into his eyes and saying, "kim mingyu, her boyfriend."

"yeah, y/n mentioned that earlier," eunseok smugly smiles, as if sensing mingyu's jealousy. "i must say, it's nice to meet the man who's making her happy after me, y'know?"

mingyu feels your body stiffen against his side at eunseok's words.

"eunseok, i don't think it's appropriate for you to say that," you cut in firmly.

"oh! i didn't realize my words would strike a nerve," he gives you both a fake smile. "i apologize, mingyu-ssi. i was just curious to see who could've been treating y/n this well after all these years."

"eunseok, enough," you grit your teeth together, and you can tell by the way mingyu's grip on your waist tightens that the both of you immediately want to take leave of eunseok's presence. "anyways, we should head home now, i'm tired." you look up at mingyu, and his eyes light up.

"what a shame, i would've loved to catch up some more," eunseok drawls, leaning against the counter and shamelessly looking you up and down.

"i hope we never have to again," you give him a tight smile, and then you're leaving the kitchen with mingyu. you both congratulate seungcheol on his new house, and quickly leave the party.

—

mingyu is uncharacteristically quiet on the drive back home, and you can tell it's because of what happened at the party.

"gyu, are you okay?" you ask him softly, noting how he grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles go white.

"i didn't know you were still on talking terms with him," his tone is clipped, and you know that he's annoyed. "i thought he broke your heart all those years ago, y/n."

"he did, mingyu," you sigh. "i swear i didn't let the conversation last that long. i was just being polite because he approached me first."

"why didn't you just leave? you don't owe him an explanation," mingyu counters. "you just stayed there, laughing and smiling at him, while i felt like an idiot because my girlfriend was chatting with her ex-boyfriend for almost an hour!"

"were you jealous?" you ask him, not realizing that your actions affected him to this extent.

"of course i was, y/n," mingyu sighs exasperatedly. "he's your rich ex-boyfriend. he was the one who took you to paris and rome twice a year. he was the one buying you expensive gifts. and i know i'm dating you now, but i've never felt more insecure before anyone."

"mingyu," you whisper, hand reaching out to hold his free one. "you don't have to feel that way about anyone. you're the only one i love, so my past relationships don't matter at all. not when i'm the happiest with you."

mingyu's eyes are trained on the road ahead of him, and he stays silent up until you reach home. you stay quiet too, letting him take his time to sort out how he's feeling.

it's only later, when you've both changed into pajamas and you're in the middle of your skincare routine when mingyu talks again.

"it's so stupid and immature, but i felt jealous because i couldn't help but think he was... better than me," mingyu starts, and you turn to face him. his shoulders are drooping, and he won't even meet your gaze.

"i know how broken you were when he left you, but seeing him with you tonight, it just made me wonder if you would think that he's changed, or that you still want him back. it's wrong of me to think that way about you, i know, but my mind couldn't stop running through all these possibilities. what if you didn't love me as much as you loved him? what if you wanted to leave me to-"

"gyu, baby, slow down," you whisper. caught up in his rambling, he hadn't even noticed when you walked over to the edge of the bed where he was sitting, now standing between his legs and gently running your hands through his hair to calm him down.

"it's okay that you felt jealous and insecure, i'm not mad at you," you assure him, making sure to look into his eyes as you speak so he knows you're genuine with your words. "i can promise you that the conversation meant nothing to me. plus, he really hasn't changed; he's the same self-centered bastard he was all those years ago. i was only stuck there because he couldn't stop bragging about all his success and fame."

"mingyu, i'd never leave you for anyone else, because you're it for me," you admit truthfully. "no one's made me feel more special or happy than you have, and the expensive gifts and trips don't matter. my favorite place to be is with you, and with how much you do for me, i don't need any other gifts. you understand me?"

mingyu nods, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in a hug, his head resting on your chest.

"thank you," he mutters, and you feel the words being spoken against your skin through the fabric of your shirt. "i love you so much. i was just being paranoid about losing you."

"you don't have to be," you smile at him. "i love you too, and i'm staying with you forever. no one can take that away, yeah?"

mingyu abruptly falls back onto the bed, pulling you along with him. after a bit of shuffling around, you're both under the covers and wrapped in each other's arms.

you lay with your head rested against mingyu's chest, but you can sense that he's still thinking about something.

"is something still bothering you?" you ask. "we can talk about it, if it makes you feel better."

"i'm just regretting how things went down with eunseok at the party," mingyu sighs dramatically. "i had always told myself that if i ever came across your ex, i'd step in as the cool, better boyfriend, maybe even give him a piece of my mind. but all i did was get intimidated by that shiny watching hanging off his wrist."

you laugh at how mingyu is pouting, and you playfully shove his chest. "that watch was a rip-off, don't worry. but, if you feel like you need a re-match, we could always just set up another meeting with eunseok-"

"nope, not at all," mingyu stops you, kissing your lips as an interruption. "i never wanna see him around you ever again."

"you don't have to worry about it," you tell him. "i've got my own six-foot pole to poke him away with if he ever gets too close."

"a six-foot pole- wait. did you just call me a pole?" mingyu gasps, realization finally striking him, making you burst into laughter.

"well, what do you prefer?" you joke. "you're literally built like a long pole."

"a sexy, scary bodyguard would be a better description," mingyu sulks.

"sexy, i can agree with. scary? not so much," you tease, and mingyu's pout only deepens.

"whatever, any name works, as long as we're not bumping into him anymore," mingyu gives in, and you kiss him sweetly as reassurance.

"it doesn't matter even if we bump into him, because i only have eyes for you," you promise, and mingyu squeals like a little girl before diving in to press soft kisses to your entire face.

the night ends like that, with both of you giggling under the covers, safe in each other's arms, and filled with a love that will never fade.

- fin.

taglist: @lecheugo @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen @unlikelysublimekryptonite

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[mwahsturns]

bed chem ★ | C.S

Innocent!reader x Chris Sturniolo

Contains: Smut, fluff, after care, use of pet names (ma, baby, good girl), slight dirty talk, praise, dom!chris, strangers to lovers, car sex, backshots,hair pulling and spanking (only once). I think that’s it let me know if I missed anything!

Synopsis: you were on your way to a local thrift shop in downtown L.A when you accidentally bump into someone dropping their Pepsi all over your white air forces. You guys talked for a while as he repeatedly apologized, his blue eyes and his clear Boston accent keeping you in. What happens when he ends up in your backseat?.

Authors note: I told you I had something for the Chris girlies😉 this took so long so I hope you enjoy stay wet whores love ya <3

The cars filled with moans and the sounds of kissing, gosh i don’t know how i ended up here with this guy but god he’s so hot. His hand grabs my throat as he kisses me deeply I moan softly kissing him back my hands in his fluffy brown hair. Gosh it was soft, i don’t remember how we ended up in my backseat but boy do I not regret it.

‘Mmh your lips so soft ma’ he mumbled against my lips kissing me passionately, just that alone had me aroused it’s actually embarrassing. ‘Yours too..’ I mumbled back, I felt him smirk into the kiss his free hand moving onto my thigh. I pulled back slightly. ‘Uh I’ve never gone this far before..’ I can’t believe I had to admit that to this hot guy who clearly wants me back. ‘You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with’ he reassured rubbing my thigh. ‘No no I want this i promise.’

I smile ‘I trust you..’ which is absolutely crazy since I just met him but something about him felt safe and comfortable. ‘If you need me to stop or anything tell me I’ll be as gentle as you need’ I nod as we continue to kiss. After a few minutes I tugged at his shirt just wanting to feel his skin. ‘Needy huh baby?’ He jokes his Boston accent very clear. ‘You could say that..’ I smile watching him throw his shirt into my front seat. ‘Woah he got such a good body..’ I think to myself. ‘You can touch baby. He laughs grabbing my hand making me softly trace his toned body.

‘Woah…’ I say in shock, he laughs his hand moving onto the hem of my shirt. ‘May I?’ He asks, I nod as he carefully takes it off my body. ‘You’re so beautiful..’ he smiles placing kisses on my neck. ‘Chris..’ I whimpered. He smiled pulling back. ‘You ready?’ He asks, I nod watching him undo his pants. Now the backseat of a car isn’t the most comfortable place to have sex but I’m kinda desperate. ‘Okay I’m gonna warm you up okay ma?’ I nod as he gets on his knees in front of me. He undresses my bottom half staring softly. ‘Such a pretty pussy mama’ he smiles placing kisses all around it as my hands run through his hair.

‘I’m gonna start with one finger then add two okay? I gotta make sure you’re prepared for my dick’ I nod i swear I’m so wet I could fill a water bottle right now. He puts one of fingers inside of me making me feel kinda uncomfortable. ‘Chris it feels really weird..’ he chuckles. ‘You never fingered yourself because?’ I shake my head no and he looks shocked. ‘Oh woah you really are innocent..’ ‘is that bad?’ I asked worried. ‘No no.. it means I can have more fun with you’ he smiled before slowly moving his fingers towards my soaked pussy and start to rub me in a circular motion, I gasp.

He eventually adds his middle finger right into me causing me to moan at now having both fingers in me. he starts to pump his fingers faster and faster eventually sucking on my clit. ‘Chris fuck’ I moan gripping his hair. He groans softly as i run my fingers through his hair, his fingers moving faster ‘Fuck, I love your pussy baby’ He keeps to pump his fingers in and out of me, as he keeps licking my clit. I moan uncontrollably having this weird feeling in my stomach. ‘Mmmhmm, you like that? You're getting closer already, aren't you? You always break so easily...’ He curls his fingers inside me, hitting that sweet spot that drives me wild.

‘oh yes..mmh don’t stop Chris..’ I moan my body slightly shaking. He smirks and continues his assault on my pussy, his fingers moving at a steady pace as he watches my face contort with pleasure ‘You're gonna come all over my fingers like a good girl, aren't you?’ I nod quickly. ‘I’m so-so close baby’ ‘That's it, ma ... Come all over my fucking fingers’ He presses harder on my clit with his thumb as he curls his fingers inside me, sending me over the edge into a screaming orgasm.

i moan his name uncontrollably my body shaking slightly. He rubs my inner thigh softly placing kisses around my vagina. ‘you ready?’ For a moment I completely forgot he hadn’t even took my virginity yet. I nod as he sits down placing me on his lap hovering over his tip. He was thick and really long fuck he’s huge he slowly slides me down onto his dick, I hiss at the new feeling I’ve never felt so full.

‘oh Chris…’ I moan softly the pain is so strong I’m unable to move. ‘You got this baby you’re taking me so well..’ he smiles kissing my cheek softly.

The car shook as i bounced on his dick taking every inch of him. ‘Fucking squeezing my shit ma’ he grounds his hands going onto my ass helping me ride him. My tits bouncing in his face his hips matching my rhythm. He takes my nipple into his mouth as I ride him making me throw my head back in pleasure. My hand grips the back of his head as he sucks onto my breast my bounces becoming inconsistent.

He pulls back taking me off him angling me to where I’m bent over my center console. ‘I’m gonna ruin you’ he smiles kissing my back then leaving a painful smack to my ass as he pushes into me. ‘Holy- fuck’ I moan gripping the passenger and drivers seat. Chris continues his thrusts only getting deeper and deeper into my pussy.

After a while he gips my hair pulling it back as he thrusts into me. ‘So- pretty baby’ he pants in my ear making me whimper softly. ‘I feel you- squeeze my shit- fuck- uh you gonna cum f’me ma?’ I couldn’t even speak I was so drunk off his cock. I nod quickly as he lets go of my hair I grip onto the seat so I don’t fall as he grabs my hips thrusting faster. ‘Where do you want it?’ I moan softly ‘my back…’ I smirk still out of breath, I let go cumming all over his dick. He groans pulling out leaving his seed all over my back. ‘Fuck that’s so hot..’ he said taking it off my back and onto his fingers making me lick it off.

‘Come here..’ he grabs my hips making me lean back against him in the back seat. He runs his fingers through my hair kissing my head softly. ‘Is it too soon to say that I really like you?’ He says nervously. I chuckled shaking my head. “No because I like you too’ he kissed me softly. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up okay?’ I nod smiling glad I met the cute boy with white jacket.

An:I hope it was good!! I’m still getting used to all this stuff so I hope it was enjoyable for you Chris sluts I love u guys sm have an amazing day and stay slutty my loves bye! <3

(Comment if you wanna be added to my tag list!)

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 3]

word count: 2145 || avg. reading time: 9 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, comfort

warnings: like one time swearing

[part 1] [part 2]

As soon as the dorm room door closed behind you, your shoes were practically flung off your feet. With a deeply satisfied sigh you stretched and wiggled your toes, slowly feeling the numbness subside. You weren’t used to wearing heels but thought that a third date called for the occasion.

“How was it?”

Confused, you turned around as if your roommate could have possibly meant anyone else. She hardly ever spoke with you so this was absolutely a first.

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, computer on her lap, and brushed her headphones from one ear.

“The… date?”, you asked cautiously, standing frozen in front of the wardrobe like a deer caught in headlights.

The other girl nodded.

“It was… nice?”

“Just nice?”

“He was sweet.”

“That was your second one this week, right? Are you gonna keep seeing him?”

“I’m sorry. I’m still trying to figure out why you’re talking to me.”

She shrugged.

“Because I’m curious.” When you still didn’t say anything, she explained, “I’ve heard all over campus what happened, and… it sucks what your ex did. And I saw how sad you were about it but I’m also really impressed with how you’re handling it now. I guess I just wanna say that at first, I thought it was a really dumb rumor because you were both so obsessed with each other. It didn’t make any sense.”

That brought you out of your stupor. You turned to put your jacket back in the closet and tossed the shoes carelessly into the void somewhere to other disregarded things.

“Yeah.”, you said after a small pause.

“Do you think you’ll get back together?”

Now it was on you to shrug.

“Why d’you ask?”

Your roommate turned the laptop so you could see. It was a live feed of the current varsity volleyball match. Issei was just being switched out and the camera stayed on him as the coach kept talking very fast and gesturing towards the court in an unmistakably urgent manner. Issei simply bowed his head and nodded to his shoes, kneading the pads of his fingers against the water bottle like he always had done when he was anxious. The clip was only about five seconds long but it was obvious that when he turned around to look at the stands behind him he was searching for someone.

Your roommate moved the laptop back so that the screen was facing her again.

“He has been off all game.”

“Well… too bad.”, you said and grabbed your towel and shower caddy.

With three days left until Christmas, the first snow fell. After your tear-filled kiss with Issei at the bench two weeks ago he had left you alone. No more notes, no more loitering around waiting to talk to you and you wondered if this was really how it would be from now on. You figured that finding out you were dating someone else had spooked him into hiding. However, just as you were sure you would never speak another word with him you heard a commotion outside your door. Calls and hollerings were echoing through the hallway from the girls on your floor and you and your roommate both looked up from your essays to then exchange a questioning head tilt with each other. The large pizza carton between you was pushed aside and, brushing your greasy hands off on your washed-out sweats, you got up to see what was going on. When you opened the door you saw four guys hunched over with their heads ducked between their shoulders looking as uncomfortable as can be. Issei, meanwhile, was pushing a fifth down the corridor toward your room. You recognized them now. It had taken a few seconds without their usual sneers.

Your ex had them stand in a row in front of you and then all but one knelt down. Issei gave the last one a tap with his foot on the back of the knee to make him match the others. Heads hung low and hands resting on their thighs, one after the other bowed in deepest apology with their foreheads almost touching the linoleum. The middle one, whom you remembered as the idiot who suggested the bet, began to speak as Issei stood behind them all, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips.

“Y/n-san,”, the middle one said, “we’re very sorry for… for the whole thing.”

Issei cleared his throat. All the girls from the surrounding doors giggled and kept their phones focused on them to film while you were gaping like a fish.

“- for making the bet about you. It was terrible and immature and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. We ask for your forgiveness.” A general murmur of apologies went through the row of kneeling guys.

“Here.”, the middle one fished a crinkly envelope from his hoodie and held it up to you with both hands, “This is the money from the bet. Please accept it.”

“No, why would I want your money?”, you replied in disbelieving disgust.

“Okay.”, your roommate weighed in quietly and slipped past you, snatching the envelope, “I’ll be taking that.”

You frowned at her.

She raised her hands in defense. “Pride and integrity are great and all but we are still students at the end of the day. This will at least fund next month’s pizza parties. I’m just saying.” And she retreated behind you, adding, “Carry on.”

“Just leave me alone and don’t ever talk to or about me ever again. And the sooner you realize that you are nothing but pathetic worms that peaked in high school the sooner you can go to therapy which you obviously need.”

The boys seemed to wait for something, then Issei said, “You heard her. Fuck off.”

All five scrambled to their feet and pushed through the audience of sniggering girls to get away.

Incredulously, you looked at Issei who was very obviously very satisfied with himself.

“How did you even…?”

He chuckled and shrugged as the surrounding crowd slowly dispersed and went back into their rooms and about their days.

“You didn’t beat them up, did you?”

“Worse.”

He walked over to you and leaned casually against your doorframe.

“I called their moms.”

Your roommate snorted and went back to her essay.

There was a pause in which Issei realized that for the first time since the breakup, you didn’t regard him with the previous hurt or anger. His smirk faded into a small unsure smile and he switched between glancing at you and his hands, “You look pretty.”, he muttered, then pushed himself off the doorframe, “Have a good night.”

The clip of the five guys kneeling in front of your door (from varying angles) was all over the campus forum for days giving you finally a different sort of spotlight and leading your fellow students to turn their attention and energy to hackling the bet-makers rather than you. It was a welcome change of pace.

On Christmas morning then you were bundled up tightly in your coat and scarf and trudged through the freshly fallen snow on your way to the library where you would pretend to study while in all honesty, you would just be scrolling on your phone. All just to escape the omnipresent merriment. You had to walk past Issei’s dorm, something you had avoided doing for weeks and instead had taken the much longer route.

“Y/n!”, you heard a shout from overhead and when you looked up into the soft flurry of snow you spotted Issei waving from his window, “Wait there for a moment!”

Two flights of stairs later, Issei jogged through the lobby towards the glass front door to hold it open. “Could you come up for a second, please? - It’s nothing weird, I promise.”, he added when he saw your skeptically raised brow.

You followed him silently until you reached his door.

With a flourish, he opened his room and was met with a wall of smell from a whole bunch of different essential oils. He coughed and flitted into the room to open the window again, using a notepad to fan the air. The whole room was decorated with candles and garlands and even a small fake Christmas tree that obviously had needed a bit of persuasion to stand up straight on the bedside table.

“Sorry.”, he pressed out in between coughs, “I went around the whole building for candles but they all just had scented ones.” He kept feverishly fanning the icy cold air into the room, ignoring the thick snowflakes landing on and soaking through his pillow. A long dead plant in a pot on the windowsill caught the flame of a candle as he waved around the notepad and began to slowly burn to a crisp. “Oh!” He tossed the notepad onto the bed and grabbed the mostly empty can of an energy drink to pour over it.

“Anyways.”, Issei turned around as if nothing had happened and cleared his throat, “You once told me that you were kinda dreading Christmas because you couldn’t go see your family and I promised that I would spend Christmas with you and make it fun, so!” He jumped to his dresser and retrieved a red tin containing slightly burned, painstakingly decorated sugar cookies and handed them to you. Then he turned around and rummaged under his bed until he pulled out a Santa hat and reindeer antlers that he placed on top of the tin in your hands, “I also have your favorite Christmas movies -”, he waved toward his laptop, “you don’t have to watch them with me, of course, but they’re there if you like - and”, he picked up a note from his desk, “here is the list we made of all the Christmas activities that you wanted to do. We can go through them one by one.” You noticed how the paper shook slightly in his hand and how he swallowed a lump that seemingly had formed in his throat while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Mistletoe is kinda inappropriate now but I guess you can… slap me instead if we’re both under it. But the snow is good for a snowball fight and to build a snowman and make snow angels and-“

“Issei!”, you said firmly to stop his ramblings, “This is really nice of you but I’m not in the mood to play in the snow right now.”

“Right… uhm.”, his eyes darted back to the paper in his hand for another idea, “We can go to the coffee shop for that holiday drink I told you about.”, he suggested excitedly instead.

“I… already went and tried it last week with my roommate.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was nice, yeah.”

“Good. Good.” After a short pause, he followed up with, “I’m glad.”

He then hesitated, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again and put the list back on his desk.

You looked around the room - the leftover paper shreds next to the trash can from the cutout snowflakes, the wonky bow on top of the cookie tin, the over-laden Christmas tree. All the effort and genuine thought he had put into everything at the very least made you want to accept his peace offering.

“I wouldn’t mind having it again, though.”, you heard yourself mumble.

“Really? You sure?”

You shrugged.

“Alright, lemme grab my jacket.”

“You should put out the candles.”

“Right!”

“Alright, order placed.”, he announced when he sat down across from you, holding up the little buzzer that would let you know about your drinks.

“How have you been?”, he asked.

“Good. Better. I aced that exam I was so worried about.”

“Knew you had it in your pocket.”, Issei nodded and turned the buzzer nervously in his fingers.

“Let me just tell you that I know there is no excuse for what I did. But know that I am not done apologizing for it. You are everything to me and I am kicking myself every day for not realizing it the moment I saw you. You deserve nothing but the best and I’m glad you found someone who can make you happy.”

“Thank you.”, you allowed yourself to smile, “I appreciate that.”

“So… what’s he like?”, he asked, trying very hard to sound casual.

“Who?”

“Your new boyfriend. Do I know him?”

“Well uhm, he isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Oh?” His fingers turning the buzzer slowed ever so slightly.

“Yeah it just…”, you sighed and shrugged, “didn’t work out.”

You would under no circumstances ever tell him that it was because you had called him Issei while he kissed you. You would take that to the grave.

“Aw, that’s too bad.”

“You know this would be a whole lot more convincing if you weren’t grinning like an idiot.”, you smiled.

taglist: @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324

[part 4]

[thesilmarillionblog]

ANGEL IN DISGUISE

Summary: When Dean gives you a Halloween party explanation, he also gives you a gift: a pair of wings for his angel.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Angel! Reader

Warnings: +18! (light smut), fluff, naive reader, wing kink!!!, soft, teasing, reader has a praise kink, sub!dean

Word Count: 2917

A/N: English is not my first language.

🎃── Halloween Special One-Shot ──🎃

“Can you help me with these pumpkins, sweetie?” While he was having a hard time making a beautiful decoration for Halloween Week, Dean asked with a chuckle. He had been asking for your help, but all you were doing was smiling as you enjoyed the view while watching him. Every time he scooped a pumpkin to give it a form, his muscles stretched out, giving his hands and arms an appealing look. 

You finally got off of the chair and said, “What are the pumpkins for?” as you looked deeply into the eyes of the pumpkin and the lights within. If you touched them, you could make them look brighter. 

“It is only aesthetic for the week of Halloween. They'll be put in the garden.” Dean kept cutting, attempting to make it clear that they are meant to seem frightening.

You laughed out loud despite being confused by the whole idea, “They don't look scary to me.” You couldn't help but feel happy since you would be spending your first Halloween together as a couple with Dean. You lit the newly cut pumpkin that Dean had just made. Your heart seemed to burst with happiness as he glanced at you with pride and affection.

“Nothing is scary for you, isn't it?” Dean immediately gave you a very gentle slap on your ass, making you jump. He shot you a look as you gave him a more powerful spanking through his pants on the ass. He appeared to be in pain.

“Someday, I should give your perty ass a more serious spanking. You really need to learn a lesson. I am telling you.”

You teased him, “I can make your pain go away,” as you hurried to hug him from behind in between laughs. You tuck your head behind his massive arms and wrap your arms around his abdomen. It was difficult for him to do his job while you were being naughty. You enjoyed touching as well as teasing him. It was uncomfortable to watch Dean occupied with anything other than you since he had been battling with pumpkins since the morning. You should have been doing different things. 

“How?” Dean arched an eyebrow and said, “Will you kiss my ass?”

“Do you want me to?” You asked confused since you couldn't tell most of the time if he was being serious or joking. It was not necessary to give him a real kiss to soothe his pain, but if that was his desire, you might fulfill it with joy. He had a lovely ass. 

“Oh God,” he shook his head and moaned. When you took Dean seriously, he couldn't stop chuckling. 

“Don't bring the Lord when we are talking such things, Dean,” you said. He had an excellent connection with words, but he needed to have made more use of them by praying. “Do you really want me to kiss your ass though?” 

Grinning, you met his gaze and held it there until he turned to face you. While he was quietly laughing and confusing you even more, Dean jumped when you held his ass behind his back, signaling that you were about to unzip him and plant a kiss there. 

“Hold on,” he laughed. “Of course, it wasn't what I meant. Plus, you don't have very tough hands.”

“Okay, you lost the chance. You were on the verge of crying there; don't lie to me.” With a murmur of disappointment, you released his ass. “Also, you should not challenge an angel. I could give you one slap and turn your tight ass scarlet.” Of course, you wouldn't do it. 

He grinned at you and released his abdomen, allowing you to see whether you could help him with his pumpkins. “I wouldn't dare,” he said. “Have some mercy, woman.”

“See?” you asked, holding out a little pumpkin that you had lit up and presenting it to Dean. “I'm not always useless. I can apply whatever color you like to make it shine.”

You asked, “What do people do on Halloween?” with curiosity. You had never heard of such a concept before, so you were excitedly awaiting his response, thinking that it would be something amusing for couples like you and Dean. 

“We dress up and pretend like we're somebody else or something.” Dean stared at the pumpkin you were holding proudly and attempted to explain, “You're free to wear anything you like, even if it's weird.” It seemed like you were showing off your power as you continued to brighten them. 

“Why?” 

“It's only a concept, sweetie, and Halloween parties are actually really enjoyable. Trust me. Wearing masks that hide your face, making it impossible for others to recognize you, so that—” Dean abruptly stopped himself before trying to spark jealousy in you, remembering the last Hallowen part he had joined. 

“Hmm,” you said, setting the pumpkin on the table while acting understanding. “Give me an example.”

After taking a breath and placing his knife on the table, Dean turned to face you and wrapped his arms over your belly. Right away, your arms found his neck and pressed your body against his. He had neglected you due to the pointless special week and pumpkins. 

He put his fingers on your ass through your pajamas and said, “For example,” which made you thrilled. “Do you recall the film we saw the week before? Shrek. Fans of the film and its characters can dress up like them. In addition, a large number of people cosplay as angels and devils. They're wearing wings on their backs.”

Crossing your arms across your chest, you scowled. “Real angels don't wear fake wings.” Then you continued to embrace Dean while attempting to justify your explanation, saying things like, “Our wings are magnificent, and none of those people have seen a real angel in their lives.” 

You added, “Demon's wings are simply ugly, but it depends on their rank, of course,” with a chuckle, before Dean said a thing. “Some of their wings are big and very thick. Actually incredibly excellent.” It wasn't appropriate of you to vocally confess that you admired some of their wings, but you spoke before you thought it through. 

Dean grimaced as you gave him an ashamed look. “Thick and big, huh?” he said, obviously annoyed by your oversharing. 

“To be honest, they are hideous. I loathe them. Not my taste,” you hugged him closer and stressed each word in an attempt to shift the topic. You did your best to lift his mood again by playing with the buttons on his shirt. “Since you're my boyfriend, I just like you the way you are. I take it that my wings are enough for the two of us.”

He gave you a quick kiss on the nose and said, “That's my girl,” which stunned you. It was dirty things you needed, not Halloween stuff. You sighed with anticipation as your mind was flooded with filthy images, and you continued to fiddle with the buttons of Dean's shirt, hoping he wouldn't be decorating pumpkins any longer. 

Dean remarked, “Just because you're being a nice angel,” and he briefly kissed you on the lips. “Now close your eyes.”

“Why?”

Dean said, “Just close them,” and waited for you to obey him. You closed your eyes eagerly while your mind raced with dirty ideas, wanting Dean to take action soon.

He continued to tell you not to open your eyes as you heard him go one step further. After a while, you became a bit upset and raised your voice, vowing not to. It was like he was trying to get under your skin on purpose.

You were about to get angry when you heard Dean was returning. You couldn't help but feel excited. Your body was prepared for everything.

Dean said, “All right, you can open your eyes now.”

You were perplexed to see two artificial little wings on his hands, but you didn't want to ruin his joy. Asking, “What's that?” you gently touched the white feather on it. 

“I assumed we could go to a Halloween party together. It must be fun and interesting for you to cosplay as an angel. See those plumes.” With excitement, Dean gave an explanation. 

You joyfully grabbed the wings from him and examined the feather on it on your own since he appeared to be thrilled. You didn't want to offend Dean, even if the wings were all fake and your wings were more beautiful than those small ones. After all, it was a gift, and he couldn't create real ones for you. He was extremely considerate, in fact. 

With a wide smile on your face and your pulse pounding with delight at the thought that he had truly planned to take you to a party and even bought you something, you gave him a firm embrace and left him breathless with a long kiss. 

“It's really beautiful. Thank you,” you said, giving him a timid grin that made you happy to see as he exhaled deeply in relief. 

“Don't mention it, babe.” 

You sat on the couch and played with the feather. Dean followed you. You continued to grasp his lovely present as he drew you closer into his arms and placed your head on his chest. You could see he was proud of himself, even if he didn't say it, since he knew he thought well of gifting such a thing. 

You lifted your head to see his response and said, “But don't you think my wings are prettier?” To avoid his becoming used to it, you had just once displayed yours. It was something he had to earn. Well, that was a lie. If he wanted to see it, you would show them straight immediately.

“Yours are wonderful, of course. They're larger,” said Dean. He was aware that your wings were far greater than the ones he had given you.

With pride and happiness in your heart, you gently placed the wings on the coach before turning to face Dean. “And?”

Dean gave you a wide grin as he licked his lips and said, “I didn't know angels had a praise kink,” as you swiftly got on top of him.

“And?” you asked. When he complimented you on your wings and everything else, you absolutely loved it. 

Dean put his arms around your abdomen and rolled his eyes, trapping you in his grasp. You could break free at any time, but you enjoyed his behavior when it was this way: passionate and possessive. 

He then added, “And,” which made you gasp in anticipation. Dean's lips curled as you slightly moved on his lap. His body underneath you seemed prepared for whatever it was you had planned to offer him. 

He was mostly dominating when you had sex, but you knew he was satisfied when you were in control, above him, and at your mercy. It was beyond words to watch him enjoy himself beneath you and know that it was you who was making him feel that way. Dean signaled for you to move by slipping his hands to your hips. You felt him becoming hard under you too, as he peered through your top at your stiffened nipples. You had been waiting for this time since the morning, and at last you were going to do something better.

You urged, “Come on, tell me,” as you began to rub yourself his cock. You could still feel his hardness beneath you, but it would be nicer if he wasn't wearing his sweatpants. Dean reached to put his hands on your tits, but you swiftly stopped him and put them back on your hips. 

He was obviously disappointed not to touch you because he needed it, as seen by his clenched jaw. But he needed a lesson. 

When your hips on his cock began to move quickly, he groaned, “I'm at a loss for words.” He smiled and pulled you by your back to his body so your nipples touched his chest. “If you come closer a little...” This time, you didn't resist him. 

“Like this?” you inquired, abruptly stopping on top of him to make him a little go crazy.

Dean awaited your next move. You dropped your top and exposed your tits to his sight just as he was ready to urge you for more. He always found joy in looking at you with that kind of intensity, as though he wanted to touch every inch of your body. He obviously wanted to. Repositioning your hands on his shoulders, you lifted his chin and met his eyes. He was aching under you, but you'd take what you wanted as well.

“Your wings are,” Dean said playfully. “Softer, nicer, more beautiful, perfect, lovely.” He would have laughed at you, seeing how happy you become with every compliment, if he weren't suffering under you. 

His attractive face was seized by your hands on his chest, and you gave him a frantic kiss. When you grabbed his hands and indicated for him to gently stroke your back, where your wings ought to be, Dean was smling on your lips. You became wetter on him the more he stroked your spine. You couldn't stop groaning into his lips because your back and spine were arching with such ecstasy. When Dean began pressing his fingers there, his smile vanished, seeing you getting pleasure.

Just by stroking your back, he was going to ruin you. 

You were ready to experience pleasure together when you made the decision to reveal your wings to him again because it was Halloween. You paused to let him catch his breath. “You're a very generous angel today, aren't you?” he said after really feeling your wings between both of his hands. Dean groaned as he took a little back to better see your gigantic wings. 

You said, “Just because you're generous too,” and allowed him to touch you because he seemed to like it. 

“Is there anything you want me not to do?” Since you weren't displaying your wings very much and you let Dean touch you on a regular basis, he didn't know what exactly to do. Since your relationship was new, this was your chance to move forward. You trusted him with your life. Your spine tingled with excitement as you realized that both of your bodies were covered with your wings, and he was in awe. 

With joy, you closed your eyes as his fingertips found every inch on your wings. This is something you ought to have allowed him to do from the very beginning. You leant back in pleasure and let out a loud moan as soon as he touched a sensitive spot. Without knowing if he hurt you or not, Dean's hands stopped right away. 

“Don't stop!” Pushing him to continue, you took his hand and placed it in the same location. “Press your fingers a little harder.”

“You're a horny angel, aren't you?” Dean moaned as you began to roll your hips on his hard cock, skillfully caressing the sensitive area, as if he knew just what to do. Each move you made had your tits bouncing. He needed to take care of your wings before he could touch and lick your tits, as you could sense, or else you would lose your mind soon.

“Just for you,” you said with approval as you met his green eyes directly. Your cheeks were flushed with delight. “More.”

"Damn right. Good girl,” he praised once more, making your heart melt with bliss and desire. “Come on, you're almost there.”

Dean encouraged you to move on him quicker by applying more pressure on your hips on his cock with your hips as your moans became louder. He didn't close his eyes while you were experiencing such incredible pleasure that your wings were moving wildly. It was getting hotter by the way he was staring at you, almost as if he were worshipping you. You wanted him to love you as much as you loved him, to cherish and adore you. 

You screamed out “Dean!” as your orgasm hit powerfully. Your spine arched with the intensity of the moment, your legs and even your wings trembling wildly. You knew your underwear had been ruined and your walls were squeezing around nothingness. 

He began to spill into his boxers with a muffled sigh when  your climax triggered his as well. It was both fascinating and existing to see him ruin his sweatpants with his seed.

When you both came to your senses, Dean kissed your forehead, stroked your wings tenderly, and drew you even nearer. You asked, “What now?” as Dean adjusted your top.

As he was still gasping for air, Dean grinned at you since you were so enthusiastic and prepared to go all the way. He didn't move, although he felt somewhat hot under your wings. 

He moved your body a bit closer to him and stated, “I need to take a shower, obviously.” He felt like a teenager knowing he just came in his boxers, but it was satisfying. 

“Do angels wash their wings?” abruptly asked Dean. 

His silly question made you laugh so hard you couldn't stop. You waited for his response after answering, “If you want to know the answer, we can shower together.” Under the water, you could feel each other far more strongly and deeply. 

Dean licked his lips and grinned at you, saying, “Well, I can't wait to find out the answer then. Just for scientfic reasons.”

It's a silly little one-shot, but let me know what you think please. Hehehe. You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

[lowkeyerror]

I Had To Come Back

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Notes: 1st person, Agnes, a bit of angst, happy ending, part 2 to I Can't Do This Anymore

Summary: After you left Agatha in the middle of her fight with Wanda, you thought you'd be able to move on with your life. However, it was a foolish thought considering how deeply you felt for Agatha. So eventually you find yourself back in Westview looking for her.

An: Been a long time since I've written in 1st person, but wanted to keep it cohesive with part 1. I had to follow up after getting a comment from @dandelions4us only 3 years later but hope you enjoy part 2.

Part 1 | Masterlist

I didn’t think moving on would be simple, but I hoped it would be possible. However, without Agatha by my side life had become incredibly dull. It wasn’t a lack of excitement, but a lack of someone to share it with. After all those centuries together, I didn’t want to share it with anyone except her.

When I left her that day, I knew it had to be done. I did everything for her, but I would never be enough. I never wanted to leave, but a person can only come in second place for so long. Second fiddle to a hunger that would never be satiated.

I thought eventually I’d miss her less. That I would be able to move on from what we had, but that was entirely foolish. A woman as enigmatic as Agatha would always leave a mark on my soul.

I fought the feeling for years, unwilling to give in without trying, but fuck, I missed her. I saw her in everything I did. I could hear her calling to me, reaching for me. It was like she put a spell on me, which she very well could’ve.

I knew the truth, the feeling was all mine, no magic necessary. I still loved her, I needed to find her. I don’t know if she’d take me back, if she could forgive me for leaving, but I just needed to see her.

It was surprise to find her still in Westview. The town looked the same from the outside, but I could sense a difference from the people within. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked through the town.

I hated the way I felt their eyes linger on me. An outsider, or maybe they recognized me, either way it made me uncomfortable.

Going up to the house I used to live in was more challenging than I thought it would be. As I walked towards the house, I felt my heart rate picking up.

Maybe if I kept walking the block she'd eventually make an appearance. I didn't have to knock, I wouldn't have to face her. I just needed to know that she was ok, that would satisfy whatever I was feeling. At least that's what I started telling myself.

“Are you here for her?”

I whipped around at the sound of a voice. It was Herb. It was strange seeing him outside of the illusion Wanda casted, it was safe to assume his name wasn’t even Herb.

“I’m just visiting it won’t be long. Not trying to cause any trouble,” I leveled with him.

“Good luck, she’s been a bit off of her rocker since the whole Wanda thing,” he mentions.

That set off some alarms in my mind, “How so?”

“Sharon said Agnes is really into rom-coms this week. It changes pretty often, but I think rom-coms will be better than last week’s war movie theme.”

I tilt my head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say she created an… immersive experience for herself.”

I still don’t quite get what he means, but the only way to find out is if I check for myself. With a few small words of self-encouragement and a few deep breaths, I head over to the house.

I wait on the porch after ringing the doorbell. It doesn’t take long before the door opens. Agatha opens the door, eyes wide as they land on me.

“It’s you,” she whispers to herself.

“It is,” I say shuffling in my spot.

“Why are you here? You think after all this time I’d let you just waltz back into my life? You left me,” she doesn’t make eye contact with me.

My stare hits the ground, “Please, can we just talk. I know I left, but can you really blame me. I didn’t know if you’d ever care about me like I cared about you.”

She ushers me into the house. Her hands on my wrist cold like they usually were. I let her pull me into the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you’re back here after all these years. What brings you to town?”

My eyebrows crease, “I’m only here for you Ags.”

She shakes her head and laughs about, “You’re silly, be honest why come home now?”

I’m even more confused, “Home?”

She pushes your shoulder lightly, “Yes, goofball, home. Westview, the town we grew up in together.”

Worry begins to fill my body, as pieces begin to form together in my mind, “Ag- Agnes?”

“Yes, hun?”

I can’t help, but reach out and grab her face in my hands.

“Y/n what are you-”

I sush her as I look into her eyes. I search for Agatha behind her eyes, and begin to panic when I can’t see her. I can’t help as tears begin to fall.

“What did she do?”

I can tell Agnes is confused, but she uses one of her hands to hold mine in place.

“What’s wrong doll?”

Instantly I lose my last bit of composure, “I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Forgive me, my love… if I would’ve- I shouldn’t have left, I’m sorry.”

Agnes wraps her arms around me. It’s familiar, but different. She holds me up, and swipes at my tears.

“I have you,” she rubs soothing circles on my back but it only makes me cry harder.

My mind is racing. How was I going to fix this? Magic done by the Scarlet Witch herself. If anything I’d need Agatha to guide me more now than ever. Yet the woman was out of my reach. I hoped she was somewhere buried underneath Agnes, but I had no way of knowing.

I pull away to look at her, “I love you.”

A part of her melts away, “You’re a mess, you don’t mean that.”

“I do Ag-Agnes, I mean it more than you can fathom. I love you more than anything and leaving you… it was my greatest mistake. I’ll never forgive myself for it. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but allow me to make it up to you.”

Agnes rests her forehead against mine. My breath hitches as she looks into my eyes. Her breathing slows and she searches my features. It feels like an eternity passes, but eventually she puts her lips against mine.

I freeze and she almost breaks the kiss, but my arms encircle her. I keep her close allowing myself to indulge in this moment, I don’t deserve.

“I’m just happy you came back,” she speaks.

It almost sounds like Agatha, but you know better. It breaks your heart, but you’re devout. You’re going to fix this, you’re going to bring her back.

Agnes didn't have any push back when I asked to stay with her. She let me in and I got a glimpse into what the neighbors were saying about her… intense interests. I found a way to mitigate them, keeping her somewhere in the nosy neighbor medium.

I didn’t sleep much, spending most of my time in Agatha’s hidden space in the house. There were traces of her everywhere, I could practically feel her. The Darkhold was nowhere to be found, but I did come across Agatha’s old notebooks. They were filled with knowledge themselves.

I was hoping to find anything about breaking the spell she was under. She had books filled with her messy handwriting, nearly impossible for anyone else to decipher. It was different for me, I had been with her when she filled them, I could recall sitting watching her write, sometimes for hours at a time. She was always so dedicated to the craft.

It took a little over 7 months, before I found something useful; an incantation. It seemed too easy, like there should’ve been a catch to it. Yet it was my only source of chance.

“Agnes, I want to try something with you. It’s a little unconventional, but I need you to trust me,” I say, hoping she would agree.

She places a kiss on my cheek, “We’re past all the dramatics hun, you know I trust you.”

I nod, “Ok, you’re going to sit here, and I’m going to say some Latin. That's it.”

“Sound easy enough, sweetheart."

I begin to say the incantation while looking into Agnes’s eyes. I can see her shifting in her seat slightly uncomfortable. I can’t tell if the walls of the house are shaking or if it just feels that way.

“Stop,” she mumbled under her breath, but I don’t.

I keep going, and eventually she stands. She starts peeling off her clothes and I almost advert my eyes, until I see her changing. The different versions of her begin to peel back like layers.

When it’s over she’s naked in the living room. I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I take a knee, unable to fully stand. It feels like all my power has been removed from my body.

“Agatha,” I call out to her, breathlessly. Though it takes all my effort, I lift my head.

“So, you came crawling back.”

It was her, the real her. I could tell by the harsh tone of her voice.

“Welcome back sweetheart,” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“How long has it been?”

I attempt to stand, but end up falling over, “Fuck.”

Agatha walks over, picking me up and easily placing me on the couch, “Now answer my question.”

“I came about 7 months ago. It’s been nearly 3 years since I left,” I look at her.

It’s surreal, seeing Agatha and not Agnes.

“3 years, I’ve been trapped for 3 years,” she says to herself in disbelief.

“Why'd you come back?”

She meets my eyes and refuse to look away, “For you, Agatha. When I found you, or should I say when I found Agnes, I freaked out. The Darkhold is gone, I did my best. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t apologize. You did the right thing, I mean what good would it me if we were both trapped.”

“What if I didn’t come back?”

Agatha sighs, “Then I would’ve gotten what I deserved.”

I grab her hand, “No one deserves anything like that.”

She snatches her hand out of mine, “Oh please, I bet you enjoyed the time with Agnes.”

I shake my head at her jealousy. It’s a testing move, but I hook my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me, “Agnes was sweet, but she is not the woman I love.”

“The woman you left,” Agatha’s vulnerability shines through.

“The woman I keep coming back to, no matter how much it might hurt me,” I remind her tentatively.

“You deserve more,” she sighs closing her eyes.

I lean in, “I just want you.”

I’m the one who presses my lips to her’s. She doesn’t deny me, caving into her desires. I’m putting everything that I have to give into this kiss. The passion is driving me and Agatha is meeting me every step of the way.

It’s not until my hand grazes against her bare stomach that we both pause, realizing she’s still naked.

“I want you too, more than all of this,” Agatha stares deeply into my eyes.

“You don’t have to choose, it was foolish of me to ask.”

Now it’s Agatha grabbing your hands, “It wasn't, it was reasonable. I had my priorities out of order, you are the most important thing in my life and I'm not willing to lose you again. I love you.”

I kiss the back of her hand, “I love you too.”

The moment we shared was sweet, but it soon was filled with defeat as I noticed my body still felt weak. I could tell something was wrong, I tried to use my magic, but nothing happened.

Agatha uses her powers to dress and they work just fine, yet I could see a remorseful look take over her features.

“Y/n, I think…”

I don’t care to hear the rest, “It’s alright, they always suited you better than me anyway.”

Agatha shakes her, “We can find a way, I can give them back-”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Aggie. I’m fine, it’ll take a little getting used to, but it’s not going to kill me,” I stand with much effort.

I could tell by the look in her eye, that she didn’t believe me, “I stole your powers.”

I roll my eyes, “I gave them to you, and I’d do it again, as long as you’re here with me, I couldn’t care less.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod, “Yes, I’m sure. Now let’s get out of this town, it’s beyond dreadful.”

She takes my hand in hers a mischievous smile on her face, “Anywhere with you, my dear.”

[mxrcurysb1tch]

Rating my astrology placements (and yours... maybe)

Inspired by @abyssalfaith

Cancer venus- 8/10 I feel like I feel this one quite strongly. I fall in love (or the idea of it lol) quite quickly and I can really romanticise people. I can't always tell if I am in love with someone or just really admire them platonically, which is a bit confusing ngl. I can never have a crush on more than one person at once. I have so much empathy and love for my friends and I'd genuinely do anything for them. I think there is so much beauty in longing and just emotions in general. ALSO I am obsessed with the friends to lovers trope.

Gemini rising- 9/10 Honestly if it wasn't for this placement I'd be the biggest freaking recluse ever. I literally have to give my opinion/share my experiences on everything especially online lol. I find socialising very exciting. My mind is all over the place and I have so many conflicting thoughts at once. Very adaptable, good at blending in with social situations. Having a broad knowledge of a lot of things is helpful too but sometimes I struggle when it gets too specific. I luuuurve being percieved as witty and funny. Sometimes I find it difficult to calm down or to focus on one thing. ALWAYS losing, dropping, forgetting stuff. INDECISIVE AF and childish in a good way.

4h Stellium- (sun, mars, mercury, jupiter) 6/10 Honestly have a love/hate thing with this one. I have such a weird relationship w/ my family, especially extended family. I love my home and I feel deeply connected to it, especially that I've lived in the same house all my life. My home is a sanctury to me and I want it to be as cozy as possible. Being an only child, it has always been my dream to grow up and have a fairly big family, 3-4 kids.

Capricorn moon- 7/10 Sometimes I wish I was more able to be soft. I am very nurturing but in my own way. So loyal and steady and reliable and strong but people don't always appreciate these things. Emotional nurturance growing up was almost non existent. Very sensitive underneath. This placement is kind of like an armour. I have to say though, although I am very dedicated to my work and use it to avoid my feelings, I have never met a capricorn moon that wants a corporate job and is the stereotypical 'workaholic'. We're actually susceptible to getting burnt out pretty easily. Very cautious even when I was a kid, hate taking risks. The pessimistic thing is absolutely true though, we're just good at hiding it.

2h venus and saturn- 8/10 I have never really had to worry about money which is great. Tricky relationship w/ food for most of my life but I really do love it and use it as a comfort.

8h moon- 5/10 This is a placement that everyone knows sucks. And yeah it kinda does especially as a child. Financial and physical support, big inheritance from family but basically no emotional support at all (+ capricorn so you can imagine). Guilt and other very heavy emotions imposed by family. BUT I do feel like this is a very baddass placement. I can feel the energy of people and places without even having the words to describe it. I have become very good at knowing who is good for me and who is not. I can always see things coming ages before it happens. Doesn't mean I listen to it though LOL so I am always disappointed but never surprised.

Leo mercury (retrograde) 6/10 Oh man. Having mercury retrograde is interesting. Leo mercuries are funny and bright and communicate with 'flare' I feel like. And while I do this to a certain extent, it can get a bit convoluted along the way. I am a pretty entertaining storyteller, I talk fast, I am pretty dramatic (outwardly at least) and I love making people laugh and love talking. I dislike small talk, I just kind of find it boring and pointless and kind of uncomfortable at times but I can do it fairly well, its not like I don't know how to, I would just prefer not to. (I feel like being a gemini rising kind of counteracts some of the issues I have with mercury being rx in my chart). Im very introspective but I think about myself way too much, too much internal jumbled dialogue, like pls just SHUT UP. Growing up I LOVED being on stage and I would still probably be doing it had life not taken me down a different path.

[bestlilithian]

Home is the first grave.

[ Moon-Pluto, Pluto in 4th house culture ]

tw for various mentions of abuse and death as well as mental problems, sh and su!cide, also needles (dont ask)

- may have experienced a lot of death in thr family or in the close neighborhood

- feel more connected to your dead relatives than your alive ones

- there mightve been a death in your family before you were born

- feeling peacful in graveyards

- may have fantasized about death/su!cide, might percieve death as something that brings peace (hence the fantasies, because really all you ever wanted was peace)

- wanting peace but knowing you cannot have it because of your nature; feeling like theres just something in your blood in your soul that is uncontrollable and overwhelming

- your household was always a house , never a home

- being raised by very old people, enjoying the presence of much older wiser people (like, literal elders not hot teachers 💀)

- enduring literal psychological warfare in your home (usual your mother waged war on you as soon as you were old enough to form a coherent critical thought)

- "I hate you, dont leave me" (might be the attitude of your mother towards you, or yours towards others you love)

- Your mother always knew when you were lying or hiding something. Especially if she had a scorpio moon or moon/pluto aspects herself. You grew up extremely fearful of her.

- moon pluto culture is hearing your mother talk lovingly about her own fucked up mother, she never accepted the severity of her own abuse, until of course she needs to use it in an argument against you "Im a great mother, my mother was so much worse"(basically Im good because I abuse you differently than I was abused 😍 same shit different package)

- not liking motherly women or women who try to be mother figures to you, feeling uncomofortable around them; youre uncomfortable with how much you crave motherly love and people who can provide you that become threats because of the power they could have over you if you opened up

- being betrayed by the women in your life, especially those who were much older and supposed to take care of you (teachers, tutors, family members, therapists, babysitters..)

- toxic female friends 😁🔫 bonus : really close but toxic female friendships in youth that feel like death when you end them even though you know it was necessary

- feeling pain so deeply you think you will drop dead or have a heart attack. (When I was little and depressed I wrote in a diary of mine "My body will kill me before I get to")

more on this : when you start crying because of immense emotional pain and suddenly your heart is burning and beating too fast and youre getting light headed and throwing up , and suddenly youre not crying because of the pain, youre crying because youre afraid youre about to have a heart attack and die

- fearing that your mother will k word herself or you if you try to leave her (harsh aspects mostly)

- learning what emotional violence is very early, how to wield it and defend against it

- turning your emotions off completely for a while and then having a nervous breakdown when it all rushes back

- reading up on psychology, psychiatry and works of psychotherapists so you can heal and never become your mother

- wanting to put a bullet in your head when you notice yourself thinking or behaving like your mother

- going home after you spent time somewhere where you felt good and safe is extremely dreadful

- your mother doesnt see you as a human being (harsh aspects especially), and may take you a while to figure this out

- extremely controlling behavior from your mother or other caretakers (for example my mother threatened to send people to stalk me when I moved to a diff city, to 'make sure Im not doing something bad')

- deeply grieving the loss of your childhood and your inner child

- almost choking while crying or passing out

- feeling like youre a horrible person and dont deserve your family [because youre in deep denial and are seeing the flaws of your family as your own and denying your own trauma]

- learning about sex early on, perhaps early sexual obsession but not like promiscuity more like craving for deep intimacy (also you were probably deeply ashamed of it)

- not telling your family (esp mother) anything because they will ruin it for you

- being accused of being a psychopath, uncaring, selfish for "not loving your family enough"

- not knowing how to feel about the members of your family that played a more passive role in your life because they didnt do anything wrong but they didnt do anything right either; surely they knew , why didnt they stop it? why didnt they save you? (Im talking about adults obviously)

- your parents mightve been much older when you were born, you might have siblings much older than you

- doing anything to avoid your intense emotions and then when you break down and feel everything you realize how freeing it is and how comfortable you actually are with the intensity

- gutteral reactions to songs you deeply relate to (I hear 10 seconds of 'Slipping through my fingers' and I am dead on the floor)

- being afraid of your mother or just of your family in general

- you could probably kill someone with your bare hands if you were angry and hurt enough

- scary as fuck when you actually show your anger

- if you cry in the midst of a fight (verbal or physical) ... someone tell that person to make peace w God . cause thats you crying because of what youre about to do, because thats you loosing the last crumb of humanity you had for them and that can only end one way.

- you would probably kill for your loved ones

- your friends feel like you would help them hide a body (and you probably would)

- recognizing people by footsteps and breathing patterns (especially family members)

- deep deep eyes, people can see war and death them, and they feel like you see their pain too (because you do)

- reading people easily

- enjoying? cruelty (to yourself or others), like getting impulses to do something that would cause you or someone else that ugly feeling of facing cruelty

- finding comfort in the cold and the dark

- insane nightmares since youth, growing to be used to them

- its very hard to shock you

- you know when someones lying

- you might dread certain types of pain yet feel pleasure from them (personally I hate having my blood taken for a test but then I end up immensely enjoying the feeling of a needle pricking my skin and going deep into my vein)

- feeling the need to "kill" some your habits; most likely to drop things cold turkey and be extremely strict in breaking bad habits

- might enjoy really dark, emotionally and morally complex media

- immediately recognizing other moon pluto people and trauma bonding

- extremely good pain endurance. not necessarily tolerance , but endurance. you feel the pain and do it anyway.

- might not react to physical pain at all from a young age

- fantasies about drowning or slipping away peacfully

- either loving deep waters or hating them

- randomly breaking down in the middle of the day because of some pain you buried 5 years ago

- might self harm a lot because of your complex relationship w pain, it genuinely helps sometimes

- home feels like literal prison

- seeing the value in suffering, you might reject the idea that suffering is bad and should be avoided and prevented at all costs

- you might become religious as you mature (but usually in your own way, not necessarily according to tradition)

- forced to eat or denied food in your home, this mightve fucked up your relationship with food

And lastly, I need you to engrave this in yourself :

Wrong love is not love.

[balkanradfem]

I wanna tell you a story, and I'm not sure if I should publish this; it's embarrassing, it's deeply unflattering, it's naive and horrifying, there's not one bit of it that is positive, but I thought about it today and thought, 'that was messed up', so you know. Temptation to expose my life publicly is stronger than the shame you will inflict on me.

So this happened way back when I was in college, and I cannot overstate how isolated and friendless I was; I lived in a dorm, I had no friends, my roommate was away with her friend group, I was depressed, I had very little social interaction. I didn't even know I was a lesbian. I had taken up running though!

In the city there was a big long riverbank where people would often run, and I liked running there, it was big and grassy and other people would run too, so I felt like I was a part of something. I had a good time! Until, one day, a m*n caught up with me, and started running alongside me.

Now I know you all are smart, and you are thinking, red flag, red flag, but I was not smart. I was 20 and had zero feminist influence in my life, all I was taught was to be extremely polite or it was my fault if I get murdered, so when he started talking to me, I was as nice and polite as possible. He asked how old I was, and was surprised to hear '20', he thought I looked younger. He asked if he could run with me, I said okay, because you know, I was desperately lonely, I thought it was not awful if I was running with another person. He chatted with me, and then asked me for my phone number, which again, I very dumbly gave to him. He, to my absolute horror, memorized it instantly, and recited it back to me several times. He called me a few minutes later to check if it was real. My phone rang. It was real.

He asked if we could run together again, and I again, thought the only polite thing to say was 'yes', so I accepted, and so he called me up to run together few days later. I appeared, feeling much more self-conscious than usual, and this is where things started to go from bad to worse. He insisted we 'stretch first', and instructed me on how to do it, and while this was happening, he found it appropriate to touch me, hug me, put his hands on my arms and shoulder. I would flinch and pull away every time, which he would ignore. I felt uncomfortable and decided to stretch far away from him, but he would just follow me and get closer.

After running for half an hour, I was too tired, so we walked, and he started talking to me about his work and his previous relationship. His work was in finances, and it was so boring to listen to, I could not keep track. I dozed off thinking how, despite not having any human interaction in a long time, this was the most bored I ever was. Then he started talking about a woman he used to be with, calling her a gold-digger, and a w-slur. I hated that. I could tell he was trying to 'compare us' and subtly tell me that he thinks I'm different, because I'm a humble little innocent girl who would never want his money, but all I could think of was 'he was supposedly in love with her, but now he can call her names like that? It's only a matter of time before he decides I'm worthless too.' I was naive, but I wasn't taking women-hatred lightly.

I could see him staring at me when I ran and walked, his eyes lingered on places that made me feel uncomfortable. I had originally thought he wanted to be friends, because he was so much older than me it was ridiculous to even imagine he'd want something romantic with me, but seeing how he touched me, and how he was staring me down, I figured there was something weird going on.

We are again at a point where you'd be free to judge me, and okay, but listen; the times were different, it was 2010, the discourse was not what it is now. And I was scared. Okay. So. I knew I felt threatened by the idea that this m*n would maybe try something sexual with me, and I wanted to make sure to cut that idea short. So when he was saying suggestive stuff, I said 'hey you should know I'm asexual.' (I didn't exactly believe this, I just felt it was the only safe way to let him know I'm not interested. The gentlest rejection!) And he said 'no you're not'. To which I was a little shocked. And he went with a conspiratory tone 'you don't know how those people are, they hate sex'. And I'm like 'Yes, I do too!' and he just decided to not accept this. He decided I didn't know what I was saying, and didn't know myself enough to decide such a thing.

Next time we went running, he actually groped me.

When I got home, I realized I was terrified of him. I didn't want to come close to him again. But the female socialization of being polite, giving people whatever pleases them, never disappointing anyone or failing to be of use to them, was suffocating me. I couldn't pinpoint just what this m*n has done to wrong me, all I knew is that I felt unsafe, and I would be trembling in anxiety thinking about seeing him ever again. I wished I had anyone to tell about this. I was so alone that nobody ever knew this was happening to me.

I was wrecking my brain for several days, lost about what to do about this, before finally figuring it out. I found a way around the pressure to be accommodating. I could tell this person was looking at me sexually, and obviously I didn't want to do anything like that, so if I kept meeting him, it was the equivalent of 'leading him on', which they hated, and it was more polite to be upfront! And if I could pinpoint something actually wrong he has done (my poor brain could not yet conceptualize that my body was in fact, violated) then it was okay for me to cut ties.

Okay so this is where the stupidity continues; I didn't think it was polite to end something over a text message. I went to do it in person. I know. I know you're yelling right now. I'm sorry! I didn't know any better!

So he called me, and I appeared in my non-running shoes, which he immediately criticized. I explained then, that I came to say goodbye. I said he was looking at me weird (which he denied) and that I felt uncomfortable (which he felt I had no right to). He tried to convince me that it's good to keep exercising, and I mentioned I actually did other forms of exercise, for instance I had a big bag I liked to punch, and I was really good at it. (This was my way of saying, hey I know I look small but I can fight, I can punch. I did actually exercise with a punching bag too). He absolutely hated that. He told me I should not be doing that, that women should not be punching bags, it was a horrible idea. And that's where I clocked him. I understood, from that reaction, that he hated the idea of me being physically strong, and being able to fight back if he attacks me. Once I had that clear in my head, it was easier to cut ties. I told him I didn't want to run with him anymore, and to please not call me again. He was extremely displeased and aggravated, but, we were in public, there wasn't much he could do. I made sure he wasn't following me home. I came back shivering, in disbelief that I managed to get myself out of that.

So yeah, nothing else happened! It was just an extremely uncomfortable and scary experience I had, a week and a half that I spent terrified of a male that I gave my own number to, not understanding he was 'not just wanting to be friends'. Not understanding that 'you're 20? You look younger' from a 30-40yo male was already a red flag, that he approached me because he thought I was a child. Looking back it is a miracle that I managed to get out of that on my own, without ever consulting another person. I am sobbing at the fact that I thought 'oh sure this creepy old male wants to befriend me' and 'I should go and reject him in person' my goodness.

But this is how we're taught to act, isn't it? If we, as young women, try to look at m*n as predators, we get told off and that we're oppressing them and causing injustice to them and hurting their feelings! So I couldn't have had any bad thoughts about him or I was a sexist, unjust, awful and oppressive b-slur. I couldn't have told him no or I was unfair for not giving him a chance! Maybe I should have let him do whatever and try to just enjoy it – that's how I've been taught to give up my own safety and boundaries, for all my life.

So don't judge me too harshly okay? I did get away from him, and from multiple consecutive creeps. And I never, ever gave a male my number again. If socialization taught me nothing, this experience did. Can you imagine if I consulted someone though, and they told me I was being too harsh on him, since he did nothing wrong, and that I should have tried to make him happy instead? Because it's very likely that would have happened. I think in a way, my loneliness and lack of outside influence protected me too.

[yandere-romanticaa]

More yandere mortician? I miss our pookie

𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐞.

yandere! mortician oc! x fem! reader.

masterlist.

Despite it being the start of the warm month of May, this day was anything but.

Soft rain tapped against the window, giving the grey office a slight hint of a cozier ambience. Viktor was working and you had made the decision to stick around in his office, at least until the horrible weather had subsided.

As if on cue, a strong ray of thunder roared loudly in the sky, telling you everything that you needed to know - you were stuck here, possibly for the entire evening.

No matter. Despite his demeanor, Viktor was a decent source of entertainment.

And just like that you made your way down the metallic stairs, a slight pep in your step as you pondered on the various ideas on how to mess with your new friend. He once confessed on accident that he didn't mind your endless ramblings.

Now it was time to see just how true that statement was.

You heard him first before you saw him. Viktor liked to hum this one tune you never could recognize but judging from the pacing, it was most likely some old lullaby. He would hum it whenever he was lost deep in his head, which was the exact case right at this moment.

Slowing down your pace, you hid behind a wooden cabinet, silently watching Viktor. Despite his back being turned towards you, the scalpel in his hand still glimmered brightly underneath the dim office light. Soft strands of his jet black hair were loose in his messy low ponytail, which would typically make you swoon if the situation were any different.

You forgot just how awful the smell was down here. The stench of chemicals and death made you want to gag, but doing so would expose your presence. Although, you should have registered his sudden silence before that thought came to you.

"I know you're behind me." said Viktor. Even with that flat tone he had used, you could just tell that he had a proud little smirk on his face.

He raised his scalpel high in the air in a dramatic fashion, his own way of telling you to come to him.

"You're more than welcome to join me..." he spoke as he quickly but skillfully lowered the metallic tool, slicing deeply into the flesh of the now rotting corpse which lay on his table.

"... if you can stomach this."

Ugh. Not a lot of people could stomach such a sight but you felt brave at that moment. After composing all of the possible bravado you had in you, the walk towards Viktor did not feel as nauseating as you thought it would. But the moment you caught a glimpse of the fleshless face of the dead man before you, the instinct to turn your head was too much to handle.

Viktor couldn't help but to chuckle, the bastard.

Not knowing how to approach him with any topic of conversation, you asked him the first thing which came to mind:

"I often hear you sing that song to yourself when you work. What's it about?"

Viktor abruptly stopped with his slicing, his body going rigid. An uncomfortable silence fell upon the entire room, causing you to tense up. Before you could even think to say something, Viktor spoke up:

"It's an old song my mother used to sing to me when I was very young."

He continued with his work seemingly without a care, never once even bothering to glance in your direction. The awful squelching of the dead flesh made your blood pump wildly as Viktor continued to speak normally.

"I never realized just how morbid the song was until very recently." he said, slicing away at the dead man's cheekbone. You didn't even need to ask him about what he was talking about as Viktor was something of a mind reader (or so you liked to call him).

"... The song is about a little rabbit which got lost in a big forest."

Another piece of flesh gets discarded. Still, he doesn't look at you.

"It searches for food and water wherever it possibly can, the poor thing."

Out of the corner of your eye, your spot droplets of crimson blood on the floor, taunting you for coming down here. The smell is too powerful, too overbearing. Even so, Viktor continues to elaborate.

"Unfortunately, the rabbit doesn't survive the winter. It's a sad song, don't you agree?"

His words fell on deaf ears as your gaze traveled up and down the body, the skilled cuts and injections leaving you gasping for air. A warm hand made its way to your shoulder, snapping you out of the morbid daze. Viktor's gaze was sharp, but sweet. He wasn't going to hurt you.

"You can always just go back upstairs, if you can't handle it."

Another clap of thunder rang loudly in the background. The already dimmed light felt as though it was going to give in any moment now, making you feel anxious.

... You thought that you had gotten used to this, the atmosphere, the smells.

What a horrible reminder of your weakness.

Without a word, you turned around and quickly rushed up the scary looking stairs, their squeaking boards giving you an ever growing sensation of being free from the smell.

Viktor turned back to the body he was working on. With a tut, he cleaned his trusty scalpel as he gazed down at the bloody remains, his eyes sparkling with determination.

"It's a good thing I started with your face first." said the mortician.

"Otherwise, I fear she would have recognized you almost immediately."

And with that, Viktor set out to finish his horrific deed. He was not sure how much time he had left before you would start catching on to the mysterious disappearances around town but he thanked his lucky stars for all the extra time he could spend with you.

🥀 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince, @latolover, @samuraijack, @moyazami, @sunhareskies, @red-viewe, @kate03-27, @black-swan-blog27

If you wish to be tagged in future posts, feel free to say so!

Also, fun fact about the song Viktor was singing, it's not something I made up, it's an actual song my own mother often sang to me when I was a child.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 23 - Footjob]

Pairing: needy sub!Namjoon x  service Domme!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU

Kinks: foot massage with oil, using oil as lube, footjob, dirty talk, praise, loving degradation (my needy boy), he kneels for her, he wears glasses & a jumper do with this information what you want, he cums on her feet, cunnilingus, cuddly aftercare

Wordcount: 3.2k

a/n: so uhm i didn’t have a good day when i wrote this and i hope you guys can’t notice it fjsdafjsa anyway, why is sub!joon the hottest thing ever? i might need to take a walk tbfh

You didn’t have the best day. One of your co-workers is a jealous, passive aggressive woman and she more often than not pisses you off. Today was such a day. If you weren’t so civilised, you would call her the rudest names. But you are civilised and so you are left brooding in your own soup of annoyance.

Still boiling in it, you call out for your long-term partner as you take off your outdoor clothes.

“Baby, I’m home!”

“Living room!”

The sound of his voice already cheers you up a lot. You cannot wait to see him and tell him all about this annoying human. You leave your bag on the dresser in the hallways, washing your hands in the toilet sink as you pass it on your way to Namjoon.

Once finally cleaned of the day and the dirty outside, you hurry straight to your love. He has some jazz music playing quietly and scented candles burning.

Like on most days, Namjoon relaxes on the couch with a book in his hands. He looks at you over the brim of his glasses. His dark hair is styled into a handsome side-part today and he is wearing an ivory jumper with baggy jeans.

“Oh no, was she being annoying again?” he asks, lowering the book.

“Is it that obvious?” 

“To me it is.” He puts the book aside and opens his arms. “Tell me everything.”

“She is so fucking annoying, you have no idea. I could actually just punch her one day. Maybe I’ll do it…”, you begin ranting, settling into his arms. 

Namjoon listens to you intently, talking whenever necessary and reacting in shock or disgust whenever it is appropriate. By the time you are finally finished, you feel lighter in your chest. 

You rest your head on his strong chest, caressing his stomach gently. The music sways you into a state of tranquillity, his loving touches do the rest. His pulse is so relaxing to listen to, making you forget all about your day. He also smells so good.

“This just helped me so intensely, you have no idea”, you whisper into the silence.

“That’s good to hear”, he says, kissing the crown of your head. His voice is so, so, so nice to listen to when you have your ear against his chest. He is like your very own relaxation helper.

“And what about you? How was your day? I came home and started yapping”, you say, craning your neck to look at his face.

“That’s alright. I’m always here to listen. I had a good day. I drove my bike along Han River, went to an exhibition and then read. I’ve been lost in this book ever since I came home.”

You chuckle, “that sounds like a perfect day for you. I’m happy to hear that you had a good day.” 

He leans in to kiss your lips. You kiss him back with a smile. You end the affection with a soft rub to his cheek, gazing at him.

“My day’s good too now that I’m home. You’re so handsome, my darling.”

He smiles with his eyes, “you’re beautiful too, darling. I love this skirt on you.”

“Yeah? I kinda regret wearing it.”

“Why?”

“The shoes I wore to it were uncomfortable. My feet are aching like crazy. Urgh, I need to throw out these damned shoes. They’re always making my feet hurt.”

“Should I take care of it?” 

“What? Throwing out my shoes?”

“No. Giving you a massage.”

You grin, “is it gonna end in you begging me to step on you again?”

He laughs deeply, “in my defence, it’s not my fault that you have sexy feet. And that was one time.”

“Lies. You almost do this every time you massage my feet.”

“Yeah, well…” he doesn’t know what to say to that, looking caught in a lie.

You chuckle, “you’re lucky that you’re so cute. Otherwise I would curse at you for being a horndog.”

He lowers his eyes shyly, showing off his dimples in a big grin. You tilt his head back up, making him look at you. His eyes carry a certain sparkle in them, which they only get when he is with you. It is devoted and submissive.

“Yes, you can massage my feet. Including all the consequences. If you insinuated what I’m thinking you did.”

Namjoon gulps, licking his lips after. He nods his head, whispering his words. “Yeah, I was insinuating that.”

“Good, then get on with it”, you taunt, kissing his lips.

Namjoon kisses you back with a soft moan, sitting up for it to get closer to you. You allow him the heaven for a little while before breaking away. He whines softly, chasing you but you don’t allow him more. This is exactly what you wanted to happen. Give him a taste of paradise only to break away and make him hungry for more.

“Go on, be a good boy”, you order.

“Yes, ma’am”, he says and stumbles off the couch to get the oil. 

Today will not be the first time Namjoon massages your feet and it is definitely not the first time you make something sexy out of it. Your teasing was not just teasing, it was the truth. There were many occasions where you and he ended up having sex from a foot massage. Sometimes it ends in him wanting to be stepped on while you call him your needy slut. Sometimes it ends in him kissing your feet and promising his undivided devotion forever. And sometimes it ends in you jerking him off with your feet until he releases all over you.

It is so much fun to do and it is a fairly new kink you and he discovered.

The awesome thing about being long-term partners is that you are with each other when you change and rediscover yourselves. Namjoon didn’t always have a kink for feet, neither did you. It is a recent discovery you made together one night. Namjoon was kneeling in front of you, begging to eat your pussy, when you decided to trace his cock with your foot. It turned him on so much, which turned you on in return. You and he haven’t been the same ever since, including the kink in your sex life from time to time. 

You can’t wait to feel it tonight. And Namjoon seems to share your feelings as he almost stumbles over his own feet when he hurries back to you.

“Careful, don’t break something now.”

“I’m so excited, you have no idea.”

“I can’t tell at all”, you tease sarcastically.

He falls to his knees in front of you, fumbling to open the oil bottle.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Hm?”

You lift your right foot and place it against his chest. Namjoon inhales sharply, having to gulp as you dance your foot down his torso.

“I’m still wearing my stockings.”

“Oh? Right. Sorry.”

He takes them off carefully, folding them neatly before placing them to the side.

You put one of your feet on his thigh and the other you rub on his chest again.

“Now get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Namjoon finally opens the oil bottle, pouring some of it into the palm of his hands. He rubs them together, warming the oil this way. Once he seems happy with it, he meets your eyes.

You instantly understand, placing your foot into his hands. You relax back, lowering your lids halfway in a playful yet tranquil manner.  

Namjoon instantly gets to work, moving his skilled fingers along the aches and tensions in your foot. He wants to do a good job. It might end in sex later, but Namjoon will be damned if he didn’t make sure that your feet actually stopped aching. This is supposed to help you first and be something sexy second. 

“That’s amazing, Joonie. You’re doing such a good job”, you praise. 

“Is there a spot which hurts most?”

“Just the middle of my sole. It feels so sore.”

Namjoon glides his fingers to it and tries to relax it with eager circles and pressure.

“Yes, right there. Mhhhhm so good”, you gush, closing your eyes and rolling your head back. 

Namjoon shifts a little because of your reaction. The noises you make are so sexy to him. He knows not to act up yet however, working hard to relax your foot instead. 

Once he is done with your right foot, he repeats what he did on your left foot. He spreads the oil first, starting off on your ankles and making his way to your toes. He lingers on the spots which seem  sore and tense, helping you to complete relaxation like this. 

“Ma’am?”

“Are you finished?”

“Yes, I-”

“No, you’re not. Massage my calves as well”, you order and put your feet on his thighs, dangerously close to his cock. 

Namjoon inhales sharply, watching with a dizzy head how you smirk to yourself. He gulps. You are doing this on purpose. 

“Yes, ma'am”, he croaks. He covers his hands in more oil and begins the massage.

“There we go, such a good boy”, you purr, parting your legs. 

You make him dizzy. Everything about this is starting to turn him on. Your praise, your voice, your open legs and your feet on his thighs. Judging by the faint smirk still present on your lips, this stopped being innocent relaxation for you as well.

He is allowed to be turned on by it. Namjoon cannot control the voices anymore and so he lowers his head to your inner thigh to kiss you in devotion. 

“Huh?” you gasp and lift your head. A chuckle leaves you. “Now, what are you doing here?” 

Namjoon lifts his head, grasping your ankles desperately.

“I can’t think straight anymore. Please I…please.”

The smirk grows, your eyes flicker playfully. You straighten up.

“Then take off your pants, will you?”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am”, he stutters and gets out of them, working as quickly as possible to slip out of his jeans. 

He stands up for it but instantly falls to his knees again once bared. You wave him closer with a wiggle of your finger.

“There we go. Look at how hard you already are”, you taunt, rubbing your feet up and down his thighs. 

His cock twitches each time you come close to it. 

“Please.”

His begs satisfy you and so you lift your feet to fulfil his wish.

You put them on each side of his cock, meeting his eyes. He is breathing so heavily, pupils widened.

“Go ahead now, cover them in oil.”

“Yes, ma’am”, Namjoon obeys, biting his lower lip at the feeling of oil trickling down his cock. It is so cold in comparison to your warm soles.

You begin moving as he still pours the oil, forcing him to twitch and accidentally spill more than necessary.

“What a needy boy. That’s enough”, you say, chuckling fondly.

Namjoon places the bottle aside and instantly grips the rug, rolling his head back. A deep moan slips off his tongue, letting you know just how good it feels for him.

It feels amazing for you as well. His cock is really hot to the touch, a clear indicator of his desperation. It is also so soft and fragile. One wrong movement and you could squeeze him painfully. The power you have over him and the trust he puts into you is making you delirious. You switch your eyes between his blissed out face and the view of your feet.

The oil made them messy and allows them to glisten in the candle light. Each time you move them down to his base, his flushed cockhead appears between them, looking wetter and wetter each time you do.

You can’t do a lot of variations of the movement because the position limits it, but that’s alright for you. This is the perfect way to jerk off his cock. You can see everything. His meaty thighs tensing and twitching each time you rub your feet on his tip, his stomach and chest flexing and flinching each time you drag your feet down his veiny shaft and his blissed out face changing and contorting in pleasure.

“You look so handsome like this, darling. Kneeling for me is really your best look”, you coo, rubbing your feet back and forth on his tip. You can squeeze it gently like this, watching in delight how it moves between your feet.

Namjoon answers you with the sweetest moans, arching his back as best as possible. He loves it when he kneels for you. Everything about it is perfect to him. The loss of power, how small he suddenly is, the fact that he can look up at you and that you look down at him in return, the total surrender of control. He is completely and totally in the palms of your hands when he kneels and there is nothing sweeter to him. Although, palms of your hands might be wrong choice of words today. He is very much in the soles of your feet and it makes him want to pray to your name.

Maybe he does. Maybe he moans your name with such submission that you have to moan as well.

“Why are you praying to my name like that, mhm? Is it the kneeling or how I’m playing with your pretty cock?” you taunt, applying a little more pressure just to tease.

“Both”, Namjoon croaks, leaking all over your toes. It is so warm and slick, making it easier to please him.

“Both, I see. You’re such a needy boy then, aren’t you?”

“Yes, needy. Your needy boy.”

“My needy boy?”

Namjoon nods his head vigorously, bucking his hips up against his will. He keeps doing it, chasing the pleasure your feet give him. You let him, watching him with widened eyes and a tingling stomach.

“I see. My needy boy.”

“___”, Namjoon croaks, thighs trembling especially aggressively.

He rolls his head to the front and opens his eyes, instantly moaning loudly at the view. He knew that it would look sexy, because it feels so good, but it’s better than he imagined it to be. Your feet are so wet and oily and beautiful and perfect and beautiful and… his brain keeps repeating the same words, going foggy at the same time. The movements are suddenly so much more clearer to feel, seeping into his fibres deeper than before. He twists the rug as best as possible and moves his hips with more vigour.

“Does this feel good to you, darling?”

“Yes, so good. It’s insane”, he moans, following it up with the sweetest noises.

You match his sounds, keeping your feet still to allow him movement. He is chasing his orgasm. You know that he is because of how eager his hips twitch into your hold. He is basically rutting into you, using your slippery feet for pleasure. His dark hair hangs messily into his face and his glasses slipped down the slope of his button nose. He must be really hot in his jumper because his neck is slightly sweaty and his tanned skin flushed.

The part most flushed however is his cock. Hard and throbbing and so, so red it leaks just for you. And that means something with Namjoon because his cock is normally a pretty tan colour as well. This is feeling really good to him for his cock to flush that much.

“I, I don’t know if can- ah uhm, woah, I can…mhmm fuck. Fuck, I don’t know”, he is stuttering, changing between rasping and whimpering the words. How wonderful he is when he loses control over his voice.

“Whenever you need to, darling. I’m right here”, you encourage him, rubbing your feet back and forth.

“Shit! ___!” he yelps, losing the fight against pleasure. He gasps, grinds his teeth and growls, cock finally spurting all over your feet in a messy, hot orgasm.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Cum for me, such a good boy. My needy boy, cum all over my feet, you messy boy”, you talk him through it, feeling dizzy at the sexy view. This is getting you off as if you were the one having an orgasm right now.

Namjoon finishes after five aggressive thrusts of his hips, flinching back and therefore releasing his sensitive cock from your feet.

“Fuck, that was intense”, he presses out, holding your ankles. He is breathing heavily, head rolled back and mouth agape. His chest heaves up and down quickly, stretching the material of the jumper.

You kind of just enjoy the moment, gazing at him and thinking to yourself that he is the hottest man to ever exist.

“You’re a fucking goddess”, he gets out, making you chuckle.

“You’re a needy boy.”

“Mhm, I am. I bloody am”, he agrees and purrs, rolling his head to the front lazily. He gives you a tired yet happy smile, lifting your feet to his lips afterwards to lick the cum off them.

“What the heck? Oh my god, that’s hot”, you gasp, dropping into the pillow naturally. He made you lose balance, but you don’t mind. What he is doing right now is the hottest thing he ever did.

Namjoon purrs and slurps happily until your feet are squeaky clean. His hunger still remains however and so he puts your legs on his shoulders and licks sloppy paths up your inner thighs. Your breath speeds up more and more the closer to your pussy he gets.

He disappears under your skirt. Your knees are now bending over his back.

“My goddess”, he lulls, tugging your panties to the side and connecting his tongue with your wet pussy.

“Joon!” you yelp, arching your back. “Holy fuck!”

Namjoon purrs, thanking you for the pleasure with skilled laps of his tongue. He would never dare to take an orgasm from you without giving you one in return. You are his everything, the reason why he breathes. Your pleasure is so important to him that it would feel wrong not to eat you out right now. You are so wet and soft and swollen. Just imaging that he could have left you in such a state makes Namjoon angry. He pulls you closer with his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, using his plumb lips to rub your sensitive pussy.

“Wow, what the fuck?” you get out, squirming from side to side and arching your back. You do these two movements alternatively, unable to decide on which one you love more.

You won’t last long anymore, but that was never your goal. You want to fucking orgasm like he wanted his’. The day was long, it was stressful and annoying and this orgasm would make all of it go away. There is no better way than to truly leave the day behind than climaxing on Namjoon’s skilled tongue.

And you do, oh you fucking do.

“I’m cumming, darling”, you moan, feeding him your orgasm a second later.

Namjoon eats it up happily, moaning with you and keeping his tongue still so you could hump his face until you are satisfied.

“Fuck, this was perfect. God, come here you.”

You pull him from under your skirt after your high died down, kissing him messily and giggling when he falls atop of you clumsily. His glasses are fogged up and tilted to the side, his hair is a mess and his puffy lips taste like you. This is perfect. Everything about this is perfect.

Namjoon would agree, melting into your embrace with a fluttering heart and a tingling stomach.

“Was nice, really nice”, he mumbles.

“Yeah, so nice”, you agree, smiling with him because it is amazing to be together.

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

[ content warning: discussion of in-canon sexual abuse ] Maybe it’s just because I’m not too active in the ALNST fandom and mostly observe from afar, but I think this fandom brushed aside way too quickly the fact that Till was sexually assaulted. I have never seen anyone talk in depth about like, what that actually means in terms of his arc and the storytelling of his character. Which I find deeply, deeply upsetting because holy fucking shit.

This man right here has been told, basically his entire life, that not only is he himself not worthy of being treated as a human, but that his body is not his body, but a piece of property that can be owned. And whoever owns his property can use it for whatever, and however they wish. Now, dehumanization is nothing new or unique in this world, obviously. The very concept of Pet Humans is dehumanizing by nature, leaving all six of our main characters as victims to it, even those who are more well-off like Mizi. But Till is a specially fucked up case almost distinctly unlike the rest, because he is actually treated like a fucking dog.

(x) Ivan: If you keep rebelling like that, they won’t ever remove your collar you know? Till: This annoying bastard… — Ivan: I told you so, didn’t I? You didn’t listen? Till: This annoying bastard... (translation courtesy of @leiikos on youtube)

(x)

An unruly animal who needs to be leashed up and put in it’s place. Animals, as is common knowledge, are not on the same level as a human being. But they are ordained to follow the commands of those above them. And if someone (thing) isn’t doing as it is told…

It deserves to be taught better. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This is the mindset that has followed Till his entire life by the ones who were supposed to take care of him. He is not human, even less human than the existing inhuman. He is a pet, even more so than the other pets, an animal. A thing. Property. Something to own. And the best thing about owning something?

You gain the ability to do whatever you want to it. Till’s body was not his from the start. It was used as something to toy around with, experiment with, to train and train and train, presumably for his whole life. His body, his skin, his flesh and bone and blood, it was all nothing more than a plaything. So what if he screams? Just ignore it. Or don’t. If this competition has taught us anything, voices have the most value of all. On top of it being reinforced that Till is not deserving of humanity, he is also not deserving of his bodily autonomy. People are free to do whatever they want with his body because it’s not his body, it’s theirs. And that brings us, finally, to the scene itself

He can’t sing her song, he refuses to. This isn’t the first time he’s refused to do something, far from it actually. What was once an innocent puppy with dilated hope in his eyes has grown into an angry, disobedient mutt. And we know what happens to an animal that refuses to do what they’re told. But there’s something interesting about dogs, or rather about the ones they descended from, the wolf: When the circumstances call for it, they will bite the hand that’s supposed to feed them.

And here is where I intrude to remind you that this is the only time we see anyone physically fighting back against the aliens in the confines of Alien Stage. We see Hyuna and Mizi fucking up aliens in All In, but that was after they had escaped from the cage. And you could make a case for Mizi trying to escape the grasp of the guards that grabbed her in Ruler of My Heart, but from what we saw she didn’t actually lay a hand on them and more so just tried to force herself out of their grasp. though if you disagree with me on that that's fine Here though? Till has this bitch’s face grabbed into his palm with a bottle in hand ready to smash it directly in between it’s eyes. I consider this to be the first act of physical violence shown against the aliens within the uncomfortably tight enclosure. And it’s triggered not because of anything personally done to Till, which on its own could probably fill a list that reaches the ground. But because of the prospect of Mizi being dead. Till knows that this place is shit, that his life is shit. Said so directly on his profile.

Dislikes: Everyone, including Guardian Urak (translation courtesy of @kh47uo on twitter)

But he stays regardless because Mizi is there. If Mizi is dead, Till has absolutely nothing to lose…Right?

I can almost imagine him thinking: There’s nothing you can put me through that’s worse than every other way you’ve hurt me. …But there was. Oh there was.

A final, disgusting message to the pet to put him back in his place. Back on his leash. Making sure he will never forget where he stands for the rest of his days.

And that is really what the sexual assault of Till represents to me. It is a cruel reminder to Till that fighting back is impossible, having hope, being free, it might as well be a fool's fantasy. He will always be less-than-human, less than anything. His body will always be the property of the ones that were supposed to protect him, claimed, and then used used used until it’s worn out and dead.

And the aliens chose to exemplify that fact in the most direct way they possibly could.

So what if he screams? Just ignore it. Or don’t. If this competition has taught us anything, screams have the most value of all

[internetegoist]

Of Shidou Ryusei ; And how his character connects towards sexual trauma

(Content warning: Major mentions of SA/CSA and abuse, minor mentions for NSFW behaviour. Most of them aren't in graphic detail, but please please be wary of it 🙏 There's also spoilers for CSM and A Clockwork Orange)

Shidou's character is one of those that sticks with you throughout the entire series. It feels like we know everything about him, yet there's something so mysterious about his behaviour that makes you wonder, what's with this guy? We know how he acts, his violence and vulgarity injected in his brain and blood, but yet we don't know why he acts the way he is. It is very heavily implied that he went through a sort of restriction, born in a bird cage which he freed himself from through going to Blue Lock, but what is that restriction? What was the bird cage which trapped him? What was it that was holding him back from searching for freedom and exploring the world?

Since then, there's been a large speculation of theories on what his backstory could be. But one of them I want to talk about is about how his backstory is connected to SA, and how he could have experienced it at a young age. At first, I was extremelyyy hesitant to follow it due to how it made me a bit uncomfortable to discuss about, and how I saw a majority of people supporting the theory use it for shock value rather than a chance to devolve into darker topics. Of course, not the case for everyone who supports the theory, just from my own personal experience in the fandom.

But now, I can see the extremely, deeply discomforting vision on how this could be true in a way. From both his favourite manga and movie involving SA as an integral part in the story, to the concerning side of him being slightly revealed in the Egoist Bible. (Eg. crying at the end of the day, when he's feeling nothing or when he's empty, as well as his dislike of gifts)

Due to my heavy interests, I wanted to explore this theory into a more deeper matter. I decided to analyze more of his behaviour, as well as doing some of my own research. I must say, Shidou's behavioral manner can be one that is similar to those of SA survivors, especially male survivors.

Okay okay, enough yapping around. Let me get straight to the point.

Shidou and his instinct's responses

Generally after experiencing sexual abuse, one's entire personality will change. Every behaviour change is different for every sexual abuse survivor. Sometimes they'll isolate themselves more often, sometimes they turn into a much aggressive and violent person. Because the world has failed them, the world is putting them in a place where they are no longer safe and are more vulnerable. Because when your entire sense of self and personal power is taken away by your abuser, you are left with nothing but fear and new survival instincts. Why I bring this up is because Shidou's entire personality is built on instincts. His instant response to even the slightest hint of dislike or threat is to immediately beat them up, no matter who they are. A noteworthy thing to mention is that one of the main responses from males following sexual trauma is anger, because it is more socially acceptable for men to react that way. Attacking someone is the best way of defense, and Shidou follows this way of defense entirely. This also follows up with the stigma with the male ethic of self-reliance, in which help-seeking behaviours can be seen as cowardly or unmasculine.

It's most likely the reason why he also dislikes Kunigami's philosophy of heroes; Considering the fact his entire character is based on wanting to be free from restriction, he must have lived in an environment and/or went through a sort of restriction which influenced his ideals of "I can fend myself, I won't need anyone". The world he has grown up in was nothing but survival against the abuse he went through, so for what purpose should he believe in the principle of a savior, if he himself could have never been saved? It doesn't help either when in real time, there have been many cases where survivors of sexual abuse are either never believed when they speak out about it, or never speak out at all in fear of not being believed.

And besides the fact he uses violence as a defense method, one thing I noticed about Shidou is that during the time he was locked up by Ego for inducing violence onto Rin. We see him, perhaps for the first time, being calm and offering a promise that he'll make sure to stop fighting and hitting others, as long as he is let out of that prison he's trapped in. You see, a common reaction victims will use during the process of the SA is to freeze. To stay silent and still. It's like how animals freeze to avoid fights or further harm to themselves, or play dead in order to prevent getting eaten by predators. Although the outer self may seem to be in a calm state, the inside are on high alert, because they are afraid on what will be their abuser's next moves. The option to fight or run away may seem easy to those who haven't experienced SA, but to the victim it may seem harder than you think. Because freezing is a body's instinct response to abuse, and it'll stay frozen until the abuse is over, it's almost like a human's way of playing dead, so that the assault induced will end sooner. Among the instincts of 'fight, flight, freeze', Shidou seems to use fight the most out of the three. However, when necessary times come necessary measures, Shidou, perhaps for the first time, switches to 'freeze' instead of 'fight'. Not only because he basically, cannot physically fight anyone at that moment, but also because he is afraid. Afraid of being restricted yet again, afraid of not having the chance to live his life, which is to play football. The worst position to be in when you're being hurt or abused is limitation. You can't move, you can't fight, you can't run away from your abuse from happening. Nothing but hope that the abuse happening to you will end soon, that your abuser will stop hurting you. That's exactly what is so terrifying about the freeze responses.

Shidou and his sexual behaviour

If any fan knows anything about Shidou, it's that he's not afraid to speak out what's on his mind, especially lewd and inappropriate words. More or less, this can be connecting to something called hypersexuality. Accordingly, hypersexuality is defined as an intense focus on sexual fantasies, urges and behaviours that can't be controlled. Hypersexuality can not only cause distress, but also problems in school and workplace.

Survivors of sexual abuse cope in one of the two ways: Either by avoiding sexual or intimidate interactions entirely, or seeking said interactions on a large and unhealthy scale. According to this article, a majority of men who suffer from hypersexuality or sex addiction have been either physically or sexually abused in their childhood.

We see Shidou quite literally compare scoring a goal in football, to sexual intercourse. (And also the part where he says he's gonna blow his load, with Sae also dismissing it, but it's just partners supporting each other!)

By now, we know that two things that Shidou is unable to separate from each other is life and football. Both the act of life and the act of playing football is interconnected. Because football is something that allows him to leave a mark, allows him to be known by the world. Because football is a biological phenomenon to him, rather than just a sport.

And yes sure, this is supposed to be a connection to his philosophy of leaving a mark on others, so that you can be remembered. But also remember what he says in his monologue: "Those who create something, those who want to become something, and of course, those who make children." The way humans create life is through intimacy, through intercourse. The two people engaging leave a mark on each other through creating that life, that child.

And while speaking about his monologue of leaving a mark, Shidou also mentions that wounding others are a way of leaving behind a proof of existence. Inducing abuse whether it'd be physical, emotional or sexual, can also be one of the ways to make someone remember you.

The abuser leaves the mark on the victim, the mentioned mark left on them can be seen as PTSD or trauma symptoms.

Abuse is not something you can just simply turn away, forget or overlook. Whether the effects of trauma are short-term or long-term, they are there, they are a proof of existence that it happened. Shidou's inability to separate the physical act of football and the biological act of life's desires, especially sexual desires, can be seen as hypersexuality. Hypersexuality can also be seen as a mark left onto the victim. And it's extremely lengthy to recover and remove those marks left on you.

Of Freedom and Shidou Ryusei

I think Shidou Ryusei and his obsession with freedom is something so interesting about his character, yet so many people tend to ignore it as a significant part of him. Because imagine if one day out of the blue, your entire bodily autonomy gets taken away from you, you're trapped in a cycle of repetitive abuse onto you. When it's finally over and you have control over everything again, the world suddenly feels so utterly different. So what do you do? Of course, cling onto that freedom that is now yours.

Bite any other hand that may seem like it's trying to take it away, because if there is one thing you do not ever want to repeat, it is someone isolating you once more against the world. So hold on tightly to the freedom you now have, and make sure it stays with you for eternity.

All of Shidou's favourite things, his favourite film, manga and song, are also connected to this in a way.

It would take too long for me to get into detail about both Chainsaw Man and A Clockwork Orange, but I want to say that both media and their protagonists have approaches to freedom of life and choice.

In Chainsaw Man, Denji is a child that has been depraved of even the basic of human needs; Just like Shidou, he wants to claim everything in his current life and not return to when he had nothing when he was a child. In A Clockwork Orange, Alexander who in the beginning of the movie has been committing heinous crimes with no one to stop him, is captured and put through inhumane experiments in order to rehabilitate him. His entire freedom is taken away from him and for the next hour, we see him go through immense suffering and torture by those who he had wronged to the point he attempts to commit suicide through jumping off a window. In the end, it doesn't seem like his mindset has changed at all. It makes us question whether or not letting someone be free to do anything they want is the better option even if it hurts others, rather than attempt to isolate them in order to transform them into a better human being.

I would like to talk a little about his favourite artist. For a bit of context, hide is popular for being an icon of rebellion against Japan's conformist society, and one of his songs PINK SPIDER, is listed as Shidou's favourite song according to the official Blue Lock Egoist Bible. I've seen a lot of interpretations of what the song truly means, but the main story is that it's about a spider trapped within and kills anything near it. Because it wishes to free itself away, it steals a butterfly's wings. It attempts to fly, and fails, and tries again. Whether or not the spider did actually succeeded in flying away is unknown to us. But, that's not all!

Around the chapter where Shidou scores a goal, the commenter calls it a 'rocket diving header'. This can lead to one of hide's other songs in the same album as PINK SPIDER, rocket dive; a song with the similar approach of freedom but with different tones. Compared to PINK SPIDER, rocket dive has a more cheerful approach. In the end of the song, the star mentioned in rocket dive successfully flies away and appears as a new shooting star in the sky.

Which brings me to point out something: Shidou Ryusei's birthday is on Tanabata, a type of Japanese celebration called the Star Festival which is celebrated on the seventh day of the seventh month.

His name, Ryusei, is also a homophone for shooting star in Japanese.

Shidou, born as a star on the day where two lover stars meet, yet when he was born, he was not allowed to fly and join the others in the sky.

But he overcame everything, achieved that dream of having the freedom to do whatever he wants. And even though he went through all that pain, all that abuse, and most likely had to learn how to escape by himself through football before Blue Lock, he made it come true, like a spell.

And eventually, he learnt how to fly, and let the world knew who he was.

[lightningant]

There's a lot of fluff about how Harry shows no sign of trauma from his upbringing but maybe it's because I was neglected and often spoken of as extremely well-adjusted, but to me Harry seems to be a pretty natural response to a combination of neglect and a stable upbringing? He's not like. Traumatized. But a lot of people just develop maladaptive habits from these circumstances. Like:

Dissociative tendencies. I know this one is not intentional, but he shows constant lack of focus which interferes with his schooling and will often just space out and stare at things. This is used as a device to point the reader towards plot relevant items and turn them from irrelevant details, but it is something he does.

Harry does not actually distrust adults outright at first! He goes to teachers for help! But he tends to disrespect them, and struggles to think of adults as figures of authority the moment they slip up. Hagrid's bumbling chaos, Quirrell's nerves, Snape beefing with an 11-year-old, McGonagall not taking his Very Real Concerns seriously, Vernon's bluster, these are moments Harry discards their authority - that child thought McGonagall was going to burn him at the stake at first, but was barely shaken by her later. And it makes sense! You are a powerless child, you are looked down on, but the "consequences" you face are things you got used to and feel are normal, so you take strength from being unafraid of punishment.

A lot of fluff is made about abuse victims and independence because yeah, obviously, but I do think a lot of his savior/martyr complex is egged on by his servile role; he lived his entire life apart from the Dursleys, but they relied on him. To be crude, when someone shits the bed he puts it in the washer. And I do think he takes satisfaction in being the best man for the job, and I do think that can breed a whole host of mental problems that will lead you to a fated suicide duel with a Dark Lord

The books are mean-spirited in general, but he learned a lot of the fundamentals on engaging with the world from the Dursleys. He's pretty consistently petty and vindictive! And I genuinely believe Harry is, personally, as a character, fatphobic (in addition to the doylist text being fatphobic), because it was something Dudley gets criticized for and thus something that proves Dudley isn't infallible, and he would have definitely fixated on it and felt comfortable doing so, because that's just how the Dursleys talk about people.

For that matter, he is in general stifled by the inner lives of others - he's somehow the most socially stunted person in a trio with Hermoine in it. He is at all times deeply uncomfortable by the thought that other people have feelings and motivations, and reifies people with strong, clear roles in his life, and a lot of his development is realizing there are people behind those roles. I stand by the fact that Harry naming a child after Snape is a symptom of unaddressed mental illness.

This boy is so unbelievably susceptible to mania. I'll acknowledge a lot of his behaviour is teenage bull-headedness but the way the extremes of "I need to be doing something Now" and catastrophizing only gets worse...You know when he's 30 he's going to get prescribed mood stabilizers

And these are all things that can spiral into really toxic and self-destructive behaviour, which we know because that's what happens in the books. I think part of pushing his trauma in fanfiction is accepting that sometimes when someone is traumatized they develop an awful personality instead of PTSD.

(You may now reread this entire post and think about Tom Riddle.)

[1d1195]

Most VII

Read Most here | ~5.8k words

From me: Last part! (for now) I hope you like it. Thank you for sticking with it--I don't think it was very popular after all the additional parts, so I appreciate all of you for letting me finish it.

Warnings: angst but fluff. Probably need so suspend your belief a bit more (especially if you don't believe in soulmates)

Summary: She's safe. He's safe. There's nothing left to do but talk.

Harry didn’t let go of her when they put her in the ambulance. He held onto her hand the entire time. Nor when they put an oxygen mask on her beautiful face. He didn’t let go of her for one second when they arrived at the hospital.

Honestly, she couldn’t complain. She was tired. Exhausted, really. Her only other thought outside of her own traumatization of the day was that poor Harry had to be just as drained (or more) after being awake for over thirty-six hours—maybe even longer. But his hand squeezed hers while they looked her over. She held another oxygen mask over her mouth and inhaled deeply, repeatedly while Harry sat beside her on the little exam bed. It felt like she was breathing in the freshest air in the middle of the forest. But a huge part of her believed the same result would have been achieved if she hid her face in Harry’s shirt the way she wanted to and breathed in the same manner she was breathing with an oxygen mask.

“Are you feeling, okay?” The doctors asked her so many times while they ran tests and Harry seemed to hold his breath each time, like it would suddenly change.

“I’m really scared,” she admitted finally looking away from Harry’s worried eyes. “I’m so worried something’s wrong and I’m not going to notice,” her voice cracked. Harry squeezed her hand and watched her anxiously. Somehow, his smile was encouraging. But she wasn’t sure he fully believed it.

“You’re okay, baby,” he whispered quietly. But she saw it in his eyes. If he could swap places with her right then, he would have. After everything she put him through, he would still save her and take all the pain.

“I know,” the doctor looked her over sympathetically. “But I promise, I thoroughly checked everything. Your heart is strong. The oxygen is helping for sure. But to be sure, we want to keep you overnight for observation just to make sure... perhaps your boyfriend can grab you some of your belongings—”

“That’s okay,” she could see Harry was surprised to hear her say it and not himself. “I don’t want him to leave me.”

Harry thought his heart was going to break again. The word boyfriend didn’t deter her. It felt like part of his life snapped back into place. He thought the magnetic field had realigned the day he saw her in traffic, but it felt like the tilt of the earth finally righted itself to the correct position. This was it. Everything was back to normal.

At least as far as his heart was concerned.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Right,” the doctor smiled. Like she already knew of their love story by just looking at them. “Well... make yourselves comfortable, then.”

There was very little Harry could do about her fear. So if it was the only thing he could do, Harry was going to ensure she was comfortable.

*

He made her laugh like he used to. Part of him worried it wasn’t good for her achy, smoky lungs, but it didn’t matter. He loved to chat with her. Harry’s fingers never released hers. But to be fair, hers didn’t let go of his either. Not even though she was certain they were a bit cramped, and her mind worried that Harry was uncomfortable situated in the chair beside the bed. Their only reprieve was using the restroom. But then it was right back to interlocked fingers and the warmth of their palms slipping alongside one another.

He loved her so painfully much. He hoped it was enough.

The hours crept by. The fire, the waiting for an ambulance, their time in the ER, the admittance to a room, it all ticked by slowly and anxiously for the pair of them. But despite how it played out, she got her time after Harry’s shift to talk with him the way he wanted—the way she wanted. They talked for so long, the sun set across the room turning Harry’s skin into this beautiful golden shade that made him look utterly gorgeous. Like a painting in the finest museums in the world. But his eyes stayed on her the entire duration of the sunset.

Once the sun was down and the only light they had was from the bathroom, (because the fluorescents were so harsh and headache inducing for the two of them long term) Harry started to yawn and seemed to continue yawning for minutes on end.

That was when she finally remembered time existed. Time ceased to have meaning while she was with Harry. That time was spent putting their lives back together piece by piece; filling in gaps they didn’t know they were missing but belonged to the parts of each other they had shared with one another ages ago—before they even started dating. When fate decided they were soulmates and they didn’t have a choice in the matter.

By that time, the clock read just past nine when she noticed his yawns were becoming more frequent. She had been pulling the oxygen mask off and on for hours. Seeing his droopy eyes made her ache for something she hadn’t had in years. He was always beautiful and perfect, but something about sleepy, vulnerable Harry made her feel like she could protect him the way he always protected her.

“C’mere,” she wiggled backwards on the small twin hospital bed. She turned on her side to create more space for him. “I think I smell all smoky,” she warned.

Normally, Harry thought he would protest. She needed the rest. She was the one that inhaled all that smoke and Harry hogging her bed with his tall frame wasn’t needed. But his body ached to be closer to her. Closer than the space between her on the bed and him keeping vigil in the chair pulled close allowed. “Think I do too,” he shrugged. They both smelled like smoke. But Harry was certain if he could get close enough, she would smell like herself too; floral, warm, and just her. Like home.

Carefully, Harry slid onto the bed with her. Their legs touched. Thigh to thigh, knee to knee, foot to foot. He placed a hand on her hip pulling her lower half toward him and leaving a space between their torsos so he could look at her perfect, beautiful face.

They fit like puzzle pieces on her small mattress. The reasoning for her hospital visit wasn’t something he would want in a thousand years, but it was almost how he imagined sleeping on her bed in her dorm. Replacing a piece of something he missed out on.

She rested one hand on his ribs, right over his T-shirt. He thought he had died—the feel of her hand on his body was warm and overwhelming. For several moments, they just stared at each other. Like Harry was worried she would disappear again. “The doctor called me your boyfriend,” he whispered eventually.

She nodded. Her cheeks turned pink. “Sorry... I...” she swallowed. “I didn’t know what to say.”

It was starting to get quiet; hospital visiting hours were long over. There was no more chatter coming from other rooms. There was only the sound of beeping machines, the nurses, doctors, and others bustling outside her door. Their gentle breaths mixing together between them.

“Kitten,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Are y’going t’leave me again?” His voice was low, and he hated asking the question because he thought it would upset her. Though it pained him, he needed to know. It was a risk he had to take; making her feel bad. Even if it hurt both of them.

She shook her head immediately. She drew in a deep breath and dropped her forehead forward to his chest and released the air in her lungs. “I won’t live, Harry.”

His lips quirked up into a sympathetic smile. “Think y’would, kitten,” he remarked sadly. “Y’did before.”

She shook her head again. “That wasn’t living, baby,” she murmured.

He closed his eyes and brought her hand to his mouth. “I love you so much. When y’say baby, s’like m’home. I haven’t been home kitten, not without you. Feels like I’ve been nowhere.”

“I thought nowhere was home,” she whispered, a smile in her voice.

When he opened his eyes, she was watching him. She reached for the oxygen mask again, not wanting to interrupt their moment of quiet longing, but immediately he helped her with it. He cupped her cheek around the mask and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “Why would y’listen t’her?”

She dropped her gaze. She was ashamed of herself. Listening to someone who was supposed to be her friend instead of just asking Harry what he was feeling. “I don’t know... She made sense at the time. Sometimes I think she still does... I mean don’t you want more, Harry? What if there is more out there for you than what I can offer? I couldn’t have imagined you up if I tried... but you? You always deserved more than—”

“No,” he shook his head refusing to let her short herself any longer of all the beauty she possessed, all the love, and kindness that she exuded. His hand held her cheek and he skimmed his thumb along cheekbone. “There’s no more, kitten. You’re the most. You, m’love, you are the only thing that exists for me. I’m so sorry y’were alone and felt like y’weren’t enough. You have always been more than enough. The most I could ever need. I’ve… I’ve never been so lost; I can’t imagine how y’felt.”

She turned her face toward his hand, lifted the mask so she could kiss his palm. “Why did you wait for me?” She whispered.

“Because you’re m’soulmate, kitten.”

“But... you don’t believe in those,” she whispered repeating her same statement from last night. It wasn’t something she ever dwelled on. She understood why he didn’t believe in them. Even if it was silly. But maybe it was the little bit of water that dripped into her head and watered the seed that Lauren had planted in her head a few years ago. It wasn’t his fault. Realistically, plenty of people didn’t believe in soulmates.

He shook his head, shrugged. But his eyes didn’t move from hers. “I believe you’re mine, baby.”

Her lower lip wobbled, and tears filled her vision. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry Harry,” her voice broke on every syllable. “I thought if I told you... you would convince me to stay. Then I thought staying would just make you resent me because you never got a chance to... this way... I don’t know... it’s like I’m here now, yeah? And I know now—but I should have known then, right? God Harry, this is so fucked. I fucked up so bad and—” now her monitor displayed an increased heartrate, and her breath was shallow—like she was starting to hyperventilate. So much so that Harry put the mask back over her mouth and shushed her soothingly. He stroked the remainder of her face gently with the back of his hand while her eyes wildly flitted over his face.

“You’re here now,” he told her after the heart monitor read a normal level. “And I’m never letting you get away. Never ever again.” Sighing, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his chest once more. He kissed the top of her hair and just enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms. The way he dreamed of feeling her. “Gemma actually told me that—”

A spike in her monitor. “Oh my God, she’s going to hate me forever,” she cried, voice breaking. “I should have stayed away,” she moaned. He pulled the oxygen mask away and kissed her softly. It felt so normal. As everything he had felt since he started seeing her these last couple weeks. Touching her, seeing her, hearing her, all of it felt like no time had passed.

When he pulled away, his lips missing the way hers felt against his, her heart rate was steady again. Her cheeks flushed and Harry thought she tasted like smoke, but she still tasted like her too. “Baby, she does not hate you. No one hates you. I’ll make sure of it,” he assured her. “I wish y’told me, but s’not your fault.”

“You’re way too forgiving,” she grumbled.

“God, for you?” He chuckled and kissed the bridge of her nose. “I was going t’tell you that Gem won’t hate you. She said she knew y’were coming back.”

“How could she have possibly known that?”

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. “She said she felt it. She jus’ knew.” There was a prolonged moment of silence while she thought that over. While Harry continued to touch her face as if it was the only thing he was born to do.

“Wish she clued me in,” she grumbled.

He laughed quietly again.

*

When the clock read midnight, it was even quieter in the hospital room. The gentle beeping of machines started to sound like a lullaby. They had stopped talking a long time ago, but they didn’t fall asleep. It felt like making up for lost time. Harry was analyzing her face. Her pores were filled with smoke and Harry inspected the bits of glass that managed to cut her palms from her crawling to safety. He kissed her softly across her pretty face. Like a reminder to himself that she was real and tangible. His lips made a home against her temple. A spot he loved to leave his mouth pressed against—like it was home while her lips were busy.

She was weaning off the oxygen, letting a little under an hour pass in between her use of it. “Hi,” she whispered softly.

He smiled. “Hi,” he dragged his nose along her hairline and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. She fiddled with the fabric of his shirt, right near his collar.

“What did you do while I was gone?” Her voice was quiet. Fading with sleepiness. Harry may have even blinked his eyes closed for a short nap a couple hours prior, but he was content to just stare at her. Ensure that she wasn’t going to leave again.

He trailed his fingers along the side of her face, through the bit of hair that rested against her head along the pillow. He smiled. Smiled more than he thought was possible because at the time he thought his hobby was so dumb. Felt like he was going to die most days without her because she was fresh air and his little ways of keeping himself entertained were hardly a replacement for how she would have fit into his life so effortlessly.

Now... now it seemed like the most important thing he had ever done, and it wasn’t that he had to tell her about it because she asked, he needed to tell her. “I... I got... really into carpentry.”

She snorted; a laugh followed immediately. Arguably the most beautiful sound Harry knew. “Shut up.”

“No... like...” he started to laugh with her. “Like... really into it. Made Mum a bit crazy at times, I think,” he tilted his head back. “Made tables, chairs... I fixed door frames and did trim...”

“Stop, I can’t breathe,” she laughed. The kind of laughter she felt with Addie that night they became best friends. Back when she thought she would never laugh again. “Why?” She covered her face with her hand to stifle her giggles. But Harry made her laugh like it was nothing. As if he made her laugh every day that he wasn’t around her.

He shook his head. “I don’t know...” her laugh was infectious. It made him happy to hear it and he had no choice but to laugh just as hard. “I really don’t. I feel like I should be sad telling y’about it. But I loved it. So, so much.”

“What was your favorite thing to make?”

“Chairs.”

“I think this might be worse than the smoke inhalation,” she laughed again, becoming breathless but Harry didn’t mind this kind of breathlessness. Plus, they still had her oxygen mask. Harry thought it might have been, in the very smallest of ways, good that she left if it made her laugh like this.

Eventually, her laughter died down. There was another bout of quiet for a few moments longer. Then finally Harry asked. “What did y’do?”

Harry was watching her, wiping the tears that came from her heavy laughter from the corners of her eyes. He kissed her forehead again. “I knitted.”

“What?”

“I knitted.”

“Knitted what?”

“Oh my God, Harry. Everything.” It was his turn to laugh, thinking of her surrounded with yarn, covered with yarn. Her bed and desk covered with needles, sweaters, hats, mittens.

“Y’jus’ turned into a little old grandma?” He snorted.

“Yeah, I guess,” she giggled. The clock read two in the morning. She tried to calculate it in her head, but Harry had to have been awake for nearly forty-eight hours at that point. He grabbed the oxygen mask and placed it over her mouth. They were quiet while she took in the pure air. Harry pushed her hair behind her head and trailed his fingers over her cheek.

“Do y’feel okay?” He asked.

She nodded. He put it aside again after a few moments and he kissed her forehead. “What did you miss most about me?” She whispered.

The feeling of longing overtook his body. It was so hard to imagine he had been without her for so long. When they fit together like they did on the little bed, when they sounded like happiness when they laughed together. It wasn’t just missing her. It was agony without her. Like she had taken his heart with her. “Everything, kitten,” he shook his head. “I missed everything ‘bout you.”

She sighed, looked at his chest, outlined the cross below his shirt. It was still covered in smoke and soot from carrying her out. “No, but...” she smiled softly. “Like materially—what did you miss?”

The air felt lighter and maybe she already knew he missed everything about her. The reprieve of seriousness felt a little better. There would be ample time to hash out details regarding how serious it was. How she was to never believe another person about his love for her that wasn’t him (or someone completely vetted like Louis or Sarah). “Oh,” he paused. “Those cheesy potatoes y’make for parties.”

Her laugh made him feel like he could do impossible things. It easily could have been the thing he missed most. “I’ll make them as soon as I get my hands on a kitchen.”

“Oh, baby, you are going t’make me cry,” he squeezed her and kissed the top of her head. “Did y’miss anything ‘bout me?” He asked.

“Harry,” she sighed, nosed at his chest. “Wasn’t just anything. It was everything.”

It felt like his heart was smiling. He tilted her head up and gazed into her eyes. “I meant materially,” he smirked taking her own joke.

Without hesitation, she answered. “I haven’t had my back properly cracked in three years.”

“God, I fucking love you,” he whispered.

She giggled. “I love you too,” she responded. She grabbed his cheeks, kissed his lips long enough to make him think his heart might stop, and then dropped her head back to his chest.

An undeterminable amount of time passed again. There was no more chatting or kissing. It was just nearly pathetic staring; gazing at one another waiting for the other to disappear like a mirage they didn’t know they were seeing. But her eyes drooped lower and Harry yawned. The clock read shortly after two thirty. “We should sleep.”

He shook his head, worry set deep in his eyes that she wished she could rip out and throw away. “M’afraid s’a dream.”

She frowned. “I really hope it’s not.”

He smiled, comforted by the fact the feeling was mutual. “If this is a dream,” he started. “Can y’do me a favor?” He asked. She nodded, waited. “Can y’come home t’me?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately then tucked herself further into his embrace. “As soon as I wake up,” she promised.

He smiled, kissed the top of her head again and gently rubbed a circle on her cheek with his thumb. “Hey, kitten?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“God Harry, I love you so much.”

Then, because there was truly nothing else that they could say of the last forty-eight hours, they fell asleep.

*

They woke up to the door slamming open against the hospital wall. Harry squeezed her protectively and her heart clenched at the motion. The clock read eleven AM exactly.

Which meant it was officially visiting hours and the first people in the room were Addie and Carter. “Move,” Addie physically pulled Harry off the bed. “You’ve had her long enough now,” she winked at her as she took his spot and kissed her forehead. Harry snorted and then laughed because Harry could never believe such a thing. He could have had her all those three years, every single day, and he would never have enough time with her. “You’re an idiot,” Addie whispered loudly so everyone could hear her say it.

Carter ignored Addie, leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Hey Gorgeous,” he smiled giving her shoulder a squeeze. “You didn’t need to do all this to get us to visit.”

She was groggy with sleep and anxiety. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Harry called us,” Addie wiped the soot from beneath her eyes because it was still caked into her pores. At the same time, the room filled with their remaining friends. There were balloons and flowers, a massive teddy bear.

“Aw, you didn’t bring coffee?” She frowned then winked in fake disappointment.

“Oh,” Harry cleared his throat. “We can’t go to the coffee shop on Main anymore.”

She frowned immediately. This one was not fake. “How come?”

Sarah made eye contact with Harry and had a whole conversation with him just using her eyes. “I knew it,” she mumbled.

Harry scuffed his foot along the floor ignoring Sarah’s quip. “The owners of the coffee shop own the apartment building. S’a whole scandal,” he explained. Which was in part truth. He took a phone call in the early morning from the fire chief while she was fast asleep against his chest. The building was condemned and everything inside it was lost. “Insurance fraud,” he explained simply.

“Jesus,” Niall blinked rubbing a hand over his face. “Bet you’re glad y’storage unit was delayed, now, huh princess?” He smiled sympathetically.

“Oh my God, your notebooks,” Addie whispered realizing how right Niall was.

The heart monitor betrayed her with a small spike and alarm. She swallowed nervously, blushed as everyone looked at her. “Burnt toast, I guess.”

“Grim, babe,” Louis snorted making everyone laugh.

“No, it’s a theory,” she rolled her eyes. “If you burn your toast, it means you have to make new toast. Saves you from a car accident or from being in a place you’re not supposed to be at a specific time. Or you’re the fifth person in line that morning and you get a free coffee.”

“Burnt toast,” he repeated. “Well, I have saved my own life a lot of times then,” he chuckled.

“I think the three toasters you’ve killed would disagree,” Eleanor smiled.

“Are you feeling okay?” Carter asked.

She bit her lip. “I think so... I’m pretty sure I’m going to be allowed to leave soon...but I really need a shower. I wish I had some clothes to—”

“Way ahead of you,” Sarah grabbed the duffle bag Mitch had on his shoulder. He gave her a wink. “Harry thought you might want to be rid of smoky clothes and hair.”

She thought it would be too much to say Harry was her hero in front of their friends. So she would tell him later. Repeatedly.

*

“What are you going to do?” Addie asked as she signed the discharge papers. Her hair was air drying; her skin was less smoky. She watched the black water swirl into the drain during her much-needed shower and with it rid herself of the traumatic day

“I don’t know,” she sighed, laying the pen flat on the clipboard. Addie was seated beside her, not an inch of space between them. “Any chance you and Carter wouldn’t mind your old roommate?” She asked with a smile.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking,” Addie rolled her eyes. “You’re not seriously going to move back with us after all this?” She asked.

“Addie,” she whispered hoping no one heard her. It seemed they hadn’t as the rest of the group was gathering all the items they had lugged in only a couple hours prior. Harry was getting off the phone near the window. Carter was reentering the room with Mitch; carrying two trays of coffee and bags of food filled the room with the most enticing smells of breakfast sandwiches and espresso. “I don’t really know what else to—”

“Harry!” Addie smiled delightedly hopping off the bed and hurrying to Harry’s side. He was off the phone and in the middle of a conversation with Niall.

“Addison!” She shouted, voice breaching hysterical immediately. She hopped off the bed and yanked her back away from Harry as quickly as she could. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

“Ow!” Addie pulled her arm from her. “Harry, I hate to put you on the spot like this—”

“Addie, I swear to God!”

“—but I am rather enjoying walking around the apartment naked with my boyfriend and would love to continue such. Is there anyway—”

“Addison,” Carter chuckled, prying her fingertips from Addie’s arm. “She’s going to stop breathing if you—”

“—you have room in your house for a roommate?”

She slapped a hand over her eyes and felt embarrassment curl through her. “Your girlfriend is a pain in the ass,” she whispered to Carter.

“I know, it’s the best,” he winked even though she couldn’t see it.

“Oh... um... I jus’ got off the moving company t’move your storage pod t’my place,” Harry sounded a little uncomfortable. Awkward. “It’ll be a couple days, but they’ll do it,” she peeked from between her fingers at his face. It was slightly flushed, embarrassed. “If that’s too much though... Niall was jus’ saying y’could have his one-bedroom ‘til y’figure out—”

“She’ll stay with you!” Addie chirped excitedly.

Harry chuckled. “Addie,” he smiled appreciatively. “I want her t’be comfortable.”

She shoved her toward him with so much force Harry had to hold her to keep her from falling unsteadily. “I can’t imagine a place—no, an entire universe—where she would be more comfortable,” Addie assured him.

“That’s a lot to spring on someone, Addie,” she snapped, glaring at her; her face half covered from where she had buried it into Harry’s fresh T-shirt brought along with new belongings for her as well.

“I don’t mind, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head encouragingly. “Was going t’suggest it as we walked out.”

*

They all gathered in front of the hospital. Planning their next stop. “I uh...” she shook her head. “I gotta make a lot of phone calls.”

“Can we meet up for dinner?” Carter suggested.

Everyone nodded, full of smiles and excitement. “Do you guys need help back to your hotel?” Louis asked.

“You guys got a hotel? You should have stayed with us!” Sarah frowned.

As the plans were discussed, Addie gave her a huge hug, kissed the side of her head then pulled away and looked at her. She was tired, probably still filled with a bit of smoke, but Addie thought she looked more like the picture still on her fridge than she had the entire time she’d known her.

“I’m so proud of you for jumping,” Addie bloomed with pride which made her cheeks flush pink.

“Shut. Up,” Eleanor laughed.

“Of course you read that,” Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Oh man,” Niall groaned. “What was it? Three months?”

“That’s generous. Maybe one month,” Mitch was scrolling on his phone. “Last message I have about it is a month and a half ago,” he held it up for proof.

“It was extremely well written,” Harry grumbled bitterly.

“What was well written?” Carter asked winking at her. Addie for once was silent. Watching her carefully for her reaction which was currently stoically still.

“Harry, who has never picked up a magazine a day in his life,” Eleanor explained to Carter. “Was at the doctor’s office. Losing his mind as he always was and decided to leaf through one of the magazines on the coffee table in the waiting room.”

“He then proceeded to read us the article no less than twenty times in a row and explain everything he thought about it. How it reminded him of you. How he wanted to jump so badly and reset everything in his life,” Niall completed.

She turned to look at Harry; head tilted curiously. A pucker between her eyebrows as she examined him like she was seeing him for the first time.

“It sounded like you,” his cheeks turned pink. “M’sorry, kitten; it was jus’... so good. Sounded like something you would ramble about and then scribble down during a rainstorm. It reminded me so much of you... s’like I had something t’hold onto.”

Carter snickered watching the panic on her face ensue.

“Well, Harry. I’ll tell you why it reminded you so much of her. But you already figured it out.”

She looked at her feet, face burning with embarrassment that another six people knew some of her most inner thoughts. Her anonymity for something that broke her to write because she missed Harry wasn’t a full secret anymore.

The group remained quiet. Silent except for cars rolling through the parking lot as everyone processed what Addie said.

“You’re joking,” Eleanor whispered finally. “You... you wrote that?”

“She did,” Carter smiled. “In our English class. Addie insisted she publish it.”

“You used a pen name?” Niall asked. She nodded silently, embarrassed that they had read arguably one of her most personal ideas. “Wow,” he whispered. “What are the chances?”

“I told all of you,” Harry wrapped his arm around her tighter. Probably tighter than someone with worry about their lungs needed to be held, but he kissed the top of her hair once more. “I knew it was you,” he whispered in her ear.

“It’s framed in his house,” Louis said. “That is insane.”

“Soulmate stuff, I guess,” she shrugged, cheeks still tinted red. But the only person who heard was Harry. Which was really how she meant it to be anyway.

*A few days later*

“Jesus Christ,” she snapped and dropped the end of the couch to the storage pod floor again. Harry ran to her side and pulled her hand from her mouth to examine her injured index finger.

“I thought y’were kidding,” he smirked. “Some magnet y’got in there,” he pressed his lips against her digit and then her forehead.

She shook her head. “It’s ridiculous!” she frowned.

“I got it, love. You shouldn’t be lifting anything heavy anyway,” Mitch reminded her and put a hand on her shoulder as he gently nudged the pair of them out of the way. Niall winked at her as he lifted the other end while Harry examined the small puncture wound as seriously as if she had split her aorta right in front of him.

Quietly, they were alone while their friends moved all her stuff into Harry’s little house. Sarah and Eleanor distracted Mrs. Peterson while the boys moved the heavy stuff. And Harry just looked at her finger. “Are you sure about this?” She whispered.

“Please don’t make me beg,” he murmured. “I will,” he nodded. “I’ll beg and scream and fight if y’want me to,” he squeezed her hand and dropped it between them and smiled at her. “But I don’t want to.”

She smiled back, squeezed his hand, and stepped closer to him. He wrapped his arm around the top of her shoulders. Gently, she shook her head, dropped her head against the front of his shoulder. “No... I don’t want that. I’m just... it’s a lot. I’ve only been in town three weeks,” she reminded him.

“But baby,” he sighed, kissed her temple. The way he spoke made her sleepy. The way he held her made her feel so safe—like she could fall asleep standing right next to him.

It would take a bit of work. Reassurance that she was enough. Part of him felt guilty that he hadn’t clued her in on that fact long before. It seemed like it was known. The two of them fit so completely together he never thought he would need to remind her that she was enough. More than enough. More than he could ever dream of or want.

But he would do it. They were together. He would reassure her every day. He would try his hand at poetry if he needed to do it. If it meant that she would stay and not worry.

Harry met her gaze, held it for so long part of her really wondered if she had fallen asleep. “You’re home.”

And she saw it all. Always had. She saw their friends hosting or coming to cookouts with little ones that would expand their little friend circle. She saw Harry carrying her to bed because she refused to fall asleep in the bedroom without him while his shift wasn’t over. She saw the books and pens and notebooks that he would buy for her even though she was certain she wouldn’t fill them all (even if she did).  She saw the little ones that had Harry’s green eyes and his perfect curls. She hoped they’d get his dimples and his kindness. The world deserved more Harry. There would be too many wooden chairs that Harry would make, and she would help stain, for them to put in their yard. There was everything in her little vision. All centered around the most perfect person she knew. The person she was lucky to call her soulmate. Even after all that time.

If it all was a dream like Harry had suggested in the hospital, then it was worth it, because the moment she woke up she would run back to him. She would beg and scream and fight if she needed to.

Because this was everything. It was more than she could ever want.

“Do you mean, I’m home? Like I’m at home or I am home. Like home is me?” She asked.

“You already know the answer t’that, my love.”

It was the most she would ever need.

--

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