#showing up with a fork and knife to eat your dreams

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance - Ghostabocky

[hyucksos]

heavy is the crown — mark lee [preview]

pairing: mark lee x f!reader genre: fantasy/supernatural au, crime-action, angst, romance preview wc: 1.2k (actual wc: tbc) synopsis: a series of visions lead you to mark lee, a seemingly normal human boy with no ties to the world of the gifted— your world. as such, you're concerned as to why you keep seeing him in your dreams, and the army of wraiths that just can't seem to leave him alone despite him being powerless... or so you thought. as he joins you at the academy, you learn that there may be more to this mark lee than you thought there was. taglist: open | click here to join

You had no idea what Taekwondo was. At least, not until today.

According to Donghyuck, it’s a form of martial arts, similar to the combat training you go through at the academy every day. You weren’t actually sure on whether to believe him or not considering Donghyuck is Donghyuck and his whole life before joining the academy sounded like a jumble of lies (you learnt not to trust him wholeheartedly after he convinced you that bananas were considered a delicacy in the outside world. He made you eat them with a knife and fork for a full week).

But now, as you’re sitting amongst the sea of heads in the stands overlooking the arena below, you think that Donghyuck might just be telling the truth this time.

You tug on the gloves that hug your hands and forearms, the latex that sticks uncomfortably to your skin not at all helping in easing your nerves. You rarely step foot outside the academy— not like it’s ever been restricted; you know being in unfamiliar environments could potentially spike your elemental, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally committing arson, or anything like that. As much as you hate your gloves, you know they keep you safe, which is why you keep them on.

Weirdly enough, nobody seems to pay you any mind; not with your gloves, not even with the bulky silhouette of your hanbok-like uniform you knew you should have changed out of before coming here. It’s as though you’re invisible, everyone’s eyes fixed on the arena below.

“The next match is about to begin. In the blue corner representing Blue Wave Taekwondo, here to show off his agility and skill— let’s give it up for Jeno Lee!”

You startle when the people around you cheer loudly, and you slowly bring your own hands together to join in on the applause. You can’t really make out the athlete’s face as he steps into the ring, most of his features blocked by the helmet he dons. You’re curious, having never seen a sparring match that required this much gear before— then again, you suppose that's just how it goes for an ordinary human sport.

“And in the red corner, known for his speed and precision, Kick It Dojang’s very own Mark Lee! Let’s give him a warm welcome!”

The buzz of the crowd fades into the background the moment your gaze lands on the boy decked in red and white, but you don’t register it until a second later— not until he straightens his back after bowing to his opponent, and his eyes meet yours.

A sharp pain suddenly hits your temples, and you hiss as your head falls to your hands. Immediately, the world starts to warp.

You’re looking at the boy from your visions, the boy you now know as Mark Lee. His head lies in your lap, lifeless, his skin pale and cold. Shadows swirl around you, whispering things you don’t understand.

“Mark,” you breathe, voice trembling. “Wake up. I need you to wake up, please.”

But nothing.

The whispers grow louder, your own voice feeling like it's being drowned out by their presence. Your chest starts to tighten with the weight of the darkness-

The vision cuts off abruptly, and you’re left breathless as your eyes refocus to the arena before you. You’re not sure how much time has passed, but Mark is still in the ring, already in the midst of sparring with his opponent.

Your visions of him were what led you here in the first place, each one like fragments of a puzzle pulling you closer and closer. They're mostly brief, but you know they mean something, especially because of the shadows that would often surround him as they hiss with intent you couldn't decipher.

But this one was different.

For the first time, he had a name. For the first time, you saw him up close— vulnerable, his life resting in your hands as the wraiths closed in around you both.

It felt like the collision of two separate worlds that were never supposed to merge, and you know that this was no ordinary vision. Whatever it is that just happened... it was only the beginning.

And you knew you needed to let Mark know.

Mark bounces his head to the music blasting through his wired earpieces, his eyes trained on his scuffed Converses as he walks. He's been told it's a real bad habit, to not watch where he's going (especially when he couldn't even hear his surroundings most of the time), but he swears he's working on it. Plus, his headphones aren't even the noise-cancelling kind, so he's still able to hear what goes on around him, albeit only partly; like right now.

Mark stops in his tracks, pulling out one of the buds from his ears as he looks behind him.

Nothing.

It's been happening a lot recently, to get the sensation of someone whispering in his ear only for him to look up and realise that he's alone. He's tried brushing it off as a gust of wind— even a figment of his own imagination— but he knows better than to believe that, not when the night is too still, too quiet, and he's far from losing his mind.

He also knows better than to ask if anybody's there— he's seen enough horror movies to know how badly that would end for him.

Perhaps walking through the park at this hour wasn't his best idea in the first place.

Mark stares idly at the barely-lit pavement for a few seconds more before bringing his earbud back to his ear, turning back around to resume his walk— only to be met with you.

He stumbles backwards with a startled gasp, his phone almost falling from his hand before he realises that no, you're not a ghost.

You’re the girl from earlier.

Of course, Mark remembers you. How could he not, when you're the only one who stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of spectators? It was odd enough as it is for him to be distracted right before a match, but there was just something about you that pulled him in; Mark couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Maybe it was your odd choice of attire, the traditional Korean-inspired silhouette of your all-black trench coat that cinched at your waist, or maybe it was the latex gloves that caught his attention first.

Either way, he’s feeling it again, that magnetic pull that renders him unable to look away, and it's not just because you're pretty— it feels as though there's literally something weighing him down, pulling on his chest.

Before he could question it, he notices your eyes lose focus on him, settling on something behind him instead. You’re the first one to break the silence.

"Duck."

Mark frowns. "What?"

In a split second, you're already ripping off your gloves, a flame roaring to life in your palm before you hurl the fire over his shoulder.

Mark’s confusion morphs into a split-second horror as he instinctively ducks, stumbling over his own two feet as he hears the air behind him fill with an otherworldly screech. Still, he dares himself to look over his shoulder, just in time to see multiple shadowy figures burst into flames before dissolving into nothingness.

The sight only causes Mark to fall on his butt, his neck snapping back towards you.

“What the hell was that?” His voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “And- what- what did you just do?”

You let out a shaky breath, flicking your bare wrist before you put on your glove, almost nonchalantly. Almost like you didn’t just shoot fire out of your hands.

Oh, maybe he is losing his mind.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 20

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, oral/noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

Your cheeks are flushed with heat as the server returns with your entrees. Lloyd shamelessly keeps his hand nestled between your tingling thighs, clamped in an attempt at modesty. He sits forward to eat with his free hand as you can barely keep your head from wobbling. You feel as if everyone in the place has witnessed your undoing.

“Mmm, better get it while it’s hot,” he scoops up a mouthful of season potatoes, “I’m not spending money for nothing, babe.”

He pinches you before finally removing his hand. He takes his knife, not bothering to wipe the glisten from his fingers, as he cuts into his filet. You slowly sit up as your eyes flick over to Colin as he reads over the bill.

He avoids meeting your gaze but you’re happy for it, humiliated and hot. You pick at the lobster tail with your fork and peer down at your plate. This night couldn’t be over soon enough.

“Aw, don’t pout, baby, I’m just getting started,” he bites into a chunk of juicy beef, chewing noisily.

“Hey!” There’s a shout and the clatter of a tray as empty dishes crash onto the floor. You look up as a man shoves a waiter out of his way, skidding on his soles as he stops beside Colin’s table, “what the fuck is going on here?”

Your mouth falls open as Lloyd reaches for his whiskey and finishes it with a pop of his lips, “looks like he got my message.”

“What?” You look at him as he watches with delight.

“Tell me you haven’t dreamed of this. Look at the coward, he’s about to piss his pants.”

“Wh–why?”

“Oh come on, you should be thanking me,” he leans back and drapes his arm over your shoulders, “in fact, you’re gonna thank me. On the way back. When we get there. And so on. The night is young, sweet cheeks.”

You look back to the scene across the restaurant, reminded of the night you came and Colin left you alone and nearly sobbing. The words he said to you then and after. The accusations that proved to be little more than projection.

For once, you agree with this douchebag at your elbow. He deserves this.

“That’s my fucking wife!” The much bigger man drags Colin out of his seat. Your husband couldn’t be called small but he was shorter and more slender than the bull shaking him by his collar, “my slut of a wife!”

Those words sting and you tilt your head. You know what it’s like to be on the receiving end yet you can’t feel sorry for the blond grabbing onto the angry man’s arm. She did this. They both did. They ruined two marriages for what?

“Do you ever come here without making a scene?” You lift your cocktail and drain it until there’s only a few chips of melted ice.

“I don’t do quiet,” he shrugs and goes back to his meal, “and I like a show with my dinner.”

You sniff as a gaggle of waiters try to calm the raging man throttling your husband. The mention of police moves the rabble towards the door but not without chaos. Table wobble with the impact of the intertwined man as heels click in their stead, following the fight outside.

“I need another drink,” you put your glass down, “preferably a double.”

Lloyd raises his hand and whistles, “garcon.”

You cringe and sink down lower. His quick response would be flattering if it wasn’t completely patronizing.

💎

Your stomach is unsettled, the pasta sitting like a lump as your anxiety flickers in your chest. You sit back in the low car seat and frame your forehead with your hand. A nice relaxing shower somehow ended in you being wound tighter than before.

"Baby, better keep me awake, you don't want me falling asleep at the wheel, do ya?" Lloyd says as he steers out into the street, giving his stomach a slap, "god, that was good, wasn't it?"

His hand slips down and he flicks his belt. You straighten in your seat as his eyes flash at you in the rearview. You repress your agitation and reach between the seats, bending over the stick as you pull back the tail of his belt.

It's just one thing after the other, you gripe inwardly, this man will never let you relax. Never let you catch your breath.

You unhook his belt and open his fly. You want to get home and go to bed. He's just a man, you get him off and he'll be ready for the same. He's hard as you reach beneath the fabric, unsurprised by his lack of briefs.

You take him out and stroke him mechanically. Men are easy when they have their pants down. Your husband proved that. With his own boss. His ex that he never shut up about. You should've known. You were never good enough and now look at you.

You push your mouth around him, grazing him with your teeth.

"Eh, put some love into it," he flinches and rests his hand on your head, "fuck."

You loosen your throat and grimace around him. You bob up and down, the noise making you sick, stirring the storm already whirling in your stomach. He clutches your air as you ignore the ache in your jaw.

Your eyes water at the sudden awareness of yourself, of what you're doing, of how you won't stop. You have nothing and this man made sure of that. Tonight wasn't a favour, it was just another reminder of his power over you.

You drag your tongue up and down, flicking around his tip. You wiggle your nose and force back the haze of tears. No, he won't see you like that. He's seen enough. You're just buzzed, maybe a bit depressed.

You bring your hand up and work him diligently. He groans and swerves as he squeezes his fistful of hand.

"Jeez, baby, you're gonna get us in trouble," he chortles and shoves you down, "ah, you little slut, you already got me ready to blow."

He takes over, guiding your pace as his fingers stretch over your skull. He drags you along his length and groans.

"Yeah, you gobble that dick," he slithers, "I'm gonna cum and you're gonna drink it up, yeah…."

He pushes you to his limit and his hips buck. He snarls and slams on the break, spilling down your throat as he sputters. He grips the wheel tight and holds you in place and drowns you until you're gagging.

He lets you go and you sit up, coughing as you spit up his cum. You fall against the leather as your body vibrates and you cover your face in shame.

"Please," you rasp, "I want to go home."

"Home," he shifts back into gear with a scoff, "what home?"

[intoanotherworld23]

Love On Camera IV

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, there is mild smut in this chapter there’s dirty talk, and lots of dry humping and thoughts of sex

Summary: You had always wanted to become a famous actress one day, you just never thought it would be as an adult film actress, and your first movie happens to be with the devastatingly handsome Chris Evans

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal my work or publish it as your own or I will have you reported✨

Part 3 Part 5

Scrambling around in the kitchen as you tried to prepare a nice meal for you and Chris. Extremely nervous to have him over, and to think this was somewhat of a date.

Making sure your makeup and hair looked good enough for him. Wanting nothing more to impress this man, and make him fall head over heels for you. Although that seemed like a dream you still couldn't help but hope for a romance to blossom.

Stirring the chicken around in the sauce before placing them on a big plate. Shuffling the rice as you sprinkled some spices on top of it. The aroma of the different scents hitting your nose making your mouth water.

Just then a knock came from the front door making you jump. Straightening your outfit out which was extremely casual and comfy since the two of you weren't actually going anywhere.

Opening the door to see Chris's smiling face as he wore a white knit sweater, and dark blue jeans. His hair perfectly slicked back making you want to run your fingers through it. It was crazy how hot this man could be easily make you.

"Welcome." You greeted as you opened the door wider indicating for him to walk inside. "Perfect timing the food is ready."

"Smells amazing." He complimented as he sniffed around the kitchen. "Turn on for me when a woman can cook."

"Thanks to all those cooking shows I watched." Scooping up the rice and putting it on each of your plates.

Once you had the plates smothered with food you placed them on either side of the table. Chris took his spot licking his lips as he looked at all the food in front of him.

"Would you like something to drink?" Asking he you opened up the cabinet to your liquor bottles.

"I'll take some red wine if you have it." Grabbing a bottle you filled a glass for him and yourself. "Thanks."

As the two of you sat in peace eating your meal you started to feel a sense of calm. Nothing felt awkward or uncomfortable. Things felt right between the two of you like this is how it was meant to be.

Making small talk in between mouthfuls of food. Cracking up a couple of jokes making you laugh trying not to spray wine across the table. It was obvious he felt comfortable being around you.

A part of you was hoping after tonight this would become a daily thing. That he would want to start seeing you outside of work more. Or that the two of you would quit the adult film industry, and pursue another way to make money.

"The food was absolutely delicious." He spoke after he placed his knife and fork on the plate. "I'll have to come over more often."

"I would absolutely love that." Sounding a little more excited than you intended. "I mean sounds wonderful."

"Are you okay?" He asked out of blue knowing he was referring to earlier. "I mean after your session with Johnny."

"Yeah I'm okay." Nodding your head as you looked down at your hands in your lap. "I'm not used to stuff like that, but I'm really okay."

"Good because you and I are going to really start drinking." He clapped his hands together as he walked over to your liquor cabinet.

Grabbing a bottle of tequila as he walked over to you with a mischievous grin. Sheepishly smiling back at him as your mind was starting to race. Surely this night was going to end in something happening between you two.

"Cheers." Clinking your shot glasses together before he downed the liquid. He made it look so easy.

Quickly downing yours feeling the burn running down your throat. Scrunching you're face up making him chuckle at you. You were never one to handle your liquor that well.

He was quick to pouring another one and this time you took it at the same time he did. His eyes were glued to yours the whole time making you feel a little flustered. Your cheeks felt enflamed right now from his intense stares.

"Let's play a game." He spoke after you both downed your fourth shot you glanced over to him. Shrugging his shoulders at the suggestion. "Could be a way for us to get to know each other."

"Why the fuck not." You don't if that was more of a question or statement. "What game did you have in mind?"

"How about twenty questions?" He suggested and you thought to yourself that was a simple and harmless game.

"Yeah sure." He beamed when you approved of the game. "How do you play again?"

"I'll ask you a question and then you ask me a question." That seemed simple enough. "But if you refuse to answer a question you have to take a shot."

You knew this wasn't going to be a simple game. It seemed like he had a hidden agenda behind everything. Maybe he really did just want to get to know you or see what kind of person you were. Knowing him so far things were going to become dirty.

Hearing the rules you downed your fifth shot of the night. The buzz was already taking in affect, and he could tell. He just laughed at how much of a risk taker you were trying to be right now. All you wanted was fun tonight, and he was going to give that to you.

"I'll go first." He stated and you just nodded sitting back nervous as hell. "What's your favorite color?"

"Uh it's Y/F/C." His question threw you off you expected him to go with something dirty. "What's your favorite animal?"

"Wolf." That answer didn't surprise you what so ever." What's your favorite movie?"

"Y/F/M." These questions were easier than you expected them to be." What's your favorite movie?"

"Lady and the tramp." You looked at him like he had grown two heads and started to laugh. You never expected that to be his answer.

"Really?" It really did come as a surprise that such a heart felt movie could possibly be his favorite.

"Shut up I like Disney movies." This time he started to laugh with you. He playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh even harder.

"Wow how manly of you." Puffing out your chest and striking arm poses like a body builder. He just shook his head at you to which you stopped laughing. "I promise I won't say anything scouts honor."

"Alright you little shit let's keep playing." He downed a quick shot. "What's your favorite hobby?"

"I like to read." Feeling embarrassed by your answer but he seemed to like it since he smiled. "If you could live anywhere where would it be?"

"I would have to say Paris. The most beautiful city in the world." That sounded absolutely romantic and you weren't expecting that. "Do you masturbate?"

If your cheeks weren't on fire before they were now. He just sat there with a smug grin on his face. He had you right where he wanted you. This is was the game he actually wanted to play with you. Otherwise how could these questions go from innocent to dirty.

You really shouldn't be shy when he asked this question. The two of you fucked people for a living in front of multiple people. If anything you would have no hesitation to answer these type of questions.

He was staring at you so intensely right now you just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. You were kind of drunk right now, and somewhat turned on by his question.

"Yeah I do." You answered honestly thanks to the five shots that were now hitting you. "Do you use handcuffs?"

"Yes I do." He winked at you making you take another shot. The room was getting hotter all of a sudden. "Do you like to be spanked?"

"No." He looked shocked at your response making you look down at your now clammy hands. "I mean yeah I do."

"I could always spank you." He remarked making your eyes go wide making him laugh. "Don't worry I won't do that to you."

Not understanding why suddenly you were cowering in a shell around him. It was something about him that had you feeling shy and innocent. You wanted to impress and attract him so he would want you back.

"I mean unless you really want me to?" He started to lift his hips up like he was about to approach you making you gulp.

"No I'm good." You answered rather quickly making him smirk at how he got to you.

It seemed like the room was getting smaller and smaller. The longer you looked at him the more you started to realize just how beautiful this man really was. He had such soft looking skin with a little bit of scruff across his chin.

His eyes were like a light blue with a hint of green. It reminded you very much of the ocean. Eye lashes so thick he could blow you away with them. Small freckles sprinkled across his face giving him more of an innocent and sweet appearance.

Chris coughed breaking you from your trance of staring at him like a weirdo. Looking away from him wanting to avoid the judgement he probably had across his face of you basically checking him out.

"Okay my turn what's your favorite position?" You wanted to cover your face but frayed from doing that.

"When a girl is riding me cow girl." That had your heart beating faster, and you clenching your thighs together. All you could picture was doing that with him.

"Are you picturing doing that with me right now?" A huge smirk across his face as he was looking into your eyes.

"Yes." Slapping a hand over your mouth with how quickly you answered that. You just wanted to get the attention off of you as soon as possible. "Do you watch porn?"

Instead of answering the question Chris reached across grabbing you pulling you onto his lap making you squeal. Your hands landed on his shoulders to keep yourself balanced. Legs on either side of his, and your chest practically in his face.

Both of you staring into each other's eyes, and there was clear sexual tension between you two. His hands on your hips that started to make your body move against his. Taking the hint that he wanted you to start grinding against him.

"Don't get shy on me now Y/N." He shook his head at you teasingly with a smile. "Show me what a vixen you really are."

Slowly moving your hips against him feeling him harden beneath you. His eyes were glazed over and all you could see was hunger and lust. Your panties were starting to become wet with desire. The fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit making you moan.

"Yes baby moan for me." He groaned in your ear as his hands squeezed the skin on your hips. He was probably trying to control himself, and not completely take over scaring you.

Although you would have no problem with him taking over you completely. Your insides clenching at the thought of riding his cock right now. Feeling him slam his hips up into you hitting your pelvis.

This felt like such an intimate moment right now. Something that a couple would be doing to keep that spice in their relationship. It felt like you two were the only people in this world, and nothing was coming between you two.

"The things I wanna do to you." He growled he watched your hips moving against his lap. "To have you all night."

"Begging for my cock until your in tears." The thought of crying just for his cock had you whimpering.

Feeling the liquor completely take over your body you started to really grind against him. Pressing down harder on his crotch so it was his turn to moan this time. Leaning his head against your shoulder the faster you started to hump him.

"Oh god." You moaned when the pressure of your clothes and his jeans pressing against your clit made your lower stomach tingle.

"I want you to cum at the thought of my cock going inside your pussy." His words had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Just feel me baby."

His words encouraging you a lot more than you were expecting them to. Between his hands, his dirty words being whispered into your ear, and his extremely hard cock pressed against your crotch you were probably going to cum sooner than you thought.

Your hips moving in a way almost as if you were really fucking him. Both of your moans filling the room making it echo. Thank god you didn't have any roommates or else this would have been incredibly awkward.

"Bet your pussy is soaked for me." Feeling a shudder rack his body at the thought of feeling you in this moment. "Tight little pussy sucking me in."

His lips attaching themselves to your neck sucking on the flesh lightly. The blood rising to the surface of your skin. He was probably leaving his mark.

"Just like that sweetheart." Feeling his hands gripping your hips tightly surely leaving a bruise. "God I wanna fuck you so bad."

"I know you're getting closer sweetheart." He mumbled against your neck. Sweat forming on his forehead, and on the back of your neck.

"I want to feel your cock." You have no idea where this horny girl came from, but you surely were enjoying her.

You were never the type of woman to become this horny. It was different being horny for work, but to be this way in real life was a whole new person. Intimacy was not something you were used to. It was rough sex you were used to.

"I know baby next time right now you need to focus on you." Hearing that encouraged you to move faster.

You probably looked like a mad woman the way you were moving on top of him. Grinding your body against his like an animal in heat. Rushing to reach your release and using his body to get to it. Neither of you cared though since you were both feeling good at this moment.

It felt like you were living in a fantasy right now. Grinding heavily on top of a man that was way too attractive for you. Maybe it was the liquor and it was just making you two horny. Or maybe it was true feelings that were coming to light.

Either way all you could do was bask in the moment right now. Having been a long time since anyone has touched you like this. It felt nice to be touched like this, and it felt nice to be wanted and feel attractive.

At one point you were just straight up teasing him. You would slow your movements then by lifting your hips up and slamming down on his crotch making him growl. He gave you a couple spanks on your ass cheeks making you squeal.

"Watch it darling." Making you look into his eyes giving you a warning. "I will bend you over my lap and slap that ass till you feel it into next week."

By the look on his face you knew he wasn't joking, and you could tell he wanted you to try and do it again and test him. The thought of bending you over his lap got him all excited again.

He did seem like the type of guy who loved to punish his girl by spanking her, and than rubbing her cheeks soothingly with ointment. Everything about him scream physical touch and affection. Like he wanted rough sex, but then he would spoil you after.

Breathing heavily on the top of his head as you felt that familiar burn in the pit of your stomach. Your head falling back the closer to your orgasm you were getting. Chris was close to when you felt his cock twitch under neath his pants.

"Cum for me sweetheart." That was all it took for you pushing hard down on him your sensitive clit becoming over loaded. Your release hitting you hard and fast.

Both of you moaning and groaning at the fact you just came in your shorts from dry humping him. Leaving your head down so your face was pressed against his shoulder. His hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, and you were still coming down from your orgasm.

You just sat on his lap feeling yourself becoming tired from what just took place. Still breathing heavily the amount of alcohol you consumed in a short amount of time was not helping either.

In this moment alcohol or not you really could stay in Chris's arms forever. It was just something about him that you couldn't wrap your mind around. You wanted to be around him all the time.

You just couldn't believe all that happened. Feeling your sensations heightened, and you just wanted more of him. Just praying and hoping that nobody ever found out ,and that it wouldn't come between your work and friendship.

"We should get you to bed." You just nodded your head already feeling your eyes closing.

Instead of lifting you off of him he somehow moved yours and his body so he was still holding you when he stood up. Carrying you to your bedroom bridal style. It was the most sweetest most romantic thing a man has ever done for you.

Placing you under the covers then pulling them up towards your neck making sure you were comfortable. He gave you a peck on the forehead making you shut your eyes with a smile.

"Stay." You whispered when he started to walk away.

Looking and sounding like a lost puppy dog. You probably looked pathetic to him, but you didn't want to be left alone right now. Plus all you wanted was for Chris to hold you in his arms all night.

"Alright lady but just for tonight." He referenced to the lady and tramp scene making you snicker.

Pulling his jeans down but leaving his boxers on so he could get comfortable. Then pulling the covers back so he could get into bed. Thinking that he was going to stay away, but surprising you when he pulled your body flush against his so you were spooning with him.

His strong arms wrapped around your body keeping you close and warm. Snuggling his face into your shoulder leaving light kisses against the skin. Your heart was practically swooning and how cute he was being with you right now.

"Good night beautiful." Was the last thing you heard before you felt the slumber or darkness consume your body.

[dullahandyke]

Ok hi I'm back playing dgs for the second half of the first trial

I meant to say before but I rlly enjoy how pivotal the setting is to this trial!! Obvi they didnt jusr pick it for shits and giggles but I'm liking the tension that the British presence provides

Also seeing susato so quiet in all these opening bits is so strange... susato toss :(?

AW YEAH ASOUGI GRABBING HIS SWORD W SAMURAI ON A MISSION PLAYING !!!! love this guy hope nothing bad ever happens to him

Love how auchi is trying to guilt ryuu over anglo-japanese relations and asougis just like lollllll fuck em... anti-british king

YESSS RYUU YOU GET HIM TOO!!! Fuck the government <3

NOOOO I JUST LOST A BUNCH OF LIVEBLOG BCOS MY PHONE GUCKED UP... anyway I'm up to the handbag thing

God they really pull out the 2-4 despair sprite any opportunity they can huh

'Asougis dream of going to Britain is fucked if we lose this' bro I thought itd b fine as long as he wasnt the lawyer. Was all that shit for nothjng

Yesss ryuu objecting just before the verdict... love him

Love ryuus little thinking face... + his hand guard thing... hes so the thinker

Love how as the trial progresses ryuu gets more sprites .. hes hardly even bug eyed anymore

Boooo brett we hate youuu why'd you even study in Japan if you're just gonna b racist abt every part of it

Also tbh idk where we're going with this train of thinking but its fun

My God is it poison and she kristoph gavins her way into a conviction... kristoph gavinning is when u make glib comments about details of a case that lead to your conviction btw

'I'm sure you've noticed this student doesnt miss much' asougi is showing off ryuus talents like a little pony thay can do a canter and tbh awesime

Help me one of her rebuttals is 'your flys been down this whole time' ❓❓❓ ryuu..... 'why didnt you tell me asougi' why do YOU assume asougis looking at your dick ryuu. 🤨

Shes pulling out the 'your brains are smaller than Europeans' shit my God.... can we like kill her kill her

Ok I think Brett poisoned Wilson and then stole the glass to cover her tracks before shooting him to pin ryuu... we r gonna update her autopsy report

No hang on wait that's such a stupid fucking plan. What if hosonaga noticed Wilson was dead. What if ryuu DIDNT notice the gun. If Wilson's wrist was burned on the plate then surely it was set in front of him but part of the beef is eaten so Brett must have had some. I guess thatd probably be better for alibi shit by having it look like h3 was in the middle of eating when shot instead of before being served but like. Was she leaning over the table stretching w a knife and fork to cut off a bit of steak. Girls gotta eat ig

Love that theres an exchange where ryuu goes 'this is great auchi agrees that the police r fucked' and asougi goes 'no ryuu hes clout chasing to impress a European woman. Hes just like bisexual obama'

Asougi picking up his sword as he prepares to 'pursue' hosonaga's statement... asougi r u going to kill this man

Hosonaga that is illegal

'What does this French writing say asougi' 'idk go to France and ask' hes such a bit of a bitch I love it <3

Also I'm looking at the back of hosonaga's pants when it does the panning shot and why r they so baggy at the ankles... bro hes tall as shit does he shop at the slenderman store

SUSATOOOOOOOOO SUSATO IS HERE@!!!! AW YISS LETS GO

Oh my God another fucking to be continued? I thought this was the last part bro enenensjs so I'm gonna take a break for a bit and then go back to killing jezaille brett dead

[mered1h]

treadmill jaws.

TW: suicidal ideation (metaphorical), gory imagery, crude language

-

You should dig through  My cuts Stained a shiny pink  Like you took your favorite  Lipstick   All over my legs  To remind my body  That im never over, that Im a treadmill jaw  Chewing everybody up  To a stale gum wall  I want you to wash me clean  Cause everybody in this town is  So fuckin mean  Put your fingers all over me  Till i feel like a man  Cause ill lip sync all my words and still be man enough  Im quiet with a punk scene in my brain, so,  Tell me that im tough  While you stick laundry detergent  In my guts  Tell me that im a treadmill jaw; My tongue is so fast moving  And brushburn inducing  A veldt of carpet-taste-buds Its like my lips pucker up to say too much  And say nothing at all  In a dream-scene, my tongue is an underwater-kind-of-silence.     Am i a modern disease or a bubonic plague?  I'm not a narcissist,  Im a fraud               Im not a baby,  Im a god.                                          And cause i know ill lose it all     To the drugs in my head, to my dopamine and  Pudding slimed brain;  A wet sound that hits the pavement  With ideas and  Rebellion                                                                                                 So ill shove these bullet casings                  In my ribs like a sower’s seed  I’ll water it with lethargic blue soap and                                         Sprout quaking aspens; push em’  Right through the skin  Ill be naked  And show off my cuts  Ill be a kid  With skateboard scabs  ill cut off the fat around my hips  In little chicken strips  And my tongue is too loud; churns  out words that cant be heard   But god, i cant stop my fire  Ill shove it in my treadmill jaw Cook it in all my acid  And i wont be a liar, ill really make it silent.  And because i am a poet  Ill serve it for dinner and eat it again  At a big table  The girl ive kissed will watch me eat  With blood in her teeth  So that i know im not the only one with canines  That bleed  pork rines  And girl-parts  Im still naked  my hip dips are raw  And this silent dinner  Chips my tooth on silver forks  And fetus personalities  Shimmering in my stomach  All these calories speak the language of  My red blood and blue veins  Cause now i know what ill eat next My fondant tongue  With poprock taper  My treadmill mouth  And quaking aspen cuts                  Had me  headless in my mulititude of attitudes  Stuck in your teeth  These dogs from hell dont eat flesh or floss sticks  Just menthol cigarettes and  Kitchen knife knicks  I told you I was shaving  My baby hairs at the wrong angle  If they where longer I could make  Them tangle  And because I am a liar I never really stopped  I just picked my hair right out the drain and shoved it in your face  I hold myself like a loose cannon Like mace   And half dried toothpaste  Uncomfortably,  In Absolute,  Comfortably,  In an alopecic  Solute  But things grow back- they always do- because Swiss Army knives  Are infants that you blame on the things that you do   ______     _______    ______     _____________                                           _______    _____                    _________    ____    ___________ ______                              _______      ____                                  _____   __________                  _________              _____                 _______________   ______ (treadmillmouth) I keep a gun in my bed  Cause sometimes i wake up  And my veins are stuck in my teeth  So sometimes i know that i’ll need  To shoot my tongue  To keep my anatomy quiet  And then sometimes  I just shoot my brain cause  Maybe I’m just fucking insane  I keep a gun in my bed  To shoot all the words that ive said  That get me high  Without the mary jane  On my pain  Im not a baby,  Im a god  I’m not a poet, I cant even talk,   I’m a fraud. -Meredith. I am only afraid of nothing in everything.  hi, this is my first post on tumblr so tell me if you like it; thoughts and tips, yk?

[rookthorne]

my chase link is seriously gonna go brrr again isn’t it?

Honestly, there wasn’t much reason to lash out. Nick treated you well, ensuring you were fed and fucked until you passed out every night. Sometimes it was as if he had a competition with himself to see how many orgasms he could pull from your body. You got a little bored while he worked long hours, but Nick had every streaming service possible, and the dogs would sit with you.

the. fucking. dream. 😩

You turned, surprised to see your alpha behind you. Your brows raised at the sight of his navy, cosy, fluffy jumper that covered his hulking frame and black skinny jeans that showed off his ass. That certainly wasn’t what he wore to work.

“Why do you look so surprised to see me, omega?” Nick chuckled, moving to the counter where you sat. He took the fork from your grip, bringing the eggs to your mouth to feed you. “Good girl. I always like seeing my omega eat well. Means you’ll have lots of energy. I want my puppy to be nice and healthy.”

I do not appreciate my body betraying me rn.

“Alpha wants to play a game called hunt the whelp.”

👀👀👀

“You’re cute when you’re dumb, puppy. C’mon, put your runners on. The new ones I got you this morning.”

Amber, I hate that you’ve got me with this now, like c’mon.

not fair 😩

Sitting on the bench by the door, you watched as Nick knelt before you, picking up the fresh new shoes and slipping them onto your feet. You noticed the change immediately. The runners were heavy, instantly pulling your feet to the ground. You bit your lower lip as Nick focused on doing up the laces, triple knotting them so they’d hold despite the weight pulling you down.

that sonofabitch…

Without warning, Nick tugged you closer, pulling you up so you were standing on the balls of your feet. His lips ghosted over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face. “You look very cute, omega. My good little puppy, aren’t you? And good little puppies get to play.”

holy fuck

I’m a good puppy 🥺

You could see the tops of his tattoos, and something about the black ink made him even more endearing as if his skin was a storybook for you to unveil.

one fucked up fairytale…

“You, of course. You get to go on a hike, puppy. And all you have to do is avoid my slugs. It’s simple.” Slinging the gun over his shoulder, Nick approached you, cupping your cheek with his warm palm. You snuggled your face into it, hoping to hide away from the sick game he wanted to play.

Maybe you could join them in their escape. Because you wanted to get away from Nick… right? Yes. Maybe. Your body, mind, and soul craved him. And you wanted to turn around and run back to him. But you should’ve wanted to escape, right? Confusion muddled your mind as you kept moving.

she’s not truly broken then… I don’t think Nick would be happy to know about this…

You fell over the other side of the log, clutching at your thigh. “Fuck, fuck!”

It hurt like a bitch, but when you felt for a wound, you couldn’t find one. There was no bullet?

at least he isn’t that fucked up to use an actual gun.

“I hadn’t finished. A really nice kiss on my cock, omega. I want you drinking down all my seed until your belly is fucking full of me.”

jfc oh-

Heat spread from your core all the way up to your cheeks. He was right. The chase had caused arousal like never before. But that didn’t mean you’d admit that to Nick. It was too vulnerable. “If the pain is so liberating, why aren’t you hurt?”

“Did you forget I can feel what you feel?” Nick pulled out his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Danger permeated from him, but not in a way that made you fearful for your safety. “Do you want me to bleed for you? Because I will. I’ll slice my own skin for you if you can prove to me that you’re not wet.”

SMUG SON OF A BITCH

I hate him

I hate him so much 😩

He moved closer, body encasing yours with your back to the tree trunk. Your breath hitched, unable to escape Nick’s intense aura, his eyes considering you before he got this look – one you’ve seen before – like you’d hung the stars and moon yourself. Your old alpha had looked at you the same.

HEY

DON’T MAKE ME GET EMOTIONAL

Nick’s breath heated your skin as his lips ghosted over yours, his timbre low. “And you can slice my skin if you’re honest with me. Admit to me that you get off on this. You think I’m fucked up, and you’re not wrong. But you’re fucked up too, puppy. We’re fucked up together, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Nick placed the knife toward your throat, the tip resting under your chin, so you had no choice but to stare at him. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll stop.”

the fuck is this coming from… HE HAS A HEART - albeit fucked up - IN THERE SOMEWHERE?!

He was turning you into the same monster he was. This wasn’t Beauty and the Beast. It was just two beasts, two fucked up souls reaching the same point of irredeemable.

fucking 😎

Nick brought the injured hand to your face, cupping your cheek and letting his ichor mark your skin as if you wore the battle scars of his life essence.

ANOTHER 😎

Nick closed the distance between you, smashing your lips together in a passionate kiss. All your thoughts flew away like the birds making their quick escape. As Nick’s teeth sunk into your lower lip, growling against your skin with a feral sound, you realised that you didn’t want to escape.

“Always and forever, puppy.”

I feel like after her slicing his hand, it’s definitely gonna at least stop her thoughts of running, to a degree. 🤔

Prompt 15 about a hike turning to a chase, I would love that to be with nick from clockwork AU. Loved the short thrill of when puppy attempted to escape the first time, but would love to see it with the new bond they have (maybe Nick goes a bit mad thinking puppy isn't truly broken for a sec?). Thank you, I think your writing is fabulous.

𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑

✧˚ · . 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

pairing — mob boss!alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 4.2k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU. warnings — a/b/o elements, pet names (omega, puppy, pup), chasing, hunting, minor injury to reader, minor injury to Nick, minor blood, guns, knives, major stockholm syndrome, kissing, general dark shit idk a/n — thank you so much for the ask bubs! i love it. and i'm so glad you're enjoying the AU! i hope you like it. also big thank you to @lunarbuck for beta reading, you're amazing. any mistakes are my own.

The sun filtered through the kitchen window as you sat at the counter, picking at the bacon and eggs on your plate. Nick’s kitchen staff often prepared your meals, leaving you feeling inadequate. But it was always delicious, so you couldn’t complain too much.

As usual, Nick was up early and in his office, his work calling him away. Sometimes you sat in the office with him when he felt needy, but you enjoyed your moments alone. You never truly had solace, though, as you could feel Nick’s presence through the bond or would be checked in on by Mace, Beck, or one of Nick’s many men.

You hadn’t made a fuss since you were broken four weeks ago, but that didn’t mean Nick trusted you to behave.

Honestly, there wasn’t much reason to lash out. Nick treated you well, ensuring you were fed and fucked until you passed out every night. Sometimes it was as if he had a competition with himself to see how many orgasms he could pull from your body. You got a little bored while he worked long hours, but Nick had every streaming service possible, and the dogs would sit with you.

You weren’t allowed outside without supervision, so sometimes you’d sit by the window in the lounge room and just peer out. Occasionally, you’d see the omegas being moved to and from the barn. Those were the worst days. Letting Nick claim your body on those nights was the hardest, something within you fighting to resurface. But you never won those battles, and you’d be screaming Nick’s name before long into the starry night.

There was movement behind you as you scooped some eggs onto your fork, and your heart skipped a beat when Nick’s scent wafted into the room. You turned, surprised to see your alpha behind you. Your brows raised at the sight of his navy, cosy, fluffy jumper that covered his hulking frame and black skinny jeans that showed off his ass. That certainly wasn’t what he wore to work. And he hardly ever left his office during the daytime unless he had to oversee shipments or deal with a severe work problem. “Alpha?”

“Why do you look so surprised to see me, omega?” Nick chuckled, moving to the counter where you sat. He took the fork from your grip, bringing the eggs to your mouth to feed you. “Good girl. I always like seeing my omega eat well. Means you’ll have lots of energy. I want my puppy to be nice and healthy.”

You nodded with heated cheeks, still not used to the praise Nick would occasionally gift you. Normally if he was friendly, he would have something scheming in the background. 

Just like now.

“It’s playtime, puppy. I’ve taken the rest of the morning off to spend some time with you.” Nick brought another forkful to your mouth, which you hesitatingly took. You were apprehensive. You’d never had play time before and feared finding out what it meant.

“Playtime?” You questioned, voice meek as you wished the ground would come and swallow you up. Nick always had you feeling small, like a bug he could crush under his boot.

“Alpha wants to play a game called hunt the whelp.”

You blinked, giving him a confused look with knitted brows. “What?”

“You’re cute when you’re dumb, puppy. C’mon, put your runners on. The new ones I got you this morning.” Nick pulled you from the counter, hand wrapped around your wrist as he brought you to the front door. He’d shown you the new pink runners this morning but said they were for special occasions. Playtime must be special if you get to wear them.

Sitting on the bench by the door, you watched as Nick knelt before you, picking up the fresh new shoes and slipping them onto your feet. You noticed the change immediately. The runners were heavy, instantly pulling your feet to the ground. You bit your lower lip as Nick focused on doing up the laces, triple knotting them so they’d hold despite the weight pulling you down.

“There we go. Perfect fit, right, pup?” Nick grinned up at you, patting your knee before standing. “Wait here.”

It’s not like you could get very far anyway. You testingly raised your foot, frowning at how difficult it was. They weren’t going to be impossible to walk in, but they also weren’t going to be easy.

The jingling of a bell signalled Nick’s return. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of the matching pink collar, a small bell shaped like a strawberry hanging on the front. “A-Alpha— I—“

Nick advanced, holding the collar above you, shaking it. “I thought you liked pink. And the staff tell me how you eat all the strawberries you can. I’ve started buying extra just for you.”

“I— I do like them. But—“

“Then this collar is perfect for you, no?” Nick’s eyes darkened a fraction, danger laced in his tone. 

There were eggshells all over the floor, and if you weren’t careful, you would wake the beast that lay dormant in your alpha.

It felt like stones in your throat were weighing you down, like your shoes. “I-It’s perfect…” You conceded, too scared to deny your alpha as he towered over you.

“I’m glad you agree, puppy.” Nick placed the collar around your neck, snapping the latching mechanism together so it was secured. You heard a little beep as Nick locked the collar with his fingerprint. Any plans you had of taking it off were quickly squashed.

You stayed silent. What was there to say anyway?

Nick pulled you to stand, and the bell jingled with the movement. He smirked at you, cocking his head before looping his fingers through the collar.

Without warning, Nick tugged you closer, pulling you up so you were standing on the balls of your feet. His lips ghosted over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face. “You look very cute, omega. My good little puppy, aren’t you? And good little puppies get to play.”

The dead, almost forgotten part of you wanted to tell him to fuck off. But your hindbrain was preening from the attention.

“Let’s go. Just looking at you like this is getting me excited.”

Not waiting for your approval, Nick picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist with your chest against his. Even with the added weight of the shoes, Nick carried you like you weighed nothing, displaying his prime alpha strength.

You let your chin rest on his shoulder, your fingers running across the soft material of his jumper. Nick’s scent never failed to give you butterflies, and he chuckled as you dragged your nose across the scent gland on his neck. You could see the tops of his tattoos, and something about the black ink made him even more endearing as if his skin was a storybook for you to unveil.

Not that Nick ever granted you much insight into his mind. He was near impossible to read, and you knew next to nothing about his past, or his plans for the future. He was a closed book, only allowing you snippets of his life to bleed through into your world.

As he made his way through the mansion with you latched to him, Nick grabbed a duffle bag by the back door, slinging it over his shoulder. You were both scared and curious to see what it contained.

“It’s such a nice day, omega, isn’t it?” Nick said as he carried you out the back door and into the sunlight shining across the backyard.

“Mm, yes.” You mumbled into Nick’s shoulder, enjoying the way the heated rays warmed your skin and provided life essence to your soul. Like a plant, you wanted to grow towards the light and let it fuel your being.

You passed the barn, refusing to look at it as Nick brought you to the edge of the lawn, where grass met forest. Luckily, there were no sounds of distressed omegas around, and it put you more at ease.

Sensing your anxiousness, Nick placed his palm on the small of your back to hold you close. “Don’t think about them.”

But how could you not? Nick could attempt to pull the wool over your eyes, but you’d always know where his wealth and power came from. Exploitation. Your alpha was not a good man. But he was your alpha, and that meant there really wasn’t much you could do about it. Fighting against a force so much more powerful than your own only ended up with you hurt. And you’d had more than enough pain to last you many lifetimes.

Nick brought you to a spot you had been before when you first ran from him when brought to his mansion. Where you fell, and the dogs laid with you before Nick and his men arrived. Back when you had a yearning for a normal life.

He placed you down, your feet sinking into the plush earth with the weighted shoes on your feet.

“Are you ready to play, puppy?” Nick put the bag down and unzipped it. The sight of the contents had your eyes widening and a gasp falling past your lips. A gun. Not just any firearm. But a rifle fitted with a scope for extra accuracy.

“What.. are you hunting?” You knew the answer. But you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

“You, of course. You get to go on a hike, puppy. And all you have to do is avoid my slugs. It’s simple.” Slinging the gun over his shoulder, Nick approached you, cupping your cheek with his warm palm. You snuggled your face into it, hoping to hide away from the sick game he wanted to play.

“Can’t we just stay here? I— I don’t want to run,” you murmured against his palm, and Nick cracked up.

“Oh, now you don’t want to run, huh?” His hand patted your cheek before he gripped your chin tightly. “I took the morning off work just to play with you. Don’t be ungrateful.”

“But—”

Nick growled, grabbing you rougher. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘thank you, alpha, for taking time off for me,’ I don’t want to fucking hear it.”

“T-Thank you.” You blurted out, primarily out of habit.

“Thank me properly.”

With no room for argument, you reached up to press a chaste kiss to Nick’s lips, your hands resting on his shoulders. Just like you’d been taught. Nick always had you giving kisses as apologies. “Thank you for taking time off for me, alpha.”

“My good girl. Wasn’t that hard, was it?” Nick smoothed his hands over your chiffon dress. Pink. Like your shoes and collar. Nick said it was all for you, but you know he enjoyed dressing you prettily. Like his little puppy doll.

It certainly wasn’t hiking attire.

“You have a five-minute head start. When you hear a shot, you’ll know I’m coming for you.” Nick checked his watch before turning his attention to you. With a raised brow, he shooed at you, hands swatting you away. “Go on, don’t want to waste your head start.”

You stuttered in place. Did he really expect you to run? The look Nick gave you, with a fucking rifle slung over his shoulder, told you he wasn’t joking.

Maybe you could get out of here. Find a road and hail someone down.

The thought had you turning on your heel and bolting. Your speed as an omega was handy, and even with the weighted shoes, you could make a semi-fast pace. Tension tore through your body as you ran, muscles already screaming from the strain of dragging your feet along.

The trees were somewhat sparse in this area, and it made for easy running as you leaped over logs and avoided thick branches. You shivered into the chilly air, the trees covering the sun and causing the temperature to drop. With each bounding step, your shoes became more dirtied, brown earth covering your lower legs.

The bell of your collar rang like an ominous toll, the sound only proving how desperate you were to make some distance.

As you made your way through, you almost tripped on air. Or, what you thought was just the air. You stumbled forward and luckily tumbled to the side as the tripwire snapped, a big hole opening up where you should have fallen.

A trap. You crawled over to look in the now-visible hole. There were no spikes, nothing to seriously maim you. But it would considerably slow you down if you got yourself stuck.

As you stared at what was almost your fate, stuck in a hole, a shot rang out into the air.

Birds fluttered away in the distance. Nick had begun the hunt.

Not sticking around to find out if he would actually shoot you, you got up and began moving. Your legs were fatigued, and it was hard to pull yourself along, but as the birds that had been scared off by Nick’s shot passed you, there was a new, renewed sense of vigour coursing through you.

Maybe you could join them in their escape. Because you wanted to get away from Nick… right? Yes. Maybe. Your body, mind, and soul craved him. And you wanted to turn around and run back to him. But you should’ve wanted to escape, right? Confusion muddled your mind as you kept moving.

You couldn’t run anymore, not with your legs weighed down and traps around. There were multiple tripwires scattered about, and it was hard avoiding them while also trying to make your way.

Not wanting to give away your location, you tucked the bell under the collar so that it sat between the fabric and your neck. There were still slight sounds, but they were mostly muffled. And it was the best you could do as you needed your hands free.

The further you got, the more you realised how much this game was pitted against you. You never had a chance to actually get away. Nick had made sure of that as if he was scared you would actually get away from him. The forest seemed endless, you couldn’t reach a full omega sprint, and there were booby traps all over.

It had been at least ten minutes since Nick sounded that he had begun hunting, but you hadn’t heard him behind you. Despite constantly checking and listening for sounds, it seemed like you were alone.

You made it to a small stream, and it gave you a chance to splash some water over your face and try to wash your scent glands so that the smell wasn’t as strong. What you didn’t realise was this just washed your smell downstream and gave Nick a very easy way to find you.

The brush became thicker as you ventured further with heavy feet. Sick of the shoes, you tried to take them off, but Nick had tied them so tight you’d need a knife to cut them off.

Sweat dripped down your brow as the sun reached its peak. It was becoming hot, and it made the situation that much worse. 

This was by far the worst hike ever.

Just past the stream, across the path you were trying to take, laid a large, hollowed log. Part of you wanted to hide, but that seemed like a stupid idea. You began to climb the log to get over it.

As you slung your leg over the bark surface, a sickening shot sounded. You heard the whoosh of air before it hit you. An almighty pain on the back of your left thigh that had you howling into the warm air. “Fuck!”

You fell over the other side of the log, clutching at your thigh. “Fuck, fuck!”

It hurt like a bitch, but when you felt for a wound, you couldn’t find one. There was no bullet?

You didn’t have much time to inspect your injury, as you could hear the rustle of leaves under Nick’s boot as he began to approach. “Puppy, come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Something told you he knew exactly where you were. With a whimper, you picked yourself up and began running. Your trudged steps were staggered as you limped on your injured leg. Pain flared through your body as tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest.

There was fear, but something else too. A spark that lit you like a conduit, leaving your body buzzing with exhilaration. This was what it felt like to be alive.

“I can smell your cunt from here, puppy. You’re dripping, aren’t you?” Nick taunted, before taking another shot, this one landing on your left hip. 

You screamed out a cry, the bell on the collar becoming dislodged from its hiding spot on your neck, the jingling joining in with your distressed sounds.

Another shot whooshed past you, only just missing your head. Did he miss on purpose? Either way, it frightened you enough to bolt with all the energy you had.

You did exactly what Nick wanted you to, as while you ran at full speed, you weren’t looking out for tripwires.

An almighty yowl came from you when your ankle snagged a taut line of wire, causing it to snap. Within milliseconds, a large net scooped you up into the air, leaves and bark scattering around you from where the net lay hidden.

The thick rope burned against your skin as you writhed in the entrapment, hot tears wetting your cheeks. Nick came into view, smirking as your movements caused the net to swing in the air like an animal for the slaughter.

You wailed, gripping the ropes as you looked at your alpha below. Nick did always have a way of putting you in a cage. “Let me down!”

“Now, now. That’s no way to ask, is it?” Nick crossed his arms as if chastising you like a petulant child.

You huffed, squeezing your eyes shut. This was a sick joke you wanted no part of. “This isn’t funny!”

“I’m not laughing.” Nick was deadpan, and you were about ready to chew the rope to get out if you had to.

But there was no winning with Nick. The only option you had was to give him what he wanted. “Please, let me down.” 

“You can do better than that,” Nick sniped, blue azures watching you carefully with a mischievous twinkle.

“Alpha. Please, let me down from here.” You hated the way you sounded so desperate - but it’s because you were. Your stomach roiled with the way you were suspended in the air, anxiety nipping at your heart.

“Mm. What do I get in return, hm?” Nick mocked you, playfully poking you with the tip of the rifle so you swung in the air. “Maybe a really nice kiss?”

“Fine—”

“I hadn’t finished. A really nice kiss on my cock, omega. I want you drinking down all my seed until your belly is fucking full of me.”

A shudder ran through you, both of excitement and disdain. That was something he’d never asked of you, always too insatiable for your cunt. But right now, you’d do just about anything to not be suspended from a tree with a throbbing leg and hip. “Okay. Let me down, and I’ll give your cock a really nice kiss.”

“Deal.”

You hadn’t thought much about how you were going to get down, but you certainly didn’t expect Nick to pull out a hunting knife and cut the rope connector, causing you to drop to the ground ungracefully.

A yelp left you when you fell in a bundle of nets, still trapped on the ground as you’d got yourself snared.

“You really should be more careful, pup.” Nick used the same knife to cut you free. He pulled you out of the rope, sitting you down with your back to a nearby trunk so he could squat in front of you. His fingers grasped your chin as he inspected your face, grinning at you. “Glad to see there’s no damage to this pretty face.”

“You shot me,” you growled, anger clear in the way you were close to snarling at your alpha.

Nick scoffed, holding up the gun, which had a little orange tip on the barrel. It wasn’t real? “You’re being dramatic. It’s an air rifle.”

It explained the lack of injury. But it still hurt like hell. “You shot me.”

Nick smiled, a sickly grin that had you on edge. He hummed, slinging the gun over his shoulder with his jumper sleeves rolled up, tattoos on full display. “Yeah, I did. The pain is liberating, isn’t it? I bet if I dipped my fingers in your pussy right now they’d get soaked. Don’t play coy like you didn’t enjoy the hunt and the pain.”

Heat spread from your core all the way up to your cheeks. He was right. The chase had caused arousal like never before. But that didn’t mean you’d admit that to Nick. It was too vulnerable. “If the pain is so liberating, why aren’t you hurt?”

“Did you forget I can feel what you feel?” Nick pulled out his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Danger permeated from him, but not in a way that made you fearful for your safety. “Do you want me to bleed for you? Because I will. I’ll slice my own skin for you if you can prove to me that you’re not wet.”

You couldn’t prove that; your panties were drenched.

He moved closer, body encasing yours with your back to the tree trunk. Your breath hitched, unable to escape Nick’s intense aura, his eyes considering you before he got this look – one you’ve seen before – like you’d hung the stars and moon yourself. Your old alpha had looked at you the same.

Nick’s breath heated your skin as his lips ghosted over yours, his timbre low. “And you can slice my skin if you’re honest with me. Admit to me that you get off on this. You think I’m fucked up, and you’re not wrong. But you’re fucked up too, puppy. We’re fucked up together, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Nick placed the knife toward your throat, the tip resting under your chin, so you had no choice but to stare at him. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll stop.”

The part of you that wanted to fight had long died. Tears trickled down your cheeks as you thought. He wasn’t wrong, not in the slightest. The chase made you feel like you actually existed. For so long, in Nick’s home, you felt like a ghost that would only sometimes become material. But here, out in the wilderness with your alpha, this felt real.

The threat of pain was freeing, and it felt nice to be able to scream into the air without caring for repercussions. In this moment, there was no penalty for being the prey in Nick’s sick game.

He was right; you were fucked up. But Nick failed to recognise that you had become that way through his creation.

Nick took your hand, placing it over his that held the handle of the blade. You could kill him or yourself with just a flick of your wrist. It was powerful to feel the handle through Nick’s warm hands. He moved the knife from your throat, allowing you to take full control of the weapon.

The handle felt homely in your grasp, a sense of security held in the sharpness of the metal. Nick held out his palm, offering himself to you. If you did this, it confirmed every word Nick said.

He was turning you into the same monster he was. This wasn’t Beauty and the Beast. It was just two beasts, two fucked up souls reaching the same point of irredeemable.

You took a deep breath, your free hand steadying Nick’s palm before you brought the blade down to his skin. You just held it there, looking up to watch the way Nick was completely calm. There was no fear, no hesitation. Perhaps, marking him like this would give your own sense of ownership to your alpha. It would make it easier to live in a world where this man was your everything.

He took so much from you. It was only fair you could take some back in return.

If you were destined to spend the rest of your life with him, then maybe you could find your own happiness in taking from him as he does you. Your eyes turned back to his pale flesh before you let the sharp blade slice across his palm. It wasn’t a deep cut and wouldn’t need stitches. But blood seeped out the cut and pooled in his hand nonetheless.

Nick brought the injured hand to your face, cupping your cheek and letting his ichor mark your skin as if you wore the battle scars of his life essence.

It felt right. This was your life now, whether you liked it or not.

Nick closed the distance between you, smashing your lips together in a passionate kiss. All your thoughts flew away like the birds making their quick escape. As Nick’s teeth sunk into your lower lip, growling against your skin with a feral sound, you realised that you didn’t want to escape.

“Always and forever, puppy.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

[comradegeorgemoved]

gnf cooking stream highlights

saw some people say they wouldn’t be able to watch george’s cooking stream because of school/work so i took note of some things that happened (with very rough timestamps. like really rough and it happened ~around~ that time) so they could relate to jokes/etc being made on the dashboard/timeline without having to watch the entire 4 hours of the stream immediately :) hope this is helpful in any way ? lol

quick stats: george beat his highest concurrent again this stream with 307k viewers by 133k and gained more than 10k subs :o

0:00 cooking stream start. cute thumbnail and music!

5:10 starts talking

8:00 shows self, fixes his camera/s (he has two different setups) and talks to chat for a bit

11:30 what is on the menu? a starter (mozarella sticks), main course (steak), dessert (a secret!)

18:40 the first step is to hands with…. dishwashing liquid

20:00 actually starts preparing steak. “it’s got good marbling ? idk how to speak chef they just say marbling”. attempts to rub seasoning into the steak...

28:00 starts preparing the mozarella sticks

34:40 “dont swing your knife around >:(” “I WILL SWING MY KNIFE IF I WANT TO SWING IT [swings knife]”

39:00 “these are probably going to turn out terrible… but as long as we’re having fun, then we’re fine! right? i guess? probably.”

45:00 he puts paprika into the egg mixture while trying to make mozarella sticks........... he throws out the eggs and has to reset

52:00 “that’s pretty bread-y! that’s pretty bread-y!”

53:00 calling chat donuts because they keep trying to backseat cook lmao

1:02:20 dream calls. “you’re the worst chef ive ever seen in my life what’s wrong with you? you suck!”

1:03:00 sapnap calls. "you look cute with that hat on :)" george hangs up on him to talk to dream lol. “i’m ditching you for dream.”

1:05:37 dream calls again

1:11:30 thinks the breadcrumbs are too thick, which is why they aren’t sticking to the cheese. he attempts to “squish” them.

1:11:45 “is there a hypetrain? choo choo!”

1:12:00 dream calls again

1:18:55 “gogy ramsay? yes that’s actually me!”

1:21:13 karl + chris calls “everyone comment if you think george should be in tales of the smp tonight!”

1:24:00 dream calls again to give advice about double dipping the mozarella sticks

1:30:30 starts preparing the fries. george is impressed by a potato peeler. he eats a raw potato later on ?

1:40:00 he makes funny gestures! introduces the ~air fryer~! (which he says he bought specifically for this stream!)

1:44:00 starts cooking steak

1:45:00 “what can we do for 5 minutes?” and then holds up a fucking knife?? i dont understand him

1:48:50 dream calls again. “be careful when you’re frying it’s very dangerous!” george: “he’s FARMING AWWS guys”

1:52:30 HES PREPARING FOR AN ACTUAL FIREE HELP MEEE

1:56:23 sapnap calls

2:00:00 people started gifting subs because dream tweeted about it :) sapnap talks about his new video, sapnap thanks george’s subs for him so george can focus on his cooking :) sapnap also helps him calm down when he’s visibly nervous about what’s happening and is overall just super supportive!

2:13:20 actually starts cooking steak

2:13:50 sapnap’s hot take about sugar cookies: people who hate sugar cookies can go to hell

2:15:28 “i kinda burnt it… it’s not bad.. it’s grilled..” he starts panicking a bit n is a bit dangerous with the hot oil it scared me a little lol

2:17:55 carries the fucking steak with tongs across the kitchen

2:18:00 shows his steak. it looks good!

2:21:45 george hyping up his french fries

2:24:30 karl joins the call

2:25:20 george talks to the camera to thank karl

2:25:50 george excitedly jumping around to announce something! karl (jokingly) announces george will be on the tales of the smp

2:26:40 fit check! george puts his feet on the table to lift up his entire body? also they are talking about boogers ? idk i can’t hear

2:28:40 george talking to the camera to twitch prime

2:28:58 dream calls him to cut the steak

2:32:00 FINALLY CUTTING THE FUCKING STEAK. it looks good!

2:34:25 taste test “not gonna lie, best steak i’ve ever had, ever! ok it’s not the best, but it’s actually really good”

2:38-39:00 ish bad joins

2:40:00 bad built chef gnf in minecraft! cute!

2:43:50 karl: “george i love you” george: “thank you ^-^”

2:44:47 apparently dream messaged their discord chat for karl and sapnap to stop making fun of george’s mozarella sticks “his cheese sticks are fine.”

2:45:30 dream joins to tell him to put the mozarella sticks back in the freezer

2:47:10 starts frying mozarella sticks. he isn’t being too cautious with this too so everyone in the call is worried he’ll get burnt skdhsk. burns a mozarella stick

2:53:00 dream and sapnap heat transfer discourse. sapnap thinks he can dip a fork into molten lava and it won’t be hot (immediately). he is wrong.

2:57:00 quackity joins

3:08:20 george lore: apparently doesn’t care if his food is hot or cold

3:09:15 looks into camera again

3:11:00 apparently dream was the first sub on george’s channel! so he has the founders badge!

3:13:00 karl teases dream for saying he’d kiss george if puffy hit 11k subs yesterday lol. they were also teasing bad about being weird about the maid dress throughout this.

3:14:00 the secret dessert is pancakes!

3:18:00 “will be... like wilbur (wilby)”

3:30:00 flipped a pancake! worked. around this time they’re making fun of george allegedly calling a “crepe” a “pancake”, when this is what they call pancakes in the uk.

3:38:30 george wants to stream with gordon ramsay lol

3:44:10 everyone leaves the call except for george and dream. “it’s just us.. alone together.. with 200 thousand people”

3:45:00 sub count is at 18550 and dream wants it to reach 20k! george is just sitting there getting subs

3:47:20 george trying to take a picture!

3:49:27 dream tells chat to keep subbing

3:52:00 dream gifts 50 subs to help reach the sub goal. again george is just standing there getting gifted subs lmao

3:53:00 ish they hit 20k! george gained more than 10,000 subs this stream!

3:57:45 fridge reveal lol

3:58:45 fit check again

3:59:11 making a tiktok

4:02:50 dream REALLY wants to see george with messy/fluffy hair for some reason???? he farms messy hair pics. “wait WHAT oh my gosh holy cow WHAT i’ve never seen your hair like that. now that’s a good instagram photo.” apparently “it’s a look”... from the end of the extras shirt video ? someone help him

(george looks really good though. this is something best experienced yourself...)

around this time i think they say how can they get to 500k views and they say what if they streamed the meetup! and they say that they will!

4:13:00 BIG GEORGE LORE PLANNED ??

4:14:00 ish "thank you dream" is trending. it’s obviously for the pictures but neither of them seem to realize that.

4:14:30 dream tells george to get hair gel so he can look like this all the time. my god

4:17:00 stream over !

[donald4spiderman]

Ok hear me out. Spencer is dating Reader and she’s always hated that she’s been more chubby/curvy. And one night in the middle of a case she calls him crying and Spencer just gets really soft and calms her down after a bad nightmare. And his heart breaks cause his loving girlfriend hates her body. So Spencer plans this elaborate date and proposes maybe? You can decide if the team have met her or not. I’d like it to be the original team but if you wanna combine the original and new teams together that’s cool too!

no bc my body image issues have been rampant lately so this is personal as hell to me. I work out a lot and i’m fit but i’ve never been SKINNY like i have thick legs and muscular arms andnnfnfjndjnffn so this is personal.

I modified this a bit but it’s still the same premises hope you like it! ***BTW IN THIS UNIVERSE THE S3-7 CAST EXISTS FOR THE ENTIRE SHOW— SO THE LATER SEASONS HAVE MORGAN AND HOTCH.

also sorry this is a long

TW: body image issues, discussions of food & weight, insecurity, crying, kissing

WC: 1.5k

-

You know, pragmatically, that you have nothing to worry about. Spencer chose you. And for the past four years, Spencer has worshipped you every day— again and again. He is the most loving, considerate, and tender partner you could ever wish for. He is near perfection.

You’ve met Spencer's friends many times. You’re not close with either of your parents, so the team of profilers welcomed you into their arms with grace and care. Each and every one of them is beautifully amazing and exceptionally brilliant.

Spencer‘s friends are not only badass, but they’re also gorgeous. JJ, Emily, and Garcia are national treasures— so visually stunning it’s almost sickening.

You knew he used to have a crush on JJ way before he met you. You’ve also heard the tale of Lila Archer, the celebrity actress who made out with your boyfriend in a pool. Spencer’s had an eventful life, full of beautiful, sweet, magnificent women— so why does he choose you?

You view yourself as bland in comparison. What do you have to offer Spencer that he can’t find elsewhere? You don’t have toned abs, slim hips, and slender arms. You’re not striking in any way.

Spencer calls you every night when he’s away on a case. He’s never missed a call, even when he got shot in the neck and kidnapped by a murderous cult. He’s reliable and consistent, and that eases your worries a little bit.

It’s eleven pm in D.C. and your phone rings right as your getting in bed.

“Hi, my love,” Spencer says breathily, his voice slightly muffled by the phone. He’s away in Ohio for a case.

“Hey.” You reply, the sweetness in his voice soured by your mood. “How’s the case going?”

“Good. JJ and I are about to pass out in our beds— we’re so tired.”

You can’t help the way your face drops. “Oh. Well, get rest.”

Your about to hang up before he interjects. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?” You know better than to lie to your boyfriend, who happens to be an expert on human behavior.

“Okay, I know a lie when I hear one. (Y/N), baby, what’s wrong?” He pleads.

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I just miss you so much. You always know what to do when I’m feeling like shit.”

Spencer knows how much you struggle with self and bodily acceptance. He hates the world for making you feel anything less than incredible, both inside and out.

“I miss you too, so much, (Y/N).” His voice is thick as if he’s going to start crying too. “I love you so much, so fucking much. You have no idea how beautiful and amazing you are.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He laughs through a sob that wrecks his body. “You deserve everything in this world. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You are the love of my life.”

You wipe the tears from underneath your eyes. “Sorry for keeping you up. You must be tired.”

“Never, if it means I get to talk to you.”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). More than you’ll ever know.”

-

Spencer wakes up the next day with a newfound determination. The team solves the case as fast as possible, and by the end of the night, they’ve boarded the jet back home.

Spencer has more than enough hours to think about you and how much you mean to him. Hotch is seated directly across from him, rereading the case files.

“Hotch?” The wiser man looks up from his files, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer pauses for a moment. Maybe he’d be better asking Morgan or JJ for advice, considering Hotch’s tragic circumstances regarding Haley.

But no one loves like Hotch does-- sincerely, passionately-- stronger than anything else in the world. Spencer decides there’s no one better to ask.

“How uh did you know that Haley was the one?”

Hotch’s eyes soften for a bit. He clears his throat. “I knew since the day I met her that I would love her for the rest of my life unconditionally. She makes me complete. Do you feel that (Y/N) makes you complete?”

He already knows why Spencer is asking for his advice, steering the conversation in that direction.

“Yes. She’s my world.” Spencer whispers.

“Then it’s simple, really. Love doesn’t need to be complicated and precise. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

“I want to marry her, Hotch. I want to be with her for the rest of my life.”

Hotch smiles, “Then do it.”

Spencer feels the rush of excitement as he gathers everyone on the jet, including the prior sleeping passengers, filling them in on his big plans.

“I need all of your guys’ help.”

-

There’s a firm knock on your door at four in the morning. You know it isn’t Spencer because he has a key, but who could it be?

You take a cautious look out of your peephole to find Penelope, Emily, and JJ outside.

“What are you guys doing here?” You yawn. “For god's sake, it’s four am.”

“We know, and we’re sorry.” Penelope smiles.

“Is Spencer alright?” You ask, wondering if things suddenly went wrong during the case.

But by the joyous look on their face, you know nothing somber occurred.

“Spencer’s completely fine. But, we need to you to get changed and come with us. FBI’s orders.” JJ chuckles.

You change into warmer clothes in minutes, and the BAU ladies usher you into Emily’s car as fast as possible.

“So, no ones gonna tell me what’s going on?”

They shake their heads, “We’re just... running a quick errand.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Emily parks on the side of a dimly lit street.

“I need you to put this on.” She says, holding up a blindfold.

“Are you guys gonna murder me?” You joke, slipping the fabric over your eyes with little resistance.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You don’t have time to think about what Penelope means before you’re being yanked out of the car.

You walk, guided by JJ, for four minutes. The grass beneath you crushes below your boots, and the hushed whispers of Emily and Penelope behind you do nothing to calm your nerves.

“Okay,” JJ says, halting to a stop. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

You hesitantly slip the blindfold off, revealing a brightly lit table in the middle of a secluded field. Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi are standing off to the sides.

Suddenly, Spencer emerges from behind a tree, dusting the leaves and dirt off his adorable sweater.

“Hi?” You laugh, utterly confused by this situation. “What’s going on?”

His hands are shaking, and he has to swallow a few times before he can speak. “I-I uh got y-you apple pie— uh your favorite.”

Spencer walks you towards the table, where a small slice of warm pie sits lonely on the table.

“Y-you should um... eat it.” He urges, pointing at the knife and fork next to it.

You glance around, trying to gauge the emotions of everyone around you, but fail. Stupid profilers and their poker faces.

Your fork cuts into the heavenly smelling pie, and you scoop up a bite into your mouth.

“It’s... good? I’ll pretty much eat any pie you give me, Spencer.”

He smiles, “I know that. But t-this is a special pie.”

“Okay...”

“You should t-take a closer look— at the pie.”

You inspect the dessert, completely puzzled until a glinting piece of silver catches your eye. Spencer notices the shock in your face and catches the plate that almost falls out of your hand.

Morgan hands him a napkin, and when Spencer pulls an apple-covered ring from the slice of pie, you almost faint.

“No way.” You gasp; tears spring to your eyes as Spencer wipes the ring clean.

He holds it tightly between two fingers, bending to kneel on one knee.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), I knew from the moment I met you that you were the most special woman I’d have the pleasure of meeting. A month later, you asked me out for our first date, and I couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous and amazing as you would settle for someone like me.” You scoff at his humility.

“I spend every moment loving every part of you, (Y/N). None of my love will ever stop— ever. I promise to share my heart with you until the very end. There is absolutely no one I would rather be bonded to for the rest of my life. You are better than my dream girl because you’re real. You’re here, and you chose to love me every day— the good, the bad, and the ugly. (Y/N), will you do me the honor and great privilege of allowing me to become your husband?” You silently sob.

“Please say yes.” Spencer smiles.

“Yes!” You exclaim, pulling him up to hug him. “How could I say anything but!”

The dam breaks, and the entire team begins to cry as you and Spencer share a passionate kiss, almost collapsing down onto the grass from the sheer force of your love. He slips the ring onto your finger; it belongs there.

“I choose you, (Y/N).” He repeats.

“I choose you, Spencer, always.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

Nothing’s ever felt so right.

[suguruverse]

hi i’m crying because my bf said something that made me insecure and just didn’t make an effort to help me feel better, can you write a comfort fic about any character lol just reassuring reader that they’re pretty lmao i love you :,)

— BOKUTO REASSURING THEIR S/O ABOUT THEIR LOOKS

includes - bokuto koutaro

a/n - omg bubs :(( i’m so fucking sorry about what happened ugh i chose character that i felt would be the best people to go to for reassurance and comfort so i hope this made your situation a little bit better. pls never forget how beautiful you are i love you so much <33 also i kinda went a lil off topic but i still included the reassurance part and i hope this himbo was able to brighten your day just a little bit :))) if you didn't like the character, you could always send me another ask to just change the character <33

[6:27]

fuck, it was only 3 minutes until your boyfriend would come pick you up for a date and here you were sitting on the cold bathroom floor, your makeup completely ruined with the amount of tears rolling down your face. dresses, pants, shirts, and makeup brushes were all thrown around the ground, and you were sitting in the middle of it. all you wanted was one night to look pretty for your boyfriend, just one night for you not to look like this.

your doorbell rang, but you made no movement to go and answer it. you couldn't let bokuto see you like this. he was no doubt the most sweetest and perfect man you've ever dated. too perfect. so perfect that most of the time you didn't see yourself fit in the equation. he had hopes and dreams that he would no doubt achieve. he was on the fast track to a rich and successful life. but what about you?

"baby i won't leave you no matter what" lies. "WAHH baby you're so pretty" lies. "can't believe you're all mine, aren't i the luckiest guy ever" no you're not. bokuto speaks fluent reassurance, he can make you feel as if you're on cloud 9 and the most prettiest girl in the world, but sometimes you don't understand how blind your boyfriend can be sometimes. you felt suffocated.

your doorbell began to ring at a constant speed, undoubtly, your boyfriend becoming impatient about how long you were taking. through the massive pile of clothes, you tried to search your phone, in an attempt to try cancel the date, albeit a little too late for that, since bokuto was right outside your door. but no matter how much you tried, you couldn't stand up.

you: sorry kou, i don't think i'll be able to go

kou baby: hm? something happen baby?

kou baby: do you want your big strong handsome boyfriend to help you?

kou baby: what's wrong honey bun?

you: sick

kou baby: OH NO MY POOR BABY, I'LL GET SOME FOOD AND MEDICINE AND WILL BE RIGHT BACK

kou baby: DON'T EVEN LIFT A FINGER

'shit', you thought. it seems as if seeing him is unavoidable. at this point you were at rock bottom with no signs of getting any better. does he even love me? shutup. he does. a bath, maybe that would make the weight on your chest magically disappear. the warmth surrounded you in a way that you haven't felt a long time.

you didn't even realise that you fell asleep, you don't even remember the last time you slept, so by the time you woke up, covered by a fluffy blanket and pajamas on, you panicked. you sat up, and drank from the cup of water that was left on your dresser. did i leave that there? a large thud came from your living room and instantly remembered about your date with your boyfriend. [8:56] your clock read. 'shit' you thought. another bang came from your living room and you hesitantly got up to look at what was happening.

you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend, his body clad in a black suit, seemingly setting up candles and your favourite take-out on your small dining table. for someone so carefree, he was being so meticulous, making sure the knifes and forks were straight and facing the right way, wiping down the plates for the fifth time, using your favourite candle that he knows helps you keep calm. you didn't even know what came over you, bursting into tears that you didn't even know that you had left. your cries were not left unheard by bokuto who immediately panicked after seeing your tear stained face and swept you into his arms, bringing back that warmth in your body. being in his arms just felt so right.

"my pretty baby.. what's wrong my love?"

"what are you doing here kou?"

"well you said you were sick, and i just had to come to your rescue, i used your spare key if you don't mind. i found you asleep in the tub and got a little bit scared. y'know me, a big scaredy cat. but i dried you off and put you to bed"

hearing his words just made you cry even harder. he did so much for you and you couldn't even show up to one stupid date. no matter how hard you tried to fight back the tears, it just kept coming and your boyfriend never let you go. even after a solid 15 minutes of you staining his suit with tears, he never once stopped holding you, kissing the crown of your head and rubbing your head.

"m sorry kou... i'm sorry... i'm so sorry kou"

"hey hey hey, no need to apologise pretty girl, i understand, it's okay to cry, i'm the one who should be apologising for not checking up on you sooner"

"not your fault kou, i was just so tired"

"tired of what pretty girl?"

"not being enough for you kou... i'm tired of not being pretty enough, skinny enough... i just wanna be good enough for you"

"but you are baby, always have been, always will be, i don't care about your looks or weight, as long as it's you, i'm happy"

"how can you even be so happy with me, happy with going out in public with me?"

"because i love you baby, and i want everyone to know how much i love you, because at the end of the day, you're the one i chose, you're the one that makes me the happiest in the world, you're the one whom i want to spend the rest of my life with. so stop with these tears baby, you're stuck with me until we're old and wrinkly"

"but kou, i just feel like you could have done so much better than me you know?...someone more interesting and fun"

"baby, are you not listening to me? i love you, so so so so so much, no matter what. to me, you're the prettiest, most beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, irresistable, charming and angelic person i have ever met. and i don't care what anyone says, you're my soulmate, and i would sell my soul to be able to even meet you in my next life. i would give up anything for you to stay by my side for all of eternity, because i love you. understand?"

"mhm, i love you"

"and i love you more princess, NOW LET'S EAT, I WENT TO YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE, YOU MUST BE HUNGRY"

your boyfriend did not even hesitate to dig in, and you were mesmerised on how quickly he was able to comfort you so well.

"baby? you still sad? why are you just watching me eat, you should eat too, while it's still warm, CAN I FEED YOU? SAY AHH"

and as you went through the night with your boyfriend, it never occurred to you more than right now, bokuto koutaro was your soulmate.

fin.

[kurosstuff]

Fluffy Donna! Was requested hehe- also hope it was good? I literally hate this. Haha. Wtf. Also cut it short so I could get it out for you guy- got a bit stressed over this work? So.. take my attempt at soft fluff

Warning(s): angie swears again*once* cause she can and I say so. SLIGHT sexual innuendo(but its not? Someone I had read it over and said it was so-)its Angie. Other then that tooth rotting fluff

Donna Beneviento x reader: Tea time

Waking up beside the doll maker was a blessing as it was a curse. The unveiled lover curled into your side, breath slower than usual indicating she's still asleep, the arm around her moved slightly causing the women to mumble into you, clutching your shirt. In a silent yet loud way of saying "don't leave", smiling sleepily you used your other hand to brush her bangs away-Donna in turn leaned into your hand smiling, melting into your touch even while she slept.

A harsh wack from the head yanked you from the pleasant sight-looking up. Rolling your eyes jokingly at the sight. The cursed side was the rabid doll that yet again kicked your head above you, Angie laid sprawled out like a cat above you both. Mostly cured around Donna's pillow she kicked her legs yet again in her sleep. A scratchy sleep giggle escaped the doll

"Seems shes having a good dream" drawing your attention to the women in your arms, smiling up at you. Cuddling deeper into the crook of your neck. "I wish we could stay like this for the rest of the day" chuckling as you brought a hand to her messy hair- freed from her hair tie, let loose into wild knots and tangles from the tossing and turning of her sleeping- a content sigh escaped her from the head scratches you gave

"Yes. I wish that as well" you started with a hum as you pretending to think "but." Your hand froze on her head thinking aloud, her eye glanced up curiously "what would Lady Dimitrescu say? After all isn't today the date of the tea party?" At that Donna faster then usual shot up from the bed, almost falling out from the realization

-

Two minutes later you both were dressed-after the relentless teasing on your end, you decided to play it safe for now and leave your beloved alone for the moment. "You know love, this is my favorite time of the day, waking up in your.. arms" she spoke blushing from the attempted compliment. Nevermind your earlier self agreement teasing seemed.. to work in your favor sometimes

"Oh? I have to agree" you spoke placing the comforter 'perfectly' on the bed, turning to face her "mine is when the sun bleeds into the room, engulfing you in its light" slowly walking towards her you wrapped your arms around her waist slowly swaying "the light of my day"

"That I have to disagree with" Donna spoke leaning back in your arms smiling "you are the light of my day." Bringing a thing ling finger down the side of your haw tilting it to her face smiling. Grasping your jaw in her firm steady hand the cool radiating off it "my love, you bring so much happiness in my life-"

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT- TELL ME TO GET OUT BEFORE YOU DO ALL THIS" a loud shirlly voice gagged at the sight of you guys flirting "MY GOD WHAT A NIGHTMARE" running out of the room, you both laughed at her reaction separating from one another

-

After getting ready for the day, Donna reached for your hand giving it a gentle squeeze before you both walked out hand in hand. "So what do you think she has planned?"

"Not sure.. she may try to get the rest of the cake from last night" Donna spoke-glancing over towards you with a shrug, drawing a gentle laugh from you "or she could try getting you to eat plywood again" a almost smug smile appeared on Donna's face at the comment

"Oh come on love, that was one time" you grimaced at the memory, one of the first nights living in the manor and somehow Angie convinced you that this 'cookie' she made was a gift from the lady of the house. What a fool you were-you should have guessed but- with it being so late you chalked it up for a stupid sleepy moment.

You can still imagine her cackles after you ate it- the only good thing out of it was that being the first time hearing Donna's voice. Even though it was just her saying "oh my" that voice, the calm deep voice made you happy for make fool of yourself.

Even eating plywood

You still aren't sure how you didn't break any teeth from it either-

"-/N? Hey love are you ok?" Snapping back into the present you looked beside you, Donna looked concerned like something was wrong, worry written in her face but most of all-the nervousness in her eye showed how concerned she really was, other then the indicator of her twitching hand-a way for her to show her emotions through her hands, a habit she picked up before she felt comfortable to not wear her veil "what's on your mind?"

"You" the automatic response made you both freeze, before giving your hand a squeeze she looked away with a slight blush-caught off guard with such a bold move.

-

Entering the kitchen, Angie was running about yelling- pans and water flinging everywhere with a bang. "Angie calm down we're here" you tried blaming her but, that seemed to just wild her up even more proceeding with her jumping onto the kitchen counter, knowing what she was going to do you ran over to her only to catch her in time

"Ok no sweets for you today missy" you gently scolded the Rowdy doll who grumbled in your arms, placing her down Angie ran to the table sitting holding the fork and knife(plastic, you learned your last mistake, no more starwars for her that's for sure) smiling at the childlike doll you jokingly rolled your eyes.

Placing the plate of glazed donuts onto the table Angie quickly snatched two cutting into it viciously then proceeded to mimick eatting it, siting down beside Donna who grabbed your hand gently rubbing the back of it with her thumb, "eat slower dear. We have a tea party scheduled today remember?" Donna spoke quietly in an attempt to remind the doll-who froze

"...did you guys think it was today?" Angie stated uncharacteristically calm before laughing loudly "TODAY? HAHA THE TALL GIRLY WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU BOTH IF THAT WAS THE CAS-" She laughed before choking the fork in her mouth going too deep, coughing it up it flew hitting the ground with a thump. "Ow."

"Oh Angie" you said kneeling down to the child doll, bringing the napkin to her face to dab it gently, from the look she gave-if she could she would have rolled her eyes at you. "Please eat slower or you'll choke"

"Choke?" Angie said before giggling, the same one everyone knew. Not anything good "kinda like how Donna choked on-"

"ANGIE" Donna yelled strained, face flushed. A loud cackling was heard before the quiet pitter patter of footsteps rushed off "I swear she will be the death of me" shaking her head she looked away to watch her as she ran

"She is a riot that's for sure" standing up you picked the dishes stacking them on one another, going over to the sink you gently placed them in as you started to wash them.

Coming up from behind you Donna wrapped her arms around your waist, "Let me help love" she whispered in your ear making you shiver in response. Chuckling softly she pulled away grabbing a plate, washing it beside you. Glancing to the women beside you, a smile came across your face.

The quiet nature combined with the.. rowdy if you'd call it nature of Angie it made life interesting to say the least. Glancing to your lover to the doll who helped you both seal the deal. It made it worth it, You'd never give this life up for anything.

[slytherinwh0re]

The cheeseburger

Draco Malfoy x muggleborn!reader

Warnings: food and swearing

Summary: Where you take Draco to eat his very first cheeseburger in the muggle world.

Masterlist

A/N: just a lil something goofy that’s loosely based on events that happened to me lol also shoutout to Mrs. Deborah, she’s my boss and she’s the best gal ever

“You’ve never had a cheeseburger?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief at the thought of your boyfriend never having experienced one of life’s best things.

“Once again, what the hell is a—chessburger?” Draco rolls his eyes, something he’s been doing a lot since you forced him into muggle clothes for your day in the muggle world. He sure does look cute in jeans.

“You’ll see, they’re the best.” You grab his hand, leading him towards the cute 50s themed diner you always go to as he mumbles under his breathe about his feet hurting and how he misses being able to apparate.

When you walk in you wave at Mrs. Deborah, the older lady winks at you upon seeing the tall handsome wizard who’s holding your hand, looking slightly out of place.

“My usual please Mrs. Deborah, Draco will have the same thing.” She smiles sweetly at the both of you before telling the cooks your order, then pouring you both an ice cold coke.

“Why does it burn?” Draco takes another sip, “is there firewhiskey in this?” He looks at you confused by the fizzy liquid that you assume he likes, he hasn’t put it down.

“It’s carbonated and very bad for you but amazing nonetheless.” He nods his head in agreement, looking around the small diner curiously while you wait for the food. He asks you questions about Mrs Deborah, wanting to know if she has to serve food because she’s related to house elves, you can’t help but laugh.

“There you go suga.” The older lady sets down your plates, both of you thank her, and she leaves you to it.

“Well what’re you waiting for, go ahead, try it.” You push his plate towards him.

“What exactly is this again?” He asks for the 10th time.

“It’s a cheeseburger, with extra cheese, and bacon.” Your stomach rumbles, showing draco around your muggle city really made you hungry.

“I don’t have a fork or a knife.” The blonde looks around the table and you laugh at the thought of him properly cutting up a cheeseburger with a knife.

“You eat it with your hands Draco.” You grab your burger and purposely take a huge bite to show him how it’s done.

“With my hands? Like a commoner?” At this you burst out laughing, only he would say that.

“Yes with your hands, just like all us commoners.” He looks down at the burger and hesitantly picks it up, sniffs it, then finally takes a bite.

“What do you think?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, already knowing he loves it because if he didn’t he probably would’ve tried to avada you by now.

“Oh fuck you, it’s brilliant.”

*

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[vad-hander]

JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

Pairing: Jaebeom x reader

Genre: Series | Eventual Smut | Angst | Fluff

Warnings: break up, cheating, strangers to lovers, mentions of drinking

Words: 3.8k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Your head felt dizzy and you wouldn’t lie if you’d say that everything caved in and pulled out from under you.

The first sip you took was when your foot exited the store, unscrewing the lid of the wine you bought, immediately. It burned your throat, but the whole in your chest burned ten times stronger and you chose to deal with your inner pain first. Your feet walked you through the streets of Seoul, trying to focus your brain on something other than the void inside of you but failed miserably. The first bottle didn’t do its job yet and when you pressed it against your lips for another sip you noticed how it was already empty. The nearest bin became it’s grave and the nearest store became your saviour, allowing you to buy another drink. This time your eyes fell onto the beer, and you bought three bottles, opening them in the park nearby, you sat down on the grass, fishing out the cake you had baked a day before from the bag on your shoulder. Not bothering with the way you’d it eat you just bit into it, getting cake all over your face. You chuckled to yourself, wiping sweet goodness from your skin.

You turned on music in your headphones, playing every upbeat song there was, nodding your head and moving your foot to the beat, right until you felt warm trails of tears on your cheeks. You laid your head on the grass, hiding your face in your palms, not holding back anymore from crying.

You weren’t able to believe it, you couldn’t believe he did this to you. You never thought he’d cheat, you never thought you’d find out about it in such a bad way. You never expected this from Jeno, but then again, who ever expects their partner to cheat?

Your mind went again over everything you’ve been through in the past 8 months, your mind went through your friendship of 3 years, 3 years of you being head over heels for Jeno until one day you became more.

Suddenly you remembered how Jaebeom told you to break up with him making you hate everything about the situation even more. If you listened, you would’ve not went through what you just went through, but why would you listen to a stranger anyway? You hated the fact he was right, but one single memory of him made you want to see him.

You fished out your phone to search on the internet open hours of the bar. The website said 5 PM, making you shift your eyes up to the clock of your phone. It was already three, and since your plans for the day and maybe even life were ruined, you had no better things to do than just come there and wait for him. Wait for Jaebeom for no reason. Just because he was the only person that didn’t know Jeno, just because he was the only person you wanted to see.

The route in your phone promised you that you’d be there right before opening if you’ll walk, so without hesitation you sat up, collecting yourself and walking in the direction of the bar.

You tried to do everything for emptiness in your hands to bother you more, than the new feeling of having your heart ripped from your chest, and halfway to the bar you went to one more alcohol store, getting this time a proper drink - rum. You didn’t know where this rum addiction suddenly came from, but now you guessed it should be your signature drink when it came to meeting Jaebeom.

The familiar by now burn of the drink gave your brain one more reason to think about Jaebeom. You have almost forgot that you spilled your drink over him, almost forgot the way he said your name. Memories of him almost made a small shard of your heart go back in place, almost, because the image of Jeno with HER, made all of your insides clench in pain.

Jeno. Jeno. Jeno. Jeno. Your brain went in overdrive, repeating his name like a mantra. Your fingers ached to dial his number but your brain knew you had nothing to tell him. Your love have died just like that, it didn’t go somewhere overnight, you didn’t wake up and understand that you didn’t love him anymore. He killed it with his actions, Jeno killed everything there was with his actions, and now you were killing memories of him in your head, finding the neck of the bottle with your lips.

From the side you must’ve looked like a psychopath, crying, laughing, talking to your own self, walking in a quicker and slower pace. Doing everything that came to your mind. Now you were free in every meaning possible, why’d you bother about anything?

You got there quicker than your phone have promised, seeing the door of the bar being closed. Not finding a better option than just sitting on the bench not far from the entrance, you placed the bottle next to you, only realising how tired you got from walking when your butt rested against wooden material of your seat. You looked around, noticing how the area of the bar was actually pretty quiet. Your eyes ran over the streets that were surrounding the building, wondering in your mind if one of those roads led to Jaebeom’s house.

Alcohol from the rum hit you like a rock, crawling from behind your brain with tiredness. You closed your eyes for a slight second, only to feel someone touch your shoulder the next moment.

“Are you alive?” a man asked you carefully. Your eyes blew open in fear, noticing how it was much darker outside. Your eyes focused on the man in front of you.

“Jaebeom.” you said quietly, sighing.

“Celebrating your boyfriends birthday to the max?” he joked, grabbing the bottle from next to you. You tried to smile back, biting your upper lip and lifting your eyes up to the sky to prevent from crying.

“No, I’m alone here.” your voice trembled and it was the last bit before you broke down. Hot tears streamed down your face, making you feel embarrassed. You barely could see Jaebeom’s face but he went quiet and you guessed he didn’t want to deal with that, expected.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, calm down.” his hands touched your cheeks and your insides turned upside down. “We’ll work everything out, you can tell me.” His thumbs drew soothing little circles under your eyes making you want to put it all in you to stop crying. You blinked multiple times finally being able to see his face properly for the first time this evening, seeing him squatting in front of you. He probably noticed you focus your vision on him, gifting you a kind smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” you cleared your throat in a couple of seconds, finally replying. You thought he’ll let go of your face by now, but he kept his fingers glued to your cheeks, keeping his eyes glued to yours. You felt your breathing get heavier, but you attributed it to your recent crying.

“How come you’re so beautiful even when you’re crying?” he chuckled more to himself, beating air from your lungs completely.

Your hands slowly found Jaebeom’s on your cheeks, covering his hands with yours. You wanted to make him let go of you, but when you got the taste of what his hands felt like with your own, you changed your mind immediately.

People passed by, drunk and sober, some were just going in and some were already leaving. You didn’t know how long your nap took, you didn’t know how come you got so lucky to be woken up by Jaebeom and not some weird creep.

You stared at each other, both of you being scared to break the moment.

“Ya, Jaebeom, where did you get lost?” the voice of a guy made you jump in Jaebeom’s hands, turning your head in unison with Jaebeom to face the guy.

“Get lost, I’ll come later.” one of his hands left you, showing the guy to leave.

You let go of Jaebeom’s hand when he turned back to you, and he let go of your cheek too, sitting on the bench right next to you.

“Why did you sleep on the bench?” he asked not looking at you.

“Buy me a drink.”

“What?”

“You wanted to buy me a drink twice, now I agree.” you looked at him.

“I won’t.” he turned to face you.

“Why is that?”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“Is that all you had? Half of the rum?”

“No…” You said shamefully.

“What else?”

“Wine, beer and then this.” you listed quickly expecting any reaction from him, but he just watched you.

“Let’s go.” he quickly stood up after some time of silence.

“Where to?”

“Cafe next block. You need food and coffee, and when you’ll tell me everything I’ll see if you’re allowed to drink any more. Come on.” he signalled for you to go with his head and you stood up too, grabbing the bottle to take with you. “Give me that.”

“Why?”

“I’ll carry it for you. Don’t worry, I won’t throw it away, I see that you have a special relationship with rum. I won’t fight it.” he shot you a smile, pulling the bottle from your hands.

***

“Eat up.” Jaebeom moved the plate closer to you when the waitress that eyed him wildly finally left your sight.

“Thank you.” you sighed, picking the fork and a knife, cutting up the pancakes in the plate. Jaebeom took the coffee pot, pouring hot beverage into your cup and placing the pot back on the table. “Hey, have coffee too.” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“You eat, you need to sober up.”

“I never offered the food, don’t even dream of that.” you played with your eyebrows and Jaebeom chuckled at you, smiling at you sweetly for a few more seconds after you lowered your eyes to the plate.

You cut through the pancakes, sticking a few pieces on the fork. Lifting your eyes up you noticed that he poured coffee for himself too. You waited patiently for him to lift his eyes up at you.

“Open your mouth.” you commanded the next second he looked at you. A smirk lit up his face and a sudden regret rushed over your body. Maybe that was a bit overboard, maybe that’s the rum inside of you speaking. Whatever it was, it was way too late now to back off. Jaebeom nibbled on his lower lip with a smile, opening his mouth slightly and extending his neck towards you. Your hand moved up and froze in the air when your eyes focused on his mouth. Redness flashed over your face at the thoughts that ran in your head. How soft would his mouth feel on yours?

His hand quickly grabbed yours, moving it towards his face, forcing the fork into his mouth and biting the pancakes off it. He let go of your hand, letting it fall back onto the table.

“So tell me, what happened?” he asked you after he finished chewing. His elbows laid on the table, making you feel as if you were under interrogation.

“Don’t be a party pooper, I just began feeling better.” you whined, making Jaebeom laugh again. What’s up with him laughing at everything you say? We’re you that funny…? You never noticed before.

“I didn’t know you considered this a party.” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded quickly, forcing your attention into the plate, knowing if you’d keep your eyes on him a second longer you’d cry.

You stared into the plate through the whole time you ate, finishing the coffee in your cup, feeling how he stared at you quietly while you were consuming everything that was on the table.

“Jeno, my boyfriend, the guy you told me to dump, I guess he dumped me.” you leaned more into the seat, seeing Jaebeom’s face for the first time in a while. He kept quiet, allowing you to continue but you didn’t do it.

“On his birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“Right after you came with miyeok guk?”

“Yeah… well, I think technically before that.” you chuckled hysterically. “I came to his place, punched in the code and got to his bedroom only to find a topless girl on top of him. They were…” you coughed awkwardly.

“Fucking?” he asked carelessly.

“Yeah… that. So… I guess he only called me last night to find out if I’ll come early when she was already there, to see if he should make her leave or what. I shouldn’t have lied, if I didn’t I would’ve lived my happy clueless life. Want to know the funny part?”

“There is one?” Jaebeom seemed surprised.

“You were right about the girl, you probably did see her somewhere because she was the one with him. I doubt she is the friends sister now.” you sighed and moved in your seat worriedly. You felt better but at the same you felt wrong sharing this with him. “The ridiculous part is that you really did read through my entire life in a second. That’s really annoying.” you looked him in the eyes, chuckling. “And concerning as well, should I be listening to you from now on in everything I do?” you tried to joke with him once again and he gifted you another smile.

“I won’t protest, but I won’t force you either.” he looked you deep in the eyes. He did that way too often as if he tried to speak to you through staring.

“Would you like anything else?” waitress broke off the silence, ruining one of your moments.

“No, thanks.” Jaebeom gave the girl the same smile he always gave you, and a weird pinch of jealousy hit your chest. “Give us the bill, please.” his voice was soft and the girl smiled even brighter than before.

“Just a moment.” she bowed and left.

“So you’re friendly like that to everyone.” you noted to yourself but did it aloud for some reason.

“I’m friendly to everyone but for you I’m all that and even more.” he leaned in and extended his hand to you, laying it with his palm up for you to lay yours on top.

“Why?” he stretched his fingers signalling to you that he’s waiting.

“There should be a reason?”

“There’s a reason for everything.” you replied, fighting an inner battle if its appropriate now to touch his hand.

“Okay, then my reason is that I’m naturally attracted to you. Didn’t I tell you already multiple times that I liked you?” he sounded so casual as if he spoke about weather. Your hands felt cold due to fear you were experiencing. Was he meaning he liked you as a person? As a company? Or did he mean something else…? Something more? The idea of asking him to clarify these questions gave you a whiplash. His whole presence gave you constant whiplash with everything he said, did and even with the way he looked at you. You knew for sure you weren’t about to forget Jeno in a second and you were afraid to tell that to Jaebeom in case he didn’t mean it in that way at all. Jeno broke your heart and you knew that you needed more time to over-live it than 8 hours. At the same time you were afraid Jaebeom would laugh at your silly assumption of him wanting you by his side in a different way.

Giving him your hand to hold wouldn’t hurt anything though, right? You thought to yourself it wouldn’t and laid your palm on top of his.

“I thought you said I’m okay and we could be friends, now you doubted to lay your hand on top of mine for 10 minutes, I’m offended.” His fingers wrapped around your hand moving it closer to his side of the table. His other hand laid on top of yours and you shivered unconsciously hoping he didn’t notice. “ you’re funny, cute and smart, that’s his loss, you shouldn’t be crying about someone who didn’t only disrespect you, he just showed what type of person he is. He’s a trash bag if he cheated, don’t waste your nerves on that. It’s better you found out more or less quickly. If you need someone to rely on I can be by your side. You can call me anytime.” Jaebeom lifted your hands off the table, finding your eyes with his, biting his lower lip. Lifting your hands higher, he lowered his head, planting a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn’t help but smile shyly at his gesture. “Give me your phone, by the way.”

“Oh?” you asked surprised but didn’t want to protest or question him any further, moving your hand from his and getting your phone out on the table. You unblocked it getting startled by the photo on the home screen. The photo of you being on Jeno’s back, kissing his cheek sweetly, while he bended and smiled into the camera happily. You wanted to change it quickly for Jaebeom to not see but your hands just froze. The void in your chest suddenly enlarged to the previous size.

Jaebeom grabbed the phone from your hands before you could even realise it and began doing something you couldn’t see. It took him longer than you expected and you bit your tongue to not ask questions.

You watched him focusing his vision onto the screen of your phone, probably typing his phone number into your contacts while you were just appreciating his handsome features.

“Would you like to pay by card or cash?” the waitress appeared scaring you once again.

“Card.” you said in unison. Jaebeom gave you a look, laying your phone by his side.

“I ate, I’ll pay.” you expanded your hand to grab the phone and pay with it but he caught your hand with his, making you blush because you could definitely feel the waitresses eyes on your hands.

“No.” he nodded strictly and the piercing gaze that he gave you killed your will to fight with him over that.

“Thanks for food… and for words you said…” you told him when the both of you exited the cafe. “You really are a good friend I guess.” you lifted your eyes to see his face.

“You want to go home?” he sounded disappointed. “Sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

“No, I’m just saying thank you.” you smiled. “Or were you hoping to not spend any more money on me? Didn’t you promise me a drink?” you whined jokingly.

“I thought you’re trying to run away from me.”

“No.” You shook your head.

“Good, i wouldn’t let you anyway.” he stepped closer invading your private space. “I’ll buy you as many drinks as you’d want me to…” he raised his arm and you stopped breathing to see what he’ll do next and he moved his palm closer to your cheek, making it burn with the electricity that was forming in the space between you two, but dropped his hand back down the next second. “Just stay by my side… for tonight, at least.” his hand found your wrist, pulling you to go after him towards the entrance of the bar. 15 minutes later the both of you were sitting at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice you called him.

“Rum and coke?” Jaebeom asked with a laugh.

“I’ll have what you’ll have.”

“Okay.” he nodded seriously, lifting his arm again. “Two shots of vodka.” he gestured number two with his fingers.

“Just a second.” your eyes ran from Jaebeom to bartender quickly, trying to see if he was about to tell you it was a joke, but he didn’t. Even when the shot glasses hit the bar he watched bartenders moves quietly, only looking up at you when the order was done.

“I didn’t know that’s what you meant when you said you want to buy me a drink.” you laughed awkwardly.

“That’s just because you said you want what I want.” he pushed the glass towards you more.

Your eyes ran between Jaebeom and vodka.

“Okay, on the count of 3.” you grabbed the glass.

“No, no, both of these are for you.”

“What?”

“Drink.” he gestured.

“Jaebeom.” you sighed disapprovingly.

“You’ll feel better when you’ll stop thinking about everything.”

“I’ll pass out, if it seemed to you that I’m a great drinker, you’re wrong. I’m not drinking often and I’m not really taking it well.”

“You can chill out, I won’t let anything happen to you even if you’ll pass out.” his hand reached your cheek, caressing it a few times.

“Give me a single reason why I should trust my life to a stranger?” you asked curiously.

“To see that I’m not just a stranger to you anymore.” his hand stopped moving and his eyes glued to you in anticipation. Your hand slowly found the glass without looking away from Jaebeom, raising it to your lips, you exhaled, quickly downing the shot. Now that you were completely sober the drink burned like hell and there was nothing to wash down vodka, so you just grabbed the other glass too, downing it in a span of a second. You felt Jaebeom’s hand move from your cheek to your neck, while you were wrinkling your face in disgust, suddenly pulling you by it from where you sat into his embrace. You fell, resting your body against his as if you were a small child, feeling his hand let go of your neck and rest against your back. Your face hid in the crook of his neck and you couldn’t not point out to yourself how bloody good he smelled. Everything about him was always too good to be true. He seemed perfect to the extent it felt concerning but you guessed it was a bit too late to back off now.

When you finally were able to open your eyes again you still felt his hands on your waist, moving yours to rest against his shoulders to push back a little. He didn’t let go of you, leaving his fingers to burn the skin of your sides even through the clothes.

“I didn’t think you’d actually drink both.” he chuckled “you fine?” you nodded yes and he allowed you to sit back.

“I want more.” you turned to face him when you sat.

“More of what?”

“Whatever you’ll buy me.” you smiled at him feeling a bit drunk. Jaebeom nodded at you, biting on his lower lip.

One more round of pure alcohol, and that’s the last thing you remember of the evening.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Bloom // H.P.

Summary: Healing doesn't happen overnight. It’s a process that can take months, if not, years to come to terms with. It’s been five years since the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of the Second Wizarding War. Harry finally feels ready to confront feelings that have long been sat, growing unattended in the recesses of his mind and soul.

A/N: This was inspired by the made-up fic title that I did a few weeks ago. I got so stuck on this, I couldn't get any further, but inspiration somewhat struck and here we are. I know this is long, but I am so so proud of this, I would love some interaction with this. Take a chance, please.

Warnings: feelings of sadness, grief, worthlessness, more visits to graveyards, talks of death. This sounds dark, and parts are, but there is so much fluff and comfort and pining in this.

Word count: 9.4k

Harry’s Flat, London, England, October.

For the fourth night this week, sleep evades him. Deciding to surrender this particular battle, Harry sits up in bed and reaches for his glasses on the bedside table.

With clearer vision, he turns to the digital clock next to where he places his glasses. He hangs his head in his hands when he reads the time. not even two hours of sleep before he awoke; his mind unwilling to alleviate him long enough for him to fall into a dreamless sleep.

He supposes it could be a good thing, or at least, that’s what he tells himself as he throws the covers off his body and swings his legs out of bed. As he sits on the edge of his bed, Harry gives himself a moment.

He gives himself only a single moment to give into the tidal wave threatening to drown him. A single moment simply to feel everything before he packs it all away into corresponding drawers in his mind.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he plods into the living room and through to the kitchen. As he boils the kettle, he thinks of you and your ingrained belief that everything can be put to rights over a cup of tea.

Settling in the living room, he grabs the remotes for the television. Turning it on, he switches the volume to mute, not wanting loud noises, but rather the comfort of monotonous moving pictures. Harry cannot tell what the programme is; a muggle show dedicated to archaeology, he thinks, but he pays it little mind.

He runs a hand down his face; feeling the tiredness deep within his bones. The insomnia had started in the months after the end of the war; beginning with repetitive nightmares in which he would suffer through the deaths of his friends countless times before being awoken by the sounds of his own screams. From there, it shifted into a fear of sleep, a terror of closing his eyes and seeing Hermione’s or Ron’s lifeless bodies. He knows – he knows they are alive and well, but the fear remains.

He wonders how long he’ll continue to feel like this should do nothing; how long he will deal with the sleepless nights and the nightmares that greet him when he does close his eyes.

However, as he watches the soundless pictures play on the television, he cannot help but feel an urge to get better. To do better and to be better in all that he does. At the age of eighteen, he defeated the darkest wizard to have ever walked the earth in the last century. At the age of twenty three, five years later, he feels close to laughter that he has let his life come to this.

But no-one warned him of the aftermath of the war. No-one readied him for the feelings of guilt that twists his stomach; leaving him unable to eat. No-one explained to him just how long the nightmares would last; seeing the faces of those that fell at the battle of Hogwarts and before as he tries and tries to dream of happy things.

Harry’s bottom lip begins to wobble. The tears won’t fall. It’s been years, Harry thinks, since he had cried in earnest.

As Harry sits on his couch for the fourth night that week, he readies himself to start putting his life back together again.

The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon, October.

The Burrow had always, to Harry at least, been a place full of happy memories. The home of the Weasley family physically exuded warmth and happiness. To put it bluntly, it was Harry’s safe haven; the place he could go where he would find no judgement for his state of sleeplessness or lack of appetite. He would catch Molly watching him worriedly, but she knew not to press, and for that, he was thankful. To appease her worries, or at least to lessen them slightly, he visits the Weasley matriarch once a week.

Immediately, Harry is wrapped up in hug after hug. Molly keeping her hands on Harry’s cheeks as she moves his head side to side, getting a good look at him. She clamps her lips together to keep the frown from forming on her face; worry rises in her gut, but she does not voice it.

The food cooking on the stove has Harry’s mouth watering as he walks through the kitchen to the large table in the dining area. There, he finds your eyes. They remain on the door as he walks through, as if you knew it wouldn’t be long before he entered.

“Mate,” Ron greets; pushing a drink into Harry’s hand. Harry nods at Ron, taking a swig of his drink before smiling at Hermione.

He moves to sit next to you; wanting nothing more than to sit by your side so he can tell his plan of which he came up with by himself. All around him conversation continues as if he had never walked in in the first place. He supposes that’s bit big-headed of him to think, but as he looks around those he classes as his family, he comes to realisation that they’ve all started to move on.

It hits him then and there; just how terrified he is of being left behind.

“How have you been?” You ask; voice gentle and caring as you lean into him.

Harry smiles at you; spooning vegetables onto his plate but feeling no pangs of hunger. “You just saw me last week,” Harry reminds in humour; his attempt at avoiding the twinges of fear ravaging his gut.

You roll your eyes, “That means it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. So, how have you been?”

Harry hears the meaning in your words; he hears the undercurrent of worry in your voice, and it only adds to the pit growing in his stomach. After his decision the other night, it was as if all the realisations hit him at once and he came to see just how much of a bad friend he had been to you all. He’d had been so caught up in his self-loathing that he failed to see just how much you were struggling with it all; he hadn’t even noticed that Ron and Hermione had also sought out help too.

Harry nods; reaching for his knife and fork, “I’ve been okay.”

Even he can hear the lie in his voice, and it makes him sick to his stomach. Thankfully, you don’t address it. You simply nod; patting his hand twice before turning your attention to your own meal.

Cutlery scrapes on plates as happy conversation lightens the atmosphere. It isn’t mentioned, but it is there – the absence of Fred’s laughter and his smile, the pointed comments, and his love for his mother. It is there, and it only adds to the guilt pooling in Harry’s stomach and invading his bloodstream.

It’s as if you sense it; as if you sense Harry starting to spiral, his thoughts turning to that dark place that he so often finds himself in. It’s as if you know; changing the hand in which your fork sits to free up your other hand so you can take Harry’s under the table and squeeze. A silent reminder if there is any.

I’m here, you remind him, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.

Harry squeezes back; unable to do or say anything else, meeting Arthur Weasley’s pained eyes from across the table, and beginning to wish that he had in fact done and said more.

At the age of eighteen years old, harry defeated the darkest wizard in a century. Yet, he had lost a friend he had classed as a brother, and now finds it hard to look Molly and Arthur in the eye.

There is a lapse in conversation and Harry slips his hand free of yours, needing to leave the room before the guilt he’s sitting in drowns him. He smiles apologetically at each Weasley, eyes lingering on the empty chair across from George and promptly leaves the room.

The night air is cold against Harry’s bare arms as he sits on one of the many benches littering the Weasley’s gardens. It’s so cold that his breath is coming out in white puffs, but he doesn’t feel the need to fetch his coat. In fact, he would rather feel the cold against his skin. It reminds him that he’s alive and that he’s breathing. It reminds him of those are who no longer living.

He stiffens at the sounds of footsteps behind him; his hand immediately reaching for his wand kept in his back pocket.

Harry relaxes somewhat when he realises it was you who followed him outside, and not Ron or Hermione. He doesn’t turn, but he smiles when he hears you swear quietly, having tripped on a rogue stone.

You sigh as you sit down on the bench next to him; rubbing at your sore knee.

“How are you not freezing?” You ask; rubbing at your clothed arms, not happy with the chill seeping through to your bones.

Harry releases a breath; it puffs white, “I don’t feel it.”

You raise an eyebrow; running a finger over his arm which is covered in goosebumps, “I beg to differ.”

Harry doesn’t reply; he flashes a smile your way before returning his attention to the night sky and all that he can see of what the Weasley’s own. For a few minutes, no words are spoken between you both. Sinking into a silence that could only be described as comfortable; he doesn’t feel the constant need to reassure you that he’s okay. You check in on him every now and then, but no true pestering takes place.

Truthfully, Harry basks in your attention. He rather likes the fact that you do make a fuss of him when you check in on him because he’s sure that without you, he would be doing a lot worse than the nightmares and insomnia.

Breaking the silence, you broach the subject of Harry’s health, “Harry, can I give you the name and number of my therapist? I’ve made real progress since working with her, and I think you will too.”

Harry smiles at you; feeling grateful for your help but feeling like an awful friend for shaking his head and declining your offer. “I just… I don’t feel ready yet to speak to someone.”

You nod your head, “I get that, but Harry, it’s been five years since the end of the war, and you know how I worry.”

He nods, letting the conversation collapse into nothing in front of him. This is the time, he realises, to tell you his plans for getting better that don’t involve divulging his deepest and darkest secrets to a stranger, even if they are a trained professional.

“I have a favour to ask you,” Harry prompts, “And I’ll understand if you say no.”

“If I can help you, Harry, I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t want to speak to anyone, not yet at least, but I do want to start moving on.”

“So what’s the favour?” You ask; your curiosity piqued with his mystery.

“I want to visit the places where things have happened, whether they’re good or bad. I want to go back, and I want to see them in a different light.”

“That,” You pause; thinking of your next words, “That sounds like a really good idea, Harry. Where do I come into it though?”

Harry smiles at you sheepishly; running a hand through his forever messy hair. “I want you to come with me,” He states as plain as day.

“What?”

“I’d like for you to come with me,” Harry amends, “I don’t think I can do this on my own.”

“What about Ron or Hermione? I’m sure they would help.”

Harry shakes his head, “They’re both so busy, and they’re starting their lives together. I don’t want to dredge up bad memories for either of them if I can help it.”

You sigh, picking at an invisible thread on your sleeve, “How were you thinking of doing this? I have to work too, you know. Not everyone can inherit a fortune, Potter.”

Harry blinks, letting your words settle before a small smile breaks across his face, “You’d come with me?”

“Harry,” You start, “I don’t think there was any chance of me saying no to you. If I can help you in any way, I can. I’m always here for you.”

The familiar burn of tears starts at the back of his throat. Harry has to avert his eyes; glancing up at the night sky as he swallows past the lump in his throat. He should have known you would say yes; you’ve been by his side for everything since Third Year, but the small voice in the back of his mind had him doubting whether you would.

“Thank you,” He whispers eventually.

“So,” You begin, “Where too first?”

Grimmauld Place, Islington, London, November.

Upon the untimely death of Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix had been passed down to Harry through Sirius’ will. Sirius had no children for the house to go to, but Harry was as good as.

Standing on a residential street in Islington, you watched as the house appeared as if from nowhere. Appearing amongst number eleven and number thirteen as if it had always been there; as if it was part of the furniture at this point.

Thick dust covers each and every surface. Simply opening the door sends a cloud of dust into your face; leaving you coughing and sneezing as Harry battles the enchantments placed upon the home after the death of Albus Dumbledore.

Turning your gaze to Harry, you could remember the last time you had stepped foot in the ancestral home of the house of Black. It hadn’t been long after Sirius’ death; Harry’s gut-wrenching screams still echoing in your ears as you had bundled him up in any blankets you could find and sat him down at the kitchen table.

He hadn’t spoken much; he hadn’t even cried. Instead, his face set in steely determination, his desperate need to avenger his godfather overriding any common sense. That night, instead of comforting him and drying his eyes, it had been argument after argument, trying to make Harry see sense.

It took hours; the both of you tired not only from the arguing but from the grief sitting on your shoulders. It took hours, but Harry eventually agreed with you, choosing to sit back and wait for the right moment instead of lunging headfirst into attack that would surely get him killed.

Memory after memory washes over you, dragging you into its grips. If the memories are this strong for you, it was not hard to imagine how it must be for Harry.

You focus your attention on him, watching him warily as he wanders further down the hallway, heading for the kitchen where you still expect to hear Sirius’ raucous laugh despite years having passed since his death.

“How are you feeling?” You ask; running a finger across the now clean surface of the kitchen table.

Harry releases a shuddering breath. “I thought,” He starts, “I thought by coming here it would help me come to terms with Sirius and what happened in the Department of Mysteries but being here simply makes me hate his family more.”

“What makes you say that?”

Harry gestures to the large room. “He hated being here. He despised being locked up in the house that he left at sixteen, but he wanted to help the Order, so he stayed here and let it be used as the headquarters.”

“That… That is a very noble thing to do,” You murmur, eyes fixed on the man in front of you, taking in his tight fists and clenched jaw.  

Harry laughs without humour, “The noble house of Black.”

Silence lapses and the tension in the room only increases. Biting your lip, you can only think that this was the wrong thing to do, that this is only pushing Harry further away instead of helping him come to terms with the last years of his life.

“We can leave, Harry,” You remind him, “We can leave right now and do this another day, when you’re more ready.”

He shakes his head, shaking himself out of his funk but also steadfastly refusing to go. He’s made this far; he’ll see it through to the end. He throws you a smile; it doesn’t reach his eyes and your heart cracks a little.

Holding a hand out to you, Harry states, “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

The room he enters is one he has told you about countless times; describing it with so much detail that as you enter the room behind him you feel as if you’ve already been inside.

It cannot be denied that the tapestry is nothing short of piece of art. It cannot be ignored that the depth of detail to the Black family tree is not breathtaking, but at the same time it is so utterly heartbreaking to see the scorch marks litter the walls. The consequence of turning against one’s own family, you think as you step further into the room, taking in its beauty but also its darkness.

“The noble house of Black,” Harry spits, gesturing to four walls, pointing at each scorch mark before settling on the one that once showed the portrait of his beloved godfather.

“He got out,” He states brokenly, “He left his blood family to live with his found family. He had a life ahead of him. He had my father, he had Remus. He had his family, and it was all taken away in one night. In one night, Sirius lost his best friend and then his freedom.

“And all I feel when I think about Sirius is anger. At how he was treated. He was good, (Y/N),” Harry states, his tone pleading, full of emotion, “He was good, and he was treated like shit. His real family didn’t care but his found family did and then he lost all of it.”

“He found you, Harry,” You remind him, “Sirius found you. You didn’t have half as long with him than what you should have, but he made sure to be involved in your life. After the Triwizard Tournament and you had come back with Cedric, Sirius would not leave your side in the hospital. I remember seeing him every morning and he would stay every night. He loved you, Harry – remember that.”

“And what did I do?” Harry laughs, “I got him killed. Some godson I am.”

“Harry, you are not to blame for Sirius’ death.”

He scoffs, disbelief and derision echoing off the walls. You stalk over the green eyed man, your determination growing with every step. You grab his face in both your hands, bringing his face to your level, “Listen to me, Potter. Are you listening?”

He nods, eyes wide and voice silent.

“Good,” You smirk before turning serious. “You are not to blame for Sirius’ death. He knew what was happening in the Department of Mysteries. He knew that there was a chance he was not going to come out of there alive and he still went in to find you, to protect you.”

“If I had paid more attention to what Voldemort showed me though… I could have figured out it was fake…”

You shake your head, “You were a sixteen year old boy, barely trained in occlumency and legilimency. You weren’t to know that what you had seen was fake. All you saw, Harry, was someone you care about being tortured. You acted on instinct.”

“Foolish instinct,” He argues.

You roll your eyes, “Not foolish at all. More brave than foolish.”

Harry remains silent; letting your words sink into his skin, binding them to his bones. It isn’t going to be as simple as one speech and all is forgiven, it is going to take time to forgive himself for the death of his godfather. There is always going to be an element of himself that believes strongly that he was the cause of Sirius’ death; if he hadn’t acted so rashly, if he had stopped to think things through, to go over exactly what Voldemort had shown him, Harry might have been able to delay Sirius’ death.

If, if, if.

If, if, if. He repeats that word; hindsight is a wonderful thing. If he had done this, if he had done that. Hindsight was going to be the death of him.

Harry focuses his attention back on you and the warmth of your hands on either side of his face. Gently, Harry places his hands on top of yours, “Can you let go of me now?”

You smile before pursing your lips, pretending to think through the answer. “I don’t know,” You ponder, “Are you going to continue to argue with me?”

“Probably,” Harry admits, “But I’m ready to go now.”

Harry lets his hands drop from yours, his eyes running over your face before stepping back. Your hands drop to your sides, clenching as if they wished to be touching him some more. His face feels cold now that you’ve let him go, as if all the warmth his body carried was in your hands.

“Do you think you’ll come back?” You ask, unable to help yourself.

Harry pauses, closing the door to the Black family tree behind him. He looks up and down the hallway; thinking of the memories he has cherished over the years. He had Sirius in his life for far shorted than he deserved, but he had Grimmauld Place to help him discover the man he idolised.

Meeting your stare, he nods. “I think I will eventually.”

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scottish Highlands, December.

It didn’t matter how long it had been since your last visit; it didn’t matter how long it had been since you roamed the corridors of the place you once considered your second home, seeing Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry rise out of the Scottish Highlands would never be something you could get used to.

From your spot in Hogsmeade, you can just make out the turrets of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers. Slight unease spreads through your chest as you think back to the last time you had been at the school; still a student, hurling curses and jinxes at any Death Eater that happened by you.

Reflexively, you curl your hands into fists, your fingernails biting into the soft flesh of your palms. You gasp slightly as the pain; your mind becoming clearer and your focus becoming sharper. Harry’s hand takes yours; unfurling your fingers and replacing them with him, tangling your hands together.

“(Y/N), are you okay?”

You take a deep breath; mentally working through the exercises given to you by your therapist,. Shakily, you smile at Harry, “I’m okay, Harry, don’t worry about me. How are you feeling?”

His eyebrows furrow as he squeezes your hand. “I’ll always worry about you,” He says gently before continuing, “I’ll be okay though. I have you.”

You smile weakly; letting yourself be led through the well-worn path from Hogsmeade to the school. Small conversation is made; Harry bringing up happier memories of your education at the magical castle. The time when Ron received a Howler from his mother; the time when Hermione punched Draco Malfoy in the face.

Happier times now turned to memories; each one tinted with age.

Hogwarts soon looms in front of you both. Harry’s hand tightens on yours, fingers squeezing to the point of cutting off blood flow as he leads you into the grounds of the school.

It feels like coming home, but it also feels like facing your worst enemy. The Battle of Hogwarts had been hard on everyone who found themselves there; it had been hard for students and teachers. You would never forget the screams and the sound of breaking stone. It would be a long while until the sight of dead bodies could be scrubbed from your mind.

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall greets from the stairs; voice warm and fond, “To what do we the pleasure of this visit with Miss (Y/L/N)?”

“I was hoping to walk the school and its grounds for a bit, Professor. If you don’t mind, that is. I’m trying to get better,” Harry states; sincerity ringing in his voice so much so that even McGonagall looked to be taken aback by his words.

She nods; finding her voice but needing to clear her throat first of all the emotion he had brought up, “Of course, Potter. Take as long as you need.”

Harry smiles at the beloved Professor gratefully, stretching out a hand towards you. You take it, resisting the urge to tangle your fingers together as Harry leads you to the Great Hall. “Where do you want to start?” You ask; eyes scanning the familiar walls, lingering on the Gryffindor table.

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, sounding lost as his eyes dance around the repaired room.

“It’s strange for me too,” You whisper, voice loud in the cavernous hall.

“It was entirely destroyed,” Harry recalls, sweeping his gaze over the large wall of windows by the Ravenclaw table.

You hope up on the closest table, crossing your legs as you watch Harry work through it all in his mind. He hadn’t been in the hall too long, but even that was long enough to have to branded into your memories.

“The tables were pushed back against the wall,” He states, gesturing to both walls before sweeping his hands above the floor, “And bodies were laid out on the floor, resting on blankets and towels,” Harry turns towards the staff table, pointing to a flagstone just in front of it, “That was where Fred laid – Molly and George crying over his body,” Harry spins, his finger now pointing back in the direction of the Ravenclaw table, “Remus and Tonks rested there. Teddy, my Godson, now an orphan… like me.”

“So many lives lost,” He whispers brokenly; eyes lined with tears that won’t fall, no matter how sad or broken he feels.

You slip off the table, going to his side and clutching his hand. “We lost a lot that day,” You whisper, “There isn’t a person here who doesn’t feel that same loss, Harry.”

“I was terrified of finding you laid out in the Great Hall,” Harry admits though not for his own good; he’s coming too close to admitting his feelings for you, but this is something he had never told a living soul, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to tell you.

“What?” You ask, all thoughts emptying out of your head as you focus on Harry entirely.

“I was terrified of finding you in the Great Hall. I was so scared that I even hesitated at the door, wondering whether to walk in or walk away. I have dealt with a lot, and will continue to deal with a lot, but if there is one thing I cannot cope with the idea of, it is you hurt or worse,” He takes a deep breath, “The Battle of Hogwarts brought that out of me.”

“I’m here, Harry,” You reassure, “I’m here and I’m whole.”

“I know that now, but then I didn’t and even thinking of it drives me close to madness.”

“I wouldn’t leave without saying anything,” You laugh, “You know that Harry.”

Harry laughs, but there’s no heart to it. “I have you now, that’s something.”

Your heart skips a beat; thudding in your chest so loud you believe that it is entirely possible that Harry could hear it pounding away in your chest. You lean in, hiding your face in Harry’s shoulder – a rare moment of tenderness from both of you. Harry’s hand slips from yours to wrap around your waist, holding you to his body.

Hiding your smile in Harry’s shoulder, you murmur as loud as you dare, “You have me now, Harry. You have me forever.”

Neither of you make it further around the grounds of the castle; sticking to its interiors, wandering the corridors when students are firmly placed in classrooms, not wanting to be a distraction to their education.

Harry’s words continue to play through your mind; how he would not be able to cope if he lost you too. It makes this all more important for you, helping him come to terms with what he has experienced in such a short amount of time.

However, a small part of you rejoices in his admission, the words echoing in your head with a hint of hope. A hope that Harry may feel the same as you after all.

Hogwarts is left with a wave to McGonagall and a promise to write soon. Harry’s muscles relax the further he gets from the castle; the tension leeching away as he breathes in fresh air and Hogsmeade comes into view. He adored Hogwarts; it was his home, but he had to admit that it would be a while before he could face the whole castle without wanting to scream at the walls.

It’s a start however, Harry thinks as he grabs your hands and apparates the two of you back to his flat. It’s a start, he thinks, and now for the rest of it.

Little Hangleton, England, January.

Little Hangleton resides six miles from its paired village Great Hangleton. Little Hangleton was very much a village that was powered through gossip; the rumour mill only grew upon the deaths of the Riddle family. By the time an arrest had been made, the town had become judge, jury and executioner – sentencing poor Frank Bryce to a life of social exclusion even after being proven innocent.

Little Hangleton is made up of one main high street; five or six shops with a pub near the middle. It has a small village green where the local cricket team likes to practice every Saturday morning. It isn’t an extraordinary village; plain in comparison to other dwellings, but it’s history with the Riddle family would go down in wizarding lore until the end of days.

Harry continues to hold onto your hand long after you apparate into the village, landing in side street rather than in the high street as not to attract too much attention from the villagers. You refuse to be the first to let go; admitting to yourself that you rather like the way his hands fits in yours, how it feels like a steady anchor holding you in place.

Taking one look at the dark haired man next to you, you knew in your gut that this was going to be a hard day for him. Harry doesn’t talk about his nightmares often, but form what he has told you, this picturesque village features enough that you can see the tension line Harry’s jawline.

Nudging his shoulder, you smile softly, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Harry���s hand tightens on yours. He doesn’t reply verbally; nods his head and focuses on finding his destination. He can’t verbalise his gratefulness; he cannot put it into words just what this means to him because Harry is fairly certain there are no words to cover the scope of what he feels for you in this very moment.

He knew he was asking a lot of you to keep doing this; to visit these places and relive his darkest times with him. He knew it affected you more than you admitted, but he still was selfishly grateful you choose to come every time.

He thinks that he wouldn’t have been as half as productive with his feelings if it wasn’t for you. Harry’s feelings for you only having grown through these visits; he remains in awe of you, as he always has been, but now he can no longer deny himself the depth of his love for you. To deny himself that would be a grievous crime.

However, even Harry is aware that he is nowhere ready to confront the idea of a relationship. In the last few months, he has only been able to accept that Sirius’ death and your injuries at the Battle of Hogwarts were not his fault.

He has to keep working on himself; he has to keep healing so he can be worthy of a love like his parents had.

So for now, Harry is more than content to hold your hand with each apparition, to savour the way your hand fits in his perfectly and how each squeeze of your fingers sets his heart racing.

For now, Harry is happy to remain in the throes of puppy love, but still eager for the day when he can proclaim his love for you in the hopes that you feel the same.

Such thoughts are thrown out of his head when his eyes catch the sign for graveyard. His steps falter, before coming to a brief stop by the sign. Your free hand touches his arm and Harry turns to you, seeing the question reflected in your eyes.

“Are you ready?” He asks, voicing the unspoken question.

You nod, “Ready when you are.”

The graveyard looks just as it did all those years ago; dark and miserable.

You shiver as Harry pushes open the creaky metal gate. He holds the gate open for you out of politeness, but he does not return your smile of gratitude. Harry keeps his facial expression neutral as he turns to face the memories that still plague him all these years later.

His eyes run over the gravestones as he puts one wary foot in front of the other. You follow behind him timidly, footsteps slower as you too read over the names written in marble, granite, limestone.

It doesn’t take long to find the place. Harry’s feet take him there automatically despite the fact that the last time he was here, he had been apparated in and did not walk out.

The Reaper stands proudly among the gravestones; his scythe crossed against his body in readiness. Harry stills, coming to a stop in front of it. He tilts his face; staring into the faceless stone hood of the figure that had him trapped like prey all those years ago.

Harry doesn’t turn from the figure as he points directly behind him. “That is where he killed Cedric,” He states bluntly, hearing the thud the Hufflepuff’s body made as he landed lifeless at Harry’s side.

Your eyes leave Harry; body tensing as you make eye contact with the patch of grass that would be the last thing to touch Cedric’s body.

Harry finally turns; gaining control of the anger and upset that had been raging in his body since landing at the graveyard gates. He needs to approach this carefully; he needs to approach all of this carefully, so he doesn’t fall back into the dark pit he found himself in months ago.

Harry gestures to the centre of the small copse and then to the Reaper, “That is where I had to watch as Voldemort rose again.”

“Oh Harry…” You whisper, voice breaking as you say his name.

Harry’s eyes shutter closed, and his bottom lip begins to wobble. He had been fourteen years old; he had not had his first kiss and yet, he had to duel the darkest wizard to have been produced in a century.

“I thought I was going to die that night,” He confesses after a moment; opening his eyes to once again focus on the faceless depiction of Death himself. “I thought I was going to die, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

Resolve steels your nerves and once again, your feet find their way to Harry.

“You did make it out, Harry. You made it out alive.”

“Two of us went in, (Y/N).”

“It can’t be ignored,” You start, “Cedric’s death was an utter tragedy; completely unexpected and blindsided everyone in the school, but you cannot blame yourself for this, Harry. Cedric died at the hands of a madman – not you.”

“I could have done something!” He screams, finally losing all grip on his temper, “I should have done something. Instead, as Wormtail murdered Cedric, all I did was shout his name as if it was going to help. I did nothing, I as good as murdered him.”

Breath leaves your body in one fell swoop; you had never seen Harry like this. He runs both hands through his hair in frustration as he tries to get a hold on his temper, reigning it in. You remain silent as Harry works to control himself; you watch him pace the small copse, flattening the green grass under his feet.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispers, breaking the silence, “I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

“Harry,” You sigh, “I am more than capable of handling you shouting at me.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong though, and I just take everything out on you.”

You laugh, short and sweet, “I think this is the first time you’ve ever shouted at me, Potter.”

He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I try not to make a habit of shouting at my friends,” Harry states, throwing you a look that states the obvious.

Wringing your hands together, you brace yourself for your next words. Meeting Harry’s stare, fixing your gaze on him, you politely demand, “Tell me more about that night, Harry.”

So he does.

It comes rushing out of him in a torrent; words flying so fast that his speech gets muddled up and he sometimes has to say his sentences again. For so long he has been holding this in; there are very few people who know what happened that night in this very graveyard and out of those, many are dead or imprisoned so Harry has been left to deal with the pain.

It feels like a confession. It feels as if he is seeking forgiveness from his crimes; seeking repentance from a priest of his choosing because he needs to get it out, he needs to know whether penance is possible for the sins committed that night.

Harry feels as if a weight is being lifted off his chest as he tells you about duelling Voldemort and the spell that had taken place beforehand. Harry seeks solace in your comforting gaze and reassuring smile as his voice breaks when he speaks of his parents, not having seen them in any physical form since that night with the Mirror of Erised.

Once he starts, he finds it hard to stop. He stutters over his feelings over Cedric’s death, pausing once in a while to let you interject a thought and for the first time since starting this exercise, since asking you to come along with him, Harry feels as if it is starting to work.

Eventually, his voice falls quiet as does his mind.

“How do you feel?” You ask; an expected question that accompanies each location visited.

Harry nods, “Better. Happy to have finally said what happened that night.”

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell you.”

“I trust you with my life,” He states honestly and plainly.

You bite your lip, averting your gaze to wander across the dark graveyard once more before finally turning to face Harry. “Are you ready?”

Harry nods: more than happy to leave this place and never return. What happened in Little Hangleton will always remain a heartbreaking tragedy; a life cruelly taken before it even got the chance to begin. The village would always be stained with such misfortune, but now, Harry feels that part of his life come to a close.  

As Harry reaches for your hand, readying himself to apparate you back to your flat, his heart soars at the words you utter with conviction.

“You’re a good man, Harry.”

--------

Landing back at his flat, Harry takes a seat on his couch and hangs in his head in his hands. He had dropped you off at your flat; needing to be alone to deal with the emotions that had been threatening to suffocate him from the inside out. Whilst Harry had accepted that he played no part in Cedric’s death, he still had to confront the magnitude of what had happened to himself.

It hits him all at once; the scale of what he had been through throughout his education. From the ages of eleven to eighteen, Harry hadn’t seen a school year through without injury or battle. It’s as he sits there that he realises the extent to which he was used by the headmaster he looked up to; used as a pawn to further the game of chess being played by Dumbledore and Voldemort.

The waves never cease; his parents, Sirius, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, and Cedric.

No tears fall; he isn’t sure he has the capacity to cry anymore. Tears haven’t fallen since they fell out relief for the end of the war, but out of sadness for the deaths of Fred, Remus, and Tonks.

Sitting on his couch, shivers overtake his body. His teeth chattering as he reaches for the blanket kept across the back of his couch, wrapping it around his shoulders. Harry bites back the scream that is slowly crawling up his throat; he pushes it down as he fights for control of his mind.

Collecting his thoughts, Harry comes to a conclusion.

He needs to return to where it all began.

Godric’s Hollow, West Country, England, March.

Spring blooms real and true, and Harry feels ready enough to return to Godric’s Hollow. Harry could count on one hand how many times he has stepped foot in the village his parents once called home. He had been born in Godric’s Hollow; at the end of July to two loving parents who adored him just as much as they adored each other.

Out of respect for James and Lily Potter – murdered at the age of twenty-one – the house in which they lived had never been repaired. The thatched roof remains caved in; a large hole in the middle of it, letting the elements now batter the house.

It had been twenty-two years since Harry had stepped foot inside the house he was born in. It had been five years since he stood outside of it with Hermione; only beginning to feel the grief for the parents he never truly knew.

It was this that had plagued Harry from the moment he turned eleven and arrived at Hogwarts. How does he grieve for those he never truly knew?

As crass as it is to say, Harry didn’t know his parents outside his need for food, comfort, and love. The memories of his mother and father are so clouded; he can no longer tell whether they are his own or whether he’s simply simulated a story told to him by family friends.

He was fifteen months old when they were murdered. He was fifteen months old and barely aware of his own shadow.

Whilst he hadn’t visited the house much – it being too painful to see the sight of his parent’s murder – he had visited their graves in the years that have passed.

With you in tow, Harry leads you down the worn, familiar path. He slows his pace every now and then; warning you of an upcoming dip that may make you lose your balance.

All too soon, however, you stand in front of the grave of James and Lily Potter.

Quietly, he asks, “How do I grieve my parents when I never knew them?”

Your heart breaks for him; unable to stop yourself, you wrap an arm around his waist offering any form of comfort you can. Shakily, you answer, “I guess you can mourn what could have been or you grieve the fact that they were so young. Either way, Harry, they’re never going to leave you.”

“I know that,” He whispers; gaze fixed on the grave of his parents, “All I know of them is what I’ve been told. I feel as if my memories have been tainted, and I know that they all mean well, but sometimes-”

He cuts himself off with a huff; kneeling down and drawing out his wand. Silently, Harry conjures a bouquet of Orchids, Chrysanthemums and Lilies and then bows his head in silent prayer, continuing to grieve the parents he would never know.

You place your hand on his shoulder, “Sometimes you what, Harry?”

He sighs, “Sometimes I wish they would stop. I was so young when they died – any memories I have of them are practically gone but sometimes I have these flashes. I have no idea whether they’re real or not, but I feel as if they are. Yet, when friends tell me stories of what it was like to go to school with them or to fight alongside them, it’s like they’re pushing they’re version of James and Lily Potter onto me. Does that make sense?”

Squeezing his shoulder, you answer, “It makes perfect sense. The James and Lily you knew is different from what Sirius knew or what McGonagall knew.”

“I just worry that the more stories I hear, the quicker I lose what I know of them.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, Harry.”

“You don’t?” He asks, shifting to his feet and facing you.

You shake your head, “I don’t. I think you’re going to remember your parents for the rest of your life; their morals and values make up yours, Harry. You might not think, but you are a lot more like them than you realise.”

Harry bows his head, feeling the familiar burn of tears at the back of his throat. He clamps his mouth shut, begging the feeling to go away. Quietly, almost ashamedly, Harry asks, “Do you think they would be proud of me?”

Then and there, your heart breaks, cleaving itself in two for the man standing before you. It’s the only dream of a child; to make their parents proud, but what about children who do not have parents – who grew up in a home that did not cherish them like it should have?

Silver lines your eyes; tears threatening to make an appearance as you reach for Harry’s hands, pulling him into a hug. Against his shoulder, you state with conviction, “They would be extremely proud of you, Harry. So proud of you it would shine out of them.”

Harry sniffles; ducking down somewhat to tuck his head against your neck, hiding his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. From the outside, it looks as if two lovers are embracing, unable to keep their hands off the other for too long. However, you know that Harry is trying his best to maintain his composure, to try and gets to grips with the emotions that follow never knowing the ones who were supposed to raise you.

Minutes pass and neither of you move; neither of you willing to be the one to break this moment, but for the day to progress, you need to step away from the only man you have ever loved.

Releasing Harry, you send what you hope is a reassuring smile in his direction, “Come on, Harry,” You prompt, “Show me the rest of Godric’s Hollow?”

Framing it as a question, you offer Harry the choice. He is in control of this moment; h can choose whether he shows you the rest of the wizarding village or whether the two of you apparate back to his flat and spend the rest of the day mooching about.

Harry smiles: it’s watery, but fixed as he nods, stepping around you to lead you out of the graveyard.

Hands brush every now and then as the both of you wander back to the high street. A simple brush of hands, a simple twitch of fingers and your heart would start to race, practically shouting for Harry to take your hand and tangle your fingers together.

“I think I’m going to live here,” Harry murmurs; eyes scanning the high street.

“Are you sure?” You ask; worried not only for the fact that you may miss him while you remain in London, but also for any potential setback this may cause him.

Harry nods; his eyes now focused on a small café straight across the road from where you stand. He gestures towards it with an open hand, “Let me explain over some food.”

The bell above the door tinkles as you follow Harry inside. He chooses a table on the left hand side of the shop; sitting at the seat that faces the window and the door. It’s with stark realisation that you come to see that he’s chosen this exact spot so he can have eyes on each entrance and exit point.

You sigh as you sit across from him; old habits die hard, you guess.

Menus are placed in front of you by a teenaged witch looking as if she would rather be anywhere else but here. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in Harry’s form; the menu in her hand shaking as she places it down before him.

You bite your lip to repress the ever-growing smile on your face as you watch the waitress grow flustered under Harry’s smile and green eyes. She walks away in a daze after having taken your drink orders – coffee for Harry, Yorkshire Tea for you.

You shake your head fondly at the young witches departing figure; noting how she bumps into numerous tables before making it safely to the kitchen. Harry follows your gaze, wanting to know what’s taken your attention from him, “What is it?”

You shift your gaze back to the wizard, “You still don’t see the effect you have on people, do you?”

Harry frowns; his hand reaching up to touch his forehead self-consciously. He had grown his hair longer in order to cover the scar that mars the centre of his forehead; his black hair now fell around his head in curls he didn’t know he had until you had found an old picture of his father. The glasses and the curls along with the smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts; he was the spit image of his father.

“Not your scar, Harry, nor your name. I meant how you look; you have to know you’re handsome.”

Blush paints Harry’s cheeks as your words settle. The last thing he expected from today was to be told he was attractive; least of all, from you. He’s never had the chance before; to act upon his feelings for you. He realised just what he felt for you at the end of Sixth Year, and then the war happened, and he absolutely refused to let anything happen to you. He couldn’t tell you his feelings for you should it put a target on your back, and if anything happened to you, he would never forgive himself.

He laughs, shaking his head, “You’re a flatterer.”

You hold your hands up in playful surrender, “Only speaking the truth. You’ll see it one day.”

“One day,” He promises; eyes earnest as they gaze into yours.

It’s too much; just like that, it’s too much and you have to avert your stare before you end up blurting your inner most thoughts and scaring him away for good. Clearing your throat, you wait for the teenage waitress to place your drinks in front of you before you change the subject, “Why do you want to move here?”

Harry shrugs, picking up his coffee and taking a long drink, thinking over his words. “I think,” He begins, “I want to be close to them, but I also want to start carving out my life properly and this place is so peaceful. It’s so peaceful and it’s beautiful. I think it’s one of those places that if I don’t move here now, I’ll still move later on.”

You nod, “I get that. It is gorgeous here.”

Harry hums, “I’d still be in London every week.”

“You’d commute?” You ask, puzzled in terms of train schedules.

Harry barks out a laugh that turns into silent shaking of his shoulders as the teenage waitress returns, her pad in hand as she waits for your food order. Harry continues to repress his laughter throughout his order. As the waitress walks away, you fix Harry with an unimpressed stare. “Are you going to let me in on the joke?”

Harry smiles at you; as in, he really smiles at you. He beams as he whispers somewhat in awe, “I love you. You’re one of the smartest witches I know, and you still forget about the fact that we can apparate.”

You reel back in your chair, knees knocking into the table as the air leaves your body in a single breath. “What? What did you say first?”

Harry’s smile, if possible, grows as he shrugs his shoulders, “I love you.”

“Since when?” You demand, wondering how on earth he could discuss something as important as this as nonchalantly as one would discuss the weather.

“Sixth Year,” He confesses, blush beginning to paint his cheeks.

“That long?” You ask, voice hushed, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Harry finally frowns, finger tracing the lip of his coffee cup, “There was a war, and then I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.”

Of course he wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to confess his love for you, you admonish yourself. He had defeated the Dark lord and then had to cope with the survival guilt for years. It had only been in the last year that he finally let himself let go of the guilt surrounding the casualties of war.

“I love you too,” You admit, chewing on the inside of your cheek from nerves.

“You do?” Harry asks, about as breathless as you were when he confessed only moments ago.

“I do,” You confirm, smiling.

It isn’t much in the way of confessions, but the look on Harry’s face says it all. His green eyes remain bright and the smile wide on his face even as the waitress returns with your food. He looks as if no wrong could be done in that moment; the food could be the worst he has ever eaten but it wouldn’t matter.

You love him.

You love him as he loves you, and suddenly it all makes sense. His motivations through the war; not only wanting to rid the world of Voldemort but wanting to secure a safe future in which he can love you.

The food is eaten quickly; the both of you rushing to make it outside where you can talk more, and in private.

The bill is paid. The waitress wanders back to the till; stunned at the sight of Harry’s smile – and you couldn’t blame her.

Harry stands from his seat, reaching for his jacket and waiting patiently for you. Electricity thrums between you; holding promises of more to come, the headiness of it having you gripping the table tightly as you rise to your feet. One look at Harry’s face and you know he’s feeling it too.

Pausing outside the small café, you hold your hand out for Harry to take.

A soft breeze blows through Godric’s Hollow, disturbing your hair and the trees around you. Harry holds onto your hand tightly as the both of you begin to wander down the high street; the blossoms of the trees fluttering around you as they fall to the floor. Harry inhales deeply; the floral of the blossoms mixed with the sweetness of your perfume providing the perfect backdrop to his future.

Harry’s Flat, London, England, September.

Healing is a process. It is neither quick nor slow; it follows its own pace.

Through this process, Harry has realised that he is in fact getting better. He has his bad days; days where he seldom leaves his bedroom and refuses to stare at anything but the wall.

However, those days are becoming scarcer. Harry can sometimes go weeks before he has an episode that leaves him bedbound, and for that, he is proud of himself.

He doesn’t do it alone; he has you by his side through it all as you both prepare for the move to Godric’s Hollow. For both the good and the bad days.

********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @probably-peeves @darlingdelacour @big-galaxy-chaos @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @stupxfy @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank @theweasleysredhair @theonly1outof-a-billion @phuvioqhile @moatsnow @storyisnotover @missmulti @himooonlight​

[vampireshmampire]

Alright, y'all want a WWDITS/Magnus Archives pipeline? I'll give you a pipeline. [minor spoilers, depending on how blind you want to go into these, nothing that cultural osmosis probably hasn't spoiled for you already]

WHAT ENTITY DOES GUILLERMO BELONG TO

In least to most likely (in my humble opinion)

almost certainly not:

The Eye (not nosy enough)

The Desolation (not cruel enough, even when he's being petty)

The Vast (too grounded, bdump tish)

The Spiral (handles the fucked up shit he sees WAY too calmly)

The Buried (I know, I know, coffin, but that's one thing in a whole three seasons)

*holds hand out flat and wiggles it back and forth making an ehhh sound*

The Corruption: Since the Hive covers unhealthy, obsessive relationships as well as rot, and his relationships with the vampires is, as he admits to, incredibly co-dependent. Someone on here said he probably eats that burger with a knife and fork because he spends so much time handling dead bodies, and yeah you can wash your hands a bunch of times but it might make you wary about touching your food. But he's both too clean and not obsessively clean enough.

The Dark: He does want to reject the sunlight and walk in the night as a vampire, but it's not his primary motivation

The End: WWDITS vampires themselves are ABSOLUTELY Terminus' domain, for good or ill, but again Guillermo's desire to be a vampire seems to be more about the power than the eternal life

The Slaughter: While he has killed a LOT of people, either by his own hands as a vampire slayer or by proxy as a familiar, he doesn't seem to find any particular enjoyment in it. He's proud of his skills and confident in his abilities, but the actual killing doesn't do it for him.

kinda depends, really:

The Flesh: Tell me, Will Guillermo, do you still see people when you stand in a crowd? Or do you see walking meat? When someone walks past do you look at their face, or do you judge if they are fit for the killing floor? When you are taking their bodies to pieces to disappear them from the world, do you think of their families? Their hopes and dreams? Or is it simply another job to be done?

The Hunt: Not actually related to his being a Van Helsing, because he's not actually a vampire hunter! Guillermo waits to them to come to him--an act of defense--rather than tracking them down a la Mosquito Collectors. However, familiarhood really does smack of the Hunt. The eternal waiting, always striving to meet the impossible demands of your master in the hope that someday, someday you'll make it, even if everything indicates you won't.

the big contenders!!:

The Web: Fandom makes Gaslight Gatekeep Guillermo jokes for a reason. As the show goes on, Guillermo has gotten better and better at manipulating the people around them, a whisper here and a word there, he nudges the vampires along the way he wants them to go, while making them think it's their idea.

But even before that, Guillermo was good at manipulating. He tracks down people, often lonely and awkward people who don't quite fit in, and gets them to take themselves to the vampires. He doesn't kidnap them. He insinuates himself into their groups, figures out their motivations and desires, and then dangles the lure, and they walk right in of--as far as they know--their own free will.

The Lonely: Guillermo considers the vampires his friends, but there is no denying that they don't see him as an equal no matter how many times he saves their lives. He's got his mom, who he almost never sees. There are the other familiars, but he very clearly views himself as better than them, even the ones he likes.

Too good for humans, not good enough for vampires.

He locks away some pretty big parts of himself, and often prefers to manipulate or even just stay silent rather than voice an opinion he thinks won't be accepted. There's a lot he says to the camera--and a lot of ways he says things to the camera--that we don't see anywhere else. Over the course of the series, how many conversations does Guillermo actually take part in with his 'friends', and how many of them does he spend literally hovering in the corner, getting shut out whenever he tries to engage?

bonus round!

The End, the Lonely, and the Vast are currently in a slapfight over Nandor the Relentless, with the Lonely in the lead by an inch.

[baejl]

spill your guts

red velvet 6th member au \\ superm 8th member au

when jaein and harry styles hosted the late late show for one night and played the ‘spill your guts’ game

[my ask box is like, blowing with all your opinions about harry and jaein and I tried so hard to ignore it lmao. anyway, i’m thinking about making this a serie of the whole episode, so tell me if you like it... enjoy!]

masterlist 🦋 requests are open feedback is always important to me!

"Jaein Anne, how are you feeling about this?" 

Harry asked the girl as she took her seat on the table full of strange and exotic food - like chopped bull penis. 

When she was invited to host the show, participating in this specific 'game' wasn't on the contract, but after insisting so much and promising to take all the responsibility for the things she'd say, the company made it possible. 

Actually, Jaein wanted to have a taste of what it felt like to have to answer unscripted questions and to finally be able to say what she wanted, and not what she was supposed to. 

And that was the perfect circumstance.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Jaein answered, looking at those things on the table. 

"Me neither... Anyway!" he suddenly exclaimed, making her giggle. "The producers have not shown us the questions, correct?" 

"Yes!" she agreed. 

"And I'll choose the food you'll have to eat if you don't answer the question." he explained, more to the public than to the girl. He pointed his finger at her. "And a little heads up, we're closer than the public knows, so there's no lying to me."

The audience cooed and Jaein laughed once again, trying not to focus on that awful smell coming from the foods.

"You too, Mr Styles!" Jaein narrowed her eyes at him and he did the same.

"I'll go first. I'll give you..." the man said, breaking their eye contact. He turned the table until he found something interesting to make Jaein eat. "the cod sperm!" he happily said as Jaein groaned at the sight of the food.

"Seriously?!" she complained. "Why not the salmon smoothie?!"

"Because you'd pretend to drink and spill it!" he blamed her.

"Okay..." Jaein accepted her loss, shrugging. "You're right."

"Let's go." Harry said, taking a card from the table beside him and giggling before reading it, making Jaein whine.

"Oh, no!"

"You trained with dancers like Taemin from Shinee, Kai from EXO, Ten and Taeyong from NCT, who later debuted with you in SuperM. Rank them from worst to best dancer."

Jaein blinked a few times, trying to digest the questions before laughing out loud, making Harry and the audience laugh too. Waving her hand, trying to control her laugh, that only made them laugh even more.

"What is this question about?" she said, still laughing.

"You have to answer or you'll eat the delicious cod sperm." Harry whistled, teasing her.  

"They're my group mates, how am I supposed to answer this?" she said, cleaning the tears from laughing but still giggling.

"Then, guys, Jaein is going to eat the cod-"

"No, no, no." Jaein interrupted him. "The thing is, I can rank the best but I can't rank the worse."

"So, there's a worse?" Harry tried to get the answer. Jaein threw a napkin on him.

She looked at the cod sperm and to Harry a few times before taking the knife and fork and starting cutting the cod sperm. She took the fork to her mouth but stopped halfway.

"You can do it, Jaein." Harry and the audience cheered for her while laughing.

Before she could think too much, Jaein ate the thing, making a disgusted face to the weird taste. When the aftertaste hit, she grabbed the bucket next to her and spat it, drinking a bit of cold water.

Taking a deep sigh, Jaein gave some light coughs.

"Cod sperm, sorry." she said to the audience like that was the most normal thing in the world.  

"Okay, now you choose a food for me to eat." Harry said, trying to avoid eye contact with her.

"I'll give you the cow blood and the pork tongue jelly." she said with no hesitation, turning the table until the plate was in front of him.

"She was dreaming about this moment." Harry said, smiling.

"You asked for it!" 

Jaein grabbed the card and read the question, laughing. 

"Harry Styles, Kendall Jenner and I already wore the same outfit. Who looked better on it?" she asked and the pictures of her wearing a Versace dress and Kendal wearing the same piece on a different night appeared on the screen next to them. 

Harry smiled, clearly embarrassed and tried to hide his face with the napkin she threw at him. Jaein playfully laughed at him and shrugged her shoulders. 

"The worse is because I feel like I could answer this..." he mumbled. 

"I mean, I could." Jaein said. 

"I think the two look amazing but..." he started to explain. The audience cooed and he closed his eyes to answer. "I have to be honest, you look the best."

"Yeah!" Jaein cheered, spinning another napkin on her head.

"Why are we doing this?" he said, looking at Jaein, who laughed with his expressions.

Harry puffed relief, and span the table until the salmon smoothie was in front of Jaein. He then took another card and started reading it.

"Jaein, with the release of your solo song 'ZGZG', you became one of the highest-paid artists in Asia. Who's the most unlikable idol?" he asked, holding back his laugh.

Jaein gasped, really shocked by the question and her genuine reaction Harry laugh out loud.

"I know the answer, I can't say it though." Jaein said, giggling but trying to keep a blank face. Before Harry could say anything, Jaein drank a big sip of that awful smoothie.

"No way!"' Harry exclaimed, clapping for her bravery. "Oh, my God... She did it, guys."

Just like the cod sperm, Jaein took the bucket and spat the salmon smoothie. It was impossible to swallow that thing. Making an ugly face as she drank water, she showed Harry her middle finger and they laughed.

"You so screwed with me now." she threatened him. "I'll give you the scorpion. It looks delicious."

"The decoration though." Harry showed the plate with two scorpions with some lettuces.

"Hmmm, this is a good one." Jaein mumbled as she took the card. "Between Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn, rank their solo-"

Harry interrupted her by grabbing the scorpion and bitting half of it, trying to keep a happy face while chewing it. Jaein got up clapping and pointing at him.

The audience was also laughing and cheering with them.

"This is hard, right?" she said, patting his back while he also spat the scorpion. He tried cleaning his mouth with a napkin but all he could do was laugh.

From her small in-ear, where the director would give them the directions of what to do, she heard him saying to wrap up the game.

"Everyone, that was 'spill your guts or fill your guts'!" Jaein said waving at the camera.

"We'll be back with more Late Late Show!" they said together.

The last thing they showed before going to commercials was Harry and Jaein laughing at each other.