#somewhat personal but not enough that I care to keep it 100% private?

[twptwp]

Please share

Hello, I contemplated it a lot, I decided it would be best. I will be sharing this beware on a rather big artist here who hurt me personally.

I will write more at the end. Please take care. Warning: the post is very big

Pestkitty is also known as Nopperabou if I remember the name correctly on other platforms such as Artfight and Youtube

*It should be noted this is very blatant lying on that guys part, I was keeping to myself for this entire time and harassed nobody, on the contrary his friends had been harassing me. I regret not writing that more clearly

I don't think I mentioned it in the original post images but I would also like to note at the time I was not an adult yet and it was my first time going on a plane... 11 hour flight completely alone is scary, no family, nobody in my family has ever travelled so far. It was a very big deal

END OF IMAGES

Description from original post on Instagram (it's a lot so I'll make it small):

HI HI PAWB! Lots and lots of people wanted me to put this together, please do share, even if you do not know the people it would be great help. The more people who know the more people who can stay safe. This post is a little overdue but I was gaslit by them into thinking these were not big issues and that I was the one being strange so it took a while for me to gain the stability to put this together, I ended up downplaying my feelings a lot and it wasn't untill somewhat recent when I realised I may be developing a new disorder from their abuse that oh... I was not wrong for my concerns and feelings; these people really are harmful. I do not condone harassment so please do not go messaging these people. Block, share, and move on. Stay safe. That is my internet mission for you🚀

I make this post because they are rather gross and dangerous and have considerably big audiences, people have told me their opinions that they should not have the platforms that they have because their behaviours are dangerous. There is more things they've done that I have not included because I would like some of my own privacy even after my private information was leaked in a comic haha... I've displayed enough behaviour from them to show who they are and what they do though, so this is enough!

This is quite intimidating for me, so, I will be going offline off of this account for a few days and just let this post simmer... Not for too long because I have some awesome art cooking HEHE but YA! If there are questions in the comments my friends will answer for me! Though, I think I've been rather transparent so I don't think there would be any.

I will also be providing more proof in my story, specifically proof that slide 10 IS that guy because quite frankly anybody could be "Instagram user" and they have fabricated stuff against me in the past so I think it would be good to prove it is that account.

Okay bla bla that is all, apologies this is such a scary and serious post especially as I like to keep my account a friendly nice place but ahhh it really has been burning at me. So, thank you for reading so very much. Bye bye pawb!

End of description^

That was a lot! So here is why I'm sharing it to Tumblr:

☆Awareness! NOBODY should have to risk getting close to these people. NOBODY.

☆Better circulation! My Instagram post got over 3000 likes, lots of shares, 100s of comment and many saves so it did very well however after a while things leave the light and become something "of the past". I notice this does not happen so much on Tumblr and things continue to be shared

☆This still effects me. The original Beware is from 3 months ago however I am currently doing this because I was restless from lastnight nightmare (I had a nightmare about these people) and now I'm all nauseous and shaky again! It's 3am and I was panicking a lot so I put this together, I'm yet to rest

And finally....

☆TAGS

I notice that if an image in a tag becomes popular enough it shows up on things like Google! Isn't that cwl! So, if a fan of these people searches for them on the internet the beware could show up which may deter them from the artist. This is great, which is why I also need your help in making this popular!

Thank you sincerely for your time, it is greatly appreciated. I feel calmer now that I have made this post, I regret not making it earlier but it is better now than never. Nos da ac breuddwydion melys pawb♡

[cyborg-franky]

Study Session..

Thank you to another supporter. I had fun, I haven't written a long fun pre-skip Law style fic in a hot sec. So please enjoy this <3

Law x GN Reader Modern AU SFW but suggestive in places WC: 1,250

You were in a foul mood, you hated biology with your entire being and what was worse was your friends seemed to be doing fine, great and they even went as far as to suggest a tutor to help you out. You didn't want help, you didn’t need help. But your friends reminded you that you very much needed this class to pass or you were going to fail and have to do the entire year again. And you hated that they were right.

So sucking up your pride, and getting the biggest drink you could from your favorite cafe, you sat in your dorm room waiting for this tutor. He came highly recommended by everyone who’d used him. Your best friend had even had a few private lessons with him and said he was more than worth the cost and the time. 

The phrasing had made you curious, considering as they said it they had this dumb look on their face and the hint of a blush. You didn’t think much about it though, just sipped your drink and glared out the window, eyes falling to the clock on your desk, watching the minutes tick down as your annoyance at the situation grew.

A knock at the door brought you out of it, shaking your head and standing up, not caring if you looked scruffy, just wanting to be comfy in your own space. Opening the door you stared at the man standing there.

Law quirked an eyebrow when you stood there with your mouth open, words failing to formulate as you started to imitate a fish out of water. You were suddenly aware of the state you were in, the messy hair, comfy shapeless clothes, caring very much how you looked now a very handsome man was standing at your door with a look on his face that said this person is nuts.

“Oh hey,” Wow, brilliant, what a great first impression. “Come in!” You almost pulled the door into your face as you held it open for him. You babbled out your introduction, giving your name and seeing the slight smirk on his lips.

“I know, we exchanged names in the email.” His tone was smug and you half hated it and half wanted to lay at his feet and ask him nicely to step on you. But you composed yourself, brushing some hair back, attempting to look somewhat put together, failing.

“Right, so your fucking up your class.” He started and helped himself to the one chair at your desk, leaving you to perch on the end of your bed, still fumbling over yourself, too busy staring at the dark hair, all the tattoos on show, his piercings.

You wished someone would have warned you he was hot and 100% your type. He shuffled the chair over and nodded to the chair that belonged to your roommate, he wanted you to sit by him? Was he crazy? Couldn’t he see the internal panic attack you were having over this entire thing? You didn’t want Law to use his sharp tongue again so you did as he suggested, pulling the seat over but keeping enough space between you that you wouldn’t explode at how nice he smelt.

Too late.

You took in a whiff of his cologne and tried to be cool about it. Simply taking a sigh and grabbing the big stack of books and notes. Flipping one over, his beautiful icy stare of steel grey flicked from you and over the notes. He clicked his tongue and read over the pages.

��Your handwriting, how do you ever read notes?” He commented, rolling up the sleeves of his yellow hoody and leaning on the table, using a painted nail to follow the scribble that passed as your notes. “Alright, I think I see what you are struggling with… anatomy isn’t an easy subject, there are a lot of fussy Latin names to remember and so many complex systems.” He hummed and you relaxed a little, only slightly pissed he’d insulted your handwriting.

“I manage,” You replied. You wanted to tell the handsome man to fuck off but you also very much wanted him to stick around. You were caught between a rock and a hot place it seemed, you looked at the book he opened. “Alright, this is what I always use to teach, it's handy because it simplifies things better than the crusty books the classes suggest.”

Law moved over, closer to you, his arm brushing against yours as he tapped the page, making you stare at what was written there but you struggled to think about anything other than how close he was. He snapped his fingers and you blinked, pulling your attention away from thoughts of his hands over your anatomy and down to the diagram.

“Little distracted? That’s fine, I don’t mind if you stare at me instead…” Law said, the smile on his face growing, a brow quirked as you felt the heat burn your cheeks, mouth hanging open once again. Was he hitting on you? Your pulse raced and your heart beat faster but he just chuckled. “I’m getting paid either way.” Law shrugged. 

OH! You little… you dragged yourself kicking and screaming from your thoughts of him and you kissing, rolling around on your single-person bed to fix him a narrowed glare as he chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

“Jokes aside,” He said and stood up, moving behind you.”So, I think it might be easier for you to learn the practical way…” He began, his hands resting on your shoulder. Your mind blanked as he spoke to you in that smooth deep voice, feeling his hands moving down your back, along your shoulder blades, down your arms leaving a pleasant tingle as fingertips danced over your arms.

He was trying to tell you each bone’s name in your arms, how they connected, he was trying to teach you but you were far too busy in space basking in the attention he was giving you. Making up scenarios all over again. Fighting yourself to keep your eyes open and not whimper, he must have already thought you were a complete hormone-driven idiot. 

So entranced in the touches, and the close proximity to the sexy tutor you barely registered when his hands returned to your shoulder, he leaned forward, and his warm breath danced across your ear. “And this, this is commonly known as the ‘collarbone’ Do you recall its medical name?” Law asked as diligent digits danced over your skin, sending the most wonderful shiver down your spine.

You couldn't think, struggling, just wanting to feel those firm tattooed hands drifting further down. “C-clavicle?” you breathed a sigh when he moved, just a little, hands leaving your skin. You were disappointed but you got to glance over your shoulder and see the wicked smirk on his handsome face.

“Not bad, but I think we need to spend more time together, don’t you?” He chuckled when you nodded your head, so much for not seeming too eager.

As you watched him pull out his planner, and start to write up notes you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted more time from you because he enjoyed teasing you, enjoyed your company, or wanted more money. 

The more you watched Law, studied his face, watched his lips which seemed to be permanently curled into a smirk, you decided you didn’t care which reason it was. You knew at that point the handsome tutor had you in a chokehold.

And you wanted more.

[elysianslove]

WHAT JJK CHARACTERS WHO ARE INTO THRREESOME AND WHO NOT? also hope ur having a nice day ily <3

AHHH I SAID I LOVE THESE ASKS AND YOU GUYS DELIVEREDD. i love you more anon, and have a lovely day, mwah <3

i tried to make this as inclusive as possible!!!

JJK CHARACTERS INTO THREESOMES 

gojō satoru

you already knowww. he does it for the flamboyance, for the bragging rights, for the attention, just to say that he did it. there is not one singular motive here. he wants to show himself off, wants to show you off, wants to show off how good he makes you feel, all of it. and gojō’s very secure in himself and in his relationship with you, so he’s not worried about anything really. he doesn’t have a preference over gender either, he’s open to all. hell, ask him to have a gang bang and he will. 

his favorite positions (not that he wouldn’t be open to others)

m x m x f/m x m x m; he loves to be fucking you while you suck the other guy off, because he knows he can fuck you so good to the point that you stop sucking the other guy’s dick. he wants to show him that his presence is not really necessary, that he should be somewhat grateful he’s even here to begin with. he wants to fuck you so stupid that you’re barely giving any attention to the other guy, mostly just losing yourself in how well gojō’s fucking you, how good he’s making you feel. 

m x m x f; uses the threesome as an excuse to try anal. he loves to making you ride the other guy while he stretches then fucks your ass. he knows it’s good, knows how full you must feel, how overwhelmed you must be. it’s just very appealing to him.

m x f x f; loves to make you sit on the other girl’s face while he fucks her. something about making you jealous and teasing you by giving you the bare minimum, because he knows she can barely pay attention to you. it’s okay though, he always ends up making her watch while he fucks you so much better. 

itadori yuuji

with yuuji, it’s more ‘sure, let’s try it! :D.’ yes, he’s dreamt about stuffing his face in so much titty, because of course he has, but it’s more of a fantasy with him, you know? he doesn’t actively seek it, but if you suggest it, he’s 100% on board. he does it for the experience, for the pleasure, for the horny <3 and generally, yuuji doesn’t care about gender, but he’s a hormonal teen, so you know, titties. he wants to be surrounded by hot women all around. but genuinely, he doesn’t mind, and he’s comfortable with all. 

his favorite positions (not that he wouldn’t be open to others) 

m x m x f/m x m x m; he really wants to watch someone else fuck you while you suck him off. like the image of you getting fucked, especially from the back, your hips raised and your ass in the air as you take him down your throat is just so, so beautiful to him. and when you moan around him!!! or when you cum so hard but he keeps you down!!! like this is a once in a lifetime thing, might as well take advantage 

m x f x f; please, either one of you ride him, and the other sits on his face. he will be in heaven. like suffocate him with your thighs while the other girl stuffs herself with his cock, or the other way around, he doesn’t mind, anything. 

getō suguru

he’s also very into the idea of overwhelming you. like he can do that plenty on his own, but with someone else there, you’re even more easily overstimulated and sensitive. he also wants to use it as a reminder that he’s really the only one that could ever come close to fucking you the way you want, the way you need. he’s the only one that could ever make you feel as good as you could ever imagine, and having someone else pleasure or fuck you easily reminds you of this. 

his favorite positions (he honestly wouldn’t be very open to others)

m x m x f/m x m x m; he’s doing the fucking, doesn’t matter what the other guy’s doing. he just needs to be the one fucking you. whether the other guy wants to watch, wants you to suck him off, wants to fuck your throat, to fuck your breasts (if you’re fem), to simply jerk off before you, he literally doesn’t care. he just wants to be the one fucking you, to assert his dominance or whatever it is. sometimes though, he’ll let the other guy fuck you, and just. watch. observe. criticize. he’ll be sitting on the side, a drink in hand, legs spread and a very obvious tent in his pants as the guy fucks you, cocking his head to the side, a stoic expression on his face as he watches you moan and writhe for the other guy. kinda sexy if i say so myself. 

m x f x f; he fucks the other girl and makes you watch. but he keeps you restrained, tied to a chair with some toy like a vibrator on the lowest setting or something of the sort to keep you frustrated. he just likes to mess with you, likes to tease you, loves to rile you up. 

mahito

it’s a gang bang or nothing with him. that’s it. i won’t elaborate. 

todo aoi

if he’s doing all the work, then yes, absolutely. not that i don’t think todo needs to get dominated and controlled, because imagine? but for him, i think he doesn’t really consider it, but then you put it in his head and he won’t let up until you agree to do it. i actually don’t think he’ll care for gender, even if canonically says his ideal partner. he doesn’t actually care. 

his favorite positions (no other option, sorry)

m x m x f/m x m x m/m x f x f; fucking you, and fingering the other person. or fucking the other person and fingering you. or fucking you and eating out the other person, or— you get it. he just wants to be in control of all your pleasures, you know? 

nobara kugisaki

okay initially i thought she wouldn’t cause she’d want things private, but if it were with someone she knows personally and trusts, she wouldn’t mind a threesome. that’s her exception, you know? and with nobara, she’s definitely a pillow princess and needs to be used and fucked out properly, but also, she has this need to control? especially if it’s a guy. so the dynamic is not 100% set, it’s just whatever ends up happening happens.

her preferred positions (she is very open to others though)

m x m x f; so like i said, dynamic isn’t 100% set. it could be that she’s being used, completely, just laying on her back, her legs spread open for you as you fuck her and her back arched so that the other guy can sink into her mouth, fucking her throat. but it could also be that she’s the one in complete control of both yours and the other guy’s pleasures. she’s riding him as she fists at your cock, or the other way around, or someone’s in her mouth, but she’s taking her time and setting the pace. 

m x f x f (fem!s/o); she’d love to have you eat her out while the guy fucks you, just watching your face twist with pleasure as you moan and stuff your face against her cunt. beautiful. 

f x m x f (male!s/o); oh my god she’d love it if you fucked the girl, but she’s laying beneath her, making out with her and rubbing at her clit. maybe even that you fuck the girl’s ass while she fingers her cunt. it’s just a very, very arousing image for her. 

f x f x f; literally anything. the three of you could sit and masturbate by each other and she’d be satisfied. loves to scissor either you or the other girl, while someone sits on her face, or watching you and the other girl scissor while she sits on someone’s face. or someone between her legs on their knees, and that person sits on someone else’s face. and if a strap is involved,,, she’s definitely getting fucked one way or another. 

inumaki toge

honestly, with inumaki, he’s not into it, but he’s also not not into it. maybe it’s the same with nobara, where he’d prefer someone he knows, but like he’s been considering it, he just hasn’t decided if he’d like to or not. i don’t doubt that inumaki is a kinky little shit deep down and privately, but you know, with his partner. he’s rocky on that threesome stuff, but he’s working on it, just cause the thought does arouse him. especially the thought of you getting fucked while he uses your throat, but ,,, we’ll see, as he says. 

JJK CHARACTERS NOT INTO THREESOMES 

fushiguro megumi

absolutely not. i don’t think y’all realize just how possessive megumi would get over you if you were his significant other. it’d either really upset him if you invite another person over, cause he’d just assume that he wasn’t enough for you, or, way better than that, he gets insanely jealous and fucks you so good all while degrading you about how desperate you are for another person to fuck you, or guilting you about wanting another and making you completely forget you’d ever considered it. 

(maybe if you invite itadori or nobara he’ll consider it)

ryomen sukuna 

why would you want another person when he’s got two cocks himself??? sjdgskds ok but he would properly angry at you if you suggested it. only try to if you’re insane and/or you have a death wish. he’s extremely, extremely, possessive of you. why would you need someone else?? does he not fuck you well enough??? do you need to be fucked as a reminder??? he can do that. he will do that. 

zenin maki 

inviting another person just makes her uncomfortable. also makes her extremely jealous. another very possessive person. you’re hers and she’s yours, isn’t that more than enough? and if you really wanna be overstimulated, you could’ve just said so,,, 

nanami kentō

he’s a firm believer that something as intimate as sex should be kept private, of course. and he doesn’t like the fact that you think you need another person in the bedroom to be pleasured. but yeah, he doesn’t find the thought of inviting another person appealing or arousing in any way, and doesn’t understand why you would either. you’re more than enough for him, is it not the same the other way around? 

fushiguro toji

he will laugh in your face. lol. rip </3 don’t come at him with that, what do you want a threesome for? a fuck from him is worth a thousand from others <3 

[arvandus]

Congrats on 750. May i have Aizawa and/or Hizashi(Present Mic) headcanons?

Of course! I’m gonna go with Hizashi because I haven’t written for him before, so I think it’d be fun. :)

Hizashi x Reader (SFW & NSFW)

SFW:

🎵 Not one to shy away from his feelings; as soon as he realizes he’s crushin’ on you, he will immediately start courting you. Flirting with you at your desk, asking you out on dates, buying you little gifts, and surprising you with lunch.

🎵 Loves to take you out on fun dates. Carnivals, open-mic nights (ha ha), obscure/indie music performances at hole-in-the-wall dive bars… he’s very into the arts and loves having someone to explore them with. Not so big on the nature activities though… this man is a city guy 100%.

🎵 However, that doesn’t mean he can’t also have the occasional stay-at-home-and-veg date, either! He works a LOT, so there will be times that he’ll be tired and not want to go anywhere. His has a huge social battery though, so it’d take time for it to get to that point. And once he’s recharged, he’s back out on the town.

🎵 Favorite home activities would be watching movies with you (preferably something lighthearted) or one-on-one game nights. Will also sometimes just lounge on the couch, making up songs to make you smile. Maybe they’re sappy love songs. Maybe they’re funny songs with toilet humor lyrics. Either way, fiddling with his guitar is an excellent way for him to relax.

🎵 Loves to dote on you. Nothing makes him happier than seeing your face smile at him when he does something nice for you. He’d definitely be the type to leave little love notes on your desk and to send you random silly pictures of himself or of memes that he knows you’d enjoy.

🎵 Enjoys annoying you with silly nicknames. It’ll start off somewhat normal at first. “cutie pie,” “sweet cheeks,” etc. But it’ll just get worse and worse. “Boo,” “cuddle cakes,” “muffin,” “Sugar-baby-honey-love.” He loves when you glare at him and roll your eyes. Beware if you try to do the same to him… it’ll turn into a never-ending game of who can come up with a worse nickname for the other.

🎵 This man loves praise, both giving and receiving. It’s so validating for him. Not just because of the attention aspect, but because he desperately wants to make you happy. The surest way for him to know that he does, is for you to tell him so.

🎵 He strongly values open communication. If there’s an issue, he wants you to be able to tell him about it. He’ll do his best to work through whatever problem you two might be having.

🎵 If his extroversion and companionship starts to become too much for you, you can always tell him so. After all, his best friend is introverted, so he’s used to it. He’ll miss you, but he won’t take offense. Just make sure you reciprocate by showering him in appreciation once you’ve recharged your own batteries.

🎵 Is 1000% committed to you. Loyalty and honesty will never ever be an issue with him.

🎵 That doesn’t mean that he’ll dump all of his past trauma and stuff onto you right away, though. If anything, he might refrain from bringing up topics about himself that might be upsetting. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you with them or anything. It’s that he doesn’t want to make you feel sad, especially over things in the past that can’t be changed.

🎵 If you ask him about his past though, he’ll answer honestly. And when he’s able to open up and talk to you about it, it’ll leave him feeling relieved and so much closer to you.

🎵 I definitely see Hizashi as the type to say he wants kids, whether his own or adopted, even though he’s around them 24/7. But it’s something that’s always “in the future” for him, since he’s still enjoying his artistry, his friends, and his job.

🎵 If he ever does become a parent, he’d be such a fun dad. But he’d also be a complete sucker for his kid(s). They’d have him wrapped around his little finger. You’ll probably have to be the responsible one most of the time (unless it’s something very serious, of course.. he’ll know when to put his foot down).

🎵 If you don’t want kids, that’s okay too. Hizashi is all about flexibility and going with the flow. As a teacher, he understands the level of responsibility that comes with children and would never ever pressure his partner into it if they didn’t want it. If anything, he’d have a lot of respect for you because you’re honest and you’ve thought heavily about it. Besides, there’s plenty of other things that can be enjoyed in life that don’t involve kids. And the most important thing to him is that he’s able to do those things with you.

🎵 Would be open to a polyamorous relationship, but he’d be very responsible about it - there’d be a lot of talking and hashing out important details, like ensuring that trust is established as well as important ground rules. And once you’re in one with him, the communication wouldn’t stop. He’d always make sure to check in from time to time, and make sure that everyone is happy and getting their needs met (including himself).

NSFW:

🎵 Hizashi has zero problems with PDA (as long as you’re okay with it, of course). That won’t be limited to just kisses and hugs, though… He will thoroughly enjoy grabbing a handful of your ass and whisper dirty secrets in your ear before giving your earlobe a small nibble. He’ll be sneaky, about it though, doing these dark little deeds when no one is looking and watch as you try to save face when the other person turns back around. LOVES to see you get flustered.

🎵 He’d be a very sweet lover. He’d whisper sweet praise in your ears, cover your body in kisses. He’d be a gentleman, making sure you’re feeling your best from start to finish. 100% will always make sure you finish before he does. He will straight up worship you.

🎵 He LOVES giving oral. LOVES. IT. If you let him go down there, you better buckle up and make sure your schedule is cleared for the next few hours. He literally wants to live between your thighs. And dear GOD is he good at what he does.

🎵 Favorite position is when you ride him, preferably facing him so he can see your face. It’ll start with him leaning back against the pillows, one arm propped behind his head while the other hand rests on your waist. He likes giving you the reins, watching you work yourself on his long cock. He’ll have the most languid, serene smile on his face, his eyes drinking you in. Seeing you enjoy yourself so much only riles him up more, and at some point he’ll forgo his relaxed posture in favor of placing both hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you up and down on his hard cock. When you’re both close to unraveling, the tension wound and ready to snap, he’ll sit up from his pillows and wrap an arm around your waist and begin pounding up into you as his other arm keeps him propped up on the mattress. He’ll definitely take your nipple in his mouth during this final sprint and will cum with a groan, his breath hot against your skin.

🎵 Afterwards…? So much aftercare! There will be cuddles, pets, massages… he’ll sing to you softly, the tenor of his voice vibrating against your ear as you rest your head on his chest and his fingers stroke your hair. If it’s a particularly long session, he’ll bring you a platter of snacks and something to drink. If it’s a particularly messy session, there will be a bubble bath together (and don’t you dare doubt that he’ll have a bathtub big enough for the both of you!).

🎵 He’s definitely got a mischievous, kinky side. He’d enjoy sex in public places. Bathrooms, dressing rooms, empty hallways, stairwells… places that are mostly private but still have a risk of getting caught.

🎵 Will totally buy you lingerie to wear for him; or better yet, take you shopping (and find a way to secretly join you in the fitting room….)

🎵 Definitely has switch energy. Would enjoy being blindfolded and teased. Can absolutely be reduced to a begging, whimpering mess if you want him to be.

🎵 He trusts you completely to take care of him just as he takes care of you.

🎵 Your sex life with Hizashi will never be boring.

[cryoexorcist]

Okay so I tried to piece things together in a coherent manner but it’s been exhausting, but after thinking about this for the better part of 2 weeks, here at long last, is my headcanon on Chongyun’s family/family history.

I first started doing research when I noticed Chongyun’s affiliation changed from Liyue harbor to Tianheng Thaumaturges. After doing some research and trying to piece together lore, I have decided that Chongyun’s clan can trace their lineage back to when the Guili Assembly was still very much in use. Thaumaturges established their presence by helping to forge the blackcliff catalyst. (and thus where the blackcliff weapons came from)

From there, I can only gather that the thaumaturges started using their magic for exorcisms, since it all seems to go hand in hand in general. The clan grew and spread out, keeping their residence near Mt. Tianheng, or perhaps moving into the city of Liyue once that came into existence.

Since Chongyun mentions briefly that there are relics in their family that can be traced back generations, and there is an established hierarchy in said clan, I can assume that they have somewhat decent standing, especially considering they’re ‘renowned’ throughout Liyue. I refuse to believe that one becomes renowned without having some level of fortune/high class citizenship.

Also to branch off a bit, I feel like Chongyun’s half the clan wasn’t really present when Shenhe’s story happened. Perhaps the elders all agreed collectively to let each individual family do their own thing for the sake of exorcisms and demon hunting, we don’t know. But since they’re part of the same clan, it’s easy to assume that Chongyun did grow up on stories of Shenhe and everything that happened.

Going back to where I think the clan stands in society: I firmly believe they have money, and lots of it. They may not be as well know or super high class as say, XQ and his clan, but Chongyun’s family does have importance and is treated with respect. They would have to have money in order to obtain and upkeep a large family, storage for all their relics, weapons, talismans, charms, probably spellbooks even. I can also assume that they pay for private tutoring/weapons training and training in general. And for Chongyun personally, there’s probably a need to keep mora handy for ordering and commissioning customized clothing/fabric to keep Chongyun comfortable. Not to mention, the cost of importing food from different nations.

For Chongyun especially, in the game it’s stated that people mistrust him because of how powerful they are, but I honestly don’t buy that. The notion to be honest is ridiculous to me. Chongyun has performed hundreds of exorcisms, with a 100% success rate, I really doubt that putting in that much effort for an ungrateful people makes no sense. I can buy confusion and curiosity, but to say that Chongyun has to actively apologize to people upsets me, so I wish to disregard it.

I also think, since it’s stated that Chongyun is heir to the clan, that he is either an only child, or the eldest child and is set to take over as clan leader when his parents/elders no longer can run it. It’s not a responsibility they want exactly, but Chongyun will readily accept it because they do care for their clan/family and do not wish to see their traditions and practices fall to the wayside.

But ultimately, the clan as a whole has a presence that is well established and well known since the founding of Liyue. They’re influential, but not powerful, but are also rich enough to afford a lot of things.

sources:

one

two

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Dimitrescu Daughter HCs

I thought this would only take a few minutes. I was so, so very wrong. Anyway, some of these are somewhat exclusive to my fic (Serenade), but they’ll make sense even if you haven’t read that.

Daniela:

Others have already talked about how Daniela reads a ton of romance novels, so I’m not really going to go into that very much, just saying that I agree 100%, I mean c’mon, it’s practically canon.

While she mainly sources books from her family’s library, there are a few she’s “acquired” over the years that she keeps locked away in her room. These tend to be a bit, ahem, steamier than her mother would approve of/let her read under normal circumstances.

How did she get these? Well, there has to be someone who delivers goods to Castle Dimitrescu (Duke, perhaps?), seeing as the Maidens need, like, actual food to survive. Sometimes Daniela manages to convince them to order books for her, usually just asking for books by authors she likes, or ones she’s heard maidens whispering about.

No, the delivery person does not read the book’s summaries or reviews, they have a feeling (based on titles and covers alone) that they don’t want to know.

As for her experiences with actual romance… she’s so very, very excited about it, all the time. Wants to kiss every cute Maiden she sees, and sometimes daydreams about a beautiful woman fleeing from lycans who comes to the castle for shelter, clinging to Dani for warmth and protection, and it’s love at first sight, and they kiss and kiss and right as it gets to the good part-! Someone interrupts her daydream (usually Cassandra).

However, her actual experiences are fairly limited. Sure, she has kissed Maidens, but she tends to get over excited. Like in Serenade, she starts to rush the process, and usually ends up draining her “lover” aka victim before anything more intimate happens.

She’s definitely done sexual things, just, well, not with other people. Private things. Usually during or after reading one of her special books. You get the picture.

Because of this, and her aforementioned love of romance novels, Daniela has become somewhat obsessed with the idea of her first time. She wants everything to be perfect. The setting, the timing, who she’s with… Hence her reaction in chapter 3 of Serenade. It’s not that she didn’t want to continue, just that the circumstances didn’t feel right. She’s very particular!

Favorite Music Genre: Girl goes wild for an emotional, gut-wrenching love/power ballad. The type to lie in bed and cry while listening to Hozier or Lorde (not that she can hear either of them, considering her limited music options). Doesn’t admit it, though, and mostly listens to indie pop when other people can hear. That and whatever the Maiden plays on piano ;)

Okay it feels weird to joke about her loving music I wrote, anywayyyy

Hobbies: Other than reading there’s not too much I can see her doing, really. She’d be sure to get into anything that her s/o enjoys, though, even if it’s something difficult or time-consuming. Writing is something she’d love, but it’s difficult for her to keep her focus on just one project at a time. Ideally she’d write short stories, romantic ones obvs, and have someone else proofread/edit them. For the most part she’d write within fantasy and historical setting (seeing as she’s got experience in both of those departments).

ADHD, BABY. Bigtime, seriously. Maybe this is just my adhd ass projecting, but I can’t not see her as having it. For her it mainly manifests with hyper-focusing/difficulty staying on task. It’s like a switch with those on either end, flipping back and forth every once in a while. She can spend six hours reading two different books in one sitting, but if someone just breathes too loudly it disrupts her completely. Because of this she’s somewhat prone to abandoning projects. It’s a sore subject for her, and her sisters are aware, normally only bringing it up if they’re really angry with her.

Opinions on the four lords: Thinks Heisenberg is a tool (pun intended), also thinks that he secretly reads super erotic novels. She doesn’t have any proof, though, and would never say anything about it out loud. Just makes fun of him in her head. Doesn’t actually judge him for what she thinks he reads, just judges his personality and the “need he feels to hide his secret”. Loves Donna, and low-key thinks she’s attractive. Daniela mostly bases that off the portrait she’s seen, but, like many fans, also thinks the hands are nice. The puppets don’t bother her, though she also doesn’t really care about them, other than thinking that Donna interacting with them is cute.

Opinions continued: Moreau is… uh… fish boy. Daniela thinks he’s weird, kinda gross, and hardly considers him a “real” lord. Poor boy :(  At least she doesn’t actively make fun of him?... Even if that’s only because she kinda forgets about him most of the time. As for Lady Dimitrescu, well, obviously Daniela loves her mom. The whole family is very close, and as the “youngest”, Daniela gets a lot of attention. Sometimes she thinks her mother is too strict, but at the end of the day there’s no love lost.

Bela:

Cleans up after her sisters a lot, but still nowhere near as much as any of the Maidens do. Often agrees to help with messes in exchange for blackmail material. “Oh, Daniela, what a shame you broke mother’s favorite dish… I could help, but you owe me one.” At the end of the day, though, there’s plenty she would slide.

Being the “oldest”, she’s expected to behave the best, and often feels more restricted than her sisters. Being an example is hard! Occasionally she’ll have the impulse to rebel, but this usually only manifests in scenarios like the one mentioned above, aka she’ll simply be more lenient of her siblings for a bit.

Overall far less sadistic than her sisters. Cares more about the quality of pain then the amount of it. Only ever goes overboard if someone full out threatens or hurts her family. Insults towards them still earn her ire, and will get her to punish someone, but it’s not enough to make her resort to torture. Usually.

Gets the most restless out of the three. As cool (and large) as the castle is, it’s all she’s ever really known. If not for her weakness to cold, she’d go out on hikes a lot. Nature interests her, fascinates her, but she’d be a little less fond of most of it in person. Like, oh, waterfalls sound so cool, followed by a hundred complaints about the noise. Thinks deer are the cutest shit ever (second only to humans, maybe).

Unlike Daniela (though that HC is relevant almost exclusively to Serenade), Bela has actually slept with a Maiden before. She doesn’t really care for them enough to consider it a relationship, instead admiring them for their entertainment value. Definitely could fall for a Maiden, simply hasn’t yet. Of the three I feel like she takes the longest to fall in love, and even longer to actually act on her feelings. Sometimes resents her siblings because they unknowingly “claimed” a Maiden that she was starting to be interested in. However, she fully acknowledges that she should have said something if she didn’t want to lose the girl, considering the situation they live in.

Favorite music genre: Classical, full orchestra style, with a soft spot for swing/jazz. Enjoys having music play softly while she reads, and is very particular about the volume. Absolutely would argue with her sisters if they tried to change the music or turn it up.

Hobbies: Reading, duh. Less interested in romance than Daniela by a considerable amount. For the most part she reads non-fiction books, enjoying learning about history and the sciences. Astronomy is at the top of her favorites list, followed by biology, then obscure (and often bloody) pieces of history. Niche=perfect. Also enjoys music, even if she had to rely mostly on self-teaching books. Knows the basics of piano, but doesn’t actively play, much preferring both the violin and harp. Most of the time she’ll only play if she knows her sisters won’t bother her, or if her mother asks her to.

Opinions on the four lords: Admires Heisenberg’s work/his edgenuity, but thinks the actual man is a temperamental child… who smells like wet dog. He’s only been at Castle Dimitrescu a couple times (per Mother Miranda’s request), and both times Bela moved to the other side of the house so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge his existence. While she would never admit it, she’s low-key creeped out by Donna’s dolls, and really only tolerates Angie. However, she would never act on her nerves, out of consideration for Donna’s feelings. She knows that her mother gets along well with the dollmaker, and keeps this at the forefront of her mind.

Opinions continued: “Moreau who? Oh, the fish guy? He’s still alive?... Good for him.” Wants to make Lady Dimitrescu proud, but not as desperately as Cassandra. Unknowingly mimics a lot of her mother’s little habits and ticks, and would be quietly embarrassed if someone pointed it out to her. As mentioned previously, she feels like she has to be an example for the others, and somewhat resents the pressure this puts on her. On the other hand, she does enjoy being “responsible for” (read: in charge of) her sisters. Additionally, she is the most likely to get away with lying to Alcina, though she does not often do so. This isn’t because she’s the most manipulative (that’s Cass), or the best liar (that’s Dani, if she’s trying), but simply because Alcina doesn’t think her oldest daughter would lie. Even if she doubts something Bela says, she’ll usually give her the benefit of the doubt… as long as it doesn’t happen very often.

Cassandra:

Sleeps the most of the three, if only because she’s the most active of them. Not as fast as the others while in swarm mode, but the fastest on foot, partially because she’s more likely to simply walk places. She knows the sound of feet on the floor scares the Maidens, and she drinks their fear with utter pleasure. Additionally she claims that it just feels nice to “stretch her legs”. But she will not hesitate to enter swarm mode when chasing someone. As fun as it is to smell their fear, she can get impatient, wanting to get close and personal to her target.

Tends to hide most of her feelings, sometimes even opting to “convert” them into anger. In other words, think of her emotional state as an ever-filling bottle of water. As things happen, she feels emotions, and the rate at which water pours into the bottle increases. Ideally if the water level started getting too high, she would address whatever is increasing the flow of water. Instead of that, she often uses anger, which is equivalent to shaking the bottle a bit and letting water messily spill out of it. Doesn’t address the actual problem, but let’s her release some pressure/free up some room.

Goes through Maidens faster than her siblings (yes, even Daniela “draining you of blood is romantic” Dimitrescu). Not all of them even die in the basement, sometimes what was supposed to be a “warning” turns into “oh shit the blood won’t stop coming out, this is how I die, in this accursed castle, no friends or family to mourn me, just the painful knowledge that I will not be the last, I will die for no cause, no glory, just the bitter whims of a blood-soaked mistress” or something along those lines.

While more likely to get attached to someone than Bela, Cassandra isn’t one to do much about it. She might flirt, might even try to kiss (or, uh, kiss while also not wearing clothes wink wink), but she won’t (usually) claim someone as her own, or protest if one of her sisters wants to have some fun with them (even if it’s the bloody kind of fun). Technically gets over breakups and “breakups” (i.e. death) easier than either of her sisters. To be fully accurate, Daniela still goes through lovers faster, but she also remembers them and cares for them for longer post-breakup.

Somewhat of a blood kink. Like, more than vampires automatically have. In intimate settings she cares more about the quantity of blood and what she can do with it (loves bloodstains) than what causes the bloodshed.

Favorite music genre: Rock ‘n roll. Leans towards older stuff, as well as heavier songs. Soft spot for symphonic metal, but doesn’t admit it out of the fear that some might consider it a “weaker form” of the genre. Almost exclusively listens to bands that have female vocalists, and gets crushes on them more than she’d ever admit.

Hobbies: Art! Painting, mostly, but dabbles in sculpture from time to time. It’s been too long since I took an art class for me to suggest a style for her paintings, but I imagine her sculptures would be somewhat abstract. Her art would revolve around emotion, the stronger and rawer the better, with viewers often being left uncomfortable. While Alcina buys plenty of art supplies for her, Cassandra is fond of improvising, especially by creating her own “tools” (of questionable efficiency) out of items she has laying around. She is absolutely the one who took her mother’s lipstick. If you don’t know what that means, don’t worry, it’s just mentioned in one of the RE8 notes that Lady Dimitrescu’s valuable lipstick is missing.

Opinions on the four lords: Tolerates Heisenberg more than the rest of her family by a considerable amount. She’s seen glimpses of his work, his steampunk-adjacent style, and actually kind of digs it. While Bela cares more about the science behind his work, Cassandra just digs the aesthetic. Sometimes for her art she also needs things she can’t get from the castle, and are too obscure to get from a merchant, so she trades tools/ideas with Heisenberg in exchange for him making something for her. “Can you make a battery but whenever it’s in use it makes a horrible screaming sound?” “Yes. PS I hate your mother and Miranda.” “I didn’t fucking ask.”

Opinions continued: Doesn’t really care much about Donna, but acknowledges her as a fellow artist, and would be willing to consult her if she talked more (and talked without Angie). Cassandra hasn’t met Moreau, thankfully (he would cry). Knows about him from her sister/mother, and as a result doesn’t care about him. Internally whenever someone mentions him, she pictures, like, a Goldfish Cracker (the snack that smiles back) with legs except also it’s green and moldy.

Opinions cont.: Loves her mother so much. Determined to please her, to make her proud, but often left feeling less loved than her sisters. This strains her relationship with her family, not that she’d ever voice her feelings and talk through the issue. Let’s be real, Alcina would probably feel guilty for not realizing how Cass felt. Nonetheless, Cassandra probably spends the most time with her mother, often offering to assist her with tasks, or trying to get her to appreciate her art.

[awhitehead17]

100 ways to say I love you - TimKon edition:

Number 49: “Call me when you get home.” 

Enjoy! :D 

“And alas,” Tim sighs putting a hand on his chest over his heart, “our night must come to an end.”

Kon hums, seeming to reluctantly agree. “Yeah…”

“Hey.” Tim says getting his attention. “I wish we didn’t have to end it here either. I’ve had an amazing evening but I have an early start tomorrow that I still need to get ready for, it’s important.”

Kon pulls a face and observes their surroundings with a disgusted look. “Best way to end a date huh, in a dingy alleyway one block away from your million dollar penthouse.”

Tim sends him a pointed look. “It’s not a million dollars.”

“Why can’t I come up?”

“You know why Kon.”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” Kon drawls out huskily. He steps into Tim’s personal space and wraps his arms around the other’s waist, he drags his body even closer so there wasn’t even an inch left between them.

Tim rolls his eyes but doesn’t do anything to get out of the hold. “You know how we get.”

“I don’t think I do… I may need a reminder.”

“Nice try, but no.”

Kon drops the act and pouts. “Surely it would be easier for me to leave from your penthouse rather than this alley?”

“Sure, if it wasn’t the alleyway I’ve specifically concealed so you in particular can come and go discreetly. Poor argument there clone boy. Remember who you’re dating.”

“You really don’t want me going up there do you?” Kon muses, narrowing his eyes slightly. “You hiding something Tim? Got a secret lover boy waiting for you which I don’t know about?”

Tim snorts and start laughing at the ridiculousness of the suggestion. “Yes Kon, that is the exact reason why I don’t want you to come up. I’ve been cheating on you this whole time! Sorry you had to find out this way.”

Kon tightens his hold on Tim, barely concealing a grin. “I knew it! So who is it? Is it Bart? Please don’t tell me it’s Bart, I wouldn’t be able to handle the betrayal.” Tim opens his mouth to retort but he’s cut off by Kon before he could say anything. “Wait. It’s Bernard isn’t it? All of this time Tim-”

This time it’s Tim cutting Kon off. He slaps a hand over Kon’s mouth effectively shutting him up. “Oh my god Kon, shut up! I’m not cheating on you for heavens sake. Bernard is not up in the penthouse, even if he was I’m sure you would be aware of it because it’s not like he would be able to keep it to himself and be quiet about it.”

Kon moves Tim’s hand away from his mouth, he keeps it in his grasp, and cocks his head to the side. “That’s fine I suppose. You guys have been pretty chummy recently.”

Tim raises an eyebrow, he knows Kon is joking but he can’t help wondering how much truth lies underneath his words. “It’s been really nice to reconnect with him and you know that he was my best friend before everything changed. It’s nice to have some of that past back.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Kon mumbles looking away from Tim.

“Little ole geeky Bernard Dowd is enough to make the big bad ass Superboy jealous.” Tim teases him lightly. “Who knew you had another weakness other than Kryptonite.”

He and Kon had been dating for years by now. They’re both confident and comfortable in the relationship to not feel threatened or jealous of any outsiders, including Tim’s revived friendship with his long old friend Bernard. The fact that Kon seems to be mildly jealous of Bernard is hilarious to Tim, his boyfriend honestly has nothing to worry about.

“Shut up. I know it’s not like that. I’m happy for you, I really am. It’s nice to know you’ve got friends outside of the cape community.”

For that admission, Tim has just got to up onto his tip toes and press a chaste kiss to his lips. Actions are louder than words after all. Having Kon’s support fills him with warmth in a way he can’t describe.

When Tim’s pulls away Kon instantly follows and captures his lips again. Tim hums into the kiss and any thoughts of Bernard disappear. The two of them stay pressed together for a long time even though the kissing never goes beyond a somewhat heated make out session which is probably for the best.

Somehow Tim finds the willpower to pull away from Kon, this time placing a firm hand on his boyfriend’s chest to prevent him from following. They each take a breath and look at one another while smiling goofily.

After a few beats Tim pats Kon’s chest and takes a step back. “I really should go.”

Kon nods his head ruefully. “See you the weekend?”

“Yeah. I’ll get what I need to done then I’ll be free.”

“Sounds perfect. Want me to pick you up?”

“How else am I supposed to get there?” Tim teases with a grin.

“I don’t know, by using one of those fancy private jets you have stashed away somewhere.”

“I could, or I could get my superpowered boyfriend to come and get me instead. We could make a pitstop to two along the way.”

“When you put it like that, it does sound a lot better than a private jet.”

“Of course.” Tim nods. “Anyway, I’m actually going to go now. I’ll see you soon.” Tim turns and walks away only to be stopped moments later by Kon grabbing his wrist.

“Call me when you get home.”

Tim stops and stares at his boyfriend trying to work out of he was being serious or not. “Really? I live a block away. I’ll be fine. If anything I should be telling you that.”

“Sorry for caring,” Kon says rolling his eyes, “You’re you dude, and you live in Gotham. Anything could happen.”

“Touché, but still. I’ll be fine Kon. I’m walking a block while you’re flying across the country, why don’t you call me when you get home instead?”

Kon blinks at him for a while before ducking his head in a nod of agreement. “Okay, sounds good.”

“Good.” Tim states affirmatively. He steps forward and presses another kiss to Kon’s lips. “Now goodnight.”

“Night Tim.” After that Kon shoots off into the sky and Tim watches until he disappears, only then does he head home with a smile plastered on his face.

Half an hour later Tim gets a call from Kon telling him he’s made it home safe and sound. Even then that smile was still on Tim’s face, hearing Kon’s voice only makes it grow wider and brighter.

[wincore]

sweet tooth | dong sicheng

pairing: vampire!sicheng x reader

words: 2.8k

summary: out of all the inconveniences a vampire boyfriend could pose, there’s about two tonight: a) him losing it at the next person who compliments his fangs, or b) you losing it at sicheng’s 100% blood alcohol content

genre: vampire!au, boyfriend!au, college!au, (tooth-rotting) fluff, comfort, humour

warning(s): mentions of blood, alcohol consumption, college halloween parties

song rec(s): candy - baekhyun // wish you were sober - conan gray

a/n: let’s pretend it’s halloween pls <3 also im sorry it’s so short and more drabble-ish but i wanted to write something gentle and comforting so!!! yeah ^^ also there is no plot. eep.

It’s two in the morning.

Or rather, it feels like two in the morning. 

A frat party is a horrible substitute for an actual Halloween party. The alcohol content is through the roof and the number of pairs making out is enough to make you feel queasy. You never knew horror themes had the innate ability to make people so flagrantly horny—you’re half glad you’re not, god forbid, single. Most of your friends were too busy, however, to organize the close-knit party you usually have each year—so here you are, with an invitation from a friend of a friend (of a friend). Your boyfriend might be the only one feeling more out of place than you are.

You glance at Sicheng from the pool table, the cup frozen against his lips while his eyes scan the room from corner to corner. You don’t do crowds and neither does he; though he does have the unwitting ability to charm any crowd he’s in. You’re not quite sure if he’s still unaware of that.

You watch as a girl you can easily recognize from your campus approach him, all smiles and giggles. She says something and you scoff, almost completely certain about what it is she said.

Sicheng might be unaware of it—but you are, and painfully so.

She looks at him starry-eyed and the scent of rum wafting around her. A part of her jacket is off her shoulder, a faint blush covering her cheeks that you can spot even under the dim lights. She’s definitely flirting—you know that because rumours go around faster than assignments in this university. Choi Joohee has a very public, very open crush on your boyfriend.

It’s not like it bothers you. Not at all.

Just a little bit.

Jealousy has never been your thing and you’re half certain what you’re feeling isn’t even jealousy—just a taste of alcohol and the proximity of a Halloween house party.

Speaking of which, the only thing harrowing about this place is the amount of alcohol everyone seems to be consuming—including your boyfriend. Ten dragged Yukhei home a while ago and a part of you is still not confident enough to handle a boyfriend with very pointy fangs and midnight cravings for blood (or juice, as Ten disgustingly phrases it). 

Sicheng nods along to something Joohee asks, an eyebrow raised quizzically on her and you assume he’s been zoning out the whole time. The urge to laugh surfaces and you swallow it whole. He’s so cute, even in this state. The lights dance across his face; candy blue, rich purple, saccharine red. The colours don’t help him stand any straighter, or slur his words any less.

You think it’s time to help your boyfriend out. However, the moment you walk through the swarms over to them, Joohee’s face sours. Of course, as the only competition (is it a competition if you’ve already won?) to the object of her affections, you don’t rank too high in her books. It made you a little upset at first, but you got used to it. (“She’ll get over it,” Sicheng had reassured several times. “Don’t worry.”)

People grow, and with that thought, you let it be.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Joohee tells Sicheng and walks away, like he’s supposed to follow her.

You roll your eyes and turn to Sicheng, who’s had a very delayed response to Joohee’s departure. His head is tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded and you’re almost afraid he’s going to drop to the floor right there and then. This is bad. The thing about vampires is that they absolutely should not, under any circumstance, have alcohol. Calling your boyfriend a lightweight is beyond an understatement.

“Sicheng,” you call softly. 

He turns to you, taking a moment to process, before pulling his lips into a wide smile. His fangs poke out even when he presses his lips back together, a contemplatory look over him.

“I thought you left me here.” He forces a sardonic smile.

Drunk off his ass and Sicheng still manages to be annoyingly sarcastic.

You open your mouth and close it again. It’s not like you can chide him without letting your fondness show. The Adonis features that grace his face don’t help. Flushed all the way to the neck, a drunk Dong Sicheng is very rare. The last time this happened must have been at least two years ago (and though you weren’t there then, the way Ten and Kun freeze up at the slightest mention, you decided to not ask).

“Why did you drink?” you ask, huffing. “You can’t even smell alcohol.”

There’s a short pause.

“Because you were ignoring me,” he replies, leaning in.

Heat washes into your cheeks. You forgot how unrestrained he gets with alcohol in his system.

Sicheng seems to have enough consciousness left in him to feel somewhat embarrassed, standing up straight and fiddling with his thumbs. You slip your hand into his without delay and pull, trying your best to navigate through the crowd. Is an ordinary Halloween party too much to ask for? Just when you can finally spot the front door, Sicheng stops abruptly, making you stumble backwards into his chest. He smells like the old deodorant he’s been using for a year underneath the smell of beer and… is that blood?

“Where are we going?” he asks sharply.

“Home, Sicheng,” you whine. “You can stay in my bed.”

He stays rooted in place stubbornly, and you wonder what it is now. This is the time you have to wonder if you’re dating a (potentially) immortal creature or a recently birthed baby.

“We should enjoy more. You’ve hardly smiled the past few weeks,” he mutters.

Your heartbeat spikes for a moment, when he brushes the hair from your face. All this time and he hasn’t changed the words he offers to you in private, the care on his lips and fingertips. A room full of people who aren’t listening is the best place to talk.

The first time you saw Sicheng was in the middle of the night, in the dark hallway of your shared apartment building, blood staining his jaw from a bag he’d acquired from med student Wong Kunhang. (You’re very sure that’s illegal.)

Needless to say, you’d fainted immediately after. When you came to, you were met with a man with pretty eyes and fangs poking out his mouth and in a bed that wasn’t yours. There was no blood this time but you screamed anyway, cut off by the man’s hand over your mouth.

“Calm down,” he said, voice surprisingly deep. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you.”

“You were planning to kill me?” you asked, panicking.

“I just said I wouldn’t,” he replied quietly, eyes wide and almost as stressed as you are.

Sicheng heaves a sigh, massaging his forehead. You shake yourself off the memories, tugging at his shirt so you can sit somewhere at least. The alcohol must have numbed his ears too. The low R&B tunes make no sense on Halloween night; even less when they’re played a few bars above the acceptable volume. If you’re not out of here soon, you might lose your hearing altogether.

The couch is slightly less stinky than you would have expected. (You grimace as you think to the last time you were at a frat party and in particular, the vomit.) Beside you, Sicheng mumbles about something you’re not quite sure of, a quiet rant with one-track emotions. It makes you giggle and for a moment, you forget the predicament of being stuck with a drunk vampire boyfriend who has just finished teething.

“Hey, guys.”

You look up to see Jihoon, the very friend of a friend (of a friend) who had invited you to this mess. It’s not like you harbour ill feelings towards him; but the guy has approximately zero ability to read the room. It’s mostly funny.

Sicheng makes a vague gesture that you assume means ‘hello’, sitting up straight so he doesn't look noticeably tipsy. You make light conversation with Jihoon, Sicheng’s arm around your waist tightening reflexively. You don’t plan on party-hopping, no matter how much Jihoon urges the two of you—seriously, does he not see the look on Sicheng’s face? He looks more zombie than vampire.

“You know, you don’t actually have to wear costumes for this, right? We didn’t set a theme,” Jihoon remarks, tilting his head to face your boyfriend. “The fangs are really cool, though. Holy shit. Dude, they look so real.”

Sicheng’s lips twitch but he forces them into a smile, trying to move as far away from Jihoon as possible. The fangs are usually not out and about in the open, slightly retracted during the day. The night, however, keeps him on edge. Sicheng hates the spotlight that only ever shows up for the wrong reasons, and he’d much rather graduate without having to deal with horny vampire-lovers. (It’s not that sexy; and you know from experience.) 

The way Sicheng looks makes you wonder how many people have pointed out the fangs tonight. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing.

“Thanks,” he responds, voice his usual deep baritone. 

Jihoon leaves after being unable to draw any more conversation out of Sicheng, some peace gracing you despite everything.

If you ever write a book on how to deal with vampire boyfriends, the first rule would be to never kiss him at night. The fangs are not as withdrawn then and they hurt. (The second is, of course, to never let them get a whiff of alcohol.)

When Sicheng first kissed you, it was midnight and you were at the convenience store to buy a few lunchboxes and instant coffee mix. You’d yelped when his fang had pricked your lower lip, alarming the worker and around fifteen minutes of (dishonest) explanation later, the two of you had left without buying what you came for.

After fretting for a while, Sicheng had kissed you once more with careful consideration—till the damn fangs got in the way again. It was sweet for a moment—like candy—though, the metallic taste of blood had invaded it afterwards. No matter how awkward or painful it was, your elation outweighed the rest. 

Kisses weren’t the only thing interrupted by fangs.

The turtlenecks and scarves certainly raised an eyebrow in your circle of friends. There was concern at first, then teasing and then a whole lot of inside jokes which made you want to smack each and every one of them. (“They’re hickeys, I swear, not vampire bites,” you had informed Ten. “Ew. I did not need to know that.” “Shut up.”)

Even so, Sicheng is warm—always has been, and not on the skin.  

You feel pressure on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you adjust yourself so it’s more comfortable. 

“Tired?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

You shake your head at his lie. Gently pushing his head away, you get up from your seat and pull him up with all of your strength. Linking your arm through his, you smile at him when he raises an eyebrow. It’s time to get home, you’ve decided and these are times when one vote is enough. 

When you reach the front door, stumbling out with your suddenly talkative boyfriend, the autumn breeze hits you. Under the moonlight, the rosy hue over his cheeks is clearer and even more so when he smiles.

“It’s like our first date,” he says. 

You smile back at him.

“You were so embarrassing,” he adds.

Your smile drops and you smack his arm, eliciting a soft complaint from him.

Your first date was the only normal thing in this relationship—a date at the amusement park on Halloween, a bunch of kids mistaking your now boyfriend for Count Dracula and caramel popcorn smeared over your fingers. 

Sicheng sighs, lowering his head to rest his forehead against your shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a moment or two, the party music finally fading and Sicheng’s warmth seeping into you. You fix the lapels of his jacket absentmindedly, fingers tracing over the material. His hands rest lightly against your back yet still secure. 

A kitten lick at your neck jolts you back to reality. You gently push him by the shoulders, finding his fangs bared already. He stays unmoving for a few seconds before closing his mouth and going back to leaning against you, breath falling in waves against your neck.

“I’m not your juicebox, Sicheng,” you snap, frown deepening.

“But you have so much blood,” he mumbles, his forehead hot against your shoulder.

“Sicheng.”

He sobers up a little, pulling back with a stream of pouting apologies. You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Despite everything, your boyfriend is such a child sometimes. There’s a short pause.

“But wait, don’t go biting someone else’s neck,” you quickly add, flustered.

Sicheng suppresses a smile.  

“So I can have a little—”

“No.”

Sicheng pouts but agrees enough to follow you, the two of you moving soundlessly over the sidewalk. Being alone with him has always been easing; you don’t need a crowd for comfort. 

With fingers interlaced, you walk alone with him as the orange street lights cast shadows on the buildings lined up. A few more blocks and you’ll reach your apartment, get to push Sicheng into bed and pray he doesn’t throw up at your front door—and yet still, you walk as slow as you can as if the autumn wind will be gone as quick as it arrived.

The number of people shrink the further you get from the party, and you heave a sigh of relief, glad to be away from, what you and your friends call, the rich neighbourhood. The familiar path to your apartment, no matter the pricing, has much better air to breathe in. It’s past midnight and yet, you can see the city lights in the distance, the ones that never sleep—for the living or the dead.

Something runs into your legs and you jump onto Sicheng, who in turn flinches away with a strangled yelp. 

You look down to see a giant golden retriever in a white blanket which you assume is meant to be a ghost outfit. It wags its tail, sniffing around your boyfriend’s legs, making him giggle as he crouches down to pet the creature.

“I’m so sorry!” 

You look up to find a young girl holding a pumpkin almost as large as her head, an apologetic look over her head. Some part of you is happy to see a costume, considering you were robbed of yours. (Sometimes you dream of matching costumes but again, the damn fangs.)

“Piri loves people, I’m so sorry if he bothered—oh hey dude, cool fangs.”

Sicheng offers the fakest smile ever, accompanied with a thumbs up gesture. You sigh, apologizing to the girl before parting ways. 

“That’s the eighth time tonight,” Sicheng says, scowling almost. “I counted.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. Calm, relaxed Dong Sicheng tends to lose it at repetitive comments with only three sips of beer.

When you reach the apartment building, clouds cover the moon and you draw your jacket closer to yourself. You think for a moment about the inevitability of time and whether you’re even allowed to fall in love this way. You push the thoughts aside almost inevitably. When the time comes, you will have a decision to make—and after everything, it is love which turns people. 

For now, you can enjoy this Halloween night with your (literally) one-of-a-kind boyfriend.

You fumble around with the keys, Sicheng looking at you with sleepy eyes as he leans against the wall. He must be worn out from the alcohol by now.

“Hey,” he calls, the words more muffled than usual. 

You raise an eyebrow, tugging him inside all the while maintaining your balance.

“You know my favourite blood type?” he continues.

You shake your head. “If you’re thinking of feeding, I’ll get some blood bags from Kunhang.”

Sicheng pouts. “You ruined the line.”

“Huh?”

“Yours. Yours is my favourite blood type.”

Despite the terrible execution of his so-called pick-up line, you find yourself shaking with laughter. You’re not sure if it’s the late night or the October air—the two of you share the silliest of laughter at the doorway to your apartment.

Within the moment itself, Sicheng leans in to kiss you and your hands move to run through his hair out of habit. The taste of beer and the prick of his fangs makes you pull away. You look at each other for a moment before you give in anyway and kiss him against the doorframe.

October ends with memories—your first date, Sicheng’s cooking disaster, and now this. It’s blissful for the few moments the two of you let it be. That is, until Sicheng opens his mouth.

“Oh, by the way, can you apologize to Ten for me? I think I bit him thinking it was you.”

“Sicheng, what the fuck?”

October ends with proximity, sweet as candy and warm as toast—stumbling into bed with all that and more.

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 4

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

If you have been reading this series....things are going to start happening....

Title: Dreams, Chapter 4

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3773

Summary: For Sam and the reader, a winter night working together leads to an uncomfortable confrontation and a confusing dream.

Warnings: angst, fluff?, alcohol, swearing, slow burn, I think that’s it!

           The tree was still up a few days later when you were throwing together sandwiches. It was a gloomy afternoon, stealing from the already meager offering of sunlight you got each day, but at least you could see the Christmas lights as you worked in the little kitchen and listened to Me Talk Pretty One Day. Brushing crumbs off your hands, you ducked your head into the bedroom to tell Sam lunch was ready.

           He was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed under him, looking surprisingly young with his long limbs folded. He glanced over at you briefly with a noncommittal nod before turning his gaze back to the wall. You walked into the room when you understood; following his eyes to the photos where you’d taped them up. Toeing off each of your boots, you climbed onto the mattress with him and gently put your arm around his broad shoulders. “He would’ve loved this,” Sam murmured, and it was almost too low for you to hear.

           “Which part?” you asked, trying to match his tone.

           “This cabin, the bar, Christmas.”

           “I think you’re right.”

           You looked over at the pictures, a tight row intentionally placed a little too low so you could see them as you fell asleep. Sam tilted his head to rest on yours.

           “We had a lot of fun though, didn’t we?”

           You considered the memories and the heat coming off of him under your cold fingers. “Yeah, we did.” After a beat you opened your mouth again. “Getting that tree was fun.”

           Sam pulled back and you looked up at him. A sad smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

           You curved your head back into him. “Dean would’ve liked that too.” He was silent for a moment.

           “There’s no way he would’ve worked at the bar and not made every night a party.”

           He was right. Even just passing through, bars like the one you worked at were Dean’s favorite—no frills, honest people, décor not so nice it couldn’t tolerate some spills in the name of a good time. In the right mood Dean would’ve been everyone’s best friend in an hour, taking shots with the owners and playing pool with anyone who had a spare minute.

           You sat upright and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Okay, then tonight’ll be a party.”

           Sam looked at you in surprise. “Uh, what?”

           “You heard me. Tonight, we’re doing tequila shots and dancing on tables and talking to people longer than to take their orders.”

           “It’s a Monday.”

           “Wouldn’t have stopped Dean. Now come eat this sandwich I slaved over, you’re a lightweight on an empty stomach.”

           Sam’s smile was tired, but he obediently untangled his legs and got off the bed to head to the kitchen. You padded after him, letting a deep breath out through your nose. Dean would be so pissed if he saw you weren’t being strong for Sammy, just a little tougher, come on. By the time Sam sat down at the tiny breakfast bar to eat, you’d screwed your face back together.

           In some ways, it was better that you’d had this sudden change of heart on a Monday, when there weren’t so many customers to watch you crumble if it came to that. You had a propensity for being a sad drunk even in the best circumstances, and this first time truly drinking around people since losing Dean was about the worst circumstance as you could imagine.

           A few shots in Sam’s cheeks were flushed and you could feel the heat in yours as you sucked hard on a lime wedge. He was pretending to know about some football controversy with the over-shoulder towel that was ever present when he worked, his legs crossed and accentuating the long, relaxed line of his body. It was an especially cold night and condensation clouded the windows of the bar where hot air met the freezing glass. You watched as a woman about your age—you were pretty sure her name was Megan but had only served her a handful of times—traced lazy shapes in it before replacing the moisture with a hot breath and starting over. It was almost hypnotic and you didn’t know how long it was until you snapped back to reality when Sam’s warm hands wrapped over your shoulders.

           “You okay?” he asked, low and private, straight into your ear.

           “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just tired,” you lied.

           Sam gently and half-consciously kneaded the muscles in your shoulders. Before you realized what you were doing, muscle memory bobbed your head to the side, kissed his rough knuckles, and pressed your cheek to his hand. You both froze.

           “Aw, so cute,” Steve sang out from across the bar top.

           You took your chance to step forward out of Sam’s grip. “Yeah, yeah. Refill?” Steve nodded, and you snatched another Miller High Life out of a mini fridge under the bar and popped the cap with a fluid practiced motion. About a week ago you’d realized that the twist-bottle callus you had just below the first joint of your index finger had come back, a recurrent souvenir that had lasted years after you’d quit bartending last time. You were thankful for it as much as the distraction from your bizarre reflexive step over the unspoken boundary between you and Sam. It wasn’t that the contact was unprecedented, obviously, you could only catch even chunks of sleep tightly wound around Sam and kept your fingers wrapped around his forearm as he drove, but Dean was the last person whose skin your lips had touched. Until now, you corrected yourself. It was a very specific kind of closeness in a relationship already stretching the limits of what appropriate intimacy could possibly be.

           You jammed a cold metal scoop into the ice machine to break up chunks and buy some time. The same grief-hungry part of your brain that searched Sam for facial tics and habits that Dean had couldn’t stop repeating how much those hands felt the same, dry and warm and firm under your lips, under your cheek, and you wanted to clutch at them, a phantom of Dean’s that first stitched you up in Bobby’s kitchen all those years ago when life was easy and bloody, so nervous to touch you his hands shook and the scar still remained to this day. You crashed through those thoughts with a solid thump of This Is Sam Not Dean Sam Your Friend Sam The Only Thing You Have In This World, and how cruel it was to triple distill him down to only the parts that were reminiscent of someone else. Sam, who chopped wood to keep you warm, who restocked beer in the little life you’d created here. Sam, who in his own unfathomable sadness let you latch onto him as a steady point in a storm and kept you afloat just as you had him.

           “Hello?” Joe repeated, a touch of concern peeking through his annoyance.

           “Yeah, sorry! What’s up?” you asked, hearing the shrillness of your voice as you tried to overcompensate.

           “I’m trying to buy you a drink, hon. 5 shots, dealer’s choice.”

           “You, me, Jake, Steve and who?” you asked, racking up 5 sturdy shot glasses.

           “Your Paul Bunyan over there, unless you’re trying to take his too. I’ve never seen you guys really drink before, gotta jump on my chance,” he winked.

           “Oh, okay. Uh, Sam—” you called out across the bar. He was wiping up a spill you knew didn’t exist from the way he focused too hard on the bar top, trying to look busy. He looked up at his name and walked over with his hands jammed in his pockets. His unease was palpable, and your heart sank as you let go of any possibility that he wouldn’t have registered the fleeting kiss and the shift was only in your head. “—Joe’s trying to get you drunk.”

           “Careful, Joe, you think you can carry me home?” Sam joked, and you thought you would be the only one who’d be able to detect the tightness in his throat underneath it. He rubbed a lime wedge on the web of his thumb and poured salt over it before handing you the shaker. You almost dropped it when your fingertips grazed his.

           “To the only people dumb enough to move up here in the winter,” Steve proclaimed, touching his glass to the counter before shooting it. You all followed suit, politely chuckling at the teasing. When you took the lime wedge out of your mouth, Sam had his palm open in front of you. You dropped the rind in his hand and let him take the stack of glasses to the sink.

           It didn’t get as crazy as Dean likely would’ve gotten which was probably good for the bar’s bottom line and your drive back to the cabin, but Sam did end up somewhat accidentally hustling Jake for $100 over a game of pool and singing along to Shania Twain when you put it on. You were careful not to touch him or stare too long the rest of the evening, and by the time you were flipping chairs up for the night you had almost convinced yourself that nothing was different save for a little softness around the edges of the ever-present bolus of sadness in your stomach.

           Sam had two cases of Miller Lite from the basement in his grip, the veins on his forearms popping out as he set them on the ground in front of the beer cooler and crouched to replace the ones that had been drunk that night. You double checked that the cash drawer of the register was even and hopped up to sit on a spare spot of counter.

           “That’s the last one?”

           “Yeah, I already did the Coors and Bud.”

           “Are you good to drive or do you want me to?” You wiggled your toes in your shoes, feeling the ache of standing for hours in the balls of your feet.

           “No, I’m good to drive,” Sam said, shaking hair out of his face. He looked up at you, hazel eyes hard to read with fatigue or fear or pity or some murky combination thereof. You drew tight spirals over orders you’d taken that night, feeling the pen press impressions into the small notepad. The absence of words spread out to close the distance between you, feeling cloying and claustrophobic even as the Nate Bargatze standup you’d cued up piped out through the bar’s speakers.

           “Hey, I—”

           “Are you—” Sam started at the same time. You held out a palm to signal for him to continue, not truly wanting to speak yourself. “Uh, sorry. I just…I—I’m not Dean. I can’t be Dean.”

           The words and deflation in his shoulders made you wish you’d been set ablaze. Stunned, you felt your mouth open and close around words that weren’t materializing, just collecting in your throat and hardening there, the backup starting to choke you.

           “I, uh—I know,” you finally managed to squeak past the lump.

           And part of you wondered if he was right in thinking you were using him as a stand-in. As atypical as the whole situation was, you couldn’t imagine that it was normal to sleep in the same bed and spend virtually every minute together. You began to feel sick at the thought that Sam would be out living up to his potential somewhere if it weren’t for you, back to law school or righting the wrongs of the world rather than in a Northwoods dive bar restocking domestic beers at 2:30 on a Tuesday morning. The selflessness of it seemed unfathomable and yet so entirely something Sam would do. Suddenly it felt like the walls were collapsing around you.

           The moment stretched out and Sam stood up, leaning on the counter across the bar from you. His jaw was set hard and he tilted his head the way he did when he was trying to stop himself from teetering over the edge of tears. “Sam, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

           He cleared his throat but looked down at the nonstick mats on the floor. “No, ah, you don’t need to apologize. I just need you to know I can’t be him for you.”

           You didn’t dare look up in case you met Sam’s eyes as you nodded, so eviscerated and humiliated you were having a hard time taking a deep breath. After a long minute you heard the clink of bottles as Sam finished restocking, grabbed your coat to mumble something about warming up the car, and went to the small parking lot. You managed to make it into the Impala before your vision started swimming and the potential enormity of the situation crashed against you; was this the end of your carved out hideaway, full of grief and memories and comfort and little moments of affection and joy you had just barely started to accept? All for some stupid thought that Dean would be happier if you were out getting wasted, an idea that reduced him to a drifter barfly instead of the complex man who’d been more loyal and loved more deeply than anyone you’d ever met. The tears dried up quickly as self-disgust rolled over you and started ringing in your ears. You didn’t hear Sam coming and jolted when he opened the door, recoiling against the passenger side to give him as much space as possible. He glanced over at you with eyes so pitying that you couldn’t bear to look at them, staring out the window at the abject darkness the rest of the drive home.

           Sam didn’t turn on the stereo.

           Back in the cabin, you quickly shucked off your coat and snatched what you needed out of the bedroom before barricading yourself in for a shower. You didn’t bother taking your makeup off first, allowing the sting of mascara to get washed away in the water. It was too hot and you didn’t care; you only came out when you realized you were going to leave Sam in a cold shower in the last week in December.

           You brushed your teeth in the mirror and took a few deep breaths before sliding out, heading past the open bedroom door straight to the kitchen in order to gulp down a panicked glass of water. Mercifully, you heard the bathroom door lock when Sam entered it quietly. You took the opportunity to grab your pillow out of the bedroom, tossing it on the couch and pulling the throw off the sofa’s back to cover yourself. Your eyes were closed tight and ramming up against your racing mind when Sam came out.

           “You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he said softly from behind you.

           You opened your eyes but didn’t move your head to seek him out. “It’s okay.”

           Sam appeared in front of you, legs bending severely to perch on the short coffee table. His bare chest still glistened a little from the shower and you knew the green flannel pants he was wearing were soft and thick to the touch. Earnest hazel eyes meeting yours, Sam braced his elbows on his knees.

           “Sam, I’m really sorry. It was a weird reflex and it was unfair for me to—”

           “No, I, it—it wasn’t that. It’s just like, sometimes when you look at me, you look like you’re seeing a ghost. I’m just—I need to know you’re not staying here because I’m the closest you can get.”

           If your heart hadn’t been shattered and re-shattered over the last almost- two-years and today, the fear and resignation in his eyes would’ve sent you to pieces. You pushed up to sitting in order to give Sam the respect he deserved.

           “I can’t—I won’t lie and say you don’t remind me of him, but you’re my best friend—been my best friend since I first met you guys—and I am so, so, sorry I made you feel…I could never try to replace him, Sam.” You were barely making sense, having a hard time stringing together how you felt. “The only place I want to be is with you. You’re all I’ve got.”

           It felt desperate and needy but it was true and Sam deserved the truth. You didn’t shy away from him, stayed there holding his gaze until he seemed content having searched your eyes for anything hiding from the light. After a moment he nodded tightly against lips pressed in a firm line. “Okay.”

           Sam stood up, the broad planes of him catching the glitter of the Christmas tree lights. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and tentative. “Can you, uh, can you come back?”

           It took a moment to process before you nodded, standing up and snagging your pillow before following Sam into the bedroom. You climbed into your side of the mattress, close to the wall and your tiny precious gallery, and Sam folded around you, his warm skin seeping through your t-shirt onto your back. You felt tense and comfortable all at once, safe and uneasy. The two of you sat there for a long time, the relatively light weight of Sam’s arm over you betraying that he wasn’t asleep either. When drowsiness finally began to tug your eyelids closed, he pressed his lips to a spot on your shoulder exposed from the looseness of its sleeve. The last thing you remembered was his arm going heavy like an anchor across yours.

           The sun is hot and delicious on your cheeks, baking the cotton of your jeans and t-shirt into you and turning the roof tiles under you into a frying pan. Wispy clouds move with no urgency across the sky above you and you can’t think of anything better than this, glancing down to worn laces on Dean’s boots undone to give his feet some air as his t-shirt clings half-humid to him. You know his freckles are going to be darker by dinner and it makes you smile to think about it but you’ll never tell him—it makes him shy to be reminded of the spray of pigment that makes him feel alternatively feminine or juvenile but never stunning the way you think it should. You press up to your elbows, barely registering the sting of heat and grit of the roof underneath you and kiss the spot on Dean’s arm where his shoulder slopes into his bicep. He smiles down at you, a lazy half-open smirk perfectly framed by the blue sky behind him like a painting.

           “You’re so weird,” he chuckles. “Who kisses someone’s arm?”

           “Then come down here,” you toss back, exaggerated pout ready for him. He ducks down to you, the warmth of his lips on yours like a cookie fresh out of the oven, like sliding down the hallway on new fuzzy socks, like the summer’s first plunge into water.

           Sam’s head peeks out from under the gutter. “Bobby’s putting brats on the grill, do you want any?”

           “Hell yeah, extra onions,” Dean yells down, grinning smugly when you make a face.

           “Me too!” you call out, watching Sam squint up at the roof. 

           “No onions though, right?”

           “You’re the best, Sam.”

           Sam beams up at you, dimples almost high enough to reach the squint-crinkled skin around his eyes. He nods and ducks back out of sight.

           “Come on, I’m thirsty,” Dean says, standing up. He reaches a hand down to you and takes a half step back to brace himself, stepping on the lace of his other boot. He stumbles and it’s a quick shuffle and you realize he’s too close to the edge his next step is into thin air like Wil E. Coyote and you’re grabbing at that same thin air and you can see his face change when he realizes and some part of your subconscious that’s even deeper than this can feel it’s happening again and the sound is so final, such a wet crack but you scrabble to the edge anyway because you have to see and Dean’s lying there.

           He’s clutching his left leg bent against his chest like a stretch. “Son of a bitch, what the fuck!” he mutter-yells, and you hear the thump of Sam and Bobby running through the old house and skittering to a stop in front of him as you carefully shimmy down the porch post with your hands tearing on the gutter’s rusty edge, jumping down when you feel the railing beneath you.

           “Dean! Are you okay?” Sam yells over Bobby who’s cursing out the goddamn idjit told you not to climb up there it’s like having a bunch of teenagers in this goddamned house and Dean winces and nods angrily.

           You’re lifting up the hem of his jeans and gingerly taking off his boot and Dean hisses when you peel off his sock, but nothing is poking through the skin and that’s better than you expected. “Can you stand up?”

           He nods again and you can practically taste him biting back the string of expletives when you and Sam each take an arm and lift him to standing. You snake a hand into his pocket and grab the keys to the Impala, leaning behind Dean to say to his brother, “I’ll take him to the ER.”

           Dean doesn’t argue and it’s yet more evidence that it’s pretty bad, but you feel fine, elated almost, that he’s still warm under your palm and against your side, that he still smells like fresh laundry and domestic beer and a little bit of salt and engine grease. Sam’s long arm opens the door when you get there and slides Dean in and you promise to text when you know how bad it is as you round the car and get to the driver’s side. You turn the key in the ignition and throw your arm around Dean’s seat to reverse out of the driveway. Dean’s looking at you as you throw the car back into drive, staring almost, and his face is soft even around the broken ankle.

           “I’m always going to love you,” he says, smooth and sure of himself. You tug your eyes away from the road with half a question on your face but Dean doesn’t explain why he’s saying this now. “I’ll be okay and I’m always going to love you, no matter what.”

           It doesn’t make any sense and you open your mouth to tease this unexpected sappiness, remind him the ankle is just one more in a long string of injuries he’ll owe you for, and then Dean’s gone, the car’s gone, and the heat is coming from Sam’s chest in front of you. 

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 5

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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📺- ok I’m slowly falling more and more in love with Evil X and I finally have an idea for him!!

Evil X x attention starved!reader

Reader is Evil X’s employee for one reason and one reason only- praise. Evil X hands out praises to anyone like they’re nothing and reader can’t get enough. They’re too shy to ask for his attention outright so they’re constantly working their ass off at the evil emporium so he gives them what they want. Evil X can see how desperate they are and is 100% using it to his benefit, come on, he’s only pretending to be nice. Reader somewhat know that no matter what he says or does, his intentions are still dark and they do feel kinda guilty for helping run a scam… but when he tells them how good they’re doing all that guilt washes away. No one has given them this much attention before and they’re becoming addicted. One “I’m proud of you, you’re doing so well” and they’re a mess. Evil X isn’t really complaining about have a little servant lap dog following him around and listening to his every beck and call. He’s using them, is what Evil X tells himself, but deep down he knows he is starting to care for them a lot. Seeing someone be so excited to work for him? It’s adorable. He doesn’t mind giving you the praise your seeking, and in private he gives you all the sweet nothings you need in order to be putty in his hands.

Well, he is going to use you…. Definitely…. He just… needs to come up with a plan first. Yup! He definitely isn’t doing this because he wants to see his #1 employee happy. Nope. Not at all this is all part of his master plan. It’s not like he likes you or anything!

TELE YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME AAUUG

As sweet as the others are you could find some humor in the fact that you went to Evil X of all people to get your fix of positive feedback. However you justified it to yourself, sure his business is a little shady but it's nothing that would stir up that much concern should anyone else be the founder.

He might have bad intentions, yet all he's ever been is sweet to you. Even if you can see right into his real motive it still doesn't stop you from loving every word of it. Little did you know he was going through his own mental gymnastics to reassure himself that his emotions aren't getting out of hand.

He only keeps you happy to keep you around, and he only keeps you around for the free labor. Absolutely, completely, definitely not because he wants you around and happy as a person rather than an employee, nope not at all- what would give you that idea? It's not as if seeing you smile and blush at his praise melted his heart every single time

[blackmissfrizzle]

No One Has to Know

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Since there isn’t a lot of angel Reyes x black reader imagines going on here I was wondering if u can write a request for me that. You and angel are in a secret relationship because y’all are ten years apart and your mom( who’s mayor) finds out?? Requested by @briannab1234​

Warnings: None for this part

A/N: This was going one way and then it went another, but I hope you all enjoy!

It was a hot ass day in Santo Padre, so it was no surprise that Adrian’s raspa shop was full. Today you were accompanied with your fake group of friends (except for Bryce) aka the group of friends your mom approved of.

When your pickle raspa with chamoy and lucas was finished, you searched for an empty table, only for you to find the one table you didn’t want to sit at because of who sat next to it. The Mayans. Or more specifically Angel Reyes, your secret boyfriend. The argument from last night replayed in your head as you stared at the table.

“Why not?” You yelled, throwing down your bag.

“Because its not smart Y/N.” Angel stared at you through a cloud of cigarette smoke while you paced back and forth.

Sitting in his lap you took his cigarette and put it out. Cradling his face, you kissed him. “What’s stupid about wanting my boyfriend to be my date at my graduation party?”

Angel scrubbed his face in frustration. This argument between the two of you was becoming more frequent. You wanted to make your relationship public, but he didn’t. He didn’t want everyone else to confirm what he already thought. He didn’t want them to say he was a low life and no good for the mayor’s daughter or that he was too old for you (his 34 to your 24).

“Listen, querida we can go public another time. Just take that loser Rob and make sure he keeps his hands to himself.” Angel kissed the top of your head to end the argument.

You hit him in the chest and pushed off him. “Fuck you, Angel! If you just want me to be your little fucktoy and not your girlfriend just say so.” Before he could stop you, you were already out the door. Once again, his insecurities fucked him over.

“Hey, yo, Y/N over here!” Coco’s voice pulled you out of your head. He was pointing to the table next to him. No way you could pretend that you didn’t see the table now.

Starting your way over there Eileen grabbed your wrist to stop you. “How about we just eat them to go?” Her green eyes wide with fear.

You broke out of what she thought was an iron grip. “Its over 100 degrees outside. Trust me they won’t bite, unless,” you leaned in closer to her and dropped your voice lower. “you want them to.”

Leaving Eileen in all her white woman shock, Bryce followed you to the empty table. Both of you greeted the men at the table besides you. You barely gave any energy to Angel while Bryce gave Gilly all her attention due to her crush on him.

Eventually, your friends joined you, still wary of the Mayans. Rob sat next to you and wrapped his arm behind your seat. Angel wanted to break that arm in half.

This midday delight was less enjoyable than you wanted it to be. It was tense and not just because you weren’t talking to Angel. Your friends made it a point to ignore your Mayan friends and while the Mayans did their best to make your snotty friends uncomfortable by making the most vulgar jokes (which were hilarious by the way).

Most of the time, Bryce and you talked to the Mayans. They were by far better conversationalists. Plus, you and Coco had a lot to talk about since you were Letty’s mentor at school.

In the middle of listening to EZ tell an embarrassing story about Angel, Rob saw Angel staring at you a little too long. So, slightly he tilted your chin towards him and kissed you.

You scrambled to end the kiss. In no way shape or form you led Rob to believe you were in a relationship. Even though he was your escort to the party, you explicitly told him that y’all were going nowhere.

When the kiss ended, Angel was nowhere to be found. A great part of you wanted to dump the raspa on Rob, but you didn’t want to make a mess in Adrian’s place. Instead you punched him in the face and left the shop with a bunch of cackling Mayans and Bryce.

It didn’t take you long to find Angel. He was a couple of blocks away at his dad’s carniceria. “Angel, I-”

He held his hand up to stop you. Flicking his cigarette down, he stomped it out. “Done with your ivy league boyfriend?”

“Don’t do that. I wasn’t expecting him to kiss me.”

Stepping down from the stoop, Angel got somewhat eye level with you. “You definitely let him kiss you longer than necessary.”

A black escalade rolled up, revealing up, revealing your mom behind the window. “Y/N, dear we need to get ready for the party.”

“Hi, Ms. Mayor.” Angel waved at your mom and in return she gave him a curt nod.

Patting you on your arm, Angel gave you his congratulations and returned to his father’s shop.

Once inside the car, the tirade started. ‘What did I tell you about those Mayans? Have your fun with them in private not in public.’ ‘Stay away from that Reyes boy. I don’t like how he looks at you.’ ‘You could’ve at least been hanging out with the smart one.’ ‘You should be focused on your career and Rob.’

Every line you heard before and just like every other time you were ignoring each word. Her nor Angel was going to ruin this relationship.

--

“I don’t know, Pops. Maybe I should wait til she gets home, and we can celebrate together. Just the two of us.”

Felipe fixed his son’s tie. “Nonsense, Angel. You’re going to your girlfriend’s graduation party. She wants you there, son.”

“What if I embarrass her?”

“You won’t,” EZ quietly entered the room, dressed up as well. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“We?”

EZ pulled back the curtains to reveal the Mayans all in suits on their bikes. “We got your back, bro.”

Angel squeezed his brother into a tight hug. “Thanks, mano.”

“Let’s go get your girl.” EZ clapped Angel on his back.

--

This had to be the most extra party ever, but extra was your mom’s middle name. All you wanted was a simple bbq, good music, drinks, and your friends. But nope this turned into an extravaganza and networking opportunity for your mom.

“You can’t be here!” You heard your mother’s voice despite her trying to keep her voice down.

Your eyes followed her voice and the sight you saw left you breathless. Angel in a dark striped suit strutting towards you with the rest of the mc in suits as well, trailing behind him.

“What are they doing here?” Rob asked with a mix of fear and disgust. He was truly a horrible person; you didn’t know how you put up with him for so long.

“He came,” you happily whispered. You shoved your champagne flute in Rob’s hands not caring that it was spilling on him. Your only goal was to get to Angel.

The dress you were wearing didn’t allow you to jump Angel like you wanted to. He could see the conflict on your face, so instead he twirled you around to fully admire the way the dress clung to your body and how it brightened the aura around you.

After your 360 turn, Angel twirled you inside his arms, grabbed the sides of your face and leaned down to kiss you. “You look beautiful, querida.” He whispered against your lips, his hand running up and down your leg exposed by the hip high slit.

“Not as good as you,” You bit your lip at the sight of Angel in a suit. His jet-black hair perfectly gelled back, his suit clinging to his body.

“Impossible. Now introduce everyone to your boyfriend.” The slap to your ass didn’t bothered you, in fact you laughed it off and began introducing Angel as the love of your life. The shocked gasps of the stuck-up residents of Santo Padre as you made the introductions did not go unnoticed by you, but you also didn’t give one flying fuck.

On the other side of the room you could not hear the most objected protest of them all. “Get him off my daughter!” The mayor ordered the president of the Mayans.

“No can do, Izzie,” Bishop smirked. Whenever he could he’d like to stick it to the mayor.

“Its Isadora,” she corrected him. “I will not allow my daughter make the same mistakes I did.”

The holier than thou act was grinding Bishop’s gears. There was a time when the mayor wasn’t a stuck-up bitch. “Watch it, Ms. Mayor. If it wasn’t for my fucked up feelings for you, I’d shoot you where you stand.”

“Obispo, please.” Her tone softer, reminiscent of the times she writhed under him. “She has a future. She has a future outside of Santo Padre. Don’t let my daughter-”

“Our daughter.” It was his turn to correct her.

Isadora sputtered. There was only one other person she told the truth to and that because she was caught, and he promised to never to tell anybody. “How did- how did you know?”

“I always suspected, but you kept her in LA with her ‘dad’ most of the time, so I couldn’t confirm until she kept popping up at the club. Easy enough to get DNA for a test.”

In all her being, Isadora wanted to slap the man. “You had no right.”

“And you had no right to keep her from me!” Bishop was upset at all the missed opportunities. You were a lovely young woman and he missed out on the chance to watch you grow up, but now he refused to stay away from you anymore.

Your yelling tore the two away. The unexpected guest getting all the attention now.

“Daddy!” Your arms encircled around the older man. His appearance was a welcomed surprise.

When he got done spinning you around, you introduced him to Angel. The three of you engaging in an animated conversation.

Isadora and Bishop watched off in the corner. Isadora in shock and Bishop in jealously.

“Tell her or I will.” Bishop threatened his old flame before he left heartbroken from seeing his daughter call another man dad.

A/N 2: Were yall ready for that surprise?

Tags: @angrythingstarlight​ @starrynite7114​ @briannab1234​ @chaneajoyyy​ @titty-teetee​ @thickemadame​ @brownsugarcoffy​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @marvelmaree​ @browngirldominion​

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hey, I hope you are 100% ok with found family theme? Because found family theme in Transformers are my favourite trope. For the request, would you do the headcanons for Ratchet, Drift and Windblade with the reader who is a techno-organic?

Found Family is the golden trope above all tropes and 1000% supported on this blog anon don't worry about it. Time for some fluff.

Windblade

·Though she's somewhat new to exploring the galaxy, she knows the value of close friends, and how they can become your greatest support when times are tough. She forges bonds that are deep with those she trusts, and she intends to keep those for the rest of her life. To a certain extent one might say she has a family that's always growing. Granted she doesn't just let anyone in, but her kind nature means she's always seeking out those who need companionship. For you, this worked out rather beautifully from the outset. Unlike so many others your nature didn't perturb her in the slightest. She was merely curious, but upon discovering you were being ostracized she took you under her wing and never looked back.

·Like any found family, she introduces you to the other members and explains to each one in private what you'd endured. The bots she'd never known a day without, Chromia and Nautica, stepped up immediately to help. This family is built on mutual support and protecting one another, so think of yourself as having just gained some very large and powerful but loving bodyguards. Chromia in particular has no patience for bullies. Neither does Windblade, but she prefers to sort things out peacefully if you ever find yourself the target of more bullying. That likely comes from her role as a Cityspeaker, given that communication is her greatest skill, and she extends that to you as well. You'll never find her anything but enthusiastic to listen to what you have to say, and she loves to talk and share her opinions right back.

·Speaking of Cityspeaker duties, however, there's someone else in her circle that you'll get to meet. Titan's aren't just her coworkers, she bonds quite closely with them too, and she likes to help others understand that these gigantic beings can actually be quite lonely. Thus, your newfound family turns out to be much larger than you could have ever anticipated. That's to say nothing of how boundless the love and acceptance proves to be, as for the first time you find yourself surrounded by a judgement free environment, and it's like a breath of fresh air. Anything on your mind can be spoken without fear of rejection! Windblade takes listening incredibly seriously, after all, and so for the first time in your life you speak and are heard. The lack of genetic relations does nothing to stifle the wonder of it all.

·Yet, for her incredibly soft spark, Windblade quickly proves she has no patience for the bias you've become accustomed to as a techno-organic. Comments you were once forced to just endure are now met with fiery resistance from your adopted family. Should anyone ever get the idea they can threaten you, that assumption is very quickly corrected. The Stormfall Sword rarely even needs to be unsheathed for them to learn you're under considerable protection, and even if it does Windblade won't hesitate if she fears you're in any kind of danger, and neither will anyone else on your side. When you ask why they reply as if it's obvious; family looks out for family. They're with you through thick and thin, and you don't have to endure any cross words so long as they're around. Each one promises that much.

·Having endured what you have, it takes some time for you to understand that they mean it, and that they'll never abandon you. Windblade has truly taken you under her wing, as she so often likes to joke.

Ratchet

·Being a medic for a species desperately understaffed with doctors can be exceptionally difficult, especially with such high mortality rates, but that's never stopped Ratchet from caring. He knows every life is precious, and he forms friendships with the intent of them lasting a lifetime. No one is ever going to be uncared for if he has something to say about it. Thus, you more or less find yourself "adopted" by the gruff medic before you can even blink. Though techno-organics often face exclusion from bots, Ratchet has spent enough time performing surgery to know that what's on the inside physically hardly matters in terms of character. He's held the sparks of Autobots and Decepticons alike, and at the end of the day they all look the same.

·That being said, he makes it very clear to you that if anyone gives you a hard time, he wants to know straight away. His famously gruff demeanor isn't all an act, and he can absolutely make a bot regret every single mean word they said to you. Not only that, but he knows how emotional health is just as important as physical, so he makes sure to check in on you quite frequently. It's not our of character for him to sit you down if he sees something is bothering you, at which point he'll gently ask if you'd like to talk and he'll listen. Being busy doesn't mean he won't do everything in his power to make time for you.

·Something people often forget though, and you'll probably be quite surprised to see, is how much he likes to celebrate positive achievements and praise your hard work. Like a proud papa, he'll absolutely gush when he hears you've succeeded at something you've been working on. Not just to you either, if you're okay with it, he'll brag about it to anyone that listens. Confidence is important, so he does everything in his power to make sure you know your worth. The other medics all freely join in as well. Everyone who works in the medical bay gets close to one another, so they become your extended family of sorts, like a gathering of aunts and uncles who all do surgery together. It makes for a surprisingly cheerful crew.

·Upon getting closer to him, you eventually see that Ratchet isn't just acting gruff to cover a soft spark, he's arguably the softest bot on the entire ship. On more than one occasion you've drifted off somewhere only to wake up mysteriously tucked in to your own bed, and when asked he'll simply get flustere and say the mattress is better for your back. Trust him; he's fallen asleep at his desk often enough to know. Should you ever come down with any kind of illness, however, all pretenses of gruffness will dissapear very quickly. You'll find yourself doted on by a very caring docbot, one who encourages you to relax and not strain yourself while he brings you anything you need.

·Being a techno-organic often means enduring so much isolation that receiving any kind of medical care is hard, as neither organics nor bots typically want to treat you. However, as you spend more time with the medic who's adopted you, something begins to become clear. Not only do you receive all the medical attention you need without hesitation, but all the care one requires to truly be healthy. As a family should, he and the others medics look out for your emotional wellbeing too. Your sense of self finally begins to heal as you never knew it needed to.

Drift

·When it comes to being alone, few bots have a greater understanding than a former Decepticon. Even on the Lost Light he's pushed to the outskirts, and thus his precious few friends become lifelong companions that are naturally his family. Having explored far and wide and knowing that the prejudice against techno-organics like yourself is awful, his first action when he saw you was to offer his protection. He'll never let anyone endure loneliness if he can help it. You're surprised by how incredibly warm and affectionate he is right from the start, as his reputation would hardly suggest a bot who welcomes you like a literal ray of sunshine.

·Yet in surprisingly short order you find yourself under the protection of a bot who's simultaneously the friendliest and deadliest being on the ship. Drift checks in with you regularly to ensure you're not being made fun of or even made to feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. He doesn't want to kick anyone's butt, but he makes it clear he absolutely will if you're at risk, and he has the go ahead from Rodimus on that front. Speaking of which, the captain of the ship immediately grants you his own protection as well, stating that anyone who befriends his bestie is good by him. You're happy but incredibly surprised to find two individuals with such different personalities acting like they've grown up together, and the two don't even care about all the ways their perspectives differ!

·Growing closer to Drift only makes you more amazed at how impossibly mellow and relaxed he is. Though the bot could easily best almost any bot on the ship in combat, he's only interested in being friends with his fellow Autobots, hoping to extend the tenets of his religion into all aspects of his life. Though he wants you to convert, there's absolutely no pressure to do so, and he happily accepts your refusal if you decline. The laid back mech shows you the kind of nonjudgemental support system you never knew was possible. When asked about it, he says that he wants you to have a place where you'll always feel accepted, and he hopes to provide that.

·Even more than acceptance, you find him to be incredibly encouraging of all your goals, no matter how small some of them may be. Every time you achieve something he's effusive in his praise. Though he doesn't say why, eventually you put together that he sorely lacked the same in his youth. No doubt, he wants to provide you with everything he was missing. Whether he's more akin to a dad, uncle or cool brother becomes irrelevant over time. In time you come to realize what matters is you have someone who will always be in your corner. Should you ever need positive reinforcement of any kind, it's merely a request away.

·It takes time for it all to really sink in that you've been adopted more or less, all without your new family ever mentioning as much. In fact, Drift so naturally welcomed you into his life you're not sure he realized it either. The ninja bot is simply so loving and accepting you could forget there's a harsh universe out there every time he pulls you in for some comfort after a hard day. The peace of having such a system of support is indescribable.

[wtf-yoongi]

“I’ve never seen him like this.”

pairing | hoseok x reader

summary | basically hobi dating someone normal and it has completely ruined him because he’s so in love

genre/warnings | it’s fluffy it’s cute it warms my heart

words | 1,114

note | i read a tweet and this came out of it. yes. a tweet. from some random person i don’t even know. yup.

The only thing in Hoseok's mind is that you have ruined him. For good.

He raises his eyes to look at you from where he's sitting, trying to look as cool and composed as possible when on the inside he knows he’s positively – and sickeningly – infatuated.

Honestly, what is this thing he’s feeling?

Hoseok watches his hands carefully after lowering his eyes again, playing with his fingers nervously. He doesn’t think he has actually felt like this before and, to be fair, it scares him to death – it’s exactly the sort of thing he thought would never happen to him. To me? Oh, no, not a freaking chance, he would say. But there he is, feeling his fingers become moist all of a sudden despite being freezing cold while his whole body grows warm just from the sight of you.

You’re laughing lightly now, lifting a hand to cover your mouth after Jimin tells a silly joke and whines at something Yoongi mentions. The round table makes it easy to interact with others and you seem to fall right into place even though you’re at an unfamiliar and foreign one. Your questions and concerns about where is it, who’s coming, what do I wear and this really isn’t my usual thing from before seem like nothing but a distant and – to Hoseok – unreasonable fear.

He has always tried his best to make you feel comfortable, avoiding some things and places and presents he so desperately wants to give to you. He holds back because he knows some things don’t sit right with you even when you say you don’t mind them. Hoseok just knows you’re way too careful when it comes to that – to making sure that he knows you’re not in this for the fame, the money, the leverage, the expensive gifts or whatever. You’re in this because of him.

Hoseok knows. You don’t have to do anything to prove it to him. But you keep doing it anyway. 

Deep inside, he hopes that one day, after all the times he has reassured you there’s no need to convince himself and everyone around him of that, when there’s no need to justify actions anymore – he just hopes he can treat you the way he wants to. He would love to spoil you if you allowed him to. Maybe a spa day? Maybe he could buy that earring you keep adding to the cart and removing it the next second because it’s a little bit over your budget? Maybe his favorite Japanese restaurant?

It doesn’t matter. Hoseok just wants to treat you like the angel you are.

His cheeks get warm for the millionth time tonight, thinking about all the ways you would whine and tell him he didn’t have to whenever he came to your place with something in his hands. Just to add to that, Hoseok feels your right hand land on top of his and raises his head to meet your loving stare. It’s suddenly too warm to be inside wearing a long-sleeved shirt.

“It’s getting late, don’t you have to work tomorrow morning?” You ask kindly, not moving your hand away from his. Hoseok remembers all of a sudden – he did mention he had to be at the studio earlier than usual on the next day. He quickly nods and you’re soon speaking again, voice as soft as before. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

Hoseok nods yet again, straightening his body to call for a waiter. When he looks back at the table, Jimin is staring at him from under his eyelashes with a knowing look and a matching smirk. He knows. Hoseok hasn’t mentioned anything, but there’s also not much he can hide from people who have known him for so long.

After he pays for the dinner and everyone thanks him, you all get up to leave. The separate restaurant area has a somewhat private entrance, leading to a small parking lot where you have all stopped your cars earlier. Hoseok’s car is further away and, unfortunately, conversation dies down and is replaced for bows and hand waves. Yoongi is a few steps behind, but Jimin is closer and can’t help the half-hug he gives you.

It is only a second long, but enough time for him to faintly and discreetly whisper into your right ear. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

When you separate, you look at him with wide eyes and he does nothing more than flash you a warm smile followed by a wink. It surprises you as you’re not that close and have only met a handful of times, but he seems completely unbothered, waving his hands and saying goodbye louder than he should for this time of night before entering his car to leave.

What did he mean by that? Did he mean what you think he did or something else entirely? You can’t help but think this is something that might keep you awake at night.

“See? Not as weird, right?”

You’re startled by Hoseok’s voice speaking so close to you again, soon feeling a hand lightly touch your back. You take a deep breath and exhale to get rid of those thoughts Jimin so easily put in your head.

“You mean entering a restaurant through a private access and sitting in a reserved and restricted area?”

Hoseok laughs lightly, wrapping both arms around your middle this time. He feels you rest your head on his shoulder, but the calm moment only lasts for a second before you’re speaking again. 

“I don’t think I can get used to that. It’s not awful, it’s just weird,” you say and pause for a moment before adding a needed explanation. “Please, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that half the things that happen in your life are simply not real in mine.”

The conversation is briefly interrupted by smiles and waves directed at Yoongi’s and then Jimin’s vehicles leaving the parking lot. Only a heartbeat passes before you’re both stood in front of Hoseok’s black coupe car and he’s speaking again.

“Well, but I’m 100% here,” he jokes for a moment, but lowers his voice for the next. “I’m sorry we have to do this sort of thing. It’s just that…”

“I get it,” you interrupt gently, turning your face to watch him closely and move a strand of hair away from his eyes. “You don’t need to apologize. We have talked about this before, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“To me you’re just Hoseok, I don’t care about anything else,” you add, looking around to make sure the whole place is empty before leaving a light kiss on his cheek. “That’s more than enough for me.”

Read more ›› masterlist

[theanxiousstudentblog]

What I've learned from the first year of university: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Three years later than expected, I finished my first year of university. At first, admittedly, it didn't feel like much; I submitted my final assignment, logged off of my student account, and went to watch the new series of The Real Housewives. It wasn't until a few weeks had passed that I was finally hit with how much this milestone meant to me and all the emotions that came with finally getting through the first academic year as a university student. This may not seem like a big achievement to some (I remember how in sixth form we were always made to believe that the first year of university was a piece of cake and way easier than A-levels) but, for me, it has been a rollercoaster ride of ups and downs. These emotions and thoughts are what have inspired me to write this post, specifically the feeling that university can be very very different from what you expect.

How I got here.

When I was younger, one of my sole dreams was to go to university. This may have seemed odd to some as I suffered from extreme anxiety when I was younger and actually refused to go to school between the ages of 7 and 9. However, it was never the academic side of schooling that worried me but the social side and being away from my family. I loved learning and I knew that I wanted to take my academic career to the highest possible level I could. The idea that I could pick any subject that I was interested in and do a whole course solely centered on teaching me as much as I could absorb was infatuating to me. It was for this reason that I spent so much effort making sure that I achieved good grades, despite my time off. I had my sights set on a prestigious university in London and in 2018 I received an offer to study there. However, instead of feeling excited about my future, I was engulfed with a feeling of dread. Unfortunately, due to events in my private life, my anxiety which had previously been kept under control by CBT and medication began to skyrocket. I would later learn that I developed complex PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) during this time. For the sake of keeping this blog post to a somewhat reasonable length, I will keep this account brief by saying that these difficulties eventually led to me pulling out of the London university and I decided to go to a local uni closer to home after taking a year off for my mental health (for a more detailed account you can look at one of my previous IG posts published 24/05/20).

Expectations vs...

I was excited for what awaited me at my local university; it was close enough to see my family whenever I wanted but still gave me the independence that I felt I needed to grow. Moving day came and went and it seemed to be going pretty smoothly, albeit some hiccups that came with my anxiety. It is important to note that I gave the university's wellbeing service a heads-up about my conditions before moving in so, at first, I felt confident that if I had any issues they would be able to work through them with me. However, over the next couple of weeks, my anxiety grew and grew, finally reaching its peak when my housemate turned around to me and told me that I needed to shut it about my mental health issues and stop hanging out with her. This triggered a major episode in my PTSD and I suddenly felt like I was spiraling out of control. However, despite my attendance beginning to drop and the multiple times I was having to leave lectures early due to panic attacks, I still sustained a level of confidence that my university would be able to give me the reasonable adjustments that the wellbeing team had spoken to me about before starting the term. Sure, they hadn't got back to my emails with any tangible support in weeks, but they couldn't just leave me like this...could they? All throughout my schooling, I was made to believe that educational settings were environments where any appetite to learn was nurtured and fed; education meant an opportunity to achieve anything you worked hard enough for, despite your background, disability, or start in life. Wouldn't universities be the ultimate conceptualization of this meritocracy?

Reality

Unfortunately, this vision would be quickly shattered by the stark reality of my treatment by my head of department and the well-being team. I go into more detail about this treatment in the IG post mentioned previously, but in summary I was given two choices: I get my attendance back to 100% with no support/reasonable adjustments from the university, or I leave/defer until I was "better". There was no comprehension from the uni that this wouldn't have a definable recovery date; I've been dealing with long-term mental illness since I was a child and it is something I've learned to live with alongside the appropriate support. To wait until I was "better" would potentially mean waiting forever. On top of that, I went out of my way to prove to my department that I was keeping up with my work and had achieved top marks on the most recent assignment but little recognition was given to my current grades. From the weeks since I started at university I'd met multiple people who had little passion in their subject or who were just at university because they thought it was what they should do. No hate to these people (I think the pressure young people face to go to university is a whole 'nother issue in itself) but I couldn't help but compare myself to them. The university didn't care that they had a whole student population of disillusioned young people who were indifferent to their academic fields but drew the line at a motivated student who suffered from mental illness. It became clear this wasn't an environment for people like me who were simply viewed as a wrench in the works. In December 2019, I was given no other option but to drop out of my university.

Starting again and the lessons I have learned

What was the worst blow to my mental health? Being kicked out because of my mental health...Having to leave university was a massive blow to my self-esteem and I began to catastrophize what that meant for my future. Luckily I had my family for support and my mum pushed me to look into the Open University, an institution based on distance learning. I enrolled part-time for the start of February (unfortunately I had missed the cohort to start full-time) and decided to focus on my therapy. This actually worked out great for me as in 2020 I was diagnosed with PTSD and started EMDR so being a part-time student gave me enough space to process the emotions that came up in my treatment. The Open University has been so helpful in making sure my needs are met and I have been so grateful to finally find an inclusive learning environment. It is definitely not how I planned to be experiencing university and I still do feel some disappointment in not getting the full "student experience" but it has also taught me some valuable lessons and given me a new insight into how far our education system still needs to go. These are the things I have learned:

Education isn't about degrees or academic prestige. Education is about a person's desire to learn, whether that be through books or the sheer act of being. Everyone requires different conditions to which they need to learn and thrive, and unfortunately, many academic institutions tend to expect us all to be cut from the same cloth. Despite this, no one can take away your passion to learn, and as long as you're living, you are learning.

There can be no equality without equity. The truth is people enter schooling from all different backgrounds and circumstances and it is not enough for institutions to treat everyone the same. In terms of mental health, many people are quick to say they recognise that mental illness can be just as debilitating as physical illness however until they put the actions and policies into place to make environments more tolerant and accessible then their words mean nothing. This means taking the time to talk to individual students about what they require and realise that the most important thing that a university can do is create a place where EVERYONE can learn. Schooling creates the foundations on which the future of our society is built and the fact that inclusion is barely making it on the blueprint is scary to me.

COVID has shown that in this digital age, attendance ISN'T everything. If only I could go back to that final meeting with my head of department and tell him that in a few months time everyone's attendance would be at 0%! Seriously though, this is a wake-up call to how simple accessibility can be if you just invest in a good digital learning platform that allows for people who can't attend in person to still be included.

You can be an academic and still put your mental health first. Despite what my first university led me to believe, my time at the OU has shown me that you do not have to sacrifice one over another. In fact, it has shown me that my mental health recovery and student journey can work hand-in-hand, encouraging each other along.

But most importantly...

It has shown me that despite the pressure to make your university years fit into a nice, neat package of fun, good grades, and self-enlightenment, it most likely won't happen like that. That's okay, let it go and keep moving.

[mushroom-for-art]

Soo I made some ocs for Rhyme and Reason made by juicedoesthings. Hopefully art inspiration stays with me enough to draw these guys with their characters! Meet Bo-Beep and Ornet!

Bo-Beep is a carebot, they were made to take care of someone before he inevitably died. Reference shows when she was likely first activated brought to life with magic as I'm not 100% how it works though in later depictions she will have clothes as I assume robots when activated get to like, choose their outfits?? Idk but she was activated with adult intellect and full caring knowledge obviously and has been active for 23 years. Now I'm not sure how the system works so this is me spitballing but I assume that care robots like people need to have a license to do so to keep track of obvious the robots caring people probably for insurance reasons and to make sure they're not practicing with outdated knowledge, the gentleman she was caring for died not long after she updated her licence which would be a private one meaning she could only care for that person so currently would be in the process of getting a public care licence to let her legally care for more people this likely involves tests updates lots of chasing people up and paperwork but she's getting there fighting her programming to care for anyone she can until she can legally do so. Bos wool is natural likely attributed to magic and can create static to help recharge her batteries to keep her running throughout the day, her face is actually a screen though when using it normally it's hard to tell but when damaged or endangered Bo will enter a defensive mode, likely attributed to the man who built her trying to keep out robbers building a robot might have been expensive he likely had objects he wanted to protect, and her face will become blank, usually like this she will let out a defensive blast of electricity from two horns that can extend from her head this will leave her slightly tired especially if she uses it multiple times. She is fitted with a defibrillator and scanning technology to allow her to scan people objects foods most anything to be able to determine life signals, density, radioactivity or isolate allergens a very useful tool. Bo enjoys wearing different clothes and expressing themselves different ways and are used to being referred to as she or they and happy to respond to it, despite their programing they have a somewhat naivity to them in the sense they will assume friend if friendly tone. Currently likely has a store job somewhere until she can get her license and lives with Ornet!

Next up is Ornet! Who is a grumpy angsty engineer mechanic robot Doctor guy, he has a license for it he got his whole degree in robotics and engineering mechanical fixtures so legally can fix up a robot and often helps patch up Bo-Beep in exchange for lemon pie, seeing as furries exist he's a bird furry or feathery I'm not sure, but he's also part slime (specifically blue slime) so is in a sense a hybrid due to magic, because of his slime genetics his interior is made of the stuff and cutting him open would reveal a blue slimy form with certain areas having more muscular properties to correspond with his external appearance, I imagine there's a layer of more stretchy slime that behaves like a skin layer with the feathers growing out, it's very possible he's all slime just the feathery genetics let's him copy the dna structure of their features and look like a normal feathery furry bird person. He was in an accident when young that severed his leg from his body with the limb being destroyed so it couldn't reattach, meaning now he uses a metal leg likely of his own design to get around though will use crutches if working on his leg. Has a nasty smoking and drinking habit both of with Bo-Beep is trying to curve to little avail, he smells of machinery oil and cigarettes. Has defaced multiple Bible to hide alcohol flasks inside. Ornet likely needed a lodger to make ends meet for the bills and Bo-Beep was luckily the perfect if sometimes annoying candidate. Being part slime Ornet also has a confusing relationship with the concept of gender, as slimes likely don't have genders though he jokes slime is a gender in of itself and will go by he/it and Slale (Slime Male, at least he's having fun with it) and generally prefers to wear oversized hoodies and baggy clothes when out and about, though when inside having a smoke it's more of a dicks out look he's allowed he pays the rent.

Oh I wonder how Rhyme is going to make their lives hell (she says as if she hasn't thought of It)

[belovedbangtan]

Now & Later | pjm

Idol!Jimin x Reader | established relationship|

Word Count: 2k

Description: After months of only being able to see your boyfriend via Face Time, it was time you flew to see him in person. His schedule is hectic though, but he makes sure to take care of you.

Warnings: language, SMUT, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!), Slight Dom!Jimin & Sub!Reader, just a good ol’fashioned QUICKIE.

*not my GIF, credit to the owner!*

When I fell in love with an international Pop-star, I knew my time with him would be limited. Both of us were working on our careers and I loved that about our relationship. Late night Face Times- early morning for him- was how we handled our sexual cravings for each other. Most of the time, it would help. Recently, however, the phone calls weren't cutting it. My finger tips would tingle with the anticipation of touching him. Night after night, my dreams were only of him. Him and all of the things I needed to do with him, in person.His arms looked bigger, and I needed to wrap my hands around his biceps. His lips looked juicer than ever before and I needed them pressed all over my body. I decided it was time for me to use some of my vacation time and fly out to see my boy.

Of course, whenever I chose to come was fine. Unfortunately, I chose one of the busiest weeks on his tour to come see him. Of course, I did.

As soon as I arrived my luggage was being hauled away to the hotel room, and we were all being shuttled to where his interview was. His arms tight around my figure. I inhale his scent deeply, which instantly made me want to rip his clothes off. Rushing words from their manager has Jimin pulling my hand through the other boys, finally finding a somewhat private spot in the back of the bus.

He pulls me onto his lap, his hand flying up to brush the hair out of my face, “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

I lean down slowly, audibly sighing into his mouth when his lips meet mine for the first time in months, “You have no fucking clue.” I lean into him more, my arm wrapping around his neck, placing light kisses to his neck and the shell of his ear.

“Baby, there is nothing I want more than your lips all over me… but I’m about to do a live interview and probably shouldn’t have a hard on,” He whispers into my ear.

I pull back biting my lip, my face bright red from a mixture of lust and embarrassment. I hear him chuckle lightly before pulling my face to his again.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have time eventually. And when we do…” His eyebrows raise and his bottom lip gets pulled in by his teeth, sending a shiver up my spine. He knew his lips were my weakness, so he liked to incorporate them as much as possible.

“Okay we’re here!” someone yells, pulling us out of our tunnel vision.

That interview lasted about 4 hours, the next one was almost 3. Just when I thought we were going to have some alone time, we had to be shuttled to the venue to start rehearsal. I insisted that I was obviously fine with the busy schedule to keep Jimin from apologizing as much as he had been. Honestly, I was okay with it, it was the aching between my thighs that was getting unbearable.

Jimin was out on the stage with the boys rehearsing for the performance, I overheard their manager explaining their timeline to an assistant. I silently groan when he doesn't mention anytime for a break in between now and the show.  Suddenly I hear my name being sang through the loud speaker. I quickly look from their manager to the stage turning giddy when I see a cheeky Jimin waving to me. I laugh and smile back, blowing him an over exaggerated kiss.

Everything about him made my body ache in the most wonderful way. The way his lips brushed the microphone made my toes tingle. The way is body would effortlessly hit every beat of the choreography. How his sweatshirt would lift up every once in awhile to show me his chiseled abs. The way is hair stuck to his face when he started to get a little sweaty, had me envisioning how sweaty we would be getting later.

I turned away quickly realizing that it was only making my want grow more. I followed my feet to the backstage lounge area, where some of the hair and makeup crew were waiting to get started on the boys. You had gotten to know most of them pretty well since you and Jimin had been together for nearly a year.

“Y/n!”  Dae, Jimin’s main stylist, yells as she recognizes me, “when did you get here?!”

I wrap my arms around her tiny figure, “This morning! It’s been too long, I figured I would fly out.”

“Too long, hmm? Face Time not cutting it anymore?” She raises her eyebrows making me laugh instantly. She was joking but she was 100 percent spot of which was the funny part.

“You have no idea,” my eyes widen as I shake my head.

“I’m sure that’s the first thing you guys did,” she starts giggling.

“Actually, it’s been a pretty busy day for him. That’s okay though, I’m sure I can get some kind of sexual gratification just from staring at him if I try hard enough,” I start to giggle, noticing the look on her face had changed, she was smirking and she was fixed on something behind me. Just I turn to see what she was looking at, I feel a familiar pair of muscular arms wrapping around my middle.

His lips finding my neck this time kissing his way up to my ear before he stops to whisper, “I’d like to give you sexual gratification in another way if that’s okay?”

I turned around swiftly in his arms, looking up at him with my chest practically heaving, unable to catch my breath. Before I could think of what my next move was, his hand was tight in mine and he was pulling me to God knows where. We get to his dressing room, and he peaks his head inside looking from the left to the right. Once he knows no one is in the room, he swiftly tugs on my hand pulling me inside. In one movement he slams the door behind us then pins my body to the other side. My eyes raise to meet his lust filled ones. He lifts one of his hands and slowly tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. My breath hitches when his hand continues down the front of my body, stopping when he reaches the hem of my dress.

His fingers tease my thigh as he drags my dress up, “Mm, did you wear this dress on purpose?” he rasps as his lips ghost the shell of my ear.

Any ounce of self-control I had, immediately went out the window, “Maybe.”

He laughs, a full but quiet laugh. I could feel the corners of his mouth pull up into a grin as he continued to nip at my neck. His hands now toying with the strap of my thong, pushing them down my legs.

“Well…” his lips press against my collar bone, “I’m glad you wore it,” his hands cup my breast forcing a growl from my throat. I can feel his hard on pressing against my thigh and I don’t think I can handle any more teasing.

“P-please Jimin.”

“Such a needy baby, hmm?”

The next few seconds flashed by in a blur. His hands took purchase on the backs of my thighs as he lifted me up. My legs wrapping around his hips and my arms around his neck. In that short period of time he managed to pull his own pants down. My back is pushed up against the wooden door, with one hand he reaches down and lines the head of his cock up with my entrance and slides it inside at an agonizingly slow speed. His lips immediately attach to my neck, “Fuck, so wet for me.”

My hands reach up to his long hair, the hair that I had been dying to run my fingers through for months, “You feel so good. I missed your cock, ” I moan as my fingers tighten in his hair, tugging gently.His breath hitches and his pace quickens, his hands tight around my hips as he pulls me into him.

“Been craving you so bad, love how you feel baby,” He praises in-between moans, “Fuck, you’re close, I can feel it.”

With each thrust my walls tighten getting closer and closer to my release. The second his teeth bit down on curve of my neck; I was done. My legs stiffened around his hips, a moan falls from his lips when he feels me clench hard around him.

“Right. Fucking. There,” I demand as I start to come undone around him.

“Let go Princess, cum for me,” He coos into my neck, and that’s all I need to push me over the edge. Within seconds he was right there with me, his seed painting the inside of my walls. Leaving a dripping mess down my thighs.

As if on que, Namjoon starts to knock on the door- the door I was just fucked against, “Jimin, you need to go to hair and makeup!”

“I’m coming!” He yells, as we hear the boys snicker from the other side of the door. Apparently, the door wasn’t soundproof, and we were definitely not quiet. His cheeks turned a shade of red that I had never seen before.

He sets me down on the sofa and rushes to find a towel to clean me with. Finally clean, we adjust ourselves in the small mirror, making sure we looked okay before leaving the room.

“Are you satisfied for now?” He says with a devilish grin.

“As long as I get more of you later.” I smirk at him as he chuckles silently, leaning over to press a kiss to my temple.

I start to walk to the door and before I can I feel his hand grabbing mine, as he pulls me into him. His hand finds my jaw and his lips press to mine in a much more intimate way.

“I really have missed you,” He whispers as he rests his forehead against mine. I inhale as I pull him impossibly closer to me.

He pulls back and nuzzles his way through my hair kissing the area just below my ear, “After the show, I want to take my time with you,” he tells me before running his tongue along the shell of my ear.

Another set of banging on the door distracting us again. He pulls back and inhales deeply, looking down at me briefly before kissing me on the forehead.

“Sounds like we have a long night in store,” I tease, bringing my lower lip in between my teeth.

With another quick kiss he was gone, and I was left to think about the ways he was going to ‘take his time’ with me.

_________________________________________________________

A/N: Hey! Let me know what you think! It’s what fuels me :) Also, Im lowkey wanting to write a before and after to this story. Possibly like the phone sex they have when they’re apart, then the night they have following this. Whatcha think?