#sorry if this ends up in tag i do not mean for it to do so 😔

[mono-dot-jpeg]

inextricably bound - viktor, jayce

summary; stuck in a plane above all else but at least you're together

genre/extra tags; oneshot, fluff, bad jokes?, a dash of angst?, czech viktor, jayvik are canon fuck whatever christian linke was saying, just two bros being soulmates in every timeline and they're each others everything (but not in a gay way am i right chat /j), god forbid two dudes be canonically gay in every timeline, sorry im pissed off, im coping with jayvik being gone, OOC jayvik??, i dont know how to write for jayce well, jayvikreader poly sloppy toppy (jk), it's like implied that reader just got pulled in and doesn't know the dramatic moment they had n the astral plane before finally making up., headcanon that the astral plane is almost like being in limbo for death or reincarnation

[reader's gender not specified or mentioned]

word count; 808

a/n; can you tell im mad that there are jayvik non believers? like hate them all you want, but you can't just say that they were just bros and im glad most of the fandom can understand that. am i absolutely greedy for viktor? yes, but im not taking him away from his literal soulmate/twin flame/whatever the fuck gay shit they got going. also i feel like this isnt my best work but anyways enjoy :)

empty.

that's what being in the astral plane feels like. but it's calm. most of your body is engulfed the stars that you once looked up to. now you were part of that. not as a star but as a being. your face is illuminated a white gold shimmer.

"love?" a voice echoes and before you know it, two familiar faces are close to yours.

"vik? jayce?" your voice echoes in the listless space. and it's only then do you register how.. normal they look again.

despite the stars that cover their body and shimmering light of the ethereal, they look like themselves. it was the viktor and jayce you knew. your hands move, your body floating as you hold viktor's face.

"it's you. viktor.." the mentioned male looks at you, guilt and love in his eyes. jayce's hand rests on the small of his back, a silent encouragement for the shorter man. "it's you.." your voice trembles. viktor can't look you in the eye until jayce's hand gently nudges him, and it's only then that he sees the absolute love pouring from your eyes. "i should be more concerned that we're stuck here, but fuck.. i missed seeing you."

you can't exactly cry in the astral plane. your tears end up sparkling and twinkling away and become part of the galaxy you've been pulled into.

"miláček.." you don't even realize how much you've missed his normal voice until now. even if it did have that ethereal echo, it was still him. your viktor. your forehead presses against his for just a moment.

"you... i have a lot to say, but let me be happy for just a moment." viktor tenses at your words, but he relaxes in your touch. you pull away to give jayce the love you missed giving him.

"jayce.. you did so well. more than well. i don't know everything of what you experienced, but you never gave up. didn't know i could be more thankful for you." jayce smiles brightly at your words as you hold his face between his hands in appreciation.

he looks at you with that look he used to give you and viktor when things we once normal. that silly lovesick grin on his face, but you know he can't express how thankful he is for you and him. "i missed you so much, too. you have no idea." he said softly.

"now, with that out of the way, what exactly happened?" the two men look at each other before slowly explaining how everything started and ended with them. and they definitely ended it, seeing as they were taken here by the crystal that jayce held so dear to him. "but why am i here then? i mean, it makes sense for you two to be here. you're basically soulmates."

"don't say that, miláček. we love you too. whether you're in this timeline or not." viktor said gently, floating to you and holding you in his arms. "we won't allow you to think so lowly like that. especially when jayce is around. and especially because that line of thinking does not seem to do well for us. my insecurities blinded me to want to fix everything to a dangerous degree.." he confesses.

"you’re ours whether you like it or not. and it's not like we can find a way to leave here." jayce smiled softly, his large arms wrapped around yours and viktor's shoulders. he hugs you two close, not missing a moment to hold you both in his arms.

"i guess it was really meant to be when i said you're both stuck with me forever." you joked, kissing them on the cheek. "but we're really stuck here?"

after your kisses, viktor starts giving his share of kisses. "it would seem so. not that i'm complaining." jayce joins in on the sweet kissing session, making sure to give as much as he could before you or viktor start telling him to stop. echoing laughter rings out in the empty void. the cold of the astral plane could never make you shiver when you were with the men who did nothing but give you warmth.

"maybe we'll just reincarnate. do you believe in reincarnation?" you asked between kisses. they pause for a moment, contemplating your words.

"eh.. well, i'm sure it wouldn't be crazy to believe in reincarnation." viktor said with the slight tilt of his head, his look silently conveying his uncertainty but uncaring of it.

"if we do get reincarnated, i'll make sure to find you two before anything else." jayce whispered, his face firm with determination and love.

"that's so sweet. and sappy." you laughed lightheartedly.

the two men can't help but join in with their own laughter and just for a moment, the stars twinkle a little brighter as if joining in on the joy.

[covenofagatha]

Okay hear me out Agatha x Reader age gap fic. The reader and Agatha have been together for awhile I was thinking like she used to be your college professor before you graduated, The reader has a monthly night out scheduled with friends from school but Agatha like usual declines in your offer to join you all. Agatha just doesn’t have interest in the “young people bars” and hanging out with old students is strange to her, though it’s a little upsetting you don’t push too much before relenting and going on your way. A little bit into the night despite your efforts in avoiding said persons advances you’re being continuously hit on by either a stranger in the bar or a friend from the group that is your choice! But the resolve would be Agatha showing up cause she felt guilty about always declining, her witnessing and then defusing the situation (jealously obviously). I absolutely love possessive Agatha and love everything you’ve written so far! Whether it ends in smut is also completely up to you!!!

Hope you enjoy and thank you for the very detailed request!! This will be a two-parter and the next part will be based on a request I got about jealous reader x Professor Agatha.

A lesson in jealousy (Part 1)

Agatha gets jealous when she finds you at a bar and a guy is already talking to you.

Word count: 2100

Tags: marking, jealousy, making out, slight thigh grinding

“I was thinking of ordering pizza for tonight?” Agatha muses, already looking at you when you turn your head to face her. 

You’re sitting on the couch in her office, nose buried in a book for one of your other classes. Agatha was your professor two years ago and there had been a spark, at least on your end, so you had kept in touch. 

It wasn’t until a year ago when you had bridged the gap between a professional relationship and something more when you had kissed her one night after getting drinks at a bar across town. 

You had immediately pulled back, apologizing incessantly, but much to your surprise, she had dragged you back in for more. 

That night was the first of many that you spent in her bed. 

Although she was no longer your teacher, you still attended the college that she worked at, so there was a bit of a gray area. Meaning, you two had to keep it under wraps. 

“Oh, sorry,” you say, finally answering Agatha’s question. “I’m going out with my friends tonight. It’s our monthly bar trivia thing that we always do. I think I told you.” She hums and you frown. “What?” 

Agatha shrugs. “Seems like we haven’t had a quiet night in awhile, that’s all.” 

“You could always come tonight,” you offer hopefully. Her nose wrinkles and she raises an eyebrow and you know why she’s being like this. “You could just happen to show up and I’ll just happen to see you and I’ll invite you to join our team. It’ll be fun!” 

And yet you know her answer before she even says it. “That’s not really my scene, baby.” You pout and slouch down further into the couch. She has never once taken you up on an invitation, even though you practically beg her every time. She rolls her eyes exasperatedly. It’s an old game for both of you. “Come on, hon, you know I have no interest in going to a bar with a bunch of college kids on a Friday night where everyone will be drinking and making noise and I taught most of your friends. I just think that it will be weird.” 

A flash of anger bubbles up to protect you from the hurt you feel deep down. Would it kill her to do something for you? “I’m also a college kid who will be out drinking and ‘making noise’ and you were my professor two years ago. Is that weird?” 

She sighs heavily and pushes her chair back, patting her thighs. She wants you to come over, but you grit your teeth and don’t give in. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant, obviously. Just spending my Friday evening with a bunch of college kids isn’t what I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

You stand up, shoving your books and laptop in your bag and Agatha scoffs and says your name. You meet her eyes, disappointment written all over your face. It kills you to show her how much her rejection hurts, but you’re tired of it. 

“Come here, please,” she says softly. You grumble but obey. You slide off your backpack and sit on her laps, tensely putting your arms around her neck. Despite how mad you are, you still fiddle with her strands on her nape that aren’t in her bun. She leans in to kiss your lips but you don’t let it go any further than a press of her mouth against yours. You won’t give in that easily. 

“You never come,” you whine. 

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know, sweetheart. I just worry it might be risky for us to be seen out in public like that. Why don’t you come over after and we can have a movie night or something? I’ll take you to a bar tomorrow night, I promise. Just the two of us.”

You can see there’s no use trying to fight her on this. No matter what you say, she won’t come with you and you’d rather not have to open up and tell her how you want to just spend a night with the most important people in your life: Agatha and your best friends. You also feel a little insecure about being so young. She is over twice your age and you worry that sometimes you aren’t enough for her, or that she thinks you’re too immature. “Okay,” you say, voice small. 

She squeezes your waist and gives you another peck. “That’s my girl. Don’t come over too late and I’ll make it worth your while.” She winks and you force a smile and climb off her lap. 

“I’ll see you later, Agatha.” 

“Hon, you don’t have to leave right now,” she calls but you’re already walking to the door. You wave a hand as a goodbye and you moodily walk back to your dorm. 

You sulk the rest of the day and debate whether or not you even want to go out to the bar, but ultimately decide that you deserve it. You don’t need Agatha to have a good time, as much as you’d like her. 

“There she is! It’s been awhile!” Natasha exclaims when you get to their table and claps a hand on your back. You wince but pull her in for a hug. You’ve been swamped with homework and when you do have free time, it’s spent with Agatha, so you have barely seen your friends in the past month. 

“Sorry, I’ve been so busy,” you mumble while greeting Wanda and Maria, also at the table. 

“First round is on you for neglecting us!” Wanda says and you laugh and happily go to the bar to order beers for the group. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks when you finally make your way through the crowd. 

“Four Pilsners, please,” you almost have to shout. Someone next to you bumps into you roughly and you jump. 

“Oh shit, sorry.” A guy about your age turns around, with shaggy dark hair and blue eyes. Something about his features is so familiar. 

“You’re good,” you say. “Do I know you?” 

He stares intently at your face, trying to place you. He snaps his fingers. “Professor Harkness’s class, freshman year. Something about witchcraft. I sat in the row in front you. You were like the only one who actually knew what they were talking about. I think you were her favorite by a long shot.” 

You blush at hearing that someone else picked up on Agatha liking you. “I don’t know if I’d say that,” you say coyly, smiling a little at the thought of the older woman. 

“I’m James. So, uh,” the boy says, sliding a hand nonchalantly around your waist. You freeze. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone at a bar?” 

“I’m not alone,” you quickly say, stepping back so his hand falls off, and you point to the table with your friends. “We’re here for trivia night.” 

His face lights up and he motions toward a different table with a group of guys. “We are too, but they all suck. Can I join your team?” 

“Um-” You’re trying to figure out how to let him down gently when the bartender puts down the four beers in front of you. You reach for your wallet but James slaps a $20 on the counter. 

“I got it,” he says proudly and then before you can protest, he grabs two of the beers and you follow with the other drinks, dumbfounded, as he walks over to your table. Your friends give you quizzical looks but you just shrug tiredly. You can’t find it in yourself to care that much right now. 

The host of the trivia game comes around to each table and hands out the paper for answers and a pen. He asks the first question: when is Taylor Swift’s birthday. 

You immediately say the answer and James pats his hand on your shoulder but it turns into more of a rub. Your eyes widen and your friends bite back a smile. 

“I’m actually seeing someone,” you say and take his hand off of you. Your friends look even more surprised than he does. Even though you’ve been dating Agatha for close to a year now, you’ve been really secretive and change the topic whenever your love life comes up with them. 

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that,” he says, raising his arms like he’s trying to show you that he’s harmless. He moves to touch you again but a hand darts out and grabs his wrist. You turn and your jaw falls open. 

It’s Agatha, and she is positively fuming. 

“I think she said she’s taken,” she growls and James backs off. 

“Professor Harkness,” he stutters. “I wasn’t trying to do anything, we were just having a good time.” He turns to you, eyes pleading. It’s almost funny how scary he still finds the older woman. “Tell her, we were just talking.” 

You wish he had said anything but that. Agatha whirls onto you. “Were you?” She hisses and you gulp. She scoffs as you protest and storms out of the bar. 

Ignoring the looks from your friends, you chase after her down the alleyway. 

“Agatha, wait,” you yell. “He kept hitting on me and I was trying to let him down gently but he kept trying. I told him that I was with someone else! I’m sorry.” 

She spins on her heel and advances toward you. You stop like a deer in headlights and she shoves you against the brick wall before you can think. Her hands grab your wrists and pin them to the wall. You struggle futilely. 

“Is this your pathetic attempt of getting back at me?” You furrow your brows in confusion and she laughs sardonically. “I was feeling so guilty earlier. You looked so sad when I didn’t want to come and I thought that maybe I could try, for you. I always say no and what a nice surprise it would be for my girlfriend if I showed up. And then what do I find? My pet is flirting with someone else. Not just someone, a sleazy college boy who would probably cum after two pumps because he’s so incompetent.” She’s snarling, her face an inch away from yours, and you hate how turned on you are. 

You’ve always liked it when she got possessive over you. 

“I didn’t want him,” you say levelly. “I only want you.” 

She huffs like it’s a joke. “Sure you don’t want the college fuckboy? Or any of the other people in the bar? They’d never hesitate to join you for trivia night.” 

And then it hits you. She’s jealous because she’s insecure. She also worries about the age difference. 

Your heart swells and you break free of her grasp to grab her cheeks and pull her in for a long and filthy kiss. You moan into her mouth when her tongue swipes against yours and she fits a thigh between your legs. 

“I’m all yours, Agatha,” you groan when she tugs your bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes flash. 

“You better be,” she warns and entangles her fingers in your hair so she can tilt your head to the side and sink a bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your hips buck on her thigh and you gasp when she sucks roughly. She trails up your neck, doing the same thing over and over, and you’re quickly reduced to a moaning, desperate mess. 

Her other hand trails down to hold onto your hip, just feeling you shakily grind against her, trying to get some relief. 

“Should I go back inside and get James to come out and watch this?” She asks against your skin, still marking you up. “So he knows what happens when he touches things that aren’t his?” 

You inhale sharply at the thought and wish that she would just drag you back inside and fuck you right there on the table in front of everyone. 

“Please,” you beg. She actually giggles and pulls back to admire her handiwork on your neck. She lightly traces over the marks and you shiver under her touch and intense gaze. 

Agatha smirks when she meets your eyes again. “That should let everyone know who you belong to. And you, in case you need the reminder.” 

You pretend to think for a moment. “Maybe I could use a refresher. Why don’t you show me who owns me?” 

Her eyes darken even more as she pulls you back in for a searing kiss that she ends too quickly. 

She yanks her thigh from out between yours and grabs your hand, dragging you to the car. 

“Oh, I’m going to, baby.”

[seobinghard]

𐙚⭑𓂃 KISS ME ✰

roommate!mingi x gn!reader ⭑ wc: 400 (?) ⭑ tags: sickening fluff, crack, roommate!au. ⭑ tw: none. ⭑ summary: you accidentally broke mingi's laptop screen but instead of getting mad at you, he proposes a sweet deal.

you fucked up.

"mingi, i need to tell you something. i'm so sorry!" strings of apologies spill from your lips like an idle spell as you latch onto your rommate's hoodie sleeves in a futile attempt to stop him from entering his room.

"y/n, why are you apologising?" mingi laughs, ruffling your hair. he finds it so adorable how you're tugging at his arms like a little puppy. "what's going on?"

poor mingi is completely clueless at what's about to hit him, but you know he won't be anymore once he marches into his room and discovers the product of your chronic clumsiness on his bed—his macbook and its broken screen.

"what the– my macbook!"

mingi's gasp reaches your ear and you cringe in fear.

wait, maybe if you act cute, he'll forgive you. he always does.

so you enact upon your mission and pull the most guilt-tripping puppy eyes known to mankind. "it was an accident, i swear! i was vacuuming the living room and your laptop was on the floor. i may or may have not stepped on it— ugh! i'm so, so sorry!"

mingi stops in his tracks and glances at your pleading face. shit. you're cute.

"fuck, y/n, you should've been more careful," he softly scolds, raking his fingers through his hair, "that's twelve hundred just for the screen."

"what?" you screech. you don't have that kind of money lying right now, especially not when you have to pay off your car by the end of this month. "you're kidding, right?"

mingi sighs, "no."

oh, fuck. you're really fucked. mingi keeps all his music recordings on his macbook; it's practically his baby. you know he won’t ask for payment upfront, but the guilt gnaws at you like ants on candy.

"but."

you look up, catching a playful glimmer in your roommate's gaze. he takes a step towards you, and instinctively, you take one back—until you're suddenly backed against the wall, trapped by his towering build. a smirk blooms on his lips. you gulp. code red. help.

"if you're really sorry..." mingi drawls, leaning down to meet you on your eye-level, his nose millimetres apart from yours. he smells like rain and sun-dried sheets.

"i'm really sorry," you reiterate with frantic nods, eyes glossy with guilt.

mingi smirks at your reaction, then he taps his right cheek. "then kiss me."

your body freezes, brain rewinding the two words that just slipped from his lips.

mingi taps his cheek again as if reminding you he's still waiting for what he's owed. "c'mon. you said you're sorry, didn't you? i'm waiting."

it takes you a split second to realise he meant every word he said and heat rushes to your cheeks. no one knows you have a crush on mingi. it would be hard not to, especially when you're living under the same roof and he walks around shirtless half of the time. he's hot, smart, tall and single. he has the goofiest personality yet is the first person you go to for financial advice. he calls himself a gym rat but you'll catch him munching from your stash of snacks at one am like a starved hamster. he has the cutest laugh and the most adorable boba eyes—oh my god. are you in love?

"y/n?" mingi waves his hand in front of your face. "look, i'm just joking. you don't have to–"

his words are cut off when you press your lips against his. a fleeting kiss; nothing more, nothing less.

mingi's eyes widen, his hands subconsciously reaching for your waist but you pull away just before he could.

"there," you breath out shakily, quickly looking away, face bright pink. "i kissed you. will you forgive me now?"

mingi is stunned. forgive you? hell, he'll do more than just forgive. matter of fact, he'll buy out the entire apple store for you to destroy if it means he'll get a kiss from you every time you break a screen. but as the true blue logical man that he is, mingi simply opts for; "you're forgiven, cutie."

you let out a sigh of relief. phew–

"can i get another kiss?"

[hyolks]

Hi everyone!! Here's the prompt list, a whole two months early!! :D 

Fmabruary is something I did this past February as a challenge to myself to draw something everyday, and FMA was a theme voted on by my followers! I was a little cruel to myself by trying to make a piece within a whole day, start to finish, with just whatever idea I came up with whenever I sat down to draw-- it really dragged by the end of the month... but this year, it's different! Armed with a prompt list and now two months to prep, I also invite you to join me!!! :D

Although I plan on doing every single day with a finished piece, feel free to do literally whatever you want!! A couple of days, a couple of sketches, out of order, any medium... literally anything. You can ignore the prompts too!! Let's just make February 2025 a month of FMA appreciation :3 

There are no rules for participating!! All I ask is that you tag any posts with #fmabruary2025 so that we can all see each other's art!! 

Let me know if you have any questions!! And, since I know it's coming: Halcyon means "a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful"! Sorry to drop a vocab word on the prompt list...!! I liked it too much to sub it out @_@

Good luck y'all!!! Let's have fun in February!! :')

[ninupi]

Hii, can I request headcanons or fic for Mitsuya with a model reader?

crush? | t. mitsuya

₊˚⊹♡ tags; fem!reader, finale timeline so spoilers? mitsuya being a absolute sweetheart as usual, also him struggling a bit as a new designer lol, this is a slowburn ngl...y/n overthinking towards the end

₊˚⊹♡ wc; 3,500+

₊˚⊹♡ a/n; this was a bit vague so I wasn't too sure what you wanted exactly, I didnt mean for this to be so long but then I just kept writing and it became a lot longer then I anticipated LOL also ill probably rename this later, i never even know what to name some of these sometimes

Mitsuya threw down all the photos of headshots his assistant had brought him to look through "This is it?" he sighed rubbing his eyes tiredly. The girl stumbled around a bit "Uh yes sir, that's all of the models...you don't see any you like?" she questioned a bit frustrated.

"I'm sorry, but no, none of them have what I'm looking for exactly..." he sighed, standing up and picking up a headshot of a young man. "None of them? Like not a single one?" the girl questioned, a bit shocked. Mitsuya only shook his head while pacing around. 

"Well, I don't mean to step on your toes or anything, sir, but the show is in two months, and we need to start booking models..." she muttered, looking through her emails, hoping to see a response. You can call Hakkai, and I'll choose some of the people here, but give me a few more days to pick someone for the main piece."

Mitsuya ran a hand through his hair, softly pulling at the roots in frustration. He had someone specific in mind for the main piece of the show. Unfortunately, Okamoto, his assistant, was unable to book you. They didn't even receive an email back from your manager.

Mitsuya knew it'd be a miracle if he were able to book you for his show but he still tried. But now that the odds weren't in his favor he had to find a new model for the face of the show, he could just go with Hakkai. He wasn't too sure Hakkai wanted to sport a dress on the runway though...

You watched from the corner of your eye as your manager angrily swiped through her tablet, hundreds of emails in the reflection of her glasses. You went to say something when you felt a tug on your hair "Could you be a bit more gentle?" you muttered getting fed up, that was the sixth time this stylist had tugged on your hair in the last twenty minutes.

You didn't say anything when he softly apologized while continuing to do your hair in a crazy updo for your upcoming photoshoot. "Are you ok over there? You look like you're about to throw that thing" You call out to your manager who's now angrily typing away on her tablet.

"You would think after sending 15 emails and not receiving a single one back this person would stop emailing me about you," she muttered with furrowed eyebrows, who the hell was blowing up your manager about you anyway? You had just started seriously modeling this year and you've been very successful but you didn't think you were that desired by some people. 

"Who is it? What's it for?" you question now really curious about this person's persistence while shifting in your seat. "I don't even know, it's to walk at some small runway show, nothing worth your time." She sighs lifting her glasses to rest on the top of her head. 

You had only walked a few runways, and each time it was a bit chaotic but you had lots of fun "Oh really, who's the designer? I wouldn't mind doing another runway!" your manager looks at you a bit shocked while you smile at her innocently. 

She quickly recuperates and walks over to you holding out her tablet "He's a small upcoming designer, Mitsuya Takashi? I've never heard of him personally but Hakkai Shiba walks at almost all of his shows." She explains while swiping through some of his designs. 

"No way! I love his clothes, why didn't you tell me sooner?" you whine looking at all the emails his assistant has sent your manager over the last two weeks. You feel yourself basically shaking in excitement at the thought of walking for one of your new favorite designers. 

"I didn't think you even knew who he was, I didn't until I got her emails!" she explains pointing at the tablet in your hands, and to give her credit you had just discovered the upcoming designer recently. 

One of the other models at a photo shoot you were at was wearing a beautiful dress and when you asked her where she got it, she explained that Mitsuya had made it for her as a thank-you for modeling for him. Not only was the man extremely talented, but he also seemed really kind. 

You had always searched for his clothing at any store you had gone to, you never had any luck though. You were thinking about reaching out to him yourself but lately, your schedule has been extremely busy. This was the perfect opportunity you were searching for. 

"Tell him yes, anything he wants, yes I'll do it! If I have stuff scheduled when he needs me, cancel it!" you smile handing your manager her tablet back and standing up seeing now that your hair is done. "B-but what about the shoot with miu miu?" your manager sputtered quickly following behind you.

"Cancel it!" you smile closing your dressing room door in your manager's face. 

When Okamoto barged into Mitsuya's office sputtering about booking you he thought she was crazy. But when she showed him the email from your manager stating you agreed to walk the runway in his clothes he almost passed out. He immediately started stitching together your dress, too excited to sleep even though it was already past midnight.

Now two weeks later, he was almost done with the piece just having to add the tedious details and fix some stitching here and there. But it was also the day you'd come by for the first fitting and be meeting mitsuya for the first time. 

To say he was nervous was an understatement, he kept pricking his fingers while working on the other pieces for the show and stumbling over stray rolls of fabric. He didn't even realize the time until Okamoto came in telling him you'd be there in an hour, he quickly started to clean his office not wanting you to see the chaotic room. 

When he finally finishes cleaning the room he looks around for any stray items lying around. Not seeing a single thing hethrew himself onto his chair when a big sigh, he knew you should be here any moment. He was so nervous he keptthinking about what he'd say to you when he finally met you. 

"Thank you so much for accepting...no thank you for giving me the opportunity...no..." he sighed still not able to think properly when he heard his office door open. Quickly standing up he dusted himself off and watched as you and your manager walked in talking to Okamoto. 

"Yeah I was so jealous after she told me he had custom-made it for her, I was tempted to steal it from her dressing room when she wasn't there!" Mitsuya watched you as you laughed while readjusting your purse on your arm, he doesn't think he's seen a more beautiful woman. 

You were wearing a simple outfit, a black long-sleeve turtle neck, some dark-washed jeans, and a pair of black boots. It was nothing special but Mitsuya thought you looked amazing, he couldn't even bring himself to say something when you looked at him. 

"Oh my god, it's so nice to finally meet you! I've been waiting for this day since Saki told me about this!" you exclaimed briefly motioning over to your manager but quickly making your way to Mitsuya shaking his hand. He could only smile in response a little too shocked to say anything at the moment. 

"Really? I didn't even think you knew who I was..." he awkwardly laughed while shaking your hand "I just discovered you recently from Momo? I'm sure you remember her, you made her that gorgeous custom dress! I've been searching for some of your pieces in stores but I've had no luck" 

Mitsuya was loss for words the more you kept talking, you knew who he was? And you were on the hunt for some of his clothing on your own time? Not even saying anything he immediately bowed at a 90-degree angel "Thank you so much, you don't know how much that means to me, seriously" 

You immediately begin to panic "What? What do you mean I haven't done anything!" you say while bringing him up by his shoulders "You agreeing to model my clothes is good enough, you're a very sought-after model y/n. You wearing my clothes is bound to help me take off as a designer so I thank you." 

You can feel your face flush a bit, you've never had someone be so sincere to you in this industry before. Now you realize you've made a great choice by agreeing to model for Mitsuya, you hope you can continue to work with him in the future. 

"Ok let's get to work before you make me cry or somethin'.." you softly joke taking off your bag and handing it to you Saki "Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to- ok yeah let's get to work!" Mitsuya stumbles putting his glasses on and grabbing his sketchbook.

"You can take a seat over there if you'd like" Mitsuya motions over to a couch in the corner of his office when he notices your manager aimlessly standing around "Oh thank you, do you mind if I make a few calls and whatnot?" she sighs taking a seat with your stuff. 

"No of course not, if you need anything just ask me or Okamoto" he waves off now walking over to you "I actually already started working on the piece if you'd like to see it? Or even try it on?" he mutters flipping through his sketchbook"Of course I'd like to try it on!" 

The rest of the day was spent talking and getting to know each other while Mitsuya tailored the dress to fit you better and went over the rest of the look with you. He also asked for your input and what you thought would look good or what you'd like to wear, you could help having a small crush on the man after leaving his office that night. 

It's now been two months since you and Mitsuya first met and you two have gotten a lot closer since that day. Some nights after you've finished with your fittings for other designers you'd invite Mitsuya out for dinner, wanting to talk the man more.

And if you two weren't out for dinner you were constantly texting, but now that his show is this weekend you haven't heard much from him. You weren't too surprised you imagined he was extremely busy trying to finish the last details for the show and whatnot, but you had to admit you missed him. 

You just finished with a small photoshoot for a magazine when you checked your phone and saw that he still hadn't responded to your message from this morning. "Loverboy hasn't answered you?" you turn to glare at Saki who ignores you while packing up your stuff. 

"I told you to stop calling him that…but no he hasn't answered" You sigh grabbing your bag from her arm and begin to walk out of the studio "Do you want to stop by his office?" you almost trip when walking down the stairs "What? We can't just stop by his office like that, he's probably really busy!"

Saki only shrugs her shoulders while opening the door to the building allowing you to go first "Why not? You can bring him a coffee or something, I'm sure he'd appreciate it" You bite your lip contemplating it a bit, you really did want to see the man but you also didn't want to bother him if he were busy. 

"Ok yeah let's go, but we have to get coffee from the place by his office, he really likes that place!" you explain while getting into the back of the car with Saki who playful rolls her eyes "Yeah I know you've only told me a thousand times how much he likes that place."

Now standing outside of Mitsuya's office with his and your order in one hand and a box of pastries in the other you wonder if this was a good idea. You two had hung out plenty of times but you'd never shown up at his office unannounced and you hoped your sudden arrival didn't annoy him. 

Before you can even think about turning around his office door opens and you see a beautiful girl walking out on the phone. She doesn't notice you at first too immersed in her conversation but when she does she gives a look of confusion and then goes wide-eyed. 

"Are you here for Takashi?" at first you thought she was one of the other models walking in his show but when she refers to him by his first name you begin to doubt it. Who exactly was she? Mitsuya never mentioned a girlfriend before or anything similar. 

"Yazuha can you go to the bakery down the street and get us some stuff?" you hear someone call from Mitsuya's office making the girl roll her eyes. "Actually it looks like someone is here for Takashi" She then motions for you to walk into the office as she continues her way out the door still on the phone. 

When you walk in you see Mitsuya looking in your direction with a confused face which quickly morphs into a smile "Y/n! What are you doing here?" he quickly makes his way over to you grabbing the sweets and drinks out of your hand and placing them on his desk. 

You quickly glance over the man standing in what you assume will be his runway outfit and back towards Mitsuya "I just wanted to see you, plus you never answered my messages. So I thought you could use some fuel or whatever…I didn't think you'd have other people over I should've gotten more" 

You begin to look through your bag for your wallet going to ask the other man what he'd like "Don't worry about it y/n, I'm sorry for not answering your messages I've been finishing up Hakkai's piece all day. I'm almost done, if you want we can all go grab dinner together or something?" 

You didn't even realize he was leading you to sit over on the couch until you were seated "Oh uh- ok yeah that's fine with me" Then it hits you that you didn't even introduce yourself to the other person in the room. 

"I'm so sorry I'm y/n, I guess we'll be walking in the show together it's nice to meet you" You smile up at the very tall man who just turns away from you with a blank look on his face. What the hell was his deal "This is Hakkai, he's not good at talking to girls so don't take offense. And the girl outside is his sister, Yazuha, I've known both of them since middle school."

You watch Mitsuya continue to work on a few pieces of Hakkai's suit while the boy doesn't say anything just then Yazuha walks back in "Don't bother talking to that guy, he can't talk to girls" You turn to her with a small smile while Mitsuya softly laughs "Yeah Mitsuya's already told me, I'm y/n it's nice to meet you" 

Unlike her brother Yazuha has no problem talking to you "Yeah I know, who wouldn't? You're like one of the top models right now, I thought Takashi was lying when he said he booked you." she muttered while shaking your hand. 

"Ah I'm so glad Okamoto reached out to my manager, it's been so nice working with Mitsuya I hope he and I can keep working together in the future!" You hear Mitsuya curse a bit under his breath "Are you ok Taka-Chan?" you turn and watch as Mitsuya nods sucking on his thumb.

"Y-yeah just pricked my finger a bit, but yeah I've really enjoyed working with you too y/n…" he smiles, and you note his ears are red. You return a bashful smile and turn back towards Yazuha who's giving you a smug look "Right…well if you start working with Takashi a lot then you'll be seeing us a lot too so let's be good friends" 

You've always had after-show jitters but right now you feel like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. The show went great but before the show, you barely had any time to actually talk to Mitsuya, just a quick prep talk and good luck. But right before the show actually started he had told you to immediately find him afterwards. 

You wondered the entire time what is it that he wanted to talk to you about, then you wondered what he'd have to say about your walk. What if he hated it and never wanted you to model for his clothes ever again? You didn't even notice when he knocked on your dressing room door, too preoccupied with your thoughts. 

You only realized he was there when he gently opened the door "Y/n? Are you in here?" you quickly walked over to the door opening it the rest of the way "Oh I'm sorry I wasn't sure you were in here" you notice he has a big bouquet of flowers and an even bigger gift bag in his hand. 

Unable to say anything you just pull him into your dressing room and close the door "Sorry I didn't hear you knocking on the door" you mutter turning to look at him. He doesn't say anything and neither do you for a while until he holds out the bouquet "These are for you…"

You take the flowers from him and notice their your favorite flowers in your favorite color. You also notice how nicely they're wrapped, they had to be really expensive "Mitsuya, these are gorgeous…thank you so much." 

He only shrugs with a shy smile on his face "I wanted you to have something nice… I-I did my best to wrap them but I've never done it before so I'm sorry if it looks a bit sloppy…" He rambles while gently grabbing them from your hands and setting them down. 

You couldn't believe that he took the time to wrap the flowers himself, they look professionally done. You couldn't even deny it anymore if you wanted, you've totally fallen for Mitsuya. He's been nothing but good to you since you first met and watching the way he treats his friends and other models shows that he's just a great guy. 

"Mitsuya they're gorgeous, they look perfect seriously, thank you so much for these." you mutter still admiring the beautiful bouquet "Oh well I'm glad you like them, I also have this for you…" he whispers placing the huge gift bag on a chair in the room leaving you to open it.

You wonder what can be in the bag, it's massive but when you peek inside the bag you don't really see much. Turning to him to give him a suspicious look he just shrugs his shoulders with a cheeky smile "Open it" Turning back towards the bag you pull out the tissue paper. 

At first, you just see some fabric but when you pull it out you notice it's a gorgeous dress. Looking at all the intricate details you're lost for words "Do you like it..?" you hear Mitsuya ask while he walks up closer to you "You made this for me?" 

You turn towards him now holding the dress close to your chest as if he just threatened to take it from you "Yeah I made it last week, if you don't like something I can- No!" he looks at you wide-eyed at your interruption "Sorry but no Mitsuya it's- it's…I seriously don't have words I can't believe you made this for me?" 

He can't help the cocky grin on his face "I'm so glad you like it…" Then you notice his smile falter a bit "Would you like to wear it tonight to dinner…" Was he asking you out right now? Like a real date? "With me I mean" he quickly clarified seeing your blank look.

You seriously wanted to jump for joy but decided against it to not embarrass yourself "Like just you and me…? No Yazuha or Hakkai?" you don't want to get your hopes up too soon "Yes y/n just you and me, no Hakkai or Yazuha, just us. Like a date" he softly laughed walking towards you grabbing one of your hands. 

You got one little hop in before you stopped yourself "S-sorry I'm just really happy right now" you explain when he gives you a funny look "But yes, I'd love to go on a date with you Mitsuya" you mutter now too shy to look him in the eyes.

"Ok great, I'll wait outside for you then we can go" he smiles softly rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb "Ok I'll get dressed right now!" you laugh gently pushing him out of your dressing room and quickly grab your phone to tell Saki she can leave without you. 

[aplaceinme]

For @tommygiving

Tommy parks his truck and turns the engine off. He has been smiling since he woke up this morning, knowing that he is going to spend the entire day with Evan. 

Before getting out of the car, he looks in the rearview mirror and fixes his hair. Evan likes to pull on his curls so Tommy has gotten to wear it a bit longer than he normally would. Once he is satisfied with the way he looks, he turns and just as he is about to open the door, he sees Evan exiting his building and bouncing towards him.

As always, Evan looks amazing, he is wearing a blue sweater that makes his eyes pop, and some black jeans that accentuate his big and strong thighs perfectly. He also seems to be in a hurry, since in no time at all he is opening the passenger side door. 

“Good morning, gorgeous!” Evan greets him, leaning over and giving him a way too short for Tommy’s liking kiss.  

“Good morning, love!” Tommy replies. “I was about to go up… I always go up. Are you that excited to go to the supermarket?” 

“Yeah, I’m really excited! I even have my clipboard, see?” Evan says, waving the clipboard for emphasis. 

Tommy chuckles. “I can see that. Ok then, let’s go!” 

—

“Are you sure you are ok?” Tommy asks for the second time. 

“What? Yes, I’m ok… why? Don’t I look alright?” Evan asks in a slightly hysterical way. “I’m alright!”

Tommy raises one eyebrow in disbelief. “Evan, you have been all fidgety and acting all nervous since… since you got in the truck, actually. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Evan says, not so convincingly. 

“Evan,” Tommy sighs. “Look, you do know that I don’t care about the food or the decorations or anything like that, right? You don’t need to put too much pressure on yourself to try to host the perfect Thanksgiving… it will be perfect no matter what because we are going to be spending it together. And that’s all I want.” 

Evan’s posture relaxes minimally, his eyes go as soft as the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re right, it will be perfect because we will be together.” 

They share a sweet but short kiss, both aware that they are in the middle of a supermarket with lots of people desperately buying all kinds of stuff for Thanksgiving. 

“Should we see if we are lucky enough to find a turkey?” Tommy asks as he intertwines their fingers and starts to move across the aisle. 

“Turkey?” Evan yelps. 

Tommy stops walking and turns to look at him in surprise and confusion. “Yes? I mean… Aren’t we having turkey?” 

Evan ducks his head, rubs at the back of his neck, and starts to drag the tip of his shoes along the ground. 

“Evan?” 

“Well… I was thinking that maybe… just maybe! We could go vegan this time?” Evan asks sheepishly.

“Oh! Uhhh, yeah, sure, ok. We can do that if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah? Awesome! Thank you,” Evan says, beaming. 

If Tommy hadn’t been blinded by Evan’s beautiful smile, and by the way it made his eyes sparkle, he would have noticed that in his enthusiasm Evan had started to walk backwards, right into a display of canned cranberry sauce. As it is, Tommy is too late to fully stop him. He grabs him by the arm and tries to pull him away but by then Evan has already lost his balance and he ends up falling over the cans and pulling Tommy along. 

“Oh my god!” Evan mumbles, on the floor and covered in cranberry sauce. “Ouch.”

In the same position as him, Tommy nods, agreeing, “Yeah… ouch.” 

“Are you guys ok?” One of the supermarket workers asks them, looking down at them. 

“Peachy,” Tommy mutters.

“I’m so, so sorry! I can’t believe I did this! It was a mistake… I’m so clumsy sometimes,” Evan says apologetically while sitting down slowly. 

“It’s ok. It happens, not that often, but it happens,” Susan, as her name tag reads, says. “Are any of you hurt?”

“No, just embarrassed,” Evan replies. 

“Tomorrow… that’s when we will be feeling it,” Tommy groans, standing up and giving a hand to Evan. 

“Should we clean it up?” Evan asks hesitantly. 

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Susan reassures him. “The facilities are near the bakery section, by the way.” 

They thank Susan and go to the bathroom to wash a little bit of the sauce. 

“This is not going well,” Evan complains. 

“Don’t worry about it… think about it this way, it will be a funny story to tell everyone,” Tommy says, helping Evan with cleaning his lovely curls. 

“No one will know about this, Tommy. No one!” 

Tommy laughs and kisses him on the cheek. “Alright, my lips are sealed. Should we continue with the shopping?”

“Ugh, yes! We don’t really have any other choice,” Evan says, pouting. 

—

Evan starts to get fidgety again once they are back in the truck and driving to his loft. 

“Hey! We’ve got all the ingredients you need, right? It will be great, I know it,” Tommy tries to reassure him, his hand reaching over from the steering wheel and grabbing one of Evan's hands. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Evan gives him a barely there smile that is not fooling anybody. 

The nervousness and fidgeting get worse as they approach Evan’s door. He even takes his time opening it, doing it as slowly as possible. As soon as he opens it, though, he pulls Tommy inside and quickly closes and locks the door. 

Completely bewildered by the action, Tommy puts the groceries down. “Evan, what is go- what the hell is that?” 

There, by the loft window, is a cage. A cage with a turkey in it. A very much alive turkey. 

“It’s a turkey,” Evan replies too casually. 

“A tur- a turk… why do you have a turkey?” Tommy asks him, beyond confused. He even pinches his arm, trying to see if he is having a weird dream. Or maybe he got concussed when they fell in the supermarket. 

“So, funny story,” Evan starts. “You see, yesterday, we had a call to this place and this dude had an illegal turkey.” 

Tommy blinks once, twice, but he remains confused. “Ok? That doesn’t explain the turkey in your loft though.” 

“Right… the thing is that the dude was trying to get him to fight, sort of like cockfighting, you know? So, he is quite aggressive.”

“How aggressive?” Tommy asks, taking a step back.

He is suddenly having flashbacks of when they had responded to that call with Maurice… he shivers all over. 

“Quite a lot, unfortunately. That’s why I begged Bobby to let me take him to one of the farm sanctuaries or a center where they rehabilitate animals,” Evan tells him with a bright smile. 

Tommy doesn’t know where to start. “And Bobby just said yes?”

“Well, I had to be really convincing, say that I was afraid that Alex here would end up getting killed, and I might have also said that I was going to take him to a farm yesterday,” Evan says, blushing but shrugging his shoulders. “But I was too tired and today I already had plans with you… so I will take him tomorrow.”

“Ok, so you aren’t actually planning to keep him, then?” Tommy asks, extremely relieved, and ignoring the fact that of course already named the turkey. 

Evan opens his mouth but gets interrupted by Alex gobbling, startling them both.

“Jesus, that’s loud,” Tommy says, resisting the urge to cover his ears. 

“He is, which is why I was hoping that we could keep him in your house? I’m not allowed to have pets here,” Evan asks, looking adorable, peering at him through his eyelashes. 

Sighing in resignation, Tommy nods. One day he will be able to say no to Evan, but today is not that day. 

[chibinasuu]

Kid x Reader ― first snow; regret

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― @gothmommie tags: sfw, angst with happy ending, GN!reader, no use of y/n

First snow used to excite you. 

It used to bring you joy, and wonder, and peace. You used to love how magical it looked when the landscapes around you were gradually blanketed in white as the snow piled up. 

But that was before. Now, first snow only brought guilt, and bitterness, and regret, along with the memory of the unforgiving stare of the love of your life. The coldness of his normally fiery eyes rivaled the freshly fallen snow as he abandoned you, mere minutes after his defeat at the hands of the Red Hair Pirates. 

You had sobbed on the ground as the green grass around you turned white – a sight no longer magical – but you didn’t blame him. It was entirely your fault that you kept the fact that you used to be an apprentice on the ship of your Captain’s biggest foe a secret.

When you heard about Kid’s plan to confront Red-haired Shanks, you had warned him not to go through with it. Of course, Kid being Kid, he did it anyway. When things had predictably escalated, you had gotten down on your knees in front of your old mentor and begged him to spare your crew.

The Emperor had let you all go with the cost of your Captain’s left arm. 

The memory of that day a year ago haunted your mind as you trudged across the snowy terrain along the coast of Ringo. 

You were in Wano because you had heard a rumor that a Poneglyph may be hidden in this country somewhere. You were under no banner now, but it didn’t mean that you were giving up on finding the One Piece. 

Well, call it chance, fate, or just mere coincidence – you couldn’t explain how you ended up coming across the Victoria Punk, docked at a small cove near the border of Hakumai. 

And there he stood. Your Captain. Your former Captain, you had to remind yourself. Your former best friend, your former… lover.

Before you could feign ignorance and run away, the metal of your belt buckle vibrated and you felt yourself being pulled by a magnetic force that was all too familiar. Kid set you down in front of him, on the deck of your former home. 

The two of you could only stare at each other, neither knowing what to say after a year of not seeing each other.

“I could recognize you from miles away.” He finally said. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Kid?” You asked. 

“It’s none of your business, isn’t it?” He scowled and retorted defensively, “You’re not part of my crew anymore, I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“Ouch, Kid.” You could feel hot tears pricking your eyes at his sharp words, “You didn’t need to drag me up here just to tell me that.”

You turned away, intending to get off the ship as fast as you could. You were about five steps away when Kid’s gruff voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“No, wait!” 

You had never heard such desperation in his voice before.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” His voice was low when he continued, barely audible, “I didn’t mean what I said – and did – a year ago either.” 

Your heart stopped for a beat, second-guessing if this really was the same man you knew. Kid had never once apologized for anything for as long as you had known him.

As you faced him again, you studied his beautiful scarred face. His brows were furrowed, red-stained lips pressed into a thin line. You waited patiently as he hesitated, opening and closing his mouth indecisively. His next words were like an arrow to your heart.

“Kicking you off the crew was the biggest regret of my life.” 

He looked away, face tinged red from the cold and embarrassment, “I… wasn’t in my right mind at that time. I was blinded by rage, and I did the stupidest thing I could possibly do.”

“I was a mess for weeks after that – you can ask Killer.” He chuckled humorlessly, “I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. I was angry all the time.” At your raised eyebrows, he added, “Well, I mean, even more so than usual.” 

“Fuck. You drive me crazy, y’know?” He ran his hand through his messy hair as he breathed out your name, the sound like music to your ears, “I just… couldn’t stop loving you. And believe me, I tried. This whole damn year, I tried to forget you, but I just couldn't.”

You knew it couldn’t have been easy for a man like Kid to admit everything he just said. 

Your feet moved on their own accord, carrying you towards him. You threw your arms around his neck, no longer able to fight back the urge to be close to him. 

“I've missed you, Kid.” You confessed softly into his ears.

His grip around you tightened. His metal hand was frigid even through the clothing on your back, but you didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about my past with Shanks.” You said. It was your turn to apologize now. 

“It wasn’t my intention to keep that from you – it just never came up. And when you decided to target him, I tried to tell you, I swear, but you just… wouldn’t stop and listen.” You sighed exasperatedly, “You and your one-track mind really vex me sometimes.”

In the quiet that followed, you leaned back and gazed into his amber eyes. 

“I may have regretted not telling you about Shanks, but know that I never regretted asking him to spare your life, Kid.” You firmly said, “His crew would’ve annihilated us back then. I only did what I did because I love you and I didn’t want to see you get hurt. And even then, you still lost an arm, so…”

Your words trailed off, suddenly nervous of how he would react to your audacious remark. You knew that deep down, he knew that your words rang true – he was just too damn proud to admit it.

But instead, Kid stayed silent. He just leaned forward and touched his forehead to yours, basking in the closeness he had craved since the day he thoughtlessly made you step off his ship.

After a while, he finally answered your earlier question about what the hell he was doing here, “We’re raiding Onigashima tomorrow to take down Kaido. There's no way in hell I'm letting Straw Hat and Trafalgar take all the glory.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. Another stupid, reckless plan. And yet, when he asked if you would fight by his side, the word naturally fell out of your mouth,

“Always.”

Snowflakes dropped from the clouds above as you held each other in a warm embrace. Despite wandering around Ringo for days, it was your first snowfall in Wano.

You breathed in the cold air and the familiar scent of Kid that you’ve missed oh-so-much. 

The first snow that landed on your entwined bodies, blanketing the wooden deck in white, felt like forgiveness, and reconciliation, and new beginnings.

a/n: i know i said this is a drabble event but i've never written for kid before so i got too excited, got carried away, and this ended up being around 1k words 😅

anyway, it’s december and officially the start of my holiday event!! thanks to everyone who have requested so far, i’m really excited to write all of them! i'm still accepting submissions so please send in your requests if you're interested <3

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

[klarolinexluv]

Four years ago. I used to hate this one ship. Like I would go out of my way to just speak that opinion and fuck everyone else right? I was 14.

A year or so past and I grew out of that a bit. I realised that I did like one of those characters in the ship but I still preferred the other ship that was much more popular and canonly didn’t end up together. (I mean the guy died so what do you do).

Anyway… so I was 15 and realised that my behaviour wasn’t the best so I changed. I realised that the character I didn’t like was actually a nice character. I grew to appreciate her more and I started editing her and the guy. The ship that I didn’t like. People thought I was crazy… I sort of laughed it off because yeah, I suppose I was a bit crazy for editing them but I quietly enjoyed doing it.

I was 16 and I shifted away from ships. I started posting more about my favourite character who canonically was a massive bitch do said character I thought I hated. I still made my opinion clear but I never judged anyone for liking something that I didn’t.

I was 17 and I stopped posting for that fandom. I got into Harry Potter and Drarry and the fandom I was surrounded by was a lot calmer. I didn’t see much passive aggressive or toxic behaviour between shippers and that made me feel safe. I realised that a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

I was 17 and I joined the Marauders fandom. For a while it was much of the same. I was safe and I felt loved and I enjoyed it so much.

I’m 18. I still love the marauders fandom so fucking much. Everyone is so incredibly talented and so amazing and I cannot see myself ever abandoning this fandom.

I’m 18 and I got my first anonymous hate comment in my inbox. I was angry. I thought that I had moved on from getting hate for my opinion. I thought the marauders fandom was made up of a lot of mature and liked minded people. I was wrong.

I stuck to my guns. I shared my opinion even with the anonymous hate. I have an open mind. I understand where these haters were coming from. Hell, I even enjoyed the ship they were vouching for… it just so happened that I adored another ship more.

I’m a multi shipper. I always have been. I will try anything at least once and if I don’t like it, I’ll click off.

I would never leave a hate comment under someone’s hate and go off at them for shipping something that I don’t like. I’ve never done that. Even when I was 14 and hated this ship very publicly. I would never hate on someone’s art or edit or fic. I would just click away.

I will defend my favourite characters, my favourite ships until I physically cannot. I will not hate you for having a different opinion even if you hate on me first.

I have received death threats. I hope that no one ever experiences that feeling.

In conclusion, if you love something, that’s amazing. If you hate something, that’s cool too. If you hate on someone for loving something you hate, that’s not okay. Everyone deserves respect.

If someone loving something you hate makes you angry. I’m going to be so fucking for real, go outside, touch grass or taking a deep breath and scroll. Block tags. Block blogs/accounts.

Putting someone down is a form of bullying, repetitively or not. It’s bullying. Hating for no reason, I’ll go so far as to say that’s bullying.

You’re allowed to be angry, that’s your right. It’s not your right to hate one someone because of it.

Take it from someone who used to get angry for someone shipping something I hated.

I say from experience that it feels better to just let it go, to move on, to open ao3 and read the things you love, to open the tag you love and scroll through it. You’ll feel better, you’ll feel good.

I promise you. The best thing to do when you are angry is to turn away, focus your energy on something you love rather than something you hate.

I’m sorry to op for highjacking the post haha. My rant was rather inspired.

some of you cannot be the age you say you are because the way you react to fictional characters with such anger is jarring

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VII: Choose Love or Sympathy

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: that’s what you get by paramore, xo by fall out boy, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, king for a day by pierce the veil

a/n: hear me when i say these two are absolutely in for it it. I'm also a huge fan of italics apparently

chapter tags: angst, hurt/comfort but then... hurt/no comfort (SORRY!), reader is a sensitive baby we love her, mean!Eddie, but also very sweet Eddie. swearing, smoking, drinking, reader struggles with self image / mental health (vague for now) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU

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taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotine @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality |

--

The weekend comes barreling towards you sooner than you’d have liked. You wake up Friday morning with a sense of dread, Robin’s words on a broken loop in your head: what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story. Everyone keeps fucking saying that, but no one has actually told you what you “don’t know.”. Chris hasn’t given you a goddamn leg to stand on, speaking in riddles and never once confirming or denying a thing. You’re an adult, and you wish these fuckers would start treating you like one.

On your nightstand, your phone buzzes repeatedly, a string of incoming text messages:

bobbins: so,, ive smoked some weed bobbins: im cool now  bobbins: i still think there’s a lot we don’t know,, bobbins: but I’m sorry for insinuating you should forgive him. bobbins: i cant imagine how you felt that day. bobbins: i love u bb

You scramble to respond before she can get another five messages in,

it’s ok bob, i love u 2

The subject changes swiftly as she tosses questions about tonight at you one after the other. You send her pictures of your outfit choices, hairstyle ideas, personal protection list before finally asking her the question gnawing on your brain. 

What if he doesn’t like me?

Robin responds by calling you.

“Hi?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She starts, not letting you explain. “He asked you out, why wouldn’t he like you?!”

“I dunno! Maybe he’s just looking for a hookup. Maybe he thought I’d be easy?” The suggestion sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and you hear Robin scoff at you. 

“Look, if things start to stink, call me. Steve’s closing tonight, so he’ll be right down the street.”

You sigh into the receiver. “Okay, okay. You’re right, I’m probably worried for nothing.”

“Atta girl! Now go on, go headbang or whatever it is you people do.”

You snort as you say your goodbyes, and hang up the phone. Without Robin to distract you, you turn to the outfits you’ve spread out on your bed. Emo Nite is casual, sure, but you still want to look good. You decide on a pair of Tripp pants, adorned with metal hooks and chains, pairing it with an old Paramore shirt you cropped with kitchen scissors in high school. With your outfit out of the way, you sit at your vanity to do your makeup, extending your winged eyeliner a little further than you would on a normal day. When you’re done, your alarm clock reads 8:30, and you make your way to your car. 

–

9:15.

The lights of the city seem to dance across the sky. Everything is louder here, bustling with nightlife you could only dream of seeing in Hawkins. You’re standing outside the club alone, nursing the end of your last cigarette. Maybe he’s running late? You don’t have a single unread text from Scotty. You type several different messages of your own, deleting each one before settling on “You on your way?” But its delivery is never confirmed. It’s grown cold outside, and you wrap your flannel tighter around you to keep the wind out. You should have brought a jacket, but you weren’t expecting to be outside for this long. You can hear the first notes of an old favorite song, followed by a bunch of 20 somethings cheering. Patrons are dressed in black, clad in leather and fishnets, their combat booted feet stomping into the venue. Emo Nite is a nostalgia cash grab, you know that, but you’re envious of everyone setting foot inside, surrounded by their friends and peers, leaving you abandoned at the door. 

–

9:30.

The time taunts you from your phone screen. You’re waiting outside the club, the air brisk on your face. Every so often, the door swings open as someone enters or exits, and you turn to see if it’s someone for you. So far, none of them have been, and you’re debating whether or not to walk to the record store and ask Steve to hitch a ride back to his place to mope. 

“Hey, Bee!” The voice calling you isn’t the one you’re hoping to hear, but it’s just as familiar. You find its source across the street, Macy waving at you eagerly as her bandmates and fucking Eddie follow behind. Oh, right. Like being stood up isn’t humiliating enough, now Eddie gets to tease you about it. 

“What’re you doing out here, girl? It’s freezing!” Macy is sweet, holding your icy cheeks between her warm hands. You can tell she’s already had a few drinks.

“I’m, hm,” You clear your throat, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date? Eek! Hear that, Eds? Our girl has a date!” Her words send static through your veins. Since when are you anyone’s girl, let alone Munson and Macy’s?

“Mhm, okay, honey. Let’s go get you situated, yeah?” Eddie ushers her inside, handing her off to Fiona before returning to where you’re standing. Without a word, he lights a cigarette and offers it to you, and you take it without acknowledgement while he lights his own. After what seems like hours, the two of you choose to speak at the same time,

“How late is–” “Why did you–” “What?” “What?”

“You first,” Eddie gestures to you before pulling from his cigarette.

“Why did you tell Scotty to ask me out?” 

“What in the world makes you think I told him to ask you out?”

“Look, she’s gonna kill me for telling you this, but Robin overheard you in the bathroom talking to Scotty at the bar. She walked in by accident, and you two had come in before she could leave. Anyway, you know she can’t keep secrets for shit, so she told me what you said to him. Why?” You cross your arms, attempting to hold in as much body heat as possible,but to no avail. Eddie notices, and immediately sheds his jacket, not giving you a chance to refuse it as he drapes the leather over your shoulders. 

“I thought he was a cool dude. Thought you guys would hit it off.” His answer does nothing to satiate the hunger for every detail of every single thought that went through his brain up until this very moment. He is driving you fucking insane. “Hey, I bet I could get Macy to put you on the guestlist, so at least tonight won’t be a total waste?” Yet another peace offering from Eddie Munson. Hell must have frozen over.

He doesn’t wait for your approval before reaching into his inner jacket pocket of the coat that you have since put fully on to shield yourself from the wind, to grab his phone. After eagerly punching a few buttons, he holds the device up to his ear, plugging the other with his finger. “Hey, babe. I’m outside with Bee, Scott stood her up.” You can’t hear what Macy’s response is, but Eddie replies with, “You read my mind, honey. We’ll be in in a sec.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to you, his big brown eyes attempting, it seems, to read your mind. “You pissed?”

You shake your head, inhaling another drag of your cigarette. “Not really. Disappointed, I guess.” You pick at your cuticles, refusing to hold eye contact with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop him from boring his own into the top of your head; you can feel them penetrating your skull. “Could’a used the distraction.”

“Fancy me a distractor? Macy’s gonna be busy, I’m practically all by myself tonight.” You look up, and Eddie’s jutting his bottom lip out to pout at you. 

“You don’t mind being seen with me?” You tease, flicking ash onto the concrete. You can’t imagine Eddie actually wants you to agree to this offer.

“Why would I? When have I ever cared what people think of me? Especially these posers.” He gestures to you, and you fake offense.

“Posers?! I’ll have you know I have met some of the most authentic punks at places like this, you dweeb!” You toss your cigarette butt on the ground, stomping out the embers with your boot. 

“Sorry, sorry! I’m used to going to shows where people leave bloody. Not used to this side of the alternative Venn Diagram, I guess.” He flicks his own cigarette, mirroring your movements. “Shall we go inside?” You nod begrudgingly, and he opens the door to the club for you, stopping to give the bouncer your names.

–

The club is dark, expectedly. The lights flash shades of pink, purple, and blue as people dance and attempt to chat over the noise; and the whole scene is set to the music of your childhood and teen years. As Eddie leads you across the floor, you can feel your chest tighten, watching couples surrounding you, dancing or sloppily making out against the back wall. You let it sink in that you've been stood up. The first time in three years you’d even attempted to go on a date, and the guy didn’t even show up. You hum along to the song playing, a desperate plea for distraction from the situation in front of you. Meanwhile, Eddie leads you to a table away from the speakers, and shouts that he’ll be right back. You can only guess he’s off to wish his girlfriend luck.

While you wait, you observe the crowd around you, and it’s full of kids you knew in high school that used to bully you for liking this kind of music, dressed as caricatures with arm warmers and cheap chains dangling off their black skinny jeans. Conventionally attractive girls wear their eyeliner in heavy wings, their lips painted shades of dark red, dancing with boys in all black with long hair. You try not to think about what Scotty would have worn. You wonder if he even likes this kind of thing. Maybe it was a test, and you'd failed.

Just as you’re about to spiral into misery again, Eddie returns with two drinks in his hands. “You like shirleys, right? I wasn’t totally sure. I can go grab you something else if you want?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Eddie was nervous.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem!” He has to yell over the music.

“And, uh, thanks for hanging out with me. I know it’s like, the last thing you wanna be doing right now.”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding, “Nah, definitely not the last thing. This is way better than listening to Steve talk about his latest conquest.” You picture the scenario, Eddie slamming his head against a wall while Steve goes on and on about Tracy, or Nicole, or whoever it is this week. The mental image makes you giggle, and Eddie’s smile seems to widen. It makes you uncomfortable, being so close to him. Luckily, though, you don’t get to think about it too long.

“Alright, alright! Thank you guys for comin’ out to hang with us! We have a guest for you tonight, please welcome Macy Miller, frontwoman of Statuesque Dolls!” The crowd cheers politely, these things never have people worth freaking out over. Macy takes the stage, clad in a silky black dress that hugs her form perfectly. Next to you, Eddie is whooping and hollering, “That’s my girl!” It makes your stomach churn. You’re reminded again that you’re supposed to be here on a date. You’re supposed to be someone’s girl. 

“Alright, I got a couple of songs for you guys, but I need all of you up and shaking some emo ass with me, got it?!” You can’t deny Macy knows how to work a crowd. She gets people to migrate to the dance floor, and Eddie offers his hand out. “Can I have this dance?”

“Um,” You hesitate to take his outstretched palm. “What about Macy?” You point lamely to where Macy is killing her cover of Fall Out Boy’s XO.

“What about her? It’s a dance, Bee. I’m not, like, asking you to sleep with me or some shit.” Eddie frowns at you, like you’ve offended him.

He does have a point, though. One dance won’t kill you. You accept his gesture, taking his own massive hand in yours, and hope to god he can’t tell that yours is sweating. He leads you to the dance floor, waving to Macy from the crowd as he does. There’s a burn in your stomach when she blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it in his mouth. You’re close to bailing when Eddie turns his attention back to you, clearing his throat.

You stare back at him, eyes wide with fear that he’s going to bail, and you prepare to tuck your tail between your legs and call Robin. Instead, Eddie takes your hand again, and yanks you into his embrace. You bump into his chest, but he recovers the fumble by holding you there, free arm resting hesitantly on your waist. You’re frozen, having no clue where to put your hands, so Eddie takes the lead. He drops the hand he’s holding on his shoulder, and moves your other to meet it on the other side. He then rests both his hands on your hips, giving you enough space between his body and yours to breathe, but barely.

The song continues, melodramatic and overtly horny. That, combined with the warmth of the drink in your veins, plus the closeness of Eddie, makes you feel almost good. It’s difficult not to overthink, though, having him in your personal space, your bodies pressed together on a very hot, crowded dance floor, moving in ways you definitely wouldn't have done three hours ago.

“So,” Eddie muses, looking anywhere but at you as he speaks, but still able to move in sync with you. “How’s your day goin’?”

You snicker at his poor attempt at conversation. “Well, I got stood up, and now I’m dancing with who I would have bet this morning wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. All things considered, I think it’s going pretty horribly!” 

The ice seems to crack as you speak, Eddie visibly relaxing as you sway to the music. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you pleasantly surprised?”

You look up at him, but his eyes are locked over your head, staring where Macy stands onstage, swaying with a few friends in front of the DJ booth. You shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at you. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends and Macy queues another rock anthem to get the crowd moving again. You’re unmoving as Eddie unwraps himself from you. “We should do this again sometime.” He states, unreadable.

“What, dance?”

“Sure, or just, y'know, hang out. Be civil for once. It’s been awhile.”

You roll your eyes. “You know this can’t be, like, a normal thing. It bruises our reputation as sworn enemies.” A feeble attempt to make it a joke, though you know in your heart you can’t be friends with Eddie. The earth would cave in on itself. 

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, Bee. See ya ‘round.” And he leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

–

It’s 11:30 when your phone buzzes. You’re four drinks deep, stirring another dirty shirley at the bar, observing the people around you having fun.

Scotty A: Hey! Totally meant to text you. Got stuck at work.

An avalanche of thoughts rumbles through you, most of them not safe for work. You don’t even know how to respond. There’s no apology, no groveling for your forgiveness, not a hint of actual, real regret. Like you don’t matter. It exhausts you to even think of what that date would’ve been like had he shown up. You type your response between gulps of liquid courage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

The "..." bubble appears, but quickly vanishes. You gape at your phone, wishing you were home so you could let out the blood curdling scream building in your chest. The anger vibrating through you needs an escape, so you lurch from your seat at the bar, rushing quickly out of the club. Eddie whips his head around as you pass him. You think you hear him call your name, but your eyes have started stinging and he’s the last person you want to see you cry.

The night air hits you hard, bringing separate tears to your eyes. Following your therapist’s advice, you start a box breathing exercise. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. 

“Hey,” The voice startles you into a hiccup. “You okay?” Eddie has made his way outside after you, leaning against the wall. “Saw you dash outta there like something caught fire. Got worried.” He says it nonchalantly, and it takes you aback. Instead of responding, you flip your phone screen towards him. His eyes scan the page before they focus back on you, shaking his head. “That is so fucked up.”

Your voice breaks with your next question. “Did you know this was gonna happen? Scotty’s your friend.”

Eddie’s face drops into a grimace. “How would I have known? Why would I have told him to hit you up if I knew this was gonna happen?” 

It frustrates you how reasonable he’s being. You want someone to yell at, someone to blame, and Eddie just so happens to be the closest target. “I don’t know! Maybe you did it as revenge, or something equally as immature. Maybe you wanted me to feel the same way you did when–”

He interrupts, shaking his head feverishly. “I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Even you.” The words are a knife to your chest. You don’t like remembering what you did to Eddie that night, but it’s your fault for bringing it up. “I told Scotty to ask you out because he said he liked you. Crazy concept, I know, but i suggest you stop thinking everyone’s out to get you. I thought it would be fun, hanging out with you and him. I’m sorry it didn’t go how you planned, but blaming me isn’t fucking fair, Bee.”

He’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to back down. “It’s not fair to take someone’s brother away for six years, but you had no problem doing that.”

“Fuck you, Bee. Seriously.” He spits the words before turning on his heel, and heading inside. You are once again left alone, outside, in the cold.

–

[cyripticchronicler]

The Things Unseen - Part 2

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: Words were powerful and Remus knew it well. After weeks of sending meaningful poems to each other, you're finally ready to talk to the man who’s saved you in person.

TW: Reader has bad mental health, kissing, Remus also having bad mental health

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post, I got back into my Sims phase. Luckily, Happy Feet got me out of my writing slump (Yippiee). Thank you @amatoanima and @mayuwolfstar for asking to be tagged. Your support means a lot <3

Part One

Masterlist

You had been pacing so much that you were scared you were going to burn a hole in the worn carpet. “I shouldn’t do this. This is so dumb,” Your hands shake at your side as you fiddle with the parchment in your hand.

Lily, who's been watching you with an amused eye as you freak out, stands up from her spot on your bed and rests her hands on your shoulders, successfully preventing you from moving. You had told her everything; the letters, your not-so-little crush on Remus and how he’d been helping you. After a momentary shock, she helped you write the letter you’re going to give him.

Said letter now rests in your hand, scrunched tightly in your fist and you debate whether or not you should rip it up. You don't; you want him to know that you know - you want to form a connection with the man who has helped you in so many ways.

I see the lines between the lines,

The words you wove, so well-disguised.

A gentle hand, a softer heart—

How long have you been cast as “part”?

Your words have lingered, light and near,

Yet now they’re clear—I know you’re here.

You leave these notes in shadowed halls,

Your voice a whisper, your steps a call.

So meet me where the willow bends,

By moon’s first light, when evening ends.

Let masks fall off, let secrets end,

And let me greet the poet, friend.

“Don’t stress, it’ll all be okay,” Lily mutters, taking the parchment from your hands and tucking it into a random book on your nightstand. “If he’s been sending you these notes then it’s obvious he wants to talk to you! Just give it a go.” You stare at her for a moment and chew your lip in contemplation.

She pressures you with another look and you roll your eyes, yanking the book from her grip and hurrying downstairs to go to the library.

⋆˙⟡🪶─ .✦📜⊹₊ ݁.

The library bustles with students, despite it being the weekend. The room is thick with tension, the upcoming OWL making everyone stressed.

You hope Remus is here; you can’t imagine him being anywhere else because he only visits Hogsmeade when with friends. James is with Lily and Sirius is in detention, leaving Remus alone and hopefully in the library.

You scan the well-lit room, eyes narrowing as they land on the man you’ve been looking for. He sits at a table in the corner, head down and shoulders hunched while he works.

His hand furiously scribbles in a notepad while he reads from the textbook beside it- seemingly doing schoolwork. Your stomach twists anxiously, creating a sickening dizziness that travels up your throat.

You begin to shake your arms out beside you in an attempt to rid yourself of your nerves, but after receiving a cruel, judging look from a random person walking by, you fist your hands together and wrap your arms around your stomach.

With your nails scratching at any skin they can reach, your feet move and create slow, shaking steps toward Remus. He’s clueless-too caught up in school work to notice your shaking body getting closer.

It’s only when you reach the table, thighs hitting the rounded edge, do you speak. “Hey.” Your voice is a desperate whisper and is too quiet to snap Remus out of his working headspace as he shows no acknowledgement of you standing there.

You take a deep breath and speak louder. “Hey.” You cringe at the loudness of your voice, having talked too loud and captured the attention of the students at the next table.

Remus finally looks up from his book, his calm eyes and posture turning into one of panic as he recognises it's you. The way he sputters and the red flames on his cheeks is adorable and you can’t help but melt, shoulders slumping slightly.

After seconds of awkward silence and Remus opening and closing his mouth like a fish, he finally pauses and takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. “Hi,” he finally mutters, voice breathless.

It’s flattering, how much you seem to affect him. He’s never acted like this around you before- yet again, you’ve never randomly visited him before. However, you decide to blame his shortness of breath on a potential panic attack due to him not understanding the work he was doing. Sure. That seems probable.

Smiling through your awkwardness, your shaking hand slowly reaches into the bag slung on your shoulder and pulls out a worn book. His shimmering, caramel eyes track the book that’s clasped tightly in your grip. You're too scared to give it to him. Too scared to see what happens next because what’s been happening has been good. So good.

He gulps- a nervous tic that you don’t miss. His nervousness gives you enough courage to finally speak again. “I-,” you shake your head, hair falling in front of your face and shielding your pink cheeks, “I want you to have this. The, uh, note is on the first page and in case you don’t understand what I’m trying to say-not that I’m calling you dumb or anything, you’re literally smarter than me-“ you swear lightly under your breath, annoyed at your rambling. You carelessly drop the book on the table and rub a hand down your face.

“I’m inviting you to hang out with me. By the weeping willow-“

“When evening ends. After dinner?” Too preoccupied with trying to get out of the embarrassing hole you dug yourself, you failed to notice Remus pick up the book and read the note. You nod quietly.

He now sits there with a goofy sort of smile and a lighter pink to his cheeks. He seems calmer, and more relaxed. You don’t know if you should be scared or not; you can barely handle a shy Remus, how will you deal with a confident one?

“I’ll be there. Of course, I will.” He smiles brightly, glowing with glee. “Don’t feel like you need to hang out with me because I wrote you poems- I purely wrote them to cheer you up. I had no expectations for what would come out of it, besides your happiness.”

“I want to get to know you better, Remus. You’ve helped me a lot more than you could have ever possibly imagined. Let me thank you and maybe learn more about your shadows and scars.”

You find confidence in the sparkle that shimmers in his warm eyes and use it to throw a wink his way before hurrying to the door. You pray you don’t trip over your own two feet because, if the goosebumps appearing on your back are any indication, you get the feeling Remus is watching you leave.

⋆˙⟡🪶─ .✦📜⊹₊ ݁.

Is it embarrassing to admit that you rushed through dinner? And by rushed you mean, you gave your tongue third-degree burns from how hot the food was and choked from the amount of food you were shoving down your throat.

The only reason why you slowed down was because Remus was watching you from further down the table all night. Every time you tried to sneak a peek at him, he was already looking at you. And every time it caused you to blush fiercely and seek out your drink because your mouth suddenly got dry.

He’s never had such an effect on you before. Sure, you couldn’t look him in the eye or hold a long conversation with him, but now you’re so unbelievably infatuated with him and the way he cares for you without being asked to. He knows your deepest secrets and your vulnerabilities, and it scares you.

Standing up from your spot at the long, wooden table, the hall still rings with the loud voices of students, but you want nothing more than to leave. You don’t bother waiting for dessert, even if the cupcakes look scrumptious. Instead, you begin to head towards the whomping willow. It's earlier than you and Remus planned but you’re prepared to wait.

Rabbits frolic through fields and the hiding sun paints you a warm, orange glow as you walk, eyes trained on everything and anything. The school grounds are quiet due to dinner still being on, though you spot some stragglers on your way.

You let the short walk calm you down. The chill air sends goosebumps down your arms yet you welcome the feeling as you're feeling dangerously hot. By the time your eyes land on the twirly roots of the tree, your heart rate has slowed down and you’re able to pull more air into your lungs.

Making sure you don’t get too close to the murderous tree, you take a seat on the ground and draw your legs up to your chest. Silence envelopes you, not even the crickets keeping you company tonight.

Your surroundings don’t stay silent for long as the sound of leaves shuffling fills the stillness not five minutes later. You hurry to stand up, unsure if the intruder is Remus since it’s earlier than you specified.

You quite literally jump when you realise it is Remus, his scarred figure emerging from behind a tree. He chuckles at the scared look on your face, his voice of honey reaching your ears. “Sorry if I scared you. And if I showed up too early,” he walks over to you before plopping himself down on the ground in front of you, careful not to drop the cupcakes in his hands.

You follow his lead and sit across from him, legs crisscrossed with your knees gently touching his. “It’s okay, I just didn’t expect you to be here this early.” He tilts his head and smiles, brown eyes a shade of gold in the fading sunlight. “I saw you leave the hall early and I wanted to see you as soon as possible so I left early, too.” Unaware of the blush that coats your cheeks, he gently places a cupcake in your hand. “You also missed dessert-which was insane, might I add, so I brought you your favourite.”

“Thank you, Remus. You didn’t have to.” His eyes are genuine and kind, staring right back into yours. “But I wanted to.” To hide the squeal that’s begging to break out of your throat, you take a bite of the cupcake in your hand, trying to not devour it like you would if you were alone.

He takes a bite of his own cupcake, humming in enthusiasm. For a couple of seconds, it’s just silence as you both eat your cupcakes. Due to the silence, your mind races, your eyebrows furrowing when a question pops into your head. His eyebrows lift in question at your furrowed brows and you finish your cupcake before answering.

“How did you know cupcakes were my favourite?” Gone was the confident Remus you were eating cupcakes with, replaced with a more bashful one. He shyly licks the icing off of his finger before scratching his eyebrow and avoiding your eyes.

“I-uh-“ he takes a deep breath and clears his throat. “I’ve always been…interested in you? You’re quiet, always there for others and seemingly always happy. You have this way of captivating others, including me, and I just wanted to learn everything I could about you. In other words, I’ve been charmed with you for years now.” By the end of his speech, his words are a mere whisper and you wouldn’t have heard them if everything else weren’t so quiet.

He takes your silence, born from shock at the thought he liked you back, as one to be worried about and panics, forcing himself to look into your eyes and scoot away in case he makes you uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I know I’m creepy and a loser-“

“You scare the shit out of me,” you state honestly. His eyes flash with pain, laced with apology and he opens his mouth again -presumably to apologise-but you interrupt him before he can.

“You scare me because you know me so well,” he looks up, eyes still wary but now filled with hope, “when you gave me that first poem I was distancing myself from everyone. I was skipping classes because I was so tired. I missed out on dinner and breakfast because I had no appetite. And I thought I was okay, just stressed.” You fidget with a hair tie on your wrist, twisting and pulling. “You know me better than I know myself and it’s so scary.”

He pulls your hand away from your wrist and clasps it into his own. His grip is warm and gentle, loose enough to give you enough room to pull it away, but tight enough for you to feel the ridges of his scars in your palm.

“You scare me, too.” He states honestly, pulling at your hand so you finally look up at him. His jaw is clenched, a stray hair falling in front of his eye. He looks so handsome.

“Yeah?”

“Merlin yes,” he scoffs a laugh, “you have so much power over me. I would fall to my knees in front of you if you asked. I want to tell you about my past, and how I got these scars. I want to tell you my problems and my dreams. I want to open up to you, more than I have anyone else. And that scares me.”

You’re left breathless, heart in your throat as you try to battle away tears. “I want you to open up to me.” You mutter that first thing that comes to mind, unsure of what to say but wanting to say something.

He smiles sadly, “I’m not sure you’d like me much if I told you everything, though.” You shake your head immediately and tighten your grip on his hand. “There’s nothing you could say to me that would make me like you less.”

He nods his head at your words and lays down on his back. Before you could even blink, he’s pulling you down with him, your head resting on his chest and listening to his heart. By now the sun is gone, replaced by thousands of glittering stars that shimmer in your eyes.

“There’s this man, Fenir Greyback, and when I was four…” you cling to every word he says, knowing that whatever he says to you won’t change what you thought about him.

⋆˙⟡🪶─ .✦📜⊹₊ ݁.

Remus’ voice is raw from hours of speaking once he’s finished pouring his heart out. He holds his breath, ready for you to stand up and walk away at any moment.

He feels you pull away from him and has to bite back a pained cry. He knew you’d leave. That the truth would disgust you. Push you away-

The feeling of your warm and gentle lips on his has his thoughts racing away. A gentle palm moves to cup your cheek, calloused thumb stroking the soft skin ever so gently. Your quiet groan has him deepening the kiss, tongue mixing with yours.

You pull away ever so slightly, resting your forehead on his and opening your eyes. “I told you. I could never like you less.” His throat bobs with a mix of emotions. “Well then I guess we have each other now, don’t we?”

You smile. “I guess we do. Thank you.”

“What for, love?” You can feel his smile against your heated cheek as he rubs the side of his nose against your cheekbone lovingly. “For giving me those poems. They helped. A lot.”

“I guess that means I have to keep writing them for you, huh?”

“I’d like nothing more. I’ll make sure to write back.” You kiss him again, ready to get lost in his warm lips and kind hands. He’s yours and you are his.

[silverskyeline]

I've recently lost a pet, my cat, and greiving quite a bit. i was wondering if you could do a super fluffy wolverine fic of him just saying everythings gonna be ok, it sounds silly now im typing this lol <3

I love your fics btw!!!! :3

hey anon <3 i am so so sorry for your loss, i've been there and i know how hard it is. it's not silly at all!! i hope this fic is okay for you, ily and i hope you're looking after yourself! please take care!

ੈ♡˳ 'grief' - logan howlett x gn!reader

summary: logan wants to help comfort you, the way that you often comfort him. (930 words) tags: logan comforts you, fluffy, chaste kisses, gentle touches, very brief mention of grief, very brief mention of loss, established relationship.

logan's eyes flutter open, almost on instinct. when he glances to the side, his suspicions are confirmed - you've been awake for a while. he can tell by the way your eyes scan the ceiling above you, tracing patterns and cracks in the paint like they're highways you're speeding down to escape the thoughts in your head. he knows that look because he too often finds himself speeding down those same highways.

he turns, wrapping a thick arm around your waist to pull you closer, nuzzling his stubble into the base of your neck. he takes a deep breath, encouraging you to do the same. when your chest rises with his, he exhales deeply, pressing a soft kiss to your skin in praise.

"mornin', bub," he whispers, his voice soft, a tone he reserves only for you, even more so on days like these.

you rest your head upon the top of his in a silent reply, cheek nestling against his fluffy hair. you breathe in his scent, relishing in the way it's so familiar and grounding to you.

his arm squeezes around you, eyes flitting up to your face, taking in your weathered expression. he wishes he could take away those dark thoughts in your head, the feelings that weigh you down - but he knows it ain't that simple, been there himself way too many times to foolishly believe otherwise. logan thinks of all the times you've held him, your gentle reassurances, how easy it seems to come to you to offer that comfort.

he wants to do the same for you.

"it's gonna be okay," he hums, punctuating his words with delicate, chaste kisses to your neck, "i know it. . . it hurts right now, darlin', i know it does. it's. . . alright to hurt."

logan curses himself internally, he wasn't good at this shit - wanted to be as good as you were, saw how the words came naturally to you. meanwhile, he's flipping through every single word he's ever known and nothing feels right.

"you don't need to hurt alone, though," he continues, swallowing the doubt he holds in his abilities, "you know i'm here. . ." lifting his head, he looks into your eyes, "you know i got you."

your eyes meet and you can tell he means it, really means it. he's trying hard, trying so hard. an honest crooked smile curls on his lips, one that's all logan, and it threatens a smile on your lips too.

you take a moment to feel him beside you, to get lost in the peacefulness that his company allows so naturally. his heartbeat is calm yet firm against your arm that finds itself pressed against his chest, the gentle 'thump thump' lulling you.

"that grief you got in your chest," he presses a large palm against your torso as though he can feel it - and in a way he can, you're connected enough emotionally that he can often tell what you're really feeling before you know it yourself, finding clues in the way your shoulders tense or the subtle tremble in your hands, "you can share it with me, y'know."

the palm on your chest travels upwards to cup your cheek, brushing a calloused thumb across your soft skin, "listen to me, everythin' is gonna be okay, you hear me?" his tone turns firm, but still loving, "i've lost enough people to know how fuckin' hard it is, it eats away at you, feels like you're chokin' on words unspoken or things you coulda' done or things you didn't do but. . . in the end, you loved 'em. they knew that."

the words hit you, emphasised by the delicate tone of his voice. you bask in the comfort he provides.

logan leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering there a moment in the hopes that somehow it helps his words sink in. "i know i ain't good at this kinda thing, darlin' - but. . ." he pulls back, vulnerability etched on his face as his eyes link with yours, "i just. . . i guess what i'm tryin' to say is i'm. . . here for you."

and you know he is, sometimes it's hard to believe. logan, the wolverine, a man who once kept everyone at arm's length and vowed never to let anyone in again is here now, in bed, with you, comforting you with thoughtful words and soft touches.

you know he means what he says, because displaying softness is not something that comes easy to him, it's not something he allows himself to be around others. but with you? it's different.

"let's make you some breakfast, huh?" he peppers soothing kisses across your face, over your forehead, down along the slope of your nose, across your cheeks. . . hoping to elicit a smile, something that tells him he's breaking through that tough exterior you've built to keep yourself in that dark place.

and it works, because a ghost of a smile tugs at your lips.

logan smiles in silent victory, finally pressing a kiss to your lips before sitting up, taking your hand in his, "c'mon, let me spoil you today."

you reluctantly ease out of bed, following him - because you know he's right, everything will be okay. the fog will clear, little by little, navigating your way to sunny skies in time. and though the grief remains, it morphs. instead of reminding you of what you've lost, it reminds you of the good it gifted you, and the good that you too, shared with them.

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: Everything We Lost In The Fire

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna has to make a stand.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: Violence

2.2k words

A/N Please know tags have been spotty so check and make sure you're caught up! Also I am sick so sorry if the writing is mid lololol im trying.

"We don't have to wait for anyone to follow Burn all the yesterdays, give us our tomorrow Love is like a flame in our desire We'll have to sacrifice everything we lost in the fire." ~Everything We Lost in the Fire, Blue October

Wrapped up in Will’s arms, you try to focus on Francisco’s kisses, not the fact Will’s hands were on your breast, Ben’s mouth was on your cunt, or Santi’s body was incassing Francisco.

It had been nearly 3 weeks since Rey’s body was burned, and you were expected to pretend like nothing was happening. Pretend that after your baby is born, Santi won’t have you and Iris killed. Well, definitely Iris. Will had a way of convincing Santiago to follow his lead, and Will still seemed to love you… but Iris was certainly dead. It was probably Francisco and Will who convinced Santi not to kill her after the fire incident, that more stress would surely trigger something in your pregnancy… That was all Santiago cared about. Not you, definitely not Iris. Just the savior…

You wonder if he believes in the savior. You wonder if you even believe in the savior… You didn’t know what you believed, honestly.

Francisco’s tongue explored your mouth for the 100th time, and you tried to find solace in him but it was growing harder and harder as time went on. You felt alone, you felt like Iris was the only one who actually understood what you were going through. Sometimes, when your husbands were asleep, you’d sneak out to the servants quarters. You’d try not to think about Rey or Jonah’s rooms as you passed them, softly knocking on Iris’s door. She’d tell you to come in, and you’d find her in bed, usually crying.

 Carefully, you crawl into  bed with her, and just lay there. Sometimes you cry with her. Sometimes she holds you. Rarely, you talk. Iris would answer questions you had, truth of the attempted revolt as she knew it, Jonah’s affair with Delilah, Beatriz's murder, Jonah dancing at your fathers death. You knew you should hate Jonah, but something inside you continued that attachment. It wasn’t right, he’d tried to rape you, but it was so out of character for him… your brain struggled to make sense of these two versions of Jonah.

After a few hours, you get up and go back to bed with Will or Francisco. You weren’t allowed to be alone with Iris during the day anymore, so you spent most of your time with one of your husbands, and occasionally a guard. None of them were like Rey. They’d all seen him burned, his body beaten and slaughtered. No one wanted to be your friend.

You try to pretend it’s Francisco’s hands on you, you try to block out everything but him, but of course you aren’t that lucky.

Santiago grabs Francisco’s hair, yanking his mouth away from you and to his own lips, kissing him deeply and making Francisco melt in little moans. You can’t help the pang of jealousy that flares up around you. Benny notices too, pulling his lips away from between your legs and planting a sloppy kiss on Francisco’s asscheek, kissing his way to your lover's crack. Soon, you are all but forgotten as Santiago and Ben fight for Franisco’s pleasure.

Ben’s tongue is buried in Francisco’s ass, prodding deep inside the tight hole you’d fucked as well, making Francisco whine and buck as Santiago jerked him off, bringing him to orgasm. Francisco’s seed spilled out onto the sheets, white and sticky rope after rope as Francisco whimpered and moaned. 

Will’s body was firm against you, holding you close with one hand touching your body, the other fingering you and picking you up where Ben left you forgotten. 

You watch as Ben goes straight from ass to mouth, kissing Francisco hard and pulling him by his chubby cheeks away from Santiago. A battle for Francisco’s affection insured, the two men kissing Francisco every which way as Will brought you to orgasm with his fingers reaching around your large stomach.

“Look at our husbands, Madonna.” He murmurs softly in your ear, so soft you can’t help fall into him just a little. “Look how beautiful they are.”

And they were. Objectively, they were all beautiful, sculpted with perfect bodies and handsome features and so utterly obsessed with each other, the clawing at each others skin and biting of their lips didn’t matter. You watch as Santiago draws blood from Ben’s shoulder, a sharp reminder of his position without going too far to invoke Will’s wrath. Francisco clawing his nails down Santiago’s back. Ben edging Santiago’s cock but stopping him as the base, right before climax. You see the matching cuts on Francisco and Santiago’s arms.

They were beautiful. But you couldn’t see their beauty.

You saw Will, who killed Jonah. Jonah, who yes did something terrible to you but was still a father to you. Will, who controlled your every move, who made allowances for Santiago’s behavior again and again and again, who knew what Ben did to Iris but did nothing.

You saw Ben, a rapist who impregnated Iris, who killed Rey.

You saw Santiago, a psychopath who raped and burned you while pregnant, who was responsible for the distruction of so many lives here.

And Francisco, who let it all happen.

*

You fell asleep that night in Francisco's arms, the other retiring to their rooms. You slept with Frankie most nights, Santiago surely letting it go for now until he no longer needed you. What were these last 2 months when he could have an eternity with Francisco? You were deep in sleep, dreaming when something began to wake you. A hand on your mouth. You were certain it was the incubus again, you try to scream but the hand over your mouth is clamped on tight. You open your eyes to see Jonah’s face.

All attempts to scream, to move are fruitless as you wake up, writhing but you are held tightly around the waist, large hands holding down both of your own. Jonah -or the incubus taking his form- didn’t attempt to touch you, instead when you locked eyes with him they were wide with worry. Tired, dark bags under his eyes. You look down. It’s Francisco’s hands that are holding you.

Your body stills, tears forming in your eyes from fear and anger and confusion. Jonah isn’t dead.

Slowly, Francisco’s hand is removed from your mouth to let out a whimper as you turn around to see him. “What’s happening?” You cry to your husband, his soft face looking as scared as you are.

“We’re leaving.” He helps you sit up in the bed, then gets up, getting dressed in the light of the candle.

“No.” You shake your head, inching away from Jonah. “I’m not going anywhere with him.” Your voice is quiet, cracking with emotion as you try to wrap your head around it all. 

Iris’s voice speaks as she lights a candle now, revealing her face in the dark room. “It’s okay, trust me.” She uses your real name.

“But… but he… he tried too…” You couldn’t say the words.

Jonah was knelt at your bed, his eyes pleading for understanding. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for what i did honey. It was wrong. But please… I need you to know I would never, ever have violated you… it doesn’t make what happened any better but… I need you to know how it really happened.”

Shaking in bed, you look to Iris, the only face here you could trust for truth. “Just hear him out. I won’t tell you how to feel.”

Francisco gently tugged you out of bed, dressing you in warm clothing and putting socks and shoes on as Jonah told you what happened. He explained how Will made him a deal, a chance to get Iris out. How Will gave permission to rape you, but he swore up and down he’d kill himself before he took it that far, that he would never have touched you or hurt you, he just needed to scare you.

You couldn’t process this. Will was… Will. You didn’t trust him, but Will protected you! He’d never let someone hurt you to scare a lesson into you!

“No…” You say as Francisco ties your shoes. “No he wouldn’t let someone hurt me… he took a bullet for me!”

Iris shushed you harshly, but Jonah shook his head. “No, he didn’t. Melody was trying to kill Ben because he raped her. Honey…” He sighed. “Iris… she told me about the “incubus…” I thought you knew…”

You blink. “Knew what?”

“Will. He was coming into your room every night… I didn’t- Rey and I thought… we didn’t think he was doing it when you slept. I’m sorry.”

No. No, Will wouldn’t do that. Will wouldn’t take you while you were sleeping! Why would he do that when you were available to him all day every day? You remembered what Santiago said, that if the baby came out with blonde hair, there’d be a problem… When trying to conceive, Francisco was barely talking to you, and Santiago was angry at you the first time you didn’t end up pregnant… you were fill most days by the Miller brothers multiple times…

This baby was likely one of theirs.

“Madonna…” Francisco whispers wrapping his arm around your middle. “We have to go. We’re getting you and Iris out.”

*

Down the halls, you sneak, the four of you walking as quietly as possible and navigating where guards are posted, where the floors creak and moan the most, and how to avoid Ben or Santiago or Will. 

Your heart was beating a million times a minute, your skin on fire with fear, holding your belly. You needed to be brave. This was no life for your baby to grow up in, Santiago was not a parent to raise a child…

For the first time, you realize why your dad was willing to tear everything he knew apart to make a better life for you.

“This way.” Francisco motions, but Jonah stops, making you and Iris stop too.

Jonah whispers. “You said we were going this way? That way is past Ben’s room.”

“There was a change in the guards, Will has them all posted along that side now.”

“And you just now thought to tell me?”

“C’mon.”

Reluctantly, Jonah follows Francisco down the hall, right to Ben’s room where he stops.

“...Frank…”

But Francisco lingers on the door, hand brushing against the wood.

“Frankie, don’t.” Iris pleads, but you are frozen. Jonah grabs Iris, telling you to follow him but you’re frozen in place. He doesn’t see you not following, or he doesn’t care. His priority is Iris, and you can’t blame him for that. You watch in horror as Francisco knocks on the door, and Ben answers with a wide grin.

“Should’ve known you’d come knocking, baby…” He pulls him in for a kiss, pulling his pouty lower lips between his teeth but stopping when he saw you.

“Why is she here?” he says with disdain. It shouldn’t hurt, but it did. He was supposed to love you. He could be the father of your baby… He’s the father of Iris’s baby you remind yourself.

“Benny, Benny I need you to listen to me, okay?” Francisco pleads, his hands pawing at Benny’s baby face, begging for attention, for understanding and suddenly you know what he’s doing.

“Francisco…” You mutter, disappointment clawing at your throat, but both men ignored you.

“Frankie, what's going on?” Ben’s voice was soft and worried, that tender tone he only ever used on Francisco. He half chuckles, and it’s a nervous sound. “You’re scaring me here…”

A soft kiss to his lips. “We need to leave, okay? We gotta get Madonna out of here… she can’t be with Santi, he’s crazy, he’ll kill her.”

Ben shakes his head, laughing lightly in disbelief. “No way, man. We have a duty here. The savior, Santi-”

“FUCK Santi, Ben, I-” Francisco’s voice crack, holding Ben against the wall, his plush lips trailing the younger man’s skin. “Benny, please, I love you, I love you so fucking much. We don’t need him, we can just leave, we can start a new life… Jonah and Iris are leaving, we’ll be far away with Madonna long before anyone knows we’re gone… We don’t need anyone else, we only need each other… Please, please, please, just… come with me…”

Ben searched his face, blue eyes shining. He touched Francisco’s face with such tenderness you didn’t think possible from the hurricane of a man. Ben with Francisco was a totally different man.

But he was still loyal to Santiago above all else.

“Frankie, let’s just go talk to Santi-”

“No, Ben-”

“We’ll work this out, get Iris and Jonah back”

No, no they can’t have her. They can’t fucking touch Iris.

But Francisco just nods, closing his eyes. “Okay. Okay yeah, we’ll make this right.”

 “Francisco!” You are once again ignored.

Francisco closes in on Ben, caging him against the wall as he kisses him. “We’ll be together, right? After the savior is born, we can be together…”

“Yeah baby.” Ben kisses him back, arms wrapped around his thick middle. “Just you and me. We don’t need no one else.”

Francisco raises his hand to Ben’s neck and you think he’s going to caress his face… but then Ben’s movements halt to a stop. Then, a slow jerking of his body, and Francisco whispering, ‘I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry Benny’

Blood trickled down his arm, and as Francisco pulled away you see that Francisco slit his throat. He slowly lowers his lover’s heavy frame to the ground, the younger man’s body still jolting and a gagging, gurgling sound escaping his throat. Ben was dying silently, a complete opposite of the way he lived.

His body shook as the last blood spilled, and all Francisco could do was hold him and cry.

BEN IS DEAD!!!!!!

Also, JONAH IS ALIVE!

next chapter is our finale!!!

what do we think is gonna happen, girlie pops!!!

I have enjoyed so much writing this series, im getting emotional coming to the end!!!!

Love you all soooooo much!

If you like Logan Howlett, check out my new series Be Quiet

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[rachiebeee]

they are best friends and siblings and i love them both so dearly. featuring piercings bc i stand strong in my belief that they would

[beargregor]

Chef greg delivery just for you. it's a wonder I hadn't bearified him yet, he's my fave greg too 🔪

gays literally only want one thing (to be chopped up and eaten by a depressed man) and it's fucking disgusting

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[fraternum-momentum]

so so so glad ur art has been taking off lately... i've loved ur dol art for ages now, so it's fun to see things with a wider appeal blow up! nwn

ty for sticking with me for so long !!!! it's honestly so surreal tbh,, im just kinda doing whatever comes to mind / whatever i want to do, im glad people seem to like it :33