#this goes to my buddies who are going through tough times: your happiness matters and it warms my heart to see it

[takasgf]

seeing my friends smile and be happy and heal in real time fills me with such undescribable joy. and tears. they got me crying over their smiles

[1kook]

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol  misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart. 

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[a-supernatural-writer]

hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O 

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look. 

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge. 

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining. 

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them. 

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy. 

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest. 

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes. 

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko. 

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green. 

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look. 

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess. 

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour. 

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed. 

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute. 

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it. 

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips. 

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night. 

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along. 

Also, late night bookstore dates�� oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so. 

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions. 

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.  

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights. 

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here. 

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it. 

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to. 

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort. 

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks. 

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings. 

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat. 

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm. 

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires. 

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them. 

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.  

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed. 

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out. 

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own. 

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

[isitbussinjanelle]

I got this idea a while ago as an ask from someone but I don’t remeber who asked. I don’t wanna say the idea cause I don’t wanna spoil it.

WARING: this is a little on the longer side.

*In Heart*

Boun: Ha! I reached the farthest Lilly pad! See if you can beat that, miss ‘datu.

Sisu: ah, keep talking hot shot. [cranks up arm] I am an expert at all things water.

Boun: uh huh.

Sisu: [skids a pebble across the water]

Boun: woah.

Sisu: yeah woah. I’m amazing.

Boun: you almost reached that small island. Fist bump! [holds out a fist]

Sisu, with a bemused look: uh…

Boun: a fist bump. Just bump my fist with yours. It’s something humans do to congratulate eachother.

Sisu: oh! Well then [holds out a furry fist] fist bump back at ‘cha captain!

Boun: [chuckles] okay dork. I’m gonna go fetch some more pebbles by the far side of the lake. [runs off]

Sisu: hurry back dork! [stretched arms] I’ll be ready.

*At the far side of the lake*

Boun: okay um…there they are! The real shiny ones. Perfect skippers.

Raya, sort of in distinctively: [giggles] Namaari quit it!

Boun: is that Raya? [goes towards the laughing sound]

*Over there*

Boun: Ray-

Namaari: ha! I found your sweet spot. That will come in handy. [still tickling her]

Raya: NAMAARI- NAMAARI AHAHAHAA STOP PLEASE

Namaari: there’s that laugh I love. Feeling any better?

Raya: kinda…but not really.

Namaari: what was that? Did I hear ‘please tickle me Namaari’?

Raya: [backs away laughing] NO NO PLEASE XD

Boun: [mumbles] what?

Namaari: c’mon, let me see that pretty smile.

Raya: [smiles goofily up at her]

Namaari: [chuckles] okay I’ll take that.

Raya: thank you Namaari. For cheering me up. And being there for me all the time. You really didn’t have to be here…hearing my sobby shit. [scoffs]

Namaari: hey. [takes her chin] I love you. Wether you’re mad as shit with me, or happy as hell, I will always be here for you Raya. You don’t have to worry about that ever.

Raya: [tearing up] thank you. [pulls her in for a kiss]

Boun: [gasps and whispers] wha…huh…?

Namaari: [pulls her in closer]

Boun: they…she…no…

Bouns mind: but she’s supposed to be with me.

Boun: no no…NO [covers his mouth]

Raya and Namaari: [both pull away at the sound] huh?

Boun: [rips off his bracelet and tears up] I-I’m sorry I- just keep doing what you guys were doing…[backs away while crying]

Raya: Boun? What are you doing out here- and wheres Sisu? Wasn’t she supposed to be with you?

Boun: [yells] NONE OF THAT MATTERS RIGHT NOW OKAY?!

Namaari: [stepping closer to him] hey buddy, what’s the matter, are you crying? You know you can talk to us. To me.

Boun: [kicks pebbles at her] I DONT WANT TO TALK TO YOU. I DONT WANNA TALK TO ANY OF YOU. [throws bracelet on the ground and runs off]

Raya: wha- [shouts] BOUN COME BACK HERE!

Namaari: [stands back up straight] what the hells the matter with him?

Raya: look don’t take that too personally…I think he’s upset about something….

Namaari: yeah I can see that- HE KICKED PEBBLES AT ME >:(

Raya: Namaari.

Namaari: [sighs] sorry. Look do you wanna go talk to him? I mean clearly the little scamps got some beef with me-

Raya: Namaari!

Namaari: what?

Raya: he’s a kid! And he’s upset!

Namaari: and…?

Raya: “scamp”? “hE kIcKeD pEbBlES AT mE WaAAaAaA”, really?

Namaari: [sighs] your right. My bad. But….

Raya: I know. I probably should go see- [gasps].

Namaari: what?

Raya: my- his bracelet. H-he took it off. Threw it off. I made this for him when we became kumandra again.

Namaari: ouch. I guess you really do have to go talk to him huh?

Raya: your right. Your right! Wait- you okay here?

Namaari: [sits back on the ground] I’m a big girl, I can handle being by my self. You just keep those lips warm for me. [makes a kissy face]

Raya, blushing: [giggles and runs off] you dork…

*with boun*

Boun: [still crying]

Raya: [walks over] Boun- BOUN! I’m glad I found you-

Sisu: [hugging and comforting him] Raya. What did you do.

Raya: um…

Boun: [sniffing] I don’t wanna talk to you.

Raya: buddy what did I do?

Boun: STOP CALLING ME BUDDY! AND STOP TREATING ME LIKE A LITTLE KID, O-OR YOUR LITTLE BROTHER! [runs off again]

Raya and Sisu: Boun!

Raya: [tears up a little from earlier and sighs] Sisu what did I do? Why is he so mad at me? And Namaari?

Sisu: I don’t- wait he’s mad at ‘maari too?

Raya: he kicked pebbles at her.

Sisu: yikes.

Raya: but for real what did I do? I’m sure he told you something.

Sisu: girl I don’t know. All I know is that the kid came to me with an eye full of tears. He started mumbling like, “why doesn’t she love me like she loves her” yada yada. I was too busy comforting him to listen.

Raya: [mumbles and repeats it to herself] why doesn’t she like me like she likes her…I don’t get it! It doesn’t make any sense..

Sisu: I know. But this is somehow on you, so I think you should go check on him.

Raya: I know. That’s what I was trying to do. [runs after him] THANKS SISU

*with Boun again*

Raya: Boun? I heard you sniffling over here. C’mon I just wanna talk.

Boun: [behind a large rock] I’m here.

Raya: whew, there you are. For a second I thought I would have to run all over Heart to find you. [chuckles]

Boun:

Raya: tough crowd.

Boun: I’m not in the mood to laugh.

Raya: well, are you in more of a mood to talk?

Boun: no.

Raya: jk, that’s wasn’t an option little guy. [kneels by him].

Boun: stop calling me little.

Raya: look, I don’t appreciate the way you were talking to me back there. And I don’t like the way you kicked pebbles at Namaari. Neither did she.

Boun: WELL IM SORRY FOR HURTING YOUR PRECIOUS GIRLFRIEND. [ducks his head into his knees and cries].

Raya: [is about to shout at him but realizes that’s probably not what’s best] hey. Talk to me please. [puts a hand on his shoulder].

Boun: [sniffles] I kinda have a crush on you or whatever. [wipes tears]

Raya: a crush…on me? Is that why you were all upset? With Namaari kissing me…

Boun: [mumbles in a tearful voice] y-yeah. I have ever since we met on my boat…

Raya: awww..

Boun: see?! That’s what I was trying to avoid? The whole “aww he’s cute for having a crush on me” thing. I wanna be taken seriously is that so much to ask?

Raya:

Raya: [sighs] look, I get it. The whole, wanting to be taken seriously thing. I go through it.

Boun: you do? But your a princess.

Raya: yeah. A young one. 18 is the legal age that Princesses are aloud to join council meetings, and I’m usually the youngest one. I’m also usually the only female. I’m not taken seriously a whole lot.

Boun: oh.

Raya: yeah. I guess we’ve got that in common huh? [bumps shoulders with him]

Boun: yeah. [wipes nose]

Raya: I’m flattered that you like me, but you know I’m too old for you, right? Plus I don’t even like guys.

Boun: [laughs] yeah, yeah I know.

Raya: but hey, I know that one day, when your older, or even now, you’re gonna be breaking hearts left and right.

Boun: you think?

Raya: I know. Girls love a man who can wipe it up in the kitchen.

Boun: I guess that is one of my many skills. [flexes]

Raya: [laughs] Boun, you are too funny.

Boun: :D

Raya: [looks at the bracelet in her palm] you Uh…dropped this…

Boun: [gasps] oh I am so so so sorry…I was just so mad and at the moment, it seemed like the only thing to do that would make me feel better…it didn’t.

Raya: it’s alright.

Boun: [puts the bracelet back on] all better.

Raya: looks great on you.

Boun: agreed. Really brings out my eyes. :)

Raya: [giggles] it does.

Boun: :)

Raya: hey [holds her wrist up] let’s never stop being friends, okay? No matter where life takes us?

Boun: never [connects his wrist and bracelet with hers]

Raya: [pulls him in] love you man.

Boun: love you too Ray.

Raya: you know your not off the hook yet. You’ve got to apologize to Namaari.

Boun: ugh. I know…

[chocoholicannanymous]

Concepts in Action (Glee)

Follow-up to Concepts of Insanity, spawned by a talk with @jwmelmoth

Slighty different mood than that one, but same base principle.

Returning to the loft after skating should be a relief after the awkwardness of doing such a loaded activity with his ex. Except it doesn't feel that good, and he's got some uncomfortable suspicions regarding Blaine's backpack.

“So, dad. You brought Blaine. Exactly when's his ticket back?”

“Day after tomorrow, same as mine.”

“Right. And where is he staying?”

“Well...” His dad's facial expression answers that question in a way that makes Kurt's heart sink.

Fan.Tast.Ic.

“So when you said I could return my present if I wanted to, exactly how was that supposed to work? It isn't, is it? I'm stuck with him whether I want to or not.”

“Kurt!”

His dad's voice is full of surprise and a bit of censor, but Kurt isn't going to let that influence him. His dad's crossed a line, and Kurt's not going to pretend otherwise.

“Remember the first Christmas after mom passed away? How you sat me down and apologized for my presents, before I'd even opened them, because you just weren't good at buying gifts? And remember how I told you that anything you'd gotten me would be perfect, because it was from you and I loved you? Yes?

“Okay. I still love you, but I'm taking the rest of that back. You coming here to tell me you have cancer was bad enough. Finding out you consider my ex an acceptable 'gift' for Christmas goes from bad to really shitty, and I don't know what you were thinking. Especially seeing as apparently you felt it was okay to tell him about your cancer before telling me.”

“I didn't want you to be alone.”

Kurt just stares, unable to process.

“I have cancer, and I knew you'd have a hard time to deal. I brought Blaine because I figured you'd need the support, the comfort.”

“And you brought my ex for that?”

Then again, support wasn't Blaine's strongest suit even when we were together, was it?

“Hey, you're the one who told me he wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend too.”

“Yes, but that was before” he cheated on me “we broke up.”

His dad still doesn't seem to get it and Kurt can't take it.

“You know what, I need some air. I'm going to take a walk. You stay here, make sure Blaine stays out of my bedroom.”

Kurt starts out with going around the block, but he's still upset after and takes another loop, this time longer. It takes half an hour for him to feel ready to go back inside and deal.

Sitting on the couch with his dad and Blaine as they watch baseball is annoying as hell. Any other time, he'd take the closeness and read Vogue, especially now that his dad has admitted to knowing about it. But with Blaine actually watching and interacting with his dad about the game Kurt feels uncomfortable not doing the same. So he tries. Once he gives up and reaches for his magazine he heard his dad and Blaine joke about having bet about how long he'd hold out.

And then the next hit comes.

“So, Kurt, I know that this might be a bit weird for you, and you can totally say no if you want to,” sure, just like I could return the 'gift' of your presence, “ but I'm applying to NYADA for next year.”

Kurt sighs silently. Of course he is. The thing is, he can see it, the way Blaine probably assumes it'll play out. Blaine moving to New York, going to NYADA, buddying up to Rachel just like in high school... Kurt being expected to just take it, regardless of if he had been accepted or not. Any contacts Kurt might have gotten supposed to be at Blaine's beck and call, Blaine talking his way into Kurt's classes trying to replace him, like he had in Glee and with Cheerios... Kurt bending over backwards to make Blaine happy, just like in high school.

Because there would never be a chance of him being allowed to continue to say no to Blaine with them at the same school.

Thank god that's not going to happen.

And really, what was Blaine trying to do here? Pretending that Kurt's opinion mattered? The time for that would have been months ago, before applying.

“Oh really? You know what, I think NYADA might be perfect for you.” Not in terms of actual schooling, maybe, as Kurt's had the blinds torn off regarding Blaine's talent, but for the rest... He imagines Carmen Tibideaux subjecting Blaine to some of her special treatment. The definition of Karma, surely.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. From everything I've heard you'd get along really well with the dean, and well, Rachel seems to thrive. Good luck.”

With no encouragement to keep talking about NYADA Blaine wanders off to grab something to drink and Kurt refocuses on his dad, trying to squeeze out as much of this visit as possible.

“Hey Kurt? What does NUY want with you?”

Kurt turns his head so fast it feels like he's in danger of whiplash.

“Are you going through my mail? Stop it!”

The words come out hard and he can see both his dad and Blaine react. He doesn't care though.

“You know, you going through my personal things wasn't cute when we dated either. Back then I just cared more about keeping the peace than about keeping my privacy. Since that's not a problem anymore, let me just be clear. I might be allowing you to stay here, but that's not an invitation in any way. Not to snooping, not to feeling at home, and not to getting back together.

“This is my home, and you are – putting it kindly – a guest. Behave with the decency I know your mom expects of you. If you can't do that then leave.”

He wishes Blaine would, but knows it's not likely.

“Buddy...”

“Kurt! You can't mean that you'd throw me out. Where would I go?”

Blaine looks like Kurt has done the verbal equivalent of throwing a bucket of ice water in his face. It has no effect on Kurt's resolve though.

“I neither know nor care. You either respect my home or you don't stay in it. This is New York. There are thousands of hotels and hostels.”

His dad just stares at him, as if he doesn't know who Kurt is anymore, and it hurts. Out of all the people liking Blaine better than him Kurt had never figured his dad would be one. And yet here he was, feeling the same way as he'd once felt with Finn.

“Buddy, you're being a bit harsh here, don't you think? Yes, I'll admit that maybe bringing Blaine without warning you was a little...impulsive, but why are you so angry? And don't be so hardnosed about getting back together, for your own sake.

“Like I said earlier, love's important. Holding on to love is important. I don't want you to throw away what you and Blaine have, not when you never know what will happen, or how long you'll have that opportunity. It's a cruel world, Kurt, but having someone to share with makes it better.”

Kurt takes a deep breath and tries, really really tries to keep his bitterness in. He's not doing that great a job.

“Holding on to love is important, sure. But there's such a thing as holding on too long and too hard. Blaine and I broke up for good reasons, and I wish you'd respect that.”

It's like his dad isn't even hearing him though.

“You know, your mom and I found it hard being apart too.”

Kurt did know. As a kid he'd loved hearing about his mom's semester in France, and he'd been told enough to know that it'd been tough. He'd read some of their letters to each other though, and he doubts either of them dealt the way Blaine did.

“So? Yes, being apart is hard. But that isn't an excuse for everything. I didn't want to get you involved in all of this, but since that's obviously not going to be an option anymore, fine. Blaine cheated. He felt I didn't pay enough attention to him, you know, between finding a job and a place to stay, and making enough money to pay the bills, and generally trying to make myself a life here after he practically pushed me to go here.

“And so he went and found someone else to give him that attention.”

He practically spits out the last sentence. It feels good to finally allow himself to say it, but the look on his dad's face doesn't feel as good.

If he was less angry maybe he'd be able to stop himself, worry about his dad's heart. But the anger's been simmering too long for that.

“That's why we broke up, and that's why I find the idea of getting back together objectionable. And you can talk about holding on to love until you're blue in the face, but I'm not the one who needs that lecture.”

He swallows down the lump in his throat, but goes on.

“As for the rest of it, are you seriously suggesting I take back my cheating boyfriend because that's better than being alone? Or because I don't know how long I'll live? Because if you are... What's next, dad? Telling me I should marry him because you and mom didn't get enough time together?

“If any of those things are going through your head you are also welcome to leave. I'll never not welcome you in my home, dad, but I need you to respect me. I need you to not act like you're putting someone else's son above yours.”

That's a warning that hits the target, and it's obvious that Burt Hummel remembers a row of uncomfortable talks about Finn. He deflects by turning on Blaine though.

“You...”

“No, dad. It is over and done with. Leave him be. Just... Just leave it alone. I don't want to take anymore fighting. Please?”

They stare at each other and for a while Kurt wonders if he should have done as he normally does and just backed down. Swallowed down his hurt and anger and frustration, kept quiet about the injustices done to him, and just pretended to be okay. Tried to not upset his dad, and risk his health.

Except he's done that for years, and it's clearly not working. His dad's health has failed again, with the cancer – and no matter how good the prognosis, or the treatments available, a cancer diagnosis is a health failure. Plus his dad is trying to fix him and Blaine, out of some misguided idea that they're going to be the next Burt-and-Lizzie, and he never would have done that if Kurt'd been honest about the cheating instead of blaming distance.

At least Kurt hopes he wouldn't.

“Sometimes, dad, first loves end. They end because of death, or because they're not meant to last, or because of something else. And then you meet someone else, and they make your life amazing. I'm not going to deprive myself of that by holding on to something that's ended. Just like you didn't. You found love again. I will too.

“I just need to be allowed to do so.”

They keep staring at each other, and then his dad nods. Kurt can't help it, he throws himself in his dad's arms, with tears already beginning to fall.

As they hug Kurt hear Blaine muttering in the background about finding a hotel, but he doesn't care. The door to the loft closing feels like it's closing on him and Blaine too, and it's such a relief.

After several minutes they let go. Both need to remove traces of crying, but that's good.

Once they're seated again Kurt searches for something to talk about, but his dad beats him to it.

“So, NYU? Or should I pretend I didn't hear that?”

“No! I have been thinking about things, about school, and I was an idiot for not applying to more schools last year. So, I did some research and then I did something about it. I've applied to half a dozen schools, and I've already been accepted to one for the fall semester. I don't know if there's any school willing to take me for the spring, but if there's not I'll just keep working and try to save up money.”

“And what about NYADA?”

There's no judgment in his dad's voice, and Kurt smiles as he tries to describe the situation diplomatically.

“It's...not looking as good in my research as I thought, so while I did reapply there I'm not sure I want to go there. I really shouldn't have listened to Rachel last year, because as it turns out? NYADA actually isn't the most prestigious school for performing arts, and it's probably not even the best for me. I guess we were both a little starstruck, you know?”

The game is back on, but they ignore it and talk, and it's everything Kurt would have wanted.

O--o---o--O

Months later as classes start up Kurt receives voicemail after voicemail about Blaine starting at NYADA, about how bad it is that Kurt's not been accepted, about them meeting up. Kurt ignores them as he did the calls and walks into vogue.com with a smile.

He doesn't feel the least bad about not getting in. Hell, he didn't even apply for the fall semester.

No, Kurt's happy where he is, with his job at vogue.com, a spot at the New School and a couple of scholarships helping pay the way. Oh, and a new boyfriend, which also contributes to his happiness.

Turns out? Acting in new ways can get you new and rewarding results. All you got to do is try.

[love-hatred-stuff]

Title: ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢ ᵗʸᵖᵉ} Choi San [ateez]

genre: angst, fluff

warning(s): anger issues, possessiveness, San accidently hurts you(lighlty), a bit suggestive, a lot of swearing

word count: about 2.4k

Y/N's POV:

Me and my friends, Wooyoung, f/n and Seonghwa were in a luxurious club, dancing and having fun all night. While Wooyoung and I were sitting on the red leather couch, the other two were dancing wildly on the dance floor to the loud bass music. It gave me chills and I smiled in Wooyoung's face.

"We should meet some time alone again!" He almost screamed so I could even understand him due the noise around us.

"I'm not sure if San will allow me, but sure! It was a whole torture to persuad him to just let me out with you guys."

I slightly rolled my eyes at the memories of the conversation I had with my boyfriend San about this. It really was so exhausting to talk about something like that with him. He was the jealous, overprotective type and his possessiveness were slowly getting on my nerves.

"I'll have to talk to him." Wooyoung yelled again and smiled a little awkwardly. He was surely very good looking and my guy best friend but sometimes he overdid his confidence. I liked him anyways.

"But then he'll beat you up, you know that?"

I stopped counting how many guys he had defaced because they looked wrong at me or complained about his behavior and how he treats me. It was pointless to even try to stop his anger issues when it's about me.

We started dating almost a year ago and he still had these habits.

"That could possibly happen, good, that I'm a man that has muscles and goes to the gym also." He winked at me while smiling.

He always was the flirty type but I knew he wouldn't dare to do anything I don't want. And I also knew that he loves me but just as a best friend. He's more like a brother than to me a boy I would date.

"Good luck then, Woo. You know San is experienced when it's about beating someone up." I reminded him in a joking way but we knew that I was damn right with this point.

"We will see if I can do anything." He ended this topic.

"Does San know, you're with us at a nightclub?" He mentioned his name again.

"Better, he'll fucking never finds out." I smiled a bit intimidated at the thought of if he'd find out.

"Okay, let's enjoy the rest of your life then. Come and dance." He stood up again and pulled me with him on the dance floor.

I just laughed and did what he said. Therefore I went out with my friends, to have a bit fun again. Not that I wasn't happy in my relationship with San, but he always wanted me for himself and I needed for at least a few hours a break after a long time of avoiding boys all day long.

Now everyone around me was absolutely living for the moment and I missed this feeling so much.

San was also out, but doing business instead of having fun.

After hours passed and it was getting later & later, we were getting more tired each second so we decided to end this beautiful night. F/n and Seonghwa drove home in one taxi as me and Wooyoung did the same.

They weren't actually dating, but I knew f/n had feelings for my good friend Hwa since High School.

The ride didn't take long since we had stayed in town and soon arrived at my apartment. I hugged Wooyoung goodbye and stumbled into the apartment's elevator to reach the right floor faster.

I pressed the button for the fourth floor and after a few seconds and a few more steps, I was able to open my apartment door.

I sighed, so relieved that I could take a quick shower and enjoy my lovely bed. To be honest, I never knew if San was sleeping over or not. I was just guessing in this moment, that he would stay at his apartment tonight and walked into my bathroom, taking off my skater dress.

Before I stepped in the shower I looked in the mirror and noticed that my hair was kind of a mess like my eyeliner was, through all the dancing and stuff. After I separated myself from my underwear I could finally enjoy the warm water hitting my small but feminine body.

I was too exhausted to take a long shower and just washed my body and hair quickly, got dressed in cute panties and one of San's white shirts which went up to the middle of my thighs, covering my breasts that were braless.

I wished just in this moment that he would be here, seeing me like this. He loved me in only wearing his tees and my panties. He would fall all over me right now.

I smiled brightly at my imaginations of my boyfriend living rent free in my head. I was really proud to have him. He was pretty popular and so damn handsome that every girl that hadn't a boyfriend, had from at least a little one to a huge crush on him.

But he picked me, the bookworm, which didn't mean I was automatically good in school. I was okay but nothing more.

My ego was just too big to let anyone of the teachers tell me what to do. Everyone said I was so pretty, I could be a model if I were just a little taller but I also had my failures and insecurities. And that was totally fine because I am just a human too. San taught me how to accept and love myself and I was so thankful for it.

When I wanted to crawl into my comfortable bed, I suddenly noticed a tall figure standing in my bedroom.

"My god San! You wanna kill me here?!" I breathed out heavily as my heart was already racing.

"Where the fuck were you so long?" He asked now with a deep but angered voice. And I didn't miss the anger building up in his eyes.

"Out, you know." I just said and laid on my bed, ready to sleep.

"I know. But you didn't told me you were gonna be out till after midnight!"

My eyes scanned his face, waiting for his next move.

"I told you to not be out late and amuse yourself with boys."

I let out a "Pff" sound and closed my eyes, not wanting to believe what he just said to me.

"Y/N!"

"Yes! I know waht you told me but I wanted to have fun once, without you ruining my night okay?! And I would never "amuse myself" with other boys but you in that way! Now shut up and turn the light off. I'm tired of your shit!" My words came out more harshly than I wanted them to be but I wasn't gonna take it back.

So I just closed my eyes again and covered myself up. But nothing moved or sounded like he would do anything.

"What do you mean by that?" I heard his weak voice speak quietly.

Oh god no. I feared this tone so much.

He was usually more a tough guy who didn't show his emotions much to anyone but me. And most of the time he acted all strong around me too, but sometimes his heart just couldn't handle me if I prevailed with a loud voice and harsh words.

And his wound point was when I would mention anything about a break up, even in the slightest.

"Go to sleep, San." I told him in a rather cold tone.

I wanted to avoid a conversation about this and just fucking rest. I really wasn’t in the mood to stand this right now.

"Not until you tell me." He stayed stubborn.

I sighed and sat up straight so I could look at him again.

"Nothing. I'm tired. Could you?" I was tapping on the empty bedside where he was supposed to sleep. I saw how his blue eyes slowly got teary. Fuck.

"Did you mean you're tired of me?" He asked carefully, trying to hold back his tears.

"Noo... I meant that I don't want to be suppressed by you anymore. You always tell me to stay away from boys and I do. Nothing to worry about, right? So the problem is solved. Now sleep San, please." I begged and patted on the mattress again.

"I just don't want anyone to have you like I do. I thought you wanted to be mine also." He looked down.

"I do all of this because I love you so much that I would die for you. I'll do anything but please tell me you're not going to leave me." He pleaded and a tear escaped his eye.

It was rare that he cried but when he did he was really scared. He was scared that I would leave him.

"No I'm not going to, San..."

"You never call me just San." He looked up again with sad eyes, digging into my aching heart.

I thought I dreamed when I heard him sob so softly that my heart began to ache.

"I'm sorry baby, but I am still a bit mad. But I will never leave you, okay?"

He just hummed and layed down on the bed. I covered him with the blanket and stroked through his soft hair before I leaned back again.

I breathed out at his please and kissed him with a bit more pressure.

"Don't cry. Everything's alright baby." I said in a calming voice and turned the last lamp off.

"I'm sorry Y/N, don't be mad at me, you know I can't stand this." He pleased again, gripping my small waist with his hand and pushing me against his hard body.

"Give me my goodnight kiss." He said and looked at me, perking his lips.

I decided to give him one as a treat and turned around to peck him on his lips.

"I don't like short pecks, you know that Y/N." He frowned immediately.

I sighed out and kissed him again, with a bit more pressure.

"It's fine, for now." He was finally satisfied.

And finally we could fall asleep in each other's embraces and get the rest we deserved.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

San's POV

I woke up next to my princess and instantly had to smile.

She was my everything, I was so lucky to have her in my arms.

When my hands slowly caressed her waist up and down, I noticed that she only was wearing her light pink, favorite panties and a white shirt of mine that had slipped up to her upper buddy.

Her ass pressed against my member and I felt how I hardened at this feeling.

Always when we woke up like this I got a morning boner.

Luckily she helped me most times.

But what about today? We kind of fought yesterday, before we got to bed.

I would like to deny it but I fucking cried because of her words.

It was rare but sometimes when she was mad at me, she said words she didn't really mean and I can't stand it if she mentions something that would lead us to break up eventually.

I wanted to keep her forever. I wanted to marry her one day and spend the rest of my life with her.

I would do absolutely everything to prevent that we had to part. That's why I was pretty possessive and "overprotective" over her.

But it didn't matter to me as long as she didn't have much to do with other boys.

Though she actually hated that. She wanted her freedom.

Although it was important to me that she was happy, I wouldn't stop watching with who she was hanging out with.

She let out a sweet groan at my touch and took my hand on her now naked stomach, signalling me that she was wide awake now.

"You're not mad anymore, are you?" I asked with a husky morning voice.

"I can feel your boner, San." She just ignored my question.

"You are so damn hot babe.. How am I supposed to not have one when your cute ass is pressed against it?"

She giggled cutely. Then she turned around and looked at me with her stunning eyes.

"Just take a shower with me, yeah?" She smiled seductively.

"Everything for you baby." I kissed her cheek.

We stood up together and walked to her bathroom.

•••

"San, why were you so rough?" She asked in a quiet voice as she walked out of her room into the kitchen where I was standing.

"I'm sorry." I replied.

"I'm sorry? That's all?" Now she sounded really sad and looked at me with watery eyes and pouty lips.

But I had my reasons and it wondered me why she didn't know why already.

"Oh, you fucking know. You're mine and I had to show you that. As you always forget about it." I spoke in a monotonous way.

"I like it when you go rough sometimes but not when you start hurting me. You bruised my sides, San. What is wrong with you!?" She whined, now even more upset.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you baby." I stepped towards he and tapped her shoulder in apology.

"It's okay. I will meet up with Wooyoung today." She told me as if it was normal for her to meet up with him.

As if she didn't know that I would freak out at this.

"What the fuck, Y/N!? You will not." I tried to suppress an aggressive tone.

"I'm kidding, San. God, you're so controlling." She rolled her eyes back.

My eyes widened again at her statement.

"You're kidding?" I wanted to make sure, a bit to blended from all this stuff going on to even think straight and be able to follow her words properly.

"Yeah, it was supposed to be my revenge, idiot." She snapped again and walked away.

"Don't call me that!" I told her.

She was never this disrespectful. What the heck was going on?

"Y/N? What is it, huh?" I tried to sound soft but obviously failed.

She breathed out heavily, telling me how annoyed she was by now.

"Either you go and leave me alone or..." She bursted out.

My heart stopped for a moment just to start racing rapidly a second later as I realised what she implied to say.

"Or what?" My voice shivered already.

"Or we take a break." And my heartbeat stopped a second time.

"We just had sex and you're telling me, you wanna take a break?" I asked shocked.

I wished this was just a stupid nightmare of mine, because for me it really was at that point.

"Do you love me, San?" She suddenly wanted to know.

"What? Of course I do! I told you last night."

I was so confused and overwhelmed with this situation, I thought I forgot how to breathe properly.

"Why do you try to control me all the time if you really do?"

"That's the thing Y/N. I do that because I love you too much to let some boy near you." I tried to explain meaningfully.

But she was still quietly standing in front of me.

"I'll let you go with him for two hours, okay?" I thought the best thing to do is to give her what she wanted.

I almost missed that tears rolled down my cheeks. I was so damn emotional when it was about her.

"Please say something, love." I begged. Silence was never a good sign.

"I love you too. But you have to promise to let me go out more often. I don't care if it's with you or with my friends but I want some free time." She finally explained.

In the next second she was in my arms and hugged me tightly.

"I promise, Y/N. I love you."

The picture & gif are not mine, credits to the owners

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Makayla Part One

Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 2767

Summary: Five years after abandoning your former hunting partners, you turn up at the bunker pleading for the Winchester’s help. Old wounds open for Sam and Dean goes into protective brother mode. Everything changes when you tell them why you’re there. 

Notes: I imagine this taking place in season 12. 1) because I think Sam is extremely attractive in this season and 2) I wanted to involve Mary. As always, reviews mean the world so don’t be shy! This is going to be another mini series, probably having three or four parts, so be sure to keep me updated on what you think. 

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

The violent rattling of the door was starting to scare her. She was crying, but you didn’t have time to comfort her. You grabbed her duffel bag, swept her up in your arms, and you ran like hell. You got to the car and rapidly buckled her into her car seat before feeling a hand yank you backwards. 

“Mommy!” Makayla cried. The vampire bared his fangs at you and you landed a punch his his nose, stunning him long enough for you to grab the machete from the front seat. 

“Kayla, baby, close your eyes.” You instructed before you lobbed off the vamp’s head with one clean swing. Blood splattered your clothes and the body landed with a thump. Your daughter’s tear filled green-blue eyes opened again and you quickly stood in between her and the gory mess. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

You jumped in the driver seat and practically floored it, ignoring the crunch and bump as you drove over the dead vampire. You drove for about an hour and pulled off into a motel parking lot. Makayla was still crying so you climbed back into the back seat and pulled her into your lap. It was quiet for a moment as her tears slowly stopped. 

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Can you tell me about him again? So I won’t be scared?” You brushed her brown hair back and kissed her forehead. God, she looked just like him.

“Kayla, you must have heard the story a thousand times.” Her innocent look morphed with enough sass to convince anyone. Now that, you were sure she got from her uncle. 

“I want to hear it again.” Adding a pout for good measure, she cuddled up closer to you. “Please?” You chuckled and let out a sigh of defeat. 

“Alright, alright.” Truth is, sometimes it just hurt too much to remember. But Makayla always wanted to hear more and more about her dad. “You’re dad and I had been friends for a long time. We traveled together, along with your uncle, for years and years, killing bad monsters and saving good people.”

“Dad was good at killing monsters, right mom?” A proud smile spread across her face. 

“The best.” You held her tighter, remembering how he used to smile at you when you’d defeat some evil spirit or demon. How you missed that smile.  “After a few years of traveling together, your dad and I fell in love. He protected me and I protected him. We were happy.” This was the part of the story you could never get through. “But one day, I had to go away.”

“Why?” Every time she asked you this and every time you just gave her the same answer. 

“I’ll explain one day. When you’re older.” You ran your fingers through her hair, looking at the stars through the sunroof. “But after I left, I had you.”

“And now we have each other’s backs.” Kayla beamed. You smiled. 

“That’s right.” 

“Mom, what was he like?” No matter how many times she’d heard it, she always wanted to hear more.

“Your dad was the kindest, bravest, and most caring person I’ve ever met. He was sweet and strong and he gave the absolute best hugs in the whole wide world. He had green-blue eyes that lit up when he smiled-”

“Just like me!”

“Just like you.” You pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Your dad showed me what love is. And when I had to go, somebody up there,” You pointed to the stars, “wanted to make sure I could pass that love onto someone else. So they gave me you.” You were both silent for a while, Kayla drinking in your words and you trying to keep your emotions in check. 

“Tell me something new, mom. Please?” She had heard all of this before, but she never could get enough. In her mind, her dad was a superhero. You thought for a moment. 

“Well, your dad had the best laugh. Even after an exhausting day of fighting bad, bad monsters, he could light up the room. His big brother meant the world to him. And me. We were a real family. He was from Kansas. And his name…” You took a deep breath. “Was Sam.” 

-

Five Years Ago

“Sam look out!” You shouted. He ducked and you shot the shape-shifting bitch in the heart. You watched as the false-Jessica crumpled to the ground. This particular freak had a vendetta against Sam for taking down one of its shape shifting buddies. To get revenge, it took the form of Sam’s dead girlfriend, Jessica. Even after seven years, the memory of her still hurt him more than you could ever know. 

For a while, you both just stood there. Sam was frozen, staring down at the shapeshifter’s body, the loss of what could have been lingering sadly in his eyes. You wanted to reach out to him. To hold him and comfort him so that the memories didn’t become nightmares tonight, even though you knew they would. But you knew that you weren’t what he needed. 

“It wasn’t her.” You said, trying not to look at her. Shape shifter or not, she was beautiful. She had been everything he ever wanted. She was normal. And you knew that he would always love her. 

“I know.” He sighed, finally tearing his eyes away from the body. He walked around it and pulled you into a hug without another word. Just holding you reminded him that he was okay. That even after everything he’d lost, he still had you. 

“Hello!” A voice shouted from the basement. “Could you cut the Nicholas Sparks crap and get me out of here!” You and Sam looked at each other. 

“Dean.” In the heat of the fight, you had honestly forgotten that he was caged up in the basement. 

After freeing Dean, you disposed of the body and headed back to the motel for a much needed shower. Sam let you have dibs, despite Dean’s protests. The boys opted to go grab some take out for dinner, telling you they’d be back soon. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, letting Sam drive since his head was still pounding from getting knocked out. Sam took a deep breath. 

“I will be.” He had you now. 

“Y/N kicked ass today.” Dean noted, giving his brother a look. 

“Yeah.” Sam chuckled. “Yeah she did.” Dean shook his head. 

“Uh oh.” 

“What?”

“That is a dangerous look, Sammy.” Dean turned on the radio and Sam quickly switched it off. 

“What look?” 

“You know what look.” When Sam still didn’t understand, Dean sighed. “You love her.” Sam shifted in his seat. 

“Dean, Y/N and I have been together for almost two years now. Maybe...” Sam kept his eyes on the road, but his mind was only thinking about you. “Maybe I do love her. What’s it to you?” Dean laughed. 

“Just buckle up, Sammy.” Deep down, Dean was afraid for his little brother. Y/N was a survivor. And he knew that she would do anything to keep herself from getting hurt, even if it meant hurting Sam in the process. 

-

Present Day

You wouldn’t have come if you had any other choice. You were so far in over your head that you had nearly gotten Makayla hurt and that couldn’t happen again. You needed the help of the best hunters that you knew. So there you stood, outside a worn down looking building in Lebanon, Kansas. Knocking didn’t work and you knew that you weren’t getting through that massive metal door, so your only option was to wait. Luckily, you had a family friend in Hastings who had chopped a few vampire heads in their hunting glory days watching over Kayla. 

You froze at the sound of a gun cocking. 

“Who are you?” It was a woman’s voice. Maybe you had the wrong hideout. 

“I’m looking for the Winchesters.” Still facing the door, you felt the rifle press against the back of your head. 

“Who. Are. You?” She asked again. 

“I’m an old friend.” 

“What do you want with Sam and Dean?” She pressed the rifle a little harder into your skull. 

“Who are you?” You challenged. “How do you know Sam and Dean?” You moved to turn around, but you were knocked out cold as she slammed the butt of the rifle into the back of your head. 

When you woke up, you were tied to a chair in what looked like a kitchen. 

“What the hell…” You groaned, your head aching. A woman was standing in front of you- presumably the one that gave you the concussion. 

“I got you in passed the wardings, so I’m assuming you’re human or some kind of creature.” 

“I’m a hunter.” 

“Even if that is true, what do you want with the Winchesters?”

“I need their help taking care of a nest of vampires.” The more you looked at her, the more familiar her face looked. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” She just narrowed her eyes. 

“Sam and Dean will be back any minute so they can figure this out.” She sighed and walked out of the kitchen. 

“Are you just going to leave me here?” You shouted in annoyance. You didn’t have time for this. You didn’t like being away from Makayla. She had grown up as one tough little girl, but you knew she got scared when you were gone for too long. Thinking of your daughter, you felt a sense of dread wash over you. You were going to have to tell him. But how could you? How do you tell Sam Winchester that he’s had a daughter for the past four years? 

The loud clanging sound of the bunker door opening pulled you out of your planning. You heard Dean’s voice echo down the hall. 

“Mom! We’re back!” Wait… Mom? “Well, I’m back, Sam went to get more coffee, but I think he’s secretly buying conditioner.” 

“Dean, we have a small problem.” You heard your captor tell him before her voice dropped to a whisper. 

“You tied up a girl in our kitchen!” Dean exclaimed and she told him to keep his voice down. He appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. He froze when he saw you, his face changing from worried to pissed. 

“Hey Dean.” You greeted, giving him an awkward smile. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He growled. 

“Can we talk after you untie me?”

“I don’t think I want to.” 

“Dean!” With an aggravated huff, he moved behind you to undo your constraints. “That woman is your mother?”

“It’s a long story that I really don’t feel like explaining to you.” You wiggled your wrists free and stood up, swaying slightly from the dizziness. Dean crossed his arms. “You need to leave.”

“I need your help.” 

“I don’t care.” The last time he was this mad at you was the last time you saw him. You would never forget the look of disgust on his face before he got in the impala and drove away. “You can’t be here when Sam gets back.” 

“Dean, you know I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.” You pleaded. You didn’t blame him for hating you. You broke his number one rule. You hurt his little brother. Before he could respond, you both heard the bunker door again. 

“Dean, why is there another car outside-” Sam started to ask, his words catching in his throat when he walked into the kitchen. “Y/N.” He gasped, his eyes going soft. 

“She was just leaving.” Dean gave you a hard stare. 

“Sam I-”

“What are you doing here?” Sam stood up straighter, pushing his emotions aside, his eyes turning hard like his brother’s. 

“I know that I have no right to be here.” 

“No. You don’t.” His jaw clenched as he resisted the urge to throw his arms around you. Five years since ditching him at a motel in Missouri, why show up now?

“But I need you.” You tried to keep calm, but so many thoughts were bombarding your already pounding head. “I need your help with a hunt.” 

“Why the hell would we help you?” Dean scoffed, getting angrier and angrier by the second. Sam just looked hurt. 

“This is just about a hunt?” He shook his head. He was stupid to think you would come for anything else. 

“Look, I wouldn’t have tracked you two down if I thought I could find anyone else. But everyone knows the Winchesters are the best hunters around.” You had to drop your pride and just say it. “I’m in over my head here, Sam.”

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but that sounds like a you problem. Not an us problem.” Dean motioned for you to leave, but you stood your ground. 

“Sam, please.” You were almost tempted to get on your knees and beg, but your phone started to ring. “Damn it.” You muttered, answering to a worried sounding Naomi. 

“You better get back here, Y/N.” She whispered into the receiver. You could hear Makayla singing along to the radio. 

“Are you driving?” 

“There was a group of men I don’t know at my house so I’m taking Kayla to a motel run by a friend of mine. You better hurry up with those hunting pals and come and get her. She’ll be safer with three of you than just me.” 

“They’re going to need a little more convincing, Naomi.” You hissed, feeling Sam and Dean’s eyes burning into you. She sighed. 

“Well one of them’s her daddy, isn’t he?” 

“Naomi-”

“You’ll have to tell him one way or another. Just get them up here.” She hung up without giving you a chance to argue. You turned back to the brothers. 

“I need you to come to Hastings.” 

“Like hell-” Dean started but Sam interrupted him. 

“Why?” The way he looked at you made you feel like something heavy was weighing on your chest. You couldn’t breathe, let alone tell him about Makayla. 

“I… I can’t tell you.” Before Dean could explode on you, you continued. “I have to show you.” 

“No, no way. I am not driving an hour just to-”

“Okay.” Sam agreed, earning a very irritated glare from his brother. Dean’s eyes darted between the two of you. He ran his hand down his face. 

“Fine. Fine! But I am driving.” 

-

You rode in silence. You offered to take your own car, but Dean insisted on you riding with them. He probably thought you would just cut and run again. So you were forced to endure an hour of agonizing, angry silence. They had told their mother- yeah, their dead mother who was now kicking your ass- that they would be back soon, so it was just the three of you. Dean wouldn’t even turn on the radio. Sam couldn’t look at you. 

You shouldn’t have come. You should have found another hunter- anyone else. The little voice in your head suggested maybe this was just an excuse. A reason to see him again. You had to remind yourself that you were here for Makayla. You would do anything if it meant keeping her safe. But how were you going to tell him?

You arrived at the motel before you could really think of a plan. Naomi said she was in room 6 and she met you outside, thankfully. 

“Is she okay?” You asked quietly. Naomi nodded, eyeing the two men getting out of the car behind you. 

“She’s inside now watching old Scooby-Doo reruns.” She pulled you aside. “So what did he say?” 

“I haven’t told him.” You gulped. Her eyes widened. 

“Well, honey, you better think of something fast.” She motioned to Dean and Sam, who were now walking towards the door. 

“So what is it? What do you have to show us?” Dean huffed. Sam just watched you with curious eyes. 

“Okay, there’s something I need to talk to you about before I open this door.” You took a deep breath, trying to come up with a plan. 

“Mommy!” And there goes the plan. Makayla ran out of the door and latched to your leg. Sam and Dean froze. You bit your lip, putting a hand on her head. 

“Guys, this is Makayla.” You picked her up. Dean’s confusion started to morph into understanding as he looked at her dark hair and bright eyes. You couldn’t read Sam’s face. “Makayla, this is Dean. And this...” You felt terrified tears spring to your eyes. “Is Sam.”

-

Continue to Part Two

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto;

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624​; @halesandy​

Sam Winchester: @theamuz

[imaginesbyem]

BOY - Stiles Stilinski

Summary: (Y/N) and Stiles have a complicated relationship. After she tries to put an end to it, Stiles gets fed up with her treatment towards him, and calls her out on it. 

Based off the song BOY by Charlie Puth

“Hurry up Scott! I’m gonna be late for work!”

“Coming! Sorry, (Y/N).” He runs past me, grabbing an apple and chucking it into his bag. “Oh, and Stiles’ Jeep broke down, so...?” I sigh already knowing what Scott was implying. 

“Yes, I can pick him up.” I say matter-of-factly. “Now, hurry up.”

“Thanks again.” I make my way to my old wagon, double checking I have everything for work. As soon as I close the door I let out a deep sigh. I haven’t seen Stiles for 2 weeks now. Somehow, I’ve been able to avoid him when he comes over, but I knew sometime soon I’d have to face the music. 

The passenger side door opens and Scott excitedly jumps in. He grabs a hold of his lacrosse stick and drums along the pole with his fingers. 

“What’s got you so happy?” I ask, confused.

“Oh nothing, really. I just... everything’s going really good for me right now. For the first time in a long time it feels like the world isn’t out to get me. I wanna enjoy it while I can.” He smiles and I force one back. I turn on the AC, feeling myself heat up when my mind goes back to Stiles and that night 2 weeks ago.

“Stiles” I whimper against his lips as I feel him part my legs and pin me down on the bed. His lips move from mine down to my collar bone, licking and sucking on the tender skin. “Please”

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear the back door close. Stiles ushers his way into the middle seat and pats Scott on the shoulder. 

“Uh, thanks for getting me (Y/N).” 

“No problem.” My lips tighten into a forced smile that appears more like a grimace. My eyes flicker up to the rear mirror and I’m met with Stiles’ face. He’s growing out his stubble, it looks like. My eyes focus on his lips as my mind goes back to that night. But before I can entirely drift away into my thoughts, I see Stiles’ eyes boring back at mine. Immediately, I regain consciousness and focus on the road. 

“Alright, I’ll see you boys at half past three.” I announce as Scott jumps out the car. 

“Thanks again (Y/N)” Scott says as he closes the door. But I realise I only heard one door close and I look back at where Stiles was sitting. Or should I say where he still is sitting.

“I was hoping -uh can we talk?” He almost whispers.

“This is really not the place, Stiles.”

“Please, (Y/N).”

“Later.” I say, looking back out the front window. I hear Stiles hop out and Scott ask him what he wanted, but the door closed before I could hear his response. Stiles was reckless, but not stupid. He knew that telling Scott would ruin multiple relationships.

I quickly pushed my foot on the accelerator, hoping to be far away from my problems as soon as possible. 

“How was school?” I ask Scott as he hops in the car, Stiles trailing behind him.

“Let’s just say, I’m glad I’m actually getting to sit through classes without having to run off and save the town again.” He jokes and I smile. I’m genuinely happy for him. He’s had such a tough few years and to think that I could possibly cause him pain is eating me up inside. And not to mention that he could literally rip Stiles’ throat out. “What about you? How was work”

“Interesting. After finding out about you and your buddies, I’m starting to question everyone that comes through the facility.” I see Stiles physically flinch at the use of ‘buddies’. Once again, I’m teleported back to that night, two weeks ago.

“Wow, (Y/N). That was...”

“A mistake. I told myself I wasn’t going to let this happen again.” I sigh as I sit up on the side of Stiles’ bed.

“Woah, woah, woah. What do you mean?” 

“Stiles. You are such a sweet boy. But I can’t help but feel what I’m doing is immoral. I mean, not only are you still in High School, but you’re my younger brother’s best friend! What would Scott say?” I droop my head, feeling ashamed.

“No. (Y/N), please. You know it’s not like that. This isn’t some fling where I’m excited to be hooking up with an older chick. I really like you. Scott would be happy for us, I’m sure!”

“You and I both know thats a lie. Look, from now on this has to end. You’re just my younger brother’s friend.” 

“Oh, also, Stiles and I were gonna work on an assignment together so you can just drive us straight home. Sheriff Stilinski will pick him up after his shift at about 10.” Scott says nonchalantly. 

“Oh, okay. Mum won’t be back by dinner so I was thinking of making chilli cheese burritos. Is that okay with you boys?” I say, which obviously annoys Stiles.

“Sounds good with me. Stiles?” Scott replies.

“Yep. I’ve been craving something hot.” He says, knowing exactly the double entendre that came with the sentence. I choke on my spit and cough slightly, my heart beating through my chest.

“Can you just call out when dinners ready? We’ll be upstairs.” Scott says.

“Yeah, no worries. It’ll probably be around 6:30ish.”

“Sweet. Come on Stiles.” Scott says as he runs upstairs.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Just gotta pee.” He calls out, walking towards the bathroom. Finally, a moment to be left with my thoughts. I sit on the couch and close my eyes, wishing to be given some great answer from a divine deity that will solve all my problems. 

I really like Stiles, but I feel so uncomfortable admitting that, even to myself. Yes, he’s of legal age, but does that make it right? If it did end up working out with us, I’d want to be having kids when he’s only 21. Thats way too young to be a dad. God, why I am even thinking of that far down the track. He probably wouldn’t even make it that far. I’m sure Scott would gut Stiles if he ever found out he laid a finger on me let alone insi- okay. Thats enough of that.

“(Y/N)? Can we talk now.” Stiles asks. I turn to see his standing awkwardly beside me and I come my a consensus. 

“Stiles! Uh, yeah - lets make this quick. Have a seat.” I say as I pat next to me. “Look, I do really like you. I think you’re amazing and funny and great in bed. But, I just don’t see our lives matching up. And I understand you think this might be a good idea, but I don’t think I’m prepared to harm my relationship with Scott in any way possible. He’s already had to deal with so many people leaving him, how do you think he’d feel if the two closest people to him betrayed his trust?” 

“But what if he’s okay with it?” Stiles pleaded.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not prepared to find out.” I sighed, standing up. Stiles looks at a loss for words. His eyes grow glassy and he rubs his hand over his thigh to calm himself down. “I think I should finish up some work. I’ll grab you boys when dinner is ready.”

“Stop that.”

“What?” I furrow my brows together.

“Calling me a boy. I understand you’re scared, but stop blaming this on me. You might assume I’m not ready to be a man, but you’re wrong. Just because you’re scared, doesn’t mean I’ll stand by while you refer to me as a boy. Because I’ll tell you what. I’m much more of a man than any other guys you’ve dated. And now I’ve come to realise you aren’t scared about losing Scott. You’re scared about losing who you think you should be.” He says, steaming from the ears. Stiles suddenly stands and makes his way upstairs, leaving me standing in the living room in shock. 

Dinner felt like it went on for hours. There was little to no talk with the exception of Scott filling us in on the plan for next week’s lacrosse game against Green Hill. I couldn’t bring myself to eat much as I still felt sick from the conversation with Stiles. I came to realise, he was partly right. Although I am terrified of how Scott would feel, I’m also terrified of reliving the past 15 years over again. I don’t want my children to have to go through what I did; their father leaves, mother is barely around because she’s always working, and then the feeling of guilt always bears heavy on their shoulders. Although I am happy to be helping mum with paying off the mortgage and bills, I don’t want my kids to be subject to that. 

“Dad’s out the front. I’ll see you on Monday.” I hear Stiles say from upstairs. 

“Sweet, yeah I’ll see you then.” Scott replies as I hear his bedroom door close. I hear Stiles making his way down the stairs and inhale deeply. Now or never. 

“Stiles?” I call as I see him make his way straight past the dining room where I’m sat.

“Sorry, (Y/N). I’ll see you next time. Dad’s out the front.”

“I just wanted to say something...” I trailed off. I see the guard Stiles has put up in his reaction. He fight with himself, but ultimately decided to sit down at the table. 

“If this is abou-”

“I just wanted to say you were right.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“I mean that I’ve projected my issues onto you and thats not fair. I really am scared of hurting Scott though, which I know you are too. But I agree that I’ve been blaming you when really, I’m the one with the problems. I just-. I’m afraid of having another broken family.” I say, my voice cracking at the end of the sentence. 

“It’s okay to feel scared (Y/N). I’m scared! But I promise you, if everything works out with us, and we get the chance to have kids, I promise you on my life, I’ll be there to make sure they have the happiest, and most loving life you could hope for. I’d probably suffocate them with love if I’m being honest.” He laughs making me chuckle. 

“I’m not saying yes to this. But, I’m not saying no. I need to talk to Scott first.” I mutter out, already scared at the idea. Stiles beams back at me and I close my eyes inhaling deeply. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Tell Sheriff Stilinski I say hi, too for me will you?” I smile, changing the subject. 

“Of course. You know how upset he’d be if his favourite McCall forgot about him.” He chuckled, getting up from him chair. I stared back at him with a soft smile before he took me into his arms in a gentle but tight hug. “Everything will be okay.” he stepped back, a hand still on my arm. “I’ll see you soon then, I guess.” He said before making his way out of the house. 

Now for the hard part.

Hey Guys! Let me know if you want a part 2 for this. I haven’t planned anything out but I feel like theres still more to this story! Also, thanks for your continued support. It means a lot when I log on and see that every single day I’m still getting new readers and new followers even after not posting for a few months. You may not think a like or reblog means much, but it inspires me so much to keep writing for you guys, knowing I can help improve your day, however small! Xxx

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Looking out

Prompt: “Hey,” A says, sliding over on the bar stools to get B’s attention. “Don’t drink that. I think your date’s trying to drug you.”

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of possible drugging.

Dean X Reader

Dean didn't want to be here. He hated frat parties, he really did, piling a bunch of drunken college kids into the nearest college bar during rush season was the worst. He looked around, his whiskey glass half full in his hand. He preferred small groups, random nights with his buddies shooting pool or playing cards. 

He hated college bars. His frat was rushing, and so, he was stuck, stuck being here after having to be dragged by his best friend Nicky. The only thing that was keeping him here was her, Y/N.

She was sat a few tables down, with a guy he recognized from his house’s rival frat. Nicky had slept with his girlfriend last year and the guy along with his frat had hated them ever since. 

Todd slowly wrapped and arm around y/n, pulling her closer, she seemed to hesitate but didn't make a move to do anything about it. He knew she was single, and she was stunning, Dean would be lying if he said she didn't have him and every other guy on campus running crazy for her, but she wasn't easy, she didn't sleep around and she barely ever got white girl wasted unlike most of the girls in her fraternity. He admired her for it, it made her more attractive.

He'd spoken to her before, he was even paired up on a project with her in one class, he considered them friends, but he had a bit of a flirty reputation and he didn't want her thinking he saw her as another conquest so he kept his distance. 

He watched as they talked, he leaned in close whispering in her ear and Dean smirked at the grossed out look on her face that Todd didn't notice. Todd was a creep, he was gross and if the stories he heard had any truth, he feared a little for y/n. 

The bartender sat two new drinks in front of them and y/n mumbled something to him, Todd gave her a nod before both boys watched her walk to the ladies room. 

Dean looked back at Todd, one of his buddies coming up and patting him on the back, Todd have him a wink before subtlety grabbing something out of the other guys hand. Dean frowned, wondering if they were passing around drugs. He really hated frat parties. 

Before he knew what happened, Todd slipped y/n’s drink towards him, Dean couldn't tell what he was doing, he wasn't angled well enough to see, but he did notice him stir her drink before tossing away the stir stick. When he put her drink back, Dean didn't fail to notice it fizzle just a tad before it stopped.

You stared into the bathroom mirror, touching up your eyeliner, you really were dreading going back out there, the girls had gone off with their own eyes set on their targets and left you with Todd, you didn't think he was a horrible person, but he isn't your type, sitting with him all night had been a bore, all he talked about was the pranks they played on new pledges and drinking games they'd made up, plus you'd heard stories about him and weren't too keen on being another one night stand.

You sighed, you had noticed Dean earlier, he'd looked like he was as bored being here as you were, you half ass considered jumping into his Impala and having him take you out of here, at least you knew with Dean you'd be in for some fun, no matter what it was, plus you were friends, you knew he'd get you out of here if you really wanted him to.

You slowly made your way back to the bar, half hoping Todd would've found some other entertainment for the night and you'd be free to escape. Unlucky, that was not what happened. You sat back down in your seat, sending him a small smile while he shot you a wink. 

“Now it's my turn to empty the tank, be right back baby.” He stated, making his way towards the men's room, stopping to chit chat when a buddy of his stopped him. You were just happy for the few minutes of peace. 

You picked up your glass, ready to take a huge gulp of the only thing making this 'date’ bearable. Before you could though, Dean plopped himself into the seat previously occupied by shit for brains. 

“Hey.” He smiled widely, and suddenly your mood was uplifted. You smiled back at him, taking notice how much greener his eyes seemed in this dim lighting. 

“What do you want Winchester? I know you're not here just to talk. Getting lonely over on your side?” you teased him and he chuckled. 

“I hate frat parties, I don't like half these people, half the guys are losers who will do anything to get laid, and the girls well....they’re fun once in a while but after a while, you get bored of the same drunken girls and missionary sex with half the effort, or they end up barfing and you're stuck helping to get them home.” He shrugs, you practically choke out a laugh. “It’s too much work, I'm not a babysitter, if you can't handle your liquor, stay home.” He speaks and you chuckle. 

You nervously lift your glass again, needing a little more courage if you're going to have a conversation with Dean. Dean was one of the hottest boys in the frat house and all the girls knew it. So many of your own friends having tried it on with him, usually he didn't do much, it was very rare for him to have sex with them, most of the time, they'd fool around and he'd move on. The one positive about him was that at least he was clear about his intentions, unlike other jackasses in his frat. 

Just as you lifted your glass to your lips, Dean spoke, stopping you. 

“Don’t drink that, I think your dates trying to drug you.” He warned, and you stared at him with wide eyes before staring at your drink. You looked back at him before speaking. 

“How do you know?” you frowned and he shrugged, “I don't for sure, but when you stepped away he grabbed your drink and I caught him stirring it, when he put it back, it was fizzling, I don’t trust it.” He stated simply, you softly nodded before setting it down.

“Oh, well thank you, means a lot that you told me.” You smile, he smiled back, looking at you with a hint of longing. 

“Yeah well, I wouldn't want to see anything bad happen to you.” He shrugs, before you can say anything, Todd is back, clearing his throat. 

“Excuse me, you mind leaving my date alone. We're trying to enjoy our drinks.” Todd speaks, glaring at Dean. Dean stands, meeting him eye to eye, he's slightly taller than Todd, and from campus gossip, Dean wasn't someone easily fucked with. He was tough.

“Sure thing Todd, try not to drug her next one yeah?” Dean smirks and he begins to walk away but Todd grabs him, pulling him back. 

“The fuck you say to me, Winchester?” He asks, squinting at Dean. Dean rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and you can see the muscle he hides behind his flannels and leather jacket that's too big for his frame.

“Was I not clear enough” Dean sasses, before getting closer to his face. “Try. Not. To. Drug. Her. Next. Drink. Douchebag.” He smiles, “There, did you catch it that time?” He says sarcastically and the redness on Todd's face is comical.

“I didn't drug her drink, I don't do that!” Todd states furiously. He looks over at you and you shrug, “Baby don't listen to him, he's just jealous I got a date with you, everyone on campus knows one fuck Winchester has been dying to get in those panties since freshman year.” Todd laughs, Deans sarcastic smile disappearing and his face going blank, when his eyes meet Todd’s, it's clear he's angry. 

“Alright then, “ He speaks, he reaches over to the bar, grabbing your drink before handing it out to Todd. “If there's nothing in it, you won't mind drinking it yourself and giving her yours.” Dean shrugs, and Todd goes quiet, fidgeting before he gains his composure and speaks. 

“I don't like those fruity drinks, not my thing.” Todd smiles, winking over at you. You roll your eyes, before speaking. “Drink it, Todd. I'm not drinking that until you take the first sip, and make it a big one.” You raise an eyebrow, waiting. 

Todd never grabs it, instead, he huffs, running  a hand through his hair. “Fuck you, Winchester.” He snaps at Dean and Dean chuckles, “Nah, I don't swing that way, but thanks for the offer.” Dean winks and Todd runs off seething. 

Dean shakes his head, setting the drink back down, “Fucking twat.” He speaks, you chuckle before he looks back at you, smiling. 

“Sorry you had to deal with that.” You give him a small head shake, a silent signal not to worry, “It's not your fault, thanks for saving me.” You shrug and he nods before he gets up.

“I’m gonna head home, I think I've had enough entertainment for the night, enjoy your night, y/n.” He smiles, he begins to walk but you stop him.

“Hey Dean,” he stops and turns back to you, humming out, “Was what he said true?” you ask and he gives you a confused look. “About what?” he asks, barely having heard what he'd said to begin with. 

You get slightly shy, blushing slightly. “About uh, you know, wanting to get in my pants.” You ask, and he looks away, running a hand through his hair.

“Um, somewhat, not exactly.” He says honestly, half shrugging. You frown, giving him a confused look. 

“What do you mean somewhat?” You bite your lip, waiting for a response. 

He chuckles mostly to himself, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Well, he made it seem way more sexual, it's not like that. Some of the guys they uh, they know I've kinda been crushing on you since freshman year, but I never said anything about trying to get in your pants.” He states, a slight redness to his cheeks. 

You smile softly, “Oh, why didn't you say anything, or you know, ask me out?” You wonder, and he smirks, “I don't exactly have a great reputation, I figured you'd heard some stuff and wouldn't want to give me a chance, and I respect you too much to let people see us and think I just wanna get in your pants, you deserve better.” He shrugs and you smile widely. 

“Well, people can say and think what they want, I know you're a good guy, and if you wanted to ask me out, I'd be okay with that.” You shrug and his eyes light up. 

“really?” he asks and you nod. He softly laughs, “Well, in that case, would you like to get out of here, I know a good burger joint about 20 minutes away.” He raises a brow and you nod, “Hell yeah, let's go.” You grab your coat and purse before making your way towards the door. 

Just before they leave Dean turns to leave some cash on the counter for his drinks, and he catches Todd's eye, who's watching them enraged, Dean smiles, shooting him a wink before he turns back, walking out with y/n smiling widely at him.

[lemonadeswift]

Unconditional I

Rating: G

Pairing: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan

Characters: Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Original Child Character (OCC)

Summary: Chris and Sebastian’s foster child comes out to them as trans and of course, they love them unconditionally.

-

Mikey stood at the top of the stairs in their blue Tony Hawk hand me down hoodie that they’d had for years now. Their new socks were nice though, and so were their other new clothes but this sweat shirt was never going to go away. It was sometimes one of the only possessions they’d had going through the system. Nervously their toes wiggled inside their socks as they curled their feet over the top stair teetering as they debated their next move. It was now or never.

Their mom had probably had an inkling before she passed but she was gone now... and now they had to tell Chris and Sebastian... or “dad” and “tata” as they were slowly getting used to calling them. They’d assured them after their mother’s death and from day one they wouldn’t be transferred around anymore. This was their last stop on that train and their permanent home could be with them if that’s what they wanted. And Mikey did want that, he just hoped that after this new revelation Sebastian and Chris would still feel the same. They hoped that even if they didn’t want them anymore they’d still consider adopting Bailey. Mikey wanted his sister to have a good life, she was only 7, them being 15, they’d be fine on their own if they had to.

Anyway... it was now or never. They felt this bursting forth from them. They couldn’t keep it in anymore it was too stressful, it was killing them. They’d been up the past three nights and they knew that Chris and Sebastian were starting to notice.

“Dad? Tată?” Mikey called out in a voice just loud enough for Sebastian and Chris to hear. The two were sitting in the living room, they’d just put Luca, Lea, and Bailey down for bed and Mikey had just finished reading to them, leaving the couple to settle down for the night before turning in.

Mikey couldn’t help but smile as they noticed from the top of the stairs how the two were curled against each other. Chris on his tablet while Sebastian was resting his head on his shoulder, seemingly on his phone. They hated to disturb them but they needed to tell them this.

“Hey buddy, what’s up?” Chris asked, a soft smile on his burly winter bearded face.

“Hi... I’m... Um... can we... can we talk? Can I talk to both of you?” Mikey fidgeted with his hands wringing them together and teetering back and forth on their toes.

Chris’s face immediately turned concerned. His brows knitting together as he and Sebastian parted, sliding over to make room for Mikey beside them if they wanted to sit.

“Yeah, of course, always, you can come to us with anything, is something wrong? Do we need to break out the hot chocolate for this one?”

Hot chocolate had become a tradition with tough conversations in the household. It was brought out a few months ago when their mom passed, and again when they were told that they couldn’t be adopted yet, and yet another time when they were discussing a career move that would require Sebastian to be gone for four months that he wanted to get the kids input on. He hadn’t taken it. It had been too soon, but while hot chocolate was synonymous with difficult conversation it was also synonymous with comfort and warmth and safety. Tough conversations were no longer callous encounters, with Chris and Sebastian tough conversations were always had in an environment that was carefully curated to also feel safe and full of love and support. If this conversation didn’t go the way Mikey wanted they didn’t want the memory of hot chocolate to be ruined forever so they declined.

“N-no... I think... I think I’d rather just talk.” Rather than sitting down between the two Mikey nervously backed up against the accent chair in the living room and sat down lightly on the arm, perching carefully as they continued to fidget.

Mikey took a deep breath unsure of how to come out with it. Right now their palms were sweaty and their heart was pounding against their ribs. They felt clammy and sick... but they had to,

“Hey, Mikey, buddy, we love you, you’re safe here and you can tell us anything, we promise...” Sebastian spoke up, his eyes earnest.

Mikey wanted to cry.

“I-I-I-I’m... I... I think I’m trans?” It came out as a question, it made them mad that it did, what were they doing? Asking permission? No. They knew, they were sure, had been for a long time so what was with the questioning. Mikey shook their head,

“No, no... Sorry...” Mikey sat up straight a look of determination in their eyes as they met both Chris and Sebastian’s gazes. “I know I’m trans...my name is Melody because that’s the name my mom wanted to name me if I’d been a girl, which I am. My pronounce are she/her/they and if you don’t like it I’ll leave and figure things out myself.”

Melody stood there with a firm stance. Her eyes hard and arms crossed as she glared daggers into Chris and Sebastian who hadn’t said anything yet. Chris was the first to speak, his voice was soft as he said,

“Come, sit,” and patted the seat beside him. Deflating almost immediately Melody came and sat next to him. Her guard was still up but her firm stance from earlier and hard exterior had crumbled again. Now she was just scared. Scared and terrified. Melody felt an arm slide around her shoulders and she tensed up, softly though, Chris’s voice reached her ears,

“Melody, honey, we love you... no matter who you are, or how you identify... if your name is Melody and you’re a girl who goes by she/her/they, then that’s who you are and that’s what we will refer to you as, we’re both bisexual men, and you know my brother, your Uncle Scott, is gay. We couldn’t possibly be bothered less about if you’re trans. We love you,”

Melody felt herself shaking and as she blinked she felt the tears on her cheeks she was crying.

“Aw, sweetie, come here,” Sebastian’s said, pulling her into him and resting his head on top of hers as he hushed her and stroked her back, she clung to him and cried tears of sheer relief. Yes, she’d known they were obviously bisexual and she’d remembered that Scott was gay, but she never had heard them speak of any trans person they knew aside from one actress that Chris had worked with. And then it was just in passing. So she didn’t know, she hadn’t been 100% sure and that slight uncertainty had been killing her. She was so happy she was right about them though. So happy that they didn’t care...

“Hey, it’s okay, I promise we love you, we support you, you don’t need to get upset, you don’t need to cry, you’re okay, you’re safe, and if anyone, anyone has anything to say about it, they can fuck right off,” Melody pulled away from Sebastian at Chris’s assurances. She let out a wet chuckle at his last comment before throwing herself at him too,

“Thank you...” she said, another sob escaping her throat, one of absolute relief.

“You don’t have to thank us, we should be thanking you... thank you for telling us, we love you, I’m going to warn you, I might slip up a few times and I’ll have to get used to the new name and pronouns but we love you, okay?”

“Same here, it’ll be a change, but not a bad one,”

Melody wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie suddenly feeling completely drained. It was late after all and this had taken up all of her strength.

“Why don’t we talk more about this tomorrow okay? It’s late, we can look into getting you new clothes if that’s something you want and we can research some doctors if medically transitioning is something you’re interested in starting soon too okay? But in the morning, I’m sure this took a lot to tell us, but we love you and things will stay the same in most ways and change in only good ones I promise, okay?” Melody nodded. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was one thing to just accept it and accept her but the offer for clothes and to look into a doctor... it showed they were really serious, and were already somewhat educated... she couldn’t be happier.

Melody stood from the couch and let out one last sniffle. With her jacket over her hands giving her sweater paws she stood in front of them and gave a little wave. “Okay, goodnight...”

“Goodnight, we’ll see you in the morning, we love you,”

Melody nodded, she hadn’t told them she loved them yet but her heart was swelling with affection and emotion for them and as she turned to go and got to the stairs she stopped,

“I-I love you guys too...” she finally said. Their heads snapped over to her immediately and they were standing, stumbling over one and other as they came towards her. She was slightly surprised.

“What? I’m sorry... did you say?” Sebastian’s eyes were wide with hope,

“I-I love you guys too... I do... I love you guys, dad, I love you... tată, I love you...”

“Oh my god... Mik-Melody oh... we love you, we love you too!” Chris was sweeping her up into his arms again, lifting her off the ground and making her laugh. He spun her around once before putting her down, his eyes were shining with tears as he choked out, “You mean it? For real? You’ve... you’ve never said that... you haven’t said that yet...”

Melody just nodded, “Yeah, I mean it... I already have started seeing you as my dads... I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to say it. But I do, I love you guys and I’m... I’m so thankful that I ended up here...”

Sebastian was openly crying too now as he wrapped her in a bear hug of his own, he gave her a tight squeeze, “I’m so thankful that you guys ended up here too, you fit perfectly into this family and we want to have you guys as part of it forever. I swear, we’re working on it. I know things haven’t been easy but I’m so happy you’re here and I’m so happy to be your dad...”

Chris joined the hug and they stood there at the foot of the stairs, smothering Melody with love until she finally began to actually feel smothered and spoke up,

“I love you guys, but it’s actually getting hard to breathe, I’m pretty small and you guys are pretty aggressive huggers...”

“Oh.. sorry,” Chris laughed as they broke the hug and he went to stand by Sebastian again, the two of them gravitated to each other and their hands magnetically connected with parts of each other’s bodies, around the waist and in each other’s pockets as they always did when they got close. They both smiled and watched as Melody made her way the rest of the way up the stairs and disappeared down the hall.

Chris turned to Sebastian, letting out a sigh and giving a shrug,

“Well, that all happened.” He commented.

“It did, didn’t it? I’m so proud of her...” Sebastian said.

“Me too,” Chris said.

“So, we have two daughters now, maybe three soon,”

“Guess so, good thing I had sisters,” Chris said.

“Yeah, we can do this,”

“Of course we can, together, we can get through everything. We’ve already been through a lot, this is nothing we can’t handle. We’ve just gotta be supportive and love her unconditionally...” Sebastian leaned up to press a soft kiss on his husbands lips.

“Let’s go to bed, we’ve got some more important conversations to have tomorrow.”

[yourfriendslimey]

hi!! can i request a got7 reaction when their s/o is working under the law enforcement?? (maybe an undercover agent/police officer/lawyer???)

of course you can luv! i hope you like it!

GOT7 REACTION TO THEIR S/O BEING A POLICE OFFICER

i decided to just pick one occupation because i ad different thoughts for all three, so for now we'll go with officer! if you want one of the other two, feel free to ask!

(also i'm taking this as if you're already an officer!)

Jaebeom- Jaebeom possesses a natural curiousity that he feeds through novels and now, through your work stories. He is absolutely enamored by the policing world, bombarding you with questions every chance he gets. when you speak, his eyes light up and all his attention goes to you. is he worried about you being on the field? hell no! he's so sure of you, being worried rarely crosses his mind, (as long as you come home without a scratch).

"Hey honey, how was your day? Anything crazy happen? Car chase? Robbery?! Let's cuddle and you can tell me all about it!"

Mark- Mark loves you and believes in you fully. although he would prefer you have a safer job, he quickly accepted that that's just not you. if being an officer of the law is what you love, then keep it up. he'll be proud of you no matter what, and push you to follow your passions. he would never want to hold you back, even if it means he bites his nails a little when you tell him about even a routine traffic stop.

"I'm so proud of you and as long as you're happy i'm over the moon. but you better keep coming home in one piece."

Jinyoung- It's not that Jinyoung doesn't care, it's that he knows for certain you can carry yourself just fine. he knows that like him, you're strong and capable and he encourages you to do your best. He's proud to have such a strong s/o who believes in upholding justice! that doesn't mean he doesn't worry, however! as tough as you might be, when he knows you're out on the field he's on edge up until you're back safe at home with him.

"If you keep working this hard then one day you'll be Captain; Cheif even!"

Jackson-if i said worry-wart would you believe me? Jackson isn't gonna tell you what to do, but he will be VERY vocal about how nervous he gets. Every time you walk through the door he'd hold you and shower you in kisses, asking you about how your day was. if you mentioned anything even remotely dangerous, he'd hold you so tight you'd be certain he'd suffocate you. he'd keep saying how much he loves you, urging you to keep safe out there.

"Please be careful, I can't afford to lose you. I swear, I'd burn down the whole city if something happened to you."

Youngjae- Younjae is a big ol' softy who would 100% be THE MOST worried about you as an officer. once he found out your occupation, his first reaction would be to laugh, hoping you were joking. but when he found out you were serious, he'd pry, asking if you're a field officer or maybe a traffic cop (secretly hoping for the latter). though he would support you, he'd be so worried about you every time you went into work.

"That great, babe! Uh...maybe you could see about doing only daytime patrols in good neighborhoods?"

Bambam- Bambam thinks authority is sexy. that's the post. lol JK, here it is:

who's a cheerleader?! BAMBAM! he's behind you no matter what, and your occupation (no matter how dangerous it can get) is no exception. He'd brag to all his friends about how youre the biggest toughest person around. how youre so upstanding, responsible, and strong! how you totally go all batman and rid the streets of evildoers! oh and you can 100% beat up his friends. (this could double for Jackson but I think he's a bit more mature)

"My baby kicks ass! They're basically a superhero, but better!"

Yugyeom- Baby is delicate no matter how tough he acts. Yugyeom (secretly) loves having a strong s/o he can feel safe with. it's nice to be the one being protected for once so Yug's all for that, even if he still tries to act like YOU'RE the one who needs protecting to to save his own ego. He also possesses such a strong respect for you, praising you every chance he gets.

"You're so strong baby! But if you ever need a buddy cop to watch your back, you know who to call!"

[zwritestuff]

Crossing All The Lines (YueKi) - One-shot

A/N: I'm trying to dip my toes in the atla fandom, and I saw that it's yueki week! I wanted to contribute with the cause, so here's a fic combining today's prompts: modern au + song fic. The fic is loosely inspired by Girls like Girls, by Hayley Kiyoko, because i was obssesed with that song wayyyy before I came out as a lesbian. Hope yall like it! Pls do tell me if they feel ooc, I'm still quite new to writing atla. ( @yuekiweek )

Summary: Yue and Suki have been best friends since they were four, and over the years, they chose each other over everyone all over again. 

[Also on AO3!]

***

For as long as they can remember, Suki and Yue have been best friends. They met through Sokka, Yue’s neighbor and son of one of her dad’s friends, when they were just four years old. 

Suki was Sokka’s play-buddy thanks to their mothers, and one day, while they were having one of their usual playdates during the weekend, Arnook came knocking at the door, asking in a very hurried manner if they could watch over Yue while he went to the hospital. Kaya hadn’t asked, but she knew it had to do with Yue’s mother, so she rushed her into the living room where Sokka and Suki were playing.

“Suki, this is Yue, my best friend!” Sokka had said, excitedly waving his arms around and pulling Yue in for a hug. Yue, shy as she always was, had blushed before muttering a “nice to meet you.”

Suki, on the other hand, had stuck up her nose, folded her arms and pouted. “I thought I was your best friend!” She said, indignantly, and Sokka hurried to clarify that she was also her best friend. Suki laughed after a second, saying it was a joke, and greeted Yue with another hug. “Do you wanna play with my dolls? They’re warriors! Just like Kyoshi, you know Kyoshi? I never miss an episode of the Kyoshi Adventures!”

Yue nodded, not talking much at first, but once Suki started to tell her about the intricate plans the evil man, represented by Sokka’s action figure, had to take down the Kyoshi warriors, Yue became a lot more talkative, voicing her concerns for the dolls’ wellbeing.

Sokka complained about being left out, because playing with dolls was “a girls thing”, but ended up participating in their games when Suki offered him to do the voice of the hero that battles with the Kyoshi warriors.

And just like that, they became inseparable.

Their friend group had a few additions over the years, and of course they appreciated Aang’s dumb jokes that only made Katara laugh, Katara’s constant invitation to her swimming competitions, Toph’s tough love, and Zuko’s theater kid antics; but Yue and Suki always chose each other, no matter what the situation was. 

Then they hit their teenage years, and Sokka asks Yue out on a date on a sunny day of Spring. Like a real date. A romantic one.

Yue says yes, and almost immediately after she crashes at Suki’s house and tells her about it. There’s silence for a long second, before Suki speaks.

“I mean, that’s great! But…”

“But?” Yue looks at her expectantly, leaning in ever so slightly.

They’re in Suki’s room, sitting under the window, and it’s starting to be warm enough for the heat to be just a notch unbearable. Or so Yue thinks.

Suki looks at her with a doubtful gaze. “Do you like Sokka? Or did you, y’know, just say yes to not make things awkward,” she asks softly, letting her hand fall on top of Yue’s.

That’s a question Yue wasn’t expecting, certainly; she thinks Sokka is cute, as everyone does, and she’s fond of him in many ways she can’t express with words, and she knows she loves him as a brother—but she hasn’t considered liking him in a romantic way until he asked her out.

So she just shrugs, “I don’t know,” she merely replies, and Suki cocks a brow, asking what she means. Yue shrugs again. “I think I could grow to like him.”

“But you don’t like him, now.” Is more of a statement than a question, but Suki adds the vocal fry nonetheless.

“Not in the way he wants me to, yet,” Yue insists, coming off a little too defensive.

There's an awkward silence hanging for a second too long, and Suki gives Yue's hand a squeeze.

“Just-- just don't hurt him, or yourself, okay?” Suki says, tentatively, carefully. And the emotion in her eyes is one Yue can't quite put a finger on.

Either way, Yue presses her forehead on Suki's shoulder, and brings her hand to her lips, leaving a soft kiss.

“I promise, Su.” 

Suki looks away, and if Yue didn't know better, she'd say her cheeks have a slight pink color. Before she gets a wrong idea ingrained in her brain, she resolves that it’s just the heat.

 ***

 Yue goes on a date with Sokka, and then another one, and another one, and who knows how many dates have they gone on when he finally asks her to be his girlfriend? Not Yue, certainly.

But Suki seems to be counting pretty closely.

“Do you think is it too soon? I mean, it hasn’t been that long,” Yue wonders aloud, laying in her bed with her head hanging upside down from the border.

“Well, it’s been three months, and you’ve been going out like three times a week—I’d say it’s fair enough,” she replies, doing her stretches before she leaves for her Karate class. 

Yue looks at her, surprised. “I didn’t know you were keeping count,” she comments, straightening up her position.

Suki once again evades her gaze, “I’m not.”

“Then why—”

“I gotta go,” Suki cuts her off, suddenly grabbing her backpack. “My mom can’t drive me, I gotta walk, I’ll text you when I’m off.” She walks up to the door, and is about to leave when she turns around, giving Yue one last look. “For what’s worth, I think you made a good decision. You and Sokka seem really happy together.”

Suki leaves the room before Yue can tell her about the awkwardness that pools in her stomach whenever she’s alone with Sokka, the unease she feels when he tries to touch her beyond holding hands, the relief she feels when they have to cancel a date; she knows these aren’t common feelings when you like someone.

She wants to believe there will be a point where she’s comfortable, that maybe her feelings are contradictory because it’s Sokka, her childhood best friend, her soul-brother.

But if that were the case, why does she crave Suki’s touch? Why does she prefer it when they’re by themselves? Why does she feel her heart skip a beat whenever Suki proposes they hang out?

Yue groans. Feelings are too confusing.

 ***

 Sokka and Yue have been a couple for a month when Sokka’s birthday comes around, and like every year he throws a party. 

Well, ‘party’ is too generous—it’s just a get-together with their close friends, food, and music a tad louder than he’s usually allowed to. Sokka insists they all have to be dressed to the nines, because it’s his eighteenth birthday and he’s now a “man.” Suki, Katara and Toph tell him, almost at the same time and with a playful eye-roll, that being eighteen doesn’t make him any less dumb.

“Why can’t you all be nice to me on my own birthday?” He complains, pulling Yue closer to him as she laughs softly, “My girlfriend is ten times better than all of you!”

Suki notices how Yue stiffens ever so slightly before easing into his embrace, albeit reluctantly. She doesn’t say anything, why would she?

So she just sits back and watches.

But the thing is, Suki knows Yue like the back of her hand, and there’s no way she doesn’t pick up on the way she leans away from Sokka whenever she gets the chance, and the smile that doesn’t reach her eyes whenever Sokka tells her he loves her.

Suki just sips on her drink, and when they disappear for what feels like forever and come back looking relieved, she doesn’t say anything. 

Not even when Yue curls up against her side for the rest of the night, and Sokka doesn’t try  to reach for her anymore.

 ***

 The next morning, when Suki goes to visit Yue, the first thing she tells her is that she broke up with Sokka last night. Suki just stares at her, wide-eyed, but it’s not like she didn’t see it coming.

“What? Why?” She asks, baffled, and Yue just shrugs.

“It wasn’t working out,” she says, flatly, like it doesn’t need much explanation. Yue cocks an accusatory brow, poking Suki’s ribs. “Don’t act like you couldn’t tell, Su,” Yue continues, moving closer to Suki. She tucks her legs under her body as Suki scrambles to find an answer in time. 

“But-- Sokka,” it’s the first thing she says, “he really likes you, and everything seemed well yesterday. What went wrong?” Suki frowns, visibly confused, but she can’t say she’s all that sad about their friends’ relationship ending, not really.

Of course, she loves Sokka like any other of his friends, and she’s already making a mental note to check on him once she leaves Yue’s house—but she can’t say she didn’t wish once or twice that Yue would stop forcing herself to like Sokka, to stop recoiling when he tried to touch her and pretend it was all fine. 

And she can’t say she didn’t wish for Yue to like her back ever since they were fourteen.

Yue gives a long sigh before speaking, letting her head fall against the back of the sofa. “Sokka’s great, don’t get me wrong. He was a good boyfriend, best I’ve ever had, actually,” she says with a teasing tone, and Suki gives a dry laugh. She never had any other boyfriend, but whatever. Yue stares into Suki’s eyes, a feeling she can’t quite put a finger on shining in them, and Suki stops breathing for a second when she reaches for her hand. “But he wasn’t you.”

Suki could swear she feels her heart ringing in her ears. She blinks repeatedly, before she actually processes what she just said.

And she laughs awkwardly, because she’s sure her ears are deceiving her, that Yue’s just pranking her and what she said doesn’t actually mean what Suki wants it to mean. But when Yue doesn’t laugh along, Suki blushes furiously.

“Suki,” Yue goes on, giving Suki’s hand a slight squeeze. “Sokka and I ended things because he knew that, while I loved him platonically, he would never be able to compete with--with what I feel for you.” Her voice is soft and low, filled with sweetness and adoration.

Suki licks her lips, sucking in a sharp breath as her heart aches with fondness.

“Did you have to break up with him on his birthday, though?” Suki inquires, a shit eating grin taking over her face. Yue scrunches up her nose, nestling against Suki’s chest, hiding her face.

“Don’t remind me!” She screeches with embarrassment, “I wish it could’ve been later, but Sokka was getting suspicious, and it really didn’t help that you and I are attached at the hip. He said he knew, in some way, but he wanted to give it a try instead of regretting having never tried it.” Yue shrugs, fidgeting with her hair, and Suki chuckles. Yeah, that sounds like Sokka.

There’s an awkward silence hanging for a little too long, heavy with lingering words and stolen glances, until Suki breaks it. 

“So, I think this is the moment where I ask you out on a date, isn’t it?” She tentatively says, and the smile Yue gives her in return makes her heart speed up.

Yue doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even give her as much of a nod when she closes the space between them in a kiss. Suki sigh happily against her lips, thinking that she’s been waiting for this for a long time.

[gallagherwitt]

Hey, writer folks, let's talk editing for a minute.

Lately I've seen some posts by a number of writers concerned about the editing process. In particular, what happens when your editor starts trampling your voice? Or when they start changing things that are clearly a matter of taste, not structural or grammatical issues? Or when their comments are rude or condescending? Or when you don't even recognize your own book anymore, and not in a good way?

Basically, what happens when you get your manuscript back from your editor, and you get that sick feeling in your stomach like "This is ruined"?

First, right off the bat, without even getting into whether the editor is right or wrong, it's a perfectly natural and acceptable reaction when you have some hardcore edits that involve massive revisions. This is especially true early in your career, but trust me, it doesn't magically go away. It's tough on the ego to see that manuscript you worked so hard on come back slathered in red. It's demoralizing. And it's okay if you feel that way!

You know what I do when I get a set of edits? I go through it one time and let my inner toddler go nuts. I mentally flail and push back and holler and roll my eyes and "oh my GOD that is BULLSHIT" and I eat a cookie. Then I put the manuscript aside. The next day, I take a deep breath and go through it again, and more often than not -- especially now that I'm mostly indie and I hire editors who I mesh with -- the comments and changes aren't so bad after all. So I 100% give you permission to do that if getting it out of your system helps.

THAT BEING SAID.

The inner toddler isn't always wrong. When I read through it the second time, if my eyebrows keep climbing until they touch my hairline, it's possible that something is amiss here besides my ego needing a nap.

So what happens when you and your editor disagree? How do you know if the problem is the editor or the manuscript? And how do you handle it? Well, that can be tough, and the answer usually comes down to communication.

But let me say this upfront: it's not just you. After 11 years in print, I'm creeping up on 200 titles in my catalogue. I have, shall we say, extensive experience with editors, and it hasn't always been good.

With one publisher, I had to hire a copy editor on my own to go through and undo all the errors *their* copy editor inserted, not to mention fix all the ones they'd missed.  That's a pretty objective problem.  If your editor is missing mistakes or ADDING mistakes, then you need a new editor. Period. Do NOT be afraid to go to your senior editor (or your agent), tell them what the problem is, and request someone new. If the problem isn't resolved or you're told "this editor does a perfectly good job," then consider that a sign that you and the publisher have differing standards on quality. You might have to grit your teeth through the process on your currently contracted book(s) (that's why I hired an outside editor for mine), but consider not submitting to that publisher in the future. If you're an indie author who hired your own editor, you can fortunately choose not to use them again.

Sometimes it's a personality clash or a difference in taste or style. Maybe the editor's method of communicating rubs you the wrong way. I had an editor who thought that since I'm fairly sarcastic with a dry sense of humor most of the time, that would be an effective way of communicating via comments in a manuscript.

Spoiler: it was not. I have a thick skin when it comes to writing, but if I feel like my editor is making fun of me, talking down to me, or yelling at me, I shut down. I can't work like that. Solution: ask the editor to do things differently or ask for another editor. DO NOT grin and bear it if your editor is communicating in a way that's hurtful or counterproductive. You're equal partners here, and you have a right to be treated with respect. It's okay to say so if you feel that's not happening.

I also had an editor who did line edits by making the change they wanted to see rather than putting in a comment about how and why they thought it should change. I really liked that because in comparing my original to the tracked change, I could see what they were getting at, and even if I didn't accept their change in its entirety, it was a good way to communicate the issue to me. For us, it worked really well.

But that approach had the opposite effect on another author, who felt like the editor was stomping on their voice and just changing things willy nilly.  Neither of us was wrong, it was just different people responding to different means of communication. In that instance, simply approach the editor, explain why you would prefer they made comments instead of changes, and see what happens. If they're willing to do so, great! If not, you and the editor might not be compatible. That doesn't make you a diva or them a bad editor, it just means you're not a good match. That's okay!

Also, if they've made a suggestion or recommended a change, and you disagree with it or don't understand it, sometimes just typing out your concerns in an email or a reply to their comment can resolve it. I can't tell you how many times I've been in the middle of explaining to an editor why I wanted to keep something the way it was, and I talked myself right into a solution to their comment that I was happy with. The solution wasn't always what they'd initially recommended, but the result was that the problem they'd pointed out was fixed.

Which is another thing to keep in mind: if your editor suggests you do X to fix a problem, but you don't like X, think about WHY they want you to do it. What is X fixing? One of my editors told me "There isn't enough tension in this scene, so I recommend cutting it by 10% to tighten it up." I tried. Lord, I tried. But there was no way I could cut anything without losing vital information. So I revisited the comment. The problem wasn't that it needed to lose 10%. The problem was there wasn't enough tension. In the end, I ratcheted up the tension....by *adding* 10%.

So sometimes it's just a matter of stepping back and asking yourself, is this editor stomping all over your voice and tearing apart your work in a way you disagree with? Or is it a difference in communication style? Are they trying to hijack my book? Or does their suggestion illustrate a problem which I can fix in a way that is more satisfying to me and more in line with my story?

Also, a lot of writers have come of age hearing that you toe the line and do what your editor tells you to, or else you'll get blacklisted for being difficult. And to some extent, sure, you CAN cultivate a reputation for being an unreasonable diva, but there is an enormous gap between diva status and being a professional asking to be treated accordingly. If you feel your editor is being rude or they're hurting your story, say so. If you think there's a lapse in communication somewhere, say so.

If you don't understand something, ask. When my current editor makes suggestions for significant changes, it's not unusual at all for me to email her first and say "I'm thinking of doing X, Y, and Z to fix A, B, and C. What do you think?" Or "You suggested A, B, and C, but I think if I do X, Y, and Z it'll work better because... What do you think?" And we'll go back and forth a little before I ever touch the manuscript. It works beautifully, and I'm always confident going into the edits that I understand what the issues are and how to fix them. You're not alone when you're editing! Your editor is there to help you and to work with you, and if they won't do that, they're not doing their job!

Seeing a pattern here? Communication is crucial. If you aren't comfortable with something, or you don't understand something, or the way the editor is communicating isn't working for you, it's okay to speak up. It goes without saying that you need to be professional about it, but don't buy into the idea that for authors, "being professional" means gritting your teeth and taking whatever your editor shells out.

And yes, if you absolutely cannot work with an editor -- if just thinking about looking at that manuscript spikes your anxiety like a tornado siren just went off because the comments are rude, the changes are uncalled for, or something is just OFF -- it is acceptable to say "This author-editor relationship isn't working for me."

Yes, you can break up with your editor.

Obviously that's easiest for indie authors. We just...don't hire that editor again. With publishers, it's a little more complicated, but it CAN be done!

In just over a decade, there has been one occasion where I stopped midway through the edits, emailed the senior editor, and said "I'm not working with this person anymore. I want a new editor." This came after a round of edits left me so emotionally wrung out and beaten down that I was literally in tears over it, and if you know me, you know that says A LOT. The first draft of my email basically said "You know what? This book is obviously garbage. Let's just cancel it." I felt that bad about the whole thing. But after talking to some industry friends, I pulled myself together, realized the book was not the problem, and I sent a firmly-worded but still professional email to my senior editor.

You know what happened? I got a new editor. We scrapped the existing edits, started over, and it was like night and day. The edits were still intense, but they were reasonable, and instead of feeling like I was being told to nuke the book from orbit and start over, I felt like I was course correcting. In the end, readers loved the book, and I continued working with that editor for a long time because we meshed so flawlessly.

If you find yourself in a situation like this, and you're not sure if it's just you, run it by some trusted writer buddies. Ask some long-published veteran authors. It's okay to say "Something about this doesn't feel right -- what do you think?"

Don't suffer in silence! Get feedback from a third party. Talk to your editor. Talk to your senior editor or your agent if you have them. It could be just a simple miscommunication. It could be that you and this editor aren't compatible. But if no one knows you're struggling, they can't help.

And honestly, if there's one thing I've learned in working with literally dozens of editors over the years, it's that most of them genuinely do want you to succeed, and they want you to be happy with your book. If they do, they'll also meet you in the middle and try to make the whole process work for both of you. If they don't, well, then that's somebody you probably don't want to work with again if you can help it.

To recap:

Talk to your editor if you have concerns or if something isn't working.

Talk to your senior editor or agent (if you have them) if you think a new editor would be the best solution.

If you're truly unhappy with an editor, you might be stuck with them for the duration of one book or series, depending on your contract, but beyond contractual obligations, it's okay to choose not to work with them again. (And if it's really not a good situation, push for a different editor.)

 If an author and editor disagree, the author is not wrong by default. Neither is the editor.

Communicate, communicate, communicate.

Remember that you are colleagues, and you should expect to be treated accordingly.

Sometimes calmly explaining to your editor why you disagree with or don't understand their comment can lead your thought process right to the solution.

It's YOUR book. In the end, YOU should be happy with it. Your editor should be on your side.

 You are not obligated to correct a problem in the manner your editor suggested. Most problems have multiple possible solutions!

It's totally okay to email your editor and ask for clarification, bounce ideas off them for solutions, etc.

So go forth and bravely tackle those edits, but communicate like whoa and trust your gut if something doesn't feel right!

[oingo233]

By The Lake*Chapter Seven

Summary:  A family friend offers you a place to stay to get away from an abusive past.  Her home is a place that you are familiar with, an old town with a large lake you spent many days in. You went there years ago for one full summer, where you became close friends with a very young Daryl Dixon.  You two were inseparable until you had to leave.  But now you’re back, escaping from a past much like his.  You will need to weave your way through the town’s problematic people, your own problems, and above all the confusing Dixon.  Will you two find your way back to each other again?  Or will he push you further away?  And above all, will your past cease to haunt you?

MasterList

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence(potential triggers), cussing, more mature themes(not smut or anything tho), slow burn romance, described wounds and injuries

Authors note:  I don’t own the character Daryl Dixon, he belongs to the creators of The Walking Dead.  This fic talks about abuse, and the terrible reality involved to spread awareness about the matter, not to romanticize it. Also, I was writing the last couple of paragraphs with a horrible sense of deja vu because I could have sworn I wrote it already, and then I realized that I have but tumblr didn’t save it, so I wrote the end with immense caution and fear in case my wifi cut out again. But it’s okay because both endings have sticky sweet fluff!                        

Word Count: 2.2k

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It was the dreaded dinner of the century.  Cherry’s words lingered in the back of my mind like an all consuming fog.  “We have to talk...dinner?”.  And her face, god, her face was so sad.  Was I disappointing her? Do the kids not like me? I glance to Daryl who looks just as nervous beside me.  Does she know?  Daryl catches me looking, and he glances over my expression, his own frown forming.

“Don’t stress ya’self out too bad, huh?  We’ve gotten in trouble a plenty times before.”  He adds with a wink, I roll my eyes, grateful for the smile he brought out of me.  He shifts the angel cake to one hand and knocks on the door with the other.  Cherry answers with an uneasy smile, that turns into a slack jaw as she sees Daryl.

“Daryl?”  I think she meant it as an excited hello, but it came out more as a threatening question to me.  That is probably because I forced him to come with me as a buddy for the night.  If Cherry’s going to tell me off for Daryl, then he should be here too.  Or if Cherry wants to kick me out, I’m going to need emotional support in the form of a redneck, tough love friend.  Daryl’s the best option.

“Daryl, are ya alright?”  She goes to touch his face, not knowing it’s the best of his wounds.  His long sleeve shirt and jeans covered everything else.  He flinches back slightly but she didn’t back off.  Daryls breathing picked up as she traced the bruises and cuts.  I restrain myself from pushing her hand back as Daryl takes a slight shift back and gives her a stiff nod of his head, mumbling something about roughhousing with friends.

“M’sorry for just showin’ up.  Thought Mark would’ve liked to talk about our day tomorrow.  Cars almost done.”  He offers a small smile which she returns, though she gave me the stink eye.  God bless his soul for covering for me like that, but everyone knows he’s here cause I asked him.  At the mention of his name, and apparent super hearing, Mark pops up behind Cherry.  His smile the widest out of all of ours.

“Daryl!  What a good surprise!  That cars almost done ya know.  Come in, come in.”  He ushers everyone inside and Daryl hands over the angel cake.  Cherry sets in on the table further inside, glancing behind her shoulder to make sure I was following.  Which I was, I was following her like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs.

“(Y/N)!  What the hell?  Daryl comes around looking like he got bulldozed.  Is everything alright?  Did he really come here to talk about cars?”  She looked stressed out, bags under her lightly mascaraed eyes, deep enough that no amount of coverage could hide it.  Her hair was fizzy, and for the first time I’ve seen it, unkept.  Does this have to do with her news?  Could I really lie to her in her state?

“I’m sorry Cherry, I just-it’s just that-”  My voice came out more strained than I meant, a familiar burn in my eyes start to work up.  “I can’t tell you all of it alright?  But things are bad, I just don’t know what else to do.”  She steps forward and raises her hand, I nearly jump out of my shoes, but she just rests her palm on my cheek and wipes away a tear.  I don’t tell her about Daryl’s truth, it isn’t mine to tell.  I don’t tell her about him staying with me, although she should probably know.  I don’t tell her about the crushing weight of it all, or that I feel like I’m betraying her.  But I don’t have to.  She saw it, and now she is the one comforting me.  She rest her forehead against mine and nods softly.

“Lets just breath darling.  I’m not going to punish you for anything.  I just want to know if you’re doing what you think is right?  That’s enough for me.”  I take a few breaths in until they run steady.  

“I am doing what I think is best.  Whats right.”  I whisper out, drained from the past couple days.

“You always do, doll.” She kisses my forehead. “Now, lets eat!”  She cheers, pulling back and quickly wiping her own tears.  

“Wait-”  I pull her back to me, quietly over the sounds of the family and Daryl rushing into the kitchen to eat I ask her.  “What was the news you wanted to tell me about?”  She doesn’t say anything, only gives me a small smile.

“Later.”  she says with a shrug, masking her true emotions.  Mark was near and pulled her aside when he heard this.  I meant to give them privacy but it was too late, my curiosity got the better of me.  

“Cherry, are you sure we should wait to tell her?” I’ve never heard him so serious in my life.

“I’m sure, they’re just kids.  We should let them be that for a while-”  The rest of her sentence was forgotten because Daryl scared the shit out of me.

“Curiosity killed the cat ya know?”  He scoffs out behind me, obviously not proud of my behavior.  I give him a sheepish smile.

“But satisfaction brought it back.”  I point my finger at him making him roll his eyes.  He guided me away from snooping on the married grown ups, and to the dinner table.  When walking to his seat, Daryl casually snatched Rosie’s napkin, and dropped it on her lap for her.  This made Rosie giggle, so when Daryl sat down she took his napkin and put it on his lap. We all laughed at Daryl’s surprised expression, it held a softness I haven’t seen before.  He laughs with us and says a quite thank you to her.  

Cherry and Mark came and sat down minutes later, both giving each other mean looks.  They obviously had a heated conversation.  But as dinner went on everyone was happy.  Daryl and Rosie were talking about this Magic Tree house series she was reading, and at one point Rosie wiped food off from Daryl's cheek. “So messy.”  She mumbled exhausted under her breath. Everyone nearly died laughing at this, Daryl included.  Monty told him all about his favorite dinosaur and Daryl even mentioned a few he liked, which surprised me.  The kids loved him, and dinner was a blast.

Although dinner was fun, cleaning was not.  Cherry assigned Daryl, Rosie, Monty and I on cleaning duty.  

“Ow. Heavy.”  Rosie complained, she came walking in with a grumpy expression nearly hidden by the stack of dinner plates she was bringing into the kitchen.  Before I could warn him, Daryl fell right into her trap.

“I’ll take those for ya!”  Daryl all but hummed, as he lifted the “weight” from Rosie.  She beamed up at him.  

“Thank you Dare Bear,” Daryl blushed and gave me a sheepish look when the nickname came. “I’m just so tired, it’s past my bedtime.”  Before she could fake a yawn I spoke up.  

“It is not, you liar.”  Rosie gave me an offended look, I was going to ruin her plan. But she was smart, smarter than me apparently. Her lips curled up and her eyes, as if she was a talented working actress, teared up.  Daryl was at her side in an instant, giving me a shocked look. I didn’t miss the amusement in his eyes though.  I gave up right then and there, her plan was going to work.  She had Daryl wrapped around her finger all night.

“Don’t ya call her that.  She’s sensitive.”  He whispered the last part to me as he picked her up.  “Lets get ya to bed.”  I nearly melted at the sight, as Rosie wrapped her small arms around his neck, and he rubbed her back soothingly as he carried her off to bed. She gave me a bratty smug look, pulling a smile from me. “C’mon Monty.”  Monty, who didn’t feel as hopeful on getting out of cleaning duty until now, ran towards the two, beaming.  

Then there was one.  I walked to the hallway to get a rag from the laundry closet, it was next to Rosie’s room.  I heard her giggle before her little voice echoed in the silence. I was holding my breath.  I didn’t dare to ruin the moment.

“Here Dare Bear, you can ‘ave it when doing the dishes for me.”  There was a few moments of silence before I heard Daryl chuckle, almost in defeat.  

“Alright. Thanks.”  He chuckled again.  “Sleep well, Rosie.”  I rushed back to the kitchen when I heard his light footsteps approaching.  

Minutes later and I turn around as he enters the room.

“Oh.  My.  God.”  I try so hard to keep it in, I really do, but I laugh the hardest I have in years at the sight before me.  I nearly hit my head on the wall from leaning back and cackling so hard.  I can’t form the question I want to between trying to breath and laugh.  

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Say what ya will, but I look good.”  He tries to joke about it, but his blushing face said he knew he looked ridiculous.  Tied around his waist and neck, was a pink daisy apron, made for a 5 year old.  It didn’t even cover his whole torso.  Wordlessly, I pointed my finger in the air and spun it.  Daryl stared at me exasperated before he did a little twirl for me.  A giggle escaped me and I sent him a wink.  He laughs now too, taking the rag from my hands quickly and swatting me with it.

“Shut it and get to work.”  We do as he says for a while but I just could not focus.  It was starting to annoy Daryl by the way his fingers would twitch every time he saw me drying the same plate for five minutes.  

“Play music.”  He scoffed out after I nearly dropped the cup in my hands, he was giving me a pointed look.

“Fine, if you want it so bad.”  I mumble as I make my way to the radio.  It turns on with a familiar tune, Daryl and I share a smile with one another.  

“Ain’t for me.”  He whispers, noticing how I get back into the easy rhythm of cleaning.  I blush as I realize how well he knew me.  Some things never change.  I move my hips to the song and notice him doing the same.  It nearly makes me laugh but I hold it in so he won’t get shy.  The song was “I see it, I like it, I want.” by Shirley Ellis.  We knew the song well.  Whenever Daryl and I would hang out in town, my mom would give us money for groceries and a little extra for ice cream.  The ice cream shop played that song religiously.  So often in fact, Daryl and I could never decide if we loved it, or hated it.  But by the way our bodies moved to the beat like old times, it was clear we did not hate it.  

“You look damn good in an apron.”  I giggle out, I would have been shocked at my boldness if it was any other song.  But this song makes a girl get what she wants.  

“Ya think so?”  Daryl asks, turning around with a soapy sponge in one hand and a dripping plate in the other.  I nod and he sets the two things down, his eyes playful as he engulfs at me.  

Soap was everywhere.  Slipping wet through my hair, and dripping down my arms as he grabbed my hands and swung me in a dance.  When I was pulled back into his chest his lips were by my ear, the song playing from his lips sounded much better.

“From the moment I laid eyes on ya,

This is what I said, I said a beautiful sight to see

Because everything that makes ya, you, means so much to me!”  He spun me around once more before letting go and circling around me with bad dance moves.  I pushed him to a stop before singing the rest of the song to him. 

When that song was over one played that we haven’t heard before.  But it was slow and beautiful.  Daryl fit his soapy hand in mine and leaned down close to my ear.  His lips danced shyly against my cheek as he spoke.

“Ya know, I don’t just dance for anybody,”  He pulled away and looked at me with those beautiful eyes of his.  An easy smile was on his soft lips, but only a fool would miss the anxiety ridden twitch they would have every couple seconds.  He was nervous.  I lend him courage with a squeeze of my hand and the words spilled out of him like butter.  Like he was never more sure of anything.  “Go on a date with me?”  

We stopped our dancing as I gaped up at him.  A date with Daryl?  The thought of it made my heart swell.

“Nothing sounds more perfect.”  A large smile breaks his intense stare as he gives me a kiss on the cheek, whispering in my ear he says.

“Keep ya eyes off the lake tomorrow, sunshine.” Words proceed me, as I just nod up at him like a love sick puppy.  Nothing witty comes to me so we get back to work after he twirls me once more. We finished cleaning the kitchen with laughter, our horrible dance moves, and shy intimate looks at one another over our shoulders. He winked at me when he took the rag from my hand and finished the last dish.  Oh I just can not wait for tomorrow.

TagList:

@courtnytrash04​

@pansexualgrapes​

@fanfictionsilove​

(If I forgot or you would like to be added to the taglist just let me know)

[silver-wield]

If Cloud is Zack, is that Zack hugging Tifa? How come SE makes a point of Tifa saying the flower Cloud gave her is “dead & buried”? How come Aerith states in regards to Zack that she is moving FORWARD with her life? Or the automatic trophy you get for CxA titled “Reunion”? Or the CxA dream scene where Cloud says he wants HIS OWN SAY on if Aerith loves him? Not Zack’s say — HIS OWN SAY.

Whut? Cloud isn’t Zack, he’s his own person. I literally never said or agree with that whole Cloud is Zack thing, so that argument doesn’t even hold up and you sound stupid for using it.

The thing ppl keep getting confused about is Cloud’s messed up head where he thinks he was the soldier who went to Nibelheim, but he was actually one of the grunts who went along with Zack. They were buddies and Zack told him war stories and stuff, which is how Cloud knows all that stuff. He thinks he did that. He doesn’t think he’s Zack. He doesn’t remember Zack, because if he did, he wouldn’t be trying to get on Zack’s gf because he’s not that guy. Don’t even try to say otherwise unless you’re admitting Cloud’s a douchebag. But, he doesn’t remember, so that gives Aerith an advantage because she doesn’t have to convince him first that it’s ok to like her.

Aerith saying she’s moving on is about her feelings towards Zack. Not Cloud. Maybe she thinks he’s cute at this point. Maybe she’s full blown in love with her and he’s too oblivious to pick up the signs. Doesn’t matter. She’s just been talking about Zack, feeling sad about it and likely knowing he’s dead and the exact moment he died at that. She’s lamenting a lost love, then tells Cloud she’s sorry for bumming out the mood. Then she says she’s gotta look forward. This isn’t a cue for Cloud to think she’s talking about moving forward with him. It’s about Aerith not wanting to linger on the sad past that she can’t change. She can’t be with a dead person, and neither can Cloud later on when she dies. So, oh look, it’s also a hint that HE should look forward, not back when the time comes. 

“Dead and buried” Oh, Idk, maybe it’s because THEY JUST LIVED THROUGH A MASSIVE FUCKING TRAGEDY?!?! And Tifa’s relating it to the last great big fucking tragedy she survived?! You know, the one where her entire town and everyone she loved died?!? The thing she’s crying about?! She says the flower symbolises reunion and Cloud gave it to her, and then he went missing and she thought he was dead. She literally says that the second they see each other again. She tried to keep it alive because it was the hope that Cloud was alive somewhere. It’s not going on about hers or Cloud’s romantic feelings. It’s about her hope he didn’t die and she’d see him again. 

You all discount the amount of stress put on Tifa all the time. She’s had no one for five years since Nibelheim. No one who she could confide in, who she could show weakness to. Who’d relate to how she felt exactly because she thought she was the only survivor. She’s pushed past everything and put a happy face on it, been responsible and mature because that’s what’s expected of her. Marle literally says “there’s no point crying” and since she’s the one looking after Tifa these last five years, that’s the mindset Tifa’s been exposed to. That she shouldn’t cry. That it’s pointless. This is further backed up when Jessie says “Tifa’s crying” like it’s the rarest thing on the planet. Tifa doesn’t cry. She balls her fists, sticks a cheerful face on and pushes through. She doesn’t rely on others. Until Cloud. That’s so fucking evident through all their interactions and cut scenes, but yeah, ok, whatever, let’s go with she’s talking about romance because the fucking scene is called reunion. Never mind the entire grove of flowers that symbolise it. There’s no Reunion trophy, so don’t even try it. The play log has a listing for all three of the scenes and you only get something for witnessing all of them. So, that’d make all three canon, if you gonna try that argument. Which, before you do, I already theorised they were because they’re on the same night. Barret goes first, then Aerith, then Tifa.

You Cleriths only ever see what you want. You never think that like the whispers representing OG fans telling Square not to change anything, that Cloud getting pissed and demanding where his choice is, is him telling shippers he won’t listen to them either. Aerith is the spiritual representation of her fans in that moment, furthering the OG plot - because ykno, whispers doing it would look fucking crazy - and Cloud’s expression conveys surprise at her saying it because up till then he’s not expressed any massively romantic overtures to her - don’t even start with the flirting bullshit, he’s not been overly romantic - so there’s nothing to indicate he even likes her like that, but the idea of someone saying he has no say in how he feels. How he feels, pisses him off, so he demands for a choice. It’s not about him declaring to Aerith he’s into her. He’s declaring he’ll make up his own damn mind and the will of OGers and shippers won’t be what motivates him.

Now, take your clerith ass out of my face. You don’t like my ship? Tough fucking shit.

[puckinghell]

Cross Me | Josh Anderson

Summary: When you run into your ex at a bar, Josh makes sure to make it clear he’s got your back. Based on the song Cross Me by Ed Sheeran Words: 2.5k Note: You guys kept requesting Josh Anderson and now you’ve got me into him, so thanks for that. Here you go

You haven’t seen David in a few months, but at the first sight of him, every feeling comes rushing back over you like a tidal wave.

The happiness you felt when he first told you he loved you. The pain he caused when he left.

Not just left. Cheated. 

You hadn’t really wanted to come out tonight, but Josh insisted, and he could be relentless when he wanted to be. 

“You have to go, everyone’s going,” he’d pouted, “the guys all miss you. And if you don’t come, who am I going to hang out with when they all get drunk and annoying?”

“At that time, you’ll also be drunk and annoying, so why would I wanna be there?” your answer had been, but you’d never been good at saying no, not when it came to Josh and his big puppy eyes, so that’s how you had ended up where you are now.

Standing in the corner of the bar with your feet nailed to the floor, watching as your ex walks through the door.

“Josh.” His name falls from your lips in a strangled noise and it surprises you, with the music in the bar so loud, that he hears you immediately. There’s a frown on his face as he turns around, the panic in your voice clear to him, and when he sees your fallen face he rushes over. 

“Dude?!” Zach calls out offended when Josh bumps into him, but your best friend doesn’t even seem to hear his teammate.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he reaches you, hand curling around your elbow. You don’t speak but you’re staring, and he follows your gaze to the door.

His eyes darken when he spots David. 

“That asshole.” 

Josh has been your best friend for years and his opinion has always mattered when it comes to dating people. He always meets guys you’re hanging out with pretty soon after you start dating, because if he doesn’t like them, you’ll think twice about getting serious with them.

Not only does Josh have pretty good intuition when it comes to guys being good dudes, he’s also the most constant source of happiness in your life, and it never sat right with you to be with someone he’s not keen on.

The thing is. He actually really liked David, when you introduced them. They became buddies pretty quickly, bonding over the best beer pong strategies and action movies you don’t really care about. You were with David for over a year and it had made you so happy that your best friend and your boyfriend became friends.

But when you showed up at Josh’s door with tears rolling down your at 2 am on a Tuesday, he didn’t hesitate to drop that friendship right away.

All you had to do was tell him the truth. That David had been having an affair with Vanessa, a colleague of his, for over a month. And now he was breaking up with you to go have a life with her.

David had broken you, and Josh had been there to put back the pieces. He’d been there when you spent an entire week eating chocolate ice cream and watching romantic comedies on his couch, he’d been there to carry you home when you went through a party phase, and he’d been the one to pry your phone out of your hands as you drunkenly tried to call your ex. 

You don’t know how you would’ve coped without him. You could never thank him enough for being your rock, but you knew it hadn’t been easy for him, to juggle your emotion distress and his career, not when David broke up with you while the Blue Jackets were still fighting for their playoff spot. It must’ve been tough for him, too, to lose a guy he saw as a friend. 

It’s not weird, then, that Josh’s jaw is set tight as he stares at David, eyes cold and lips pressed in a tight line.

“You wanna leave?” he asks, but the thing is. You’re doing fine now. It’s been months and although it hurts to see David, you’re definitely not in love with him anymore, and you definitely don’t want him back. All you really want to do is kick him in the balls. 

If there’s an opportunity, you might take it. 

“No,” you tell Josh, shooting him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I promised you a fun night, we’re going to have a fun night if it kills me. He doesn’t deserve to take this away from us.” 

Josh smiles, a genuine one that lights up his eyes, and he nods. “That’s my girl,” he grins, and you ignore the way your heart flutters.

You’re really, honestly, very grateful that Josh has been by your side for months, but it would’ve been more practical if it hadn’t made you fall in love with him.

You don’t know exactly when it happened. It wasn’t one big moment. It was all the small moments, drying your tears on his shirt and his arms around you, his lips softly pressed against your forehead and his snarky remarks making you laugh, calling to check up on you or texting you memes just to get your mind off it. 

Maybe you’ve always loved Josh, since the very first day you met him. You know you certainly had a crush on him for the first year of your friendship, but you figured he wasn’t interested in you that way and so you just kinda pushed those feelings away. But now they’re back and it feels like they’re planning to stay. 

“Let’s get drunk,” Josh says, leaning a little closer to talk in your ear to get over the music, and he gives your arm a quick squeeze before making his way to the bar. He says something to Seth on the way and not even five seconds later he appears at your side.

“So the ex is here, huh?” Seth says. “You alright? Call if you want us to bust his kneecaps.” 

You giggle; there’s something hilarious about the idea of Seth busting anyone’s kneecaps, even though you know he most definitely could. It’s just, well, Seth is maybe the nicest, purest soul you’ve ever met. You can’t even picture him hurting a fly.��

“You laugh,” Seth grins, “but I’m pretty sure Josh is about ready to commit murder. He’s pissed, dude.” 

Your eyes find Josh in the crowd and indeed, there’s a clear tension in his shoulders and his hands are gripping the bar with so much force his knuckles are turning slightly white. 

You’ve only really ever seen him like that on the ice, and although it’s hot - it probably shouldn’t be, with it being violence and all, but hey, you’re a simple woman, and he looks hot after fights - you’re not excited about the prospect of having him knock out your ex boyfriend. 

“I’ve got it covered, Jonesy,” you tell Seth with a grateful smile. “Thanks, though. If I need help containing Josh, I’ll call you.” 

Seth holds up his hands in defense. “Hey, I offered to take out your ex, I’m not doing shit with Josh. He’s mean. And big.” 

At least a full head taller than your ex and with twice the amount of muscle mass, probably. Nope, you definitely can’t let him punch David, even if the idea might be at least a little enticing. 

When Josh returns with your drinks, you playfully bump your shoulder into his arm and start cheerily talking about anything and everything, in an attempt to distract him, and it seems to work. Only half an hour the mood has lightened immensely and your glasses are empty.

“I’ll get the next round,” you say, and Josh taps your waist as you walk past.

“Put it on my tap.” 

You roll your eyes but you’ll definitely take him up on his offer; it’s only fair, since you didn’t want to go out and he basically forced you, and now you were breathing the same air as David the cheater.

“Two more, please?” you ask the bartender, who sends you a nod, and goes to get your drinks. 

Almost, you make it. But the second the bartender puts your drinks on the bar a familiar voice speaks.

“Hey, Y/N. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

All the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the sound and for a second, you wonder if you should just turn and run, but then you realize he’s not got that kinda power over you.

He can’t.

So you plaster a fake smile on your face and turn around. “Hello, David.” 

His eyes roam over your body with a clear interest and he smiles. “Looking good.” 

You know you do, and you would’ve told him the same, except, well, he doesn’t. There’s dark circles under his eyes and his skin is pale, and he looks like he lost weight; even if there wasn’t much to lose in the first place.

“Thanks,” you say. “How’s Vanessa?” It’s a bit of a low blow but you can’t stop yourself, and you also can’t stop the smug smile when his face falls.

“We’re, uh, we decided to call it quits.” 

“We?” you repeat, because you have a feeling you know what happens.

“Uhm, no, just, uh, she did. She didn’t really want a serious relationship.” He looks genuinely sad when he speaks again. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Look, I know I messed up, but if you ever need anything...”

Suddenly the words die on his lips and there’s a fearful look on his face. You feel two strong arms wrap around your waist and there’s the familiar smell of Josh’s cologne mixed with his laundry detergent, so you don’t hesitate to lean back into the touch. 

“If she needs anything, she can call me.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard Josh’s voice so icy cold and when you look up at his face there’s a fire burning behind his eyes, that reminds you off his on-ice fighter look. With them standing so close it’s painfully obvious that Josh could probably knock David out with one fist to the face, so you move your hand, casually dragging your fingers down Josh’s arm, to tell him you’ve got it covered. 

“Yeah,” you repeat, deadpanning, “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

David’s eyes travel from you to Josh and he frowns. “Oh, are you two, like, together, now?” 

No. 

“Yep,” Josh says, popping the P. “And what me and her have is different from what you had, because I actually fucking love her the way she deserves to be loved. Like you never could.” 

David flinches at the harsh tone in Josh’s voice and even you struggle to find words; you know he’s just trying to get rid of your ex but God do you wish he means it. 

David lets out a nervous laugh. “So are you gonna break my nose now or something?” 

Josh cocks his head to the side, shrugs. “No,” he says, “if she wants to break your nose, she’s perfectly capable of doing that herself. My girl ain’t one to play with.” His voice lowers; there’s a clear warning when he speaks. “But I’ll be staying close, David.” 

Your ex swallows, squares his shoulders. “Right. Well, the best, then.” The words fall over his lips in a hurry and you’re pretty sure he almost trips as he scurries away as fast as he can. You feel Josh relax behind you, but only slightly. 

“I really want to put that guy’s lights out,” he whispers, and you turn around to face him.

Except his arms are still around your waist and now you’re a little closer than you expected to be, your chest pressed up against his as he breathes heavily, eyes still darkened by adrenaline. 

“But you let me handle it,” you say softly. “Thank you, Josh. It means a lot that you trusted me to deal with him.” 

Something softens in his face, then, as his eyes find yours. “Y/N, you’re a badass. I wasn’t lying to him, I know you could break his nose if you wanted to.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “It would’ve just given me a lot of satisfaction to do it myself.” 

“He’s not worth it,” you tell him, and Josh sighs.

“No, I suppose he’s not.” He leans down a little, his forehead almost resting against yours but not quite, because, well, he’s stupidly tall. “I can’t believe that weasel was my friend.” 

You feel a sharp jab of pain in your heart, at that. David might’ve been an asshole to you, but he never did anything to Josh personally. “You didn’t have to stop being friends with him for me, Josh. He didn’t break your heart.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Josh laughs but there’s no humor behind it, just pain and bitterness. “Seeing you hurt, hurt me more than anything that fucker could’ve done to me. I mean...” He pauses, eyes glancing down to your lips again then looking back up to lock with yours. “If they cross you, they cross me.”

His words send warm shivers down your spine and for a second, you wonder if he meant it, what he said before about loving you. With how close he is standing, and with the way he’s looking at you, it’s hard to remember that you’re just friends. 

“Josh,” you say softly, “you gotta stop being so perfect, because you’re raising my standards to the point where I might never find another boyfriend again.” 

A strangled noise escapes Josh’s lips. “God, you don’t get it, do you?” he groans, and then his forehead actually drops against yours and your stomach flips. There’s something in his eyes, still dark but different, now, and it’s hard to read. “Nothing I said to David was a lie. I fucking love you. More than he ever could, hell, more than anyone ever could.” 

One of his hands moves to your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone as the tips of his fingers curl around your jaw. 

“I don’t want you to find another boyfriend. I want you to find me.” 

And well, if David had to break your heart in order for you to end up in Josh’s arms, all the pain was worth it. So you push up on your tiptoes and press your lips against Josh’s; he responds immediately, kissing you with a passion that has your toes curling and your heart beating in your throat and you reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. 

When he pulls away, his eyes flicker to something behind you, and a smug smirk falls over his face. 

“David is staring at us. Can I punch him now?” 

“No,” you mumble, “but you can kiss me again, just to drive the point home.” 

And he has no problem doing that.