#we are not okay over here and have never been!!!

[haveihitanerve]

It was a lesson that was, as most lesson were in Gotham, learned the hard way.

"Down!" Bruce bellowed. Dick moved. But not fast enough. He looked. He didn't flinch. He hesitated, he didn't act. He doubted. He should have trusted.

Something slammed into his side, hard and small and painful, ripping apart his muscles and shredding tendons. That was the day he learned what getting shot felt like.

He sacked to the floor, finally, hands pawing uselessly at his side as he wailed in pain.

Bruce was at his side in an instant, and they got home so fast it was most definitely illegal. It never happened again.

"Drop!" Bruce called. Dick hit the floor. He was up a second later, the sharp stinging smell of gunpowder still in the air. But the bullet had disappeared. Missed. Speared into the wall.

"On your left!" Green Lantern cried, swinging his arm around, the massive hand he'd crafted with his ring spearing forward. Nightwing glanced over, used the second to ground himself, and lunged away. To the right.

"You've gotta trust me in the field." Hal complained later. "It's no use for me to call out orders just for you to check yourself." Nightwing dipped his head. Acquiescing , but not an apology. Not agreeing. Not a promise.

"Twelve o'clock!" Batman barked. Nightwing didn't even let his eyes stray, just moved, rolling away from the incoming stampede of aliens.

"What the fuck?" Hal mouthed to Barry, but the speedster had hardly a chance to shrug back before he was off to take the incoming wave.

So he waited instead until after the battle, waited until everyone was safe and back the Watchtower to advance on the young hero.

"Hey man, what the fuck is up with you?" He probably should have kept his voice down a little, but the anger had been building, and honestly, what was up with him? Disobeying Hal's orders, just to drop at the first sound from Batman's lips? Wasn't cool, wasn't fair.

Nightwing glanced up in surprise from where he was sitting on the table, patching his arm, and so did about half the League. Batman, in particular, was watching, white lenses narrowed, but didn't approach.

"I get that Bats is super cool and all that," Hal waved a dismissive arm. "But when I shout orders in the field, you're expected to follow them. Same as everyone else."

He glanced over at Batman. "No offense Batsy." he returned focus to the man in front of him. "But you don't get to pick and choose who's orders you follow kid. Not here."

"Actually I do." Nightwing answered, and, damn, Hal hadn't expected that. An apology maybe, maybe a little bit of arguing, but not a flat out refusal. The young hero didn't even bother to lower his voice or anything. Didn't even attempt to look cowed.

"You're different Hal. You're a Lantern. I'm not." his finger thrust in Batman's direction. "He's not." Hal cocked his head, frowning. "Yeah, I don't obey your orders immediately. I don't automatically trust what you call to me. Because you're. not. human. Maybe you were, once, before you got the ring. But you're not anymore. You're not on the field."

He gestured at Batman, to himself. "We deal with threats on the daily. In the streets. On the field. You're a brilliant man, I know you are. But you're not thinking for me."

He held up his hand before Hal could argue that of course he was. "You try." He agreed easily. "But you don't. Not really." He cocked his head, struggling to come up with an example.

"Lets say this; you're a cat, and I'm a dog." Hal pulled back, face twisting at the strange comparison, but Nightwing gestured to let him finished. Hal relented.

"You, as a cat, order me to drop to the ground. Because you, as a cat, know that if you drop, you'll land on your feet." Superman was nodding, following his train of thought. Hal was still a little lost, but Nightwing wasn't finished yet, so he was okay.

"But let's say that drop is fifty feet. And I'm a dog. Dogs don't land on their feet. That drop can kill me. You didn't account for that, no matter what you might think." He shrugged, glancing over at Batman, who was puffed up a little, with pride.

"He's a dog. Like me. And he thinks like a cat, like you. He accounts for that. So yeah," Nightwing shrugged, hopping from the table, and took a few steps forward. Hal stumbled back.

"I don't follow your orders immediately. I chance a look. I risk a second of disobeying your orders in order to ensure it won't kill me. Won't do more harm than good. But I still follow your orders."

He glanced over at Batman, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"And sure, I follow Batman's orders immediately." He shrugged, heading over to the older hero, smile evident in his voice.

"But what do you expect? He's my Dad."

but yeah in the same vein of Bruce’s kids only following his orders in the field…of course they do. in Gotham, if you don’t hit the deck when Bruce says “Down!” you’re getting hurt, at bare minimum. there’s no questioning orders or hesitating. you have to trust that when B tells you to do something, it’s in your best interest, or in the best interest of the civilians, to do it — and do it really fucking well. really fucking fast.

that doesn’t mean the JL give orders in the same way, even though they’re well-intentioned. that doesn’t mean they fully grasp an emergency scene or its civilians’ needs. they might not realize how risky an order they, as a meta, give to a fully human vigilante is. they’re not a tactician the way Bruce is — they’re not thinking in plans, and backup plans, and fallback plans and extractions.

so yeah, Dick doesn’t take direct orders from anyone but B. of course he doesn’t.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hiii! Could you please write some hurt comfort hero and villain? Where it has a “who did this to you” vibes! Thanks! No pressure if you don’t want to!

"You look..." The villain's gaze travelled slowly up the hero, taking in the hard lines of them, the uncanny iciness that had replaced a once warm, familiar face. "Different."

"And you look like hell. Let's get you out of here."

Despite the fact that the hero had just blown the villain's chains to smithereens, the villain didn't move. They leaned heavily against the cold concrete wall of their cell, still staring.

The hero's fingers flexed agitated at their sides.

"I can - if you're hurt, I can help you stand. I don't - you're safe now."

It was like an act they didn't know how to play any more. The script was the same, but the tongue behind the words was a sharper thing. A whittled thing. Made hard and venomous with desperation. Like the world had taken an axe to everything that made the hero them and started hacking.

"Who did this to you?" the villain demanded.

"What?"

"You're all..." Their head lolled, as they tried to tilt it customarily to one side. Their broken fingers hurt too much to wiggle them effectively in the hero's direction, but they did their best. "Not you. All..."

"They hurt you," the hero said. Flat. Deadly.

The villain wet their cracked, swollen lips. Their voice came out raspy. "I heard screaming."

"Yeah." Something dark and protective simmered in the hero's eyes. It looked awfully a lot like 'they deserved it'. Like how the villain's eyes used to look, through a mirror darkly, until the pain scorched through everything cold and steely inside them.

"You killed people. You killed...you came for me."

"We need to go," the hero said, through gritted teeth. "We need to get you out of here. Come on." The hero ducked down, only to falter when their gruff tug immediately made the villain's whole world go fuzzy with hurting. The touch turned gentle as the villain flinched. The hero's hands floundered, like they no longer knew the language of caring, but still remembered that they wanted to try.

A stupid prickle of tears stung the villain's eyes.

"Who did this to you? Who-"

"-Please," the hero said. "Put your arms around me. You need to work with me here. Please."

The villain wrapped their aching arms around the hero's shoulders. The hero lifted them up, holding them oh so carefully. Being upright was still enough to make the villain's vision pop and then blacken.

When they regained consciousness, they were walking through a slaughter house. Blood everywhere. As if a hurricane given teeth and claws had ripped through the building.

"Did I do this?" the villain asked.

"No, love."

But that wasn't quite right.

"No, I mean - I was gone," the villain said. Their head felt so fuzzy with everything they had been given, but the sharp edges of the hero were so clear, if only they could find the words to paint the picture half as well, let the knowledge swirling inside them settle. "You were on your own. How long have you been trying to rescue me?"

"It's going to be alright, okay? I've got you. You're alright."

"Are you?"

"I'm not the one who's been tortured!" It came out a snap, and maybe the villain should have flinched after an eternity of raised voices and raised weapons, but they didn't.

"You don't do so well on your own," the villain said instead, softly. "You never have."

The hero's throat bobbed as they swallowed, convulsive, choking something down. "Don't."

The villain raised a hand, rubbing their thumb over the gaunt line of the hero's face.

The hero flinched back.

"It's going to be alright," the villain said. "You're going to be alright. I've got you."

"You -" The hero laughed then, a broken thing. They jerked their head to the side but it didn't hide the tears glinting in their eyes. "Maybe let's not focus on me right now. You were - what they did to you - they told that they - I should have got here faster."

"I'm sorry they used me against you."

"Don't."

"Tell me their names?"

"They're all dead."

"Tell me anyway."

"I killed them."

"I know, love. Tell me anyway."

The hero swore, but the villain could practically watch some life creep back into those icy eyes. Some horror. Some thing that wasn't a stranger. Their hero. The hero held them a little tighter, cradling them a little closer against their chest.

"Just - later. Let me get you help. You need help."

Well, the villain couldn't argue with that. Still. Their own body didn't feel half as perturbing as the way the hero's eyes iced over again, determined to see through the job, to not shatter no matter what they'd done to get to where they were. To get the villain back. To save them.

They tucked themselves closer to the hero's chest, to their heart - thumping proof of life, proof of hope, proof that maybe they hadn't entirely lost the thing they cared about most of all.

Who did this to you?

But the villain didn't really need to ask.

The answer was always their own name.

[miyukisu]

A Trace of Body Paint .ᐟ

❤︎ Request | He's learning anatomy for his art class—you'll help him, right? 3.1k wc ╰ feat. artist!shidou ryusei (bllk) x afab!reader

tags - lots of tension and build up at first, p*rn with plot, college au, artist! shidou, he and reader are both experienced, FILTHY, dirty talk, unprotected smeggs, rough smeggs, face f*cking, creampies, overstim, no y/n, not beta read

MEGA MASTERLIST

minors do not interact

"Yeah! I'll see you next week for my next assignment. Okay?"

Yeah right... next week...

You didn't peg Shidou as the type to flake on you, especially since he was the one who needed something from you. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, then your mind wandered to impossible territory.

Maybe he found a different person to model for him.

Maybe you weren't good enough a model and he was getting low marks because of you...

But wouldn't that be his fault?

Maybe... he dropped out of class?

Every possibility crossed your mind, but not once did you think of actually asking him, "Hey, what's up with not calling me anymore to model for your art class? You know... THE THING WE DO WEEKLY?"

But pride does get the best of us. You are no different. Either the world ends or he grovels at your feet for ghosting you like that. Anyway, why did you care so much?

Shidou Ryusei only asked you to model for him for a few weeks for an art course he was taking. It just so happens you two were close and your schedules matched (and he thought you were really pretty). In exchange, he'd treat you after every drawing session. Ordinary stuff—that was until you slowly started to develop feelings for him.

There was something about the way he looked at you as he studied every minute detail—making sure they were all transferred to paper. He made you feel so... beautiful in ways you've never realized before. But most of all, you fell for such a creative and passionate spirit.

You were snapped out of your thoughts upon spotting a familiar hairdo across the quad. Your eyes met and you made sure not to waste this opportunity—glaring at him, making sure he knew how much he had pissed you off. Shidou looked left and right, possibly trying to find a way out of it. But maybe the intensity in your eyes worked because before you knew it—he was making his way to you.

"Hey..."

"Really? That's all you have to say after ignoring the texts I sent last week?"

"Eh... must've missed them," he lied.

"What about the time you saw me near your building? You missed me standing a meter away from you?"

"Guess so," he lied again.

His nonchalance made you want to rip your hair out. This hot-and-cold treatment was driving you up the wall. It was clear with the exasperated look on your face.

Though, his eyes never left yours—those same damn eyes that stared at you for hours. It was like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Why did you even walk over here?"

He sighed like he didn't gave a shit. "You looked like you were about to murder me."

"Shouldn't you be running away then?" you countered. Shidou simply shrugged. "I'm not sure either."

You were about to unleash your fury, but he sighed loudly before continuing. "Fuck... fine. I've been avoiding you."

"Yes. I can clearly see that. The question is—why?"

"Look. I've been getting the highest scores in class because I have the luxury to have an actual person model for me... while everyone else relies on references on the internet or whatever," he explains. "But now... it's..."

"Isn't that a good thing then?" you asked—confused by his reasoning, but even more confused by his change in demeanor.

He shook his head. "Nah... it's just... I won't be needing you anymore."

Your jaw dropped. He said it so casually like it didn't just left a gaping hole in your chest.

"I mean," he backtracked. "We're gonna start drawing nude figures soon, so either you're willing to strip for me or—"

You cut him off. "Are you gonna draw my face with it?"

"Eh, all I need to draw now is the body since we're done with portraits and—"

You cut him off again. "Then draw me."

"Wha—" Shidou was cut off once more. "You heard me. Draw me," you say, as if challenging him.

It earns a hearty laugh from him—one you haven't heard in a while. "You're saying you're gonna stand butt naked in front of me while I stare at you for an hour or two? You know how that sounds, right?"

"It sounds like you're gonna stare at me butt naked for an hour or two."

You were so shameless, he thought. But it was one of the many things he liked about you. He chuckled, amused by the way things turned. Well... what kind of artist would he be to turn down such an enticing muse?

Shidou let out a low whistle as soon as the last article of clothing met the floor. You used to do these drawing sessions in the library—when all he had to observe from you were innocent things like your eyes, your hands, your hair, and so on.

But now that you have to bare everything to him, you figured the only place to do it was at his dorm. It was like what you imagined: cluttered but artsy enough that you could let it pass.

You stood awkwardly in the middle, feeling a bit chilly with nothing to protect you. But you posed, placing a hand on your hip while looking off to the side. That way, there wouldn't be any awkward eye contact.

Shidou sat down on a stool and quickly got to drawing. He said nothing as his eyes constantly flitted between the paper and your body.

The first few minutes in—you became hyperaware of everything. The fact that he was seeing absolutely everything. The absurdity of this entire situation. But most of all, the way your body was reacting to his gaze.

From your peripheral, you could see his gaze linger a bit too long at times. He'd bite his lower lip every so often and it made you feel conscious. Was he doing that because he could see your nipples hardening due to the temperature? Maybe he noticed the way you'd subtly rub your thighs together?

Whatever it was—it had him clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

Around 15 minutes pass, until he finally spoke. "Feeling tired yet?" he asked without looking up from his paper. You figured he was applying the final touches at this point.

"Yeah. A bit."

He hummed in response. "Get comfortable on my bed then."

"What? On your bed? Now?"

Shidou looked up from his paper. At this point both of you were desensitized by your nakedness (or so you thought). "Yes. Now. I have to draw you in at least 3 poses."

Three?

You gulped. But, once more, pride creeps up. You can't just challenge him to draw you naked so boldly—only for you to back down now. You gathered yourself and sat on his bed which was only a few steps away.

"Go on. You can get comfortable," he encouraged.

So you did. You lied down on your side, propping your head up on your hand. The scene that had unfolded reminded you of that one Titanic scene: Rose sprawled out for Jack to draw.

Knowing that, the moment felt too intimate. But you sucked it up... even though there was an unwanted wetness forming at your core.

Shidou shifted in his seat again, lowering his paper on his lap. "Alright, keep that position," he said, a bit strained.

In this position, you couldn't look off to the side. Your only option for the next few minutes was the wall behind him or Shidou himself.

At some point, your eyes met. There was something in his eyes you've never seen before. It wasn't the usual focus he had; it was something else. Something more intense.

But the 2nd pose passes soon enough and you were down to your last.

"What should I do now?"

He sighed, looking over his current sketches. "Lemme think. I'm having a hard time getting the details right."

"Maybe it's because you're sitting so far away," you commented—not thinking about what it implied.

His eyes zeroed in on you again—caught by your words. You want him to come closer with you like that and him slowly losing his composure? You were playing a dangerous game and you had no idea yet.

Shidou finally stood up from his chair, walking over to the bed. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but he was hard. His length strained against his fitted pants. The sight had your mouth watering.

He sat down beside you, eyes never leaving yours. The atmosphere seemed charged with the way you two found yourselves slowly leaning into each other.

"You look great," he whispered. It was something he always said in these sessions. It was a rather simple compliment. But it held more weight now.

"Thanks," you meekly responded. Neither of you realized how fast he inched towards you. His lips were a breath away. You showed no signs of backing away, so he went in.

He pressed his lips on to yours. The kiss felt hungry—needy almost—like he was fighting off this urge for so long. Before you knew it, his weight pushed you down on the softness of his bed. His scent enveloped every sense, clouding your judgement.

Shidou pulled away, breathless. "Pose like this."

He sat upright, eyes raking over your body. This time, he didn't hide the way his gaze would linger on certain parts. His hands ran down your legs, admiring the softness of your skin.

Then, without warning, he pried your legs open. But you didn't stop him. His pink irises trailed down to your core, seeing how wet you've gotten. Shidou thought he was drooling.

"Fuck... I wish I could draw this."

You feel your chest tightening. "Why not?"

"And let everyone see this?" his fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh. "No chance in hell. I want to be the only one to appreciate my muse."

He let his thumb swipe through your folds softly before pressing lightly into your clit, earning a mewl from you. He kept circling the sensitive nub as if in a trance.

"I know what I want the last pose to be," he says. You moan a little louder as he rubs your clit faster. "Want your last pose to be you all fucked out... think you can do that?"

Words got caught in your throat. But it hardly mattered. It didn't seem like he'd take 'no' for an answer anyway.

Things escalated quickly because you soon found his finger plunging in and out of your quivering hole. He made sure to curve it in a way—relentlessly hitting that gummy spot on your walls.

He added another finger, wanting to hear more of your breathless moans reverberating throughout his room. To hell with it if his neighbors heard. This was music—it was art in its purest form.

"Shit... might just cum in my pants from this." He almost did after you clenched down on his fingers, cumming for the first time today.

Even as you coat his digits with your essence, he keeps pushing his fingers in and out until the fluttering died down a bit. He pulled his sticky fingers out before having a taste, savoring every last bit.

He made quick work of his belt, pulling down his pants and letting his member out. Your eyes widened. Not only was his size impressive, but his tip was incredibly swollen and leaky—like he couldn't wait anymore.

Shidou exhaled deeply, feeling the chill of his room brush over the sensitive length. He locked eyes with you again. "Care to take care of me a bit? My hand hurts from all that drawing... and... well, you know what else."

Normally, you'd bite back at his teasing. But your mind was fuzzy. All you could do was wrap your fingers around his length, slowly tugging it at first. The pleasure he felt after being so hard for so long took the strength from him. He almost fell on top of you if it weren't for his thick arms supporting him from either side of you.

"C'mon... do it fucking faster," he ordered. You obeyed—jerking him off as fast as you can without hurting him. It wasn't long before his own hand wrapped around yours as he continued to fuck into your fist. Next thing you knew—hot ropes of cum painted your stomach.

Even he was in a daze as he observed a part of him stained you in such an intimate way. He slowly leaned in, his breath fanning your face. "Hey, can I paint you like this? You look even better with my cum all over you."

You let go of his semi-hard member, slowly tracing his muscles up until you cupped his cheek. Gently, you pulled him down for a searing kiss. It was more than enough for him to know that you too wanted more.

He became rougher—biting your lip and fighting your tongue for dominance. As you pulled away for air, Shidou moved quickly to straddle your upper body. He shamelessly took his cock and slapped it against your lips a couple of times.

"Gonna have to help me get hard again, sweets. Help me out, won't you?"

Though he didn't really give you time to respond as he invaded your mouth inch by inch. One hand held the headboard while the other supported your head. He rolled his hips slowly, gauging how much you can take in at a time.

But, clearly, he underestimated you when you gripped his hips and pulled him in yourself. You felt his cock spring back to life steadily. He pulled out his hardened shaft, letting you breathe. It was only now you realized the grin that crossed his face. He was enjoying this way too much.

He went back to hovering over you, his cock bouncing at every move he made. Your body was jelly at this point—not even a bit of resistance as he flipped you over so easily. He licked a long stripe from your lower back up until your nape. The fresh saliva combined with the chilly air made you shudder.

He carelessly lifted up your hips. With your cheek pressed into his pillows and your ass up in the air, he only got harder at the sight. He leaned down to be eye-to-eye with this so-called masterpiece, your cunt.

His nimble fingers toyed around with your soaked folds, chuckling to himself. "Man, I don't think I could ever capture something so damn beautiful."

He gave it a quick lick to test. "Well, unless you let me get familiar with her long enough." Another lick. "Maybe I can capture at least half of its beauty." Another lick. "Don't you think?"

A muffled sound was the only thing he got from you. "Yeah? You're gonna let me get to know her? As an artist, I'm overjoyed right now. Maybe I should show you."

And show he did.

He lapped up at your arousal, tongue licking long stripes each time. Your legs threatened to give out every time he flattened the pink muscle against your twitching hole. It didn't take long before he started darting in and out. Helpless groans filled his small dorm room.

Big calloused hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, making sure you stayed in place for him to enjoy. He was so messy... so so messy. Shidou suckled on your clit—really trying to coax another orgasm from you.

It didn't take much more for you to cum again, but this time all over his mouth. He happily took in everything, reaping the fruits of his labor.

He gave your ass one quick kiss as if to show his thanks. But he wasted no time lining up his painfully erect cock against your entrance. "Fuuuuck, I need to be inside you already or I'm actually going to explode," he muttered.

At first, it was just the tip. But it stretched you out so good already. The needy whine that escaped you was a testament to that. It only made him grip your hips tighter, surely leaving a mark for you to see tomorrow. Carefully, he pushed in more of his length, feeling every bump of your pussy engulf him.

"Shit. This is the stuff."

But he got impatient, shoving in the rest of his length without warning. It was so tight, so warm—too inviting for him to handle. His hands left your hips, opting to find support on the mattress instead. His thick arms caged you as his chest pressed against your back.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things in your ear, kissing your neck occasionally. But for as slow and sensual his voice may seem, his hips snapped with reckless abandon. He wasn't shy about giving you your third and, maybe, fourth orgasm of the day while chasing his own.

"You finally understand why I didn't want to ask you?"

"Yeah... I knew I was gonna end up fucking you real hard."

"But this is so much better than what I imagined."

His words brought you over the edge, cumming again. But the overstimulation rendered you thoughtless. The only thing on your mind was how good he was dicking you down.

"Fuck... Ryu!" you screamed. His grin only grew wider.

"That's it. Scream my fucking name. Let them hear it."

Your wanton moans encouraged him to go faster, mercilessly pistoning into you. It wouldn't be a surprise if you came another time on his cock.

Shidou harshly grabbed your tit, hoisting both of you up into a sitting position. This way, his cock reached even deeper into you. He kneaded your neglected breast while keeping you steady by the waist.

He showed no signs of slowing—even reaching down to play with your clit. A tear was rolling down your face from how sensitive he made you. But he quickly licked the salty tear off of the curve of your cheek.

He whispered softly, "Cum with me."

Just like the obedient muse that you were, you did. You clamped down on him as he shot rope after rope of gooey seed into you. Finally, he slowed down a bit, letting him empty himself in your pulsing cunt.

As you calmed down and he softened, he gently laid you back down on the soft mattress of his bed. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, smirking to himself.

"My best piece of work yet."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note WHAT THE FUCK DID I WRITE DAWG I WAS SO ON EDGE THE WHOLE TIME HELP WHY IS IT SO FILTHY

[marvolos]

Hold Me While You Wait

PAIRING: Cho Hyun Ju x gender neutral reader

SYNOPSIS: Cho Hyun-ju has known loss, but nothing compares to holding the lifeless body of the only person who ever truly believed in her. As they die in her arms, their final plea for comfort shatters her. Consumed by guilt over her choices in the deadly games, she is left alone in the silence of her grief, forced to confront the price of survival in a world that offers no mercy.

GENRE: angst

WARNINGS: blood, death, grief, guilt and self-blame

NOTES: i have literally been obsessed with hyunju since i finished watching s2 and the lack of fics made me want to attempt my own hand at writing (thank u to the people who requested this!!). please keep in mind that this is my absolute first time indulging into fanfic writing rather than relying on reading others' works so i would love some constructive criticism!! english is not my first language so i apologise if there are errors, this is not proof read.

Cho Hyun-ju was no stranger to the cruel intimacy of loss. It clung to her like a shadow, its touch cold and unrelenting. She had lost so many she had once dared to love, the echoes of their departures a constant ache in her chest. Friends, companions, confidants—each had slipped through her grasp the moment she chose to trust them, her vulnerability rewarded with betrayal as sharp and merciless as any blade. Yet, as she knelt there now, cradling the almost lifeless body of the only soul who had never faltered in their belief in her, she realized she had never truly understood pain. Not like this.

“Hyun-ju...” Their voice was weak, little more than a whisper. She leaned closer, her tears falling onto their face as she brushed a strand of hair from their blood-streaked forehead.

“I’m here,” she choked out, her voice cracking. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay. Just...stay with me.”

A faint smile tugged at their lips, so familiar yet so fragile it made her chest ache. “Liar,” they murmured, their words tinged with bittersweet amusement. “We both know...I’m not making it out of this.”

“Don’t say that!” Hyun-ju snapped, her hands pressing desperately against the wound in their chest. “You’re not leaving me. You promised! You said we’d survive this together!”

Their hand, slick with blood, reached up to cup her cheek. The gesture was weak, trembling, but the tenderness in their touch was unmistakable. “Hyun-ju,” they said, their gaze locking onto hers with a heartbreaking intensity. “Just...hold me.”

Her breath hitched. “No, I can stop the bleeding, I—”

“Please,” they interrupted, their voice so soft it broke her. “There’s no time. I don’t want to die alone... Just...let me feel safe. One last time.”

Hyun-ju’s vision blurred with tears, but she obeyed, gathering them closer against her chest. She buried her face in their hair, her sobs muffled as she clung to them like a lifeline. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, her words trembling with the weight of her grief. “I’m here. I’ll stay with you. Always.”

“Thank you,” they murmured, their voice barely audible now. “You...made it all worth it. Even this.”

“No,” Hyun-ju cried, her tears falling faster. “Don’t talk like that. Don’t leave me. Please...”

But their breathing slowed, each ragged inhale weaker than the last. Their hand fell from her cheek, limp at their side.

“I love you,” they whispered, the words so faint she barely caught them. And then, silence.

Hyun-ju’s world shattered.

Her beloved’s blood soaked through her fingers, warm and sticky, as if it carried the remnants of the life now slipping away. Hyun-ju's arms tightened around them as if she could hold their spirit in place, refusing to let death take what was hers. But their chest no longer rose with breath, and their once-bright eyes had dulled, staring blankly at a sky that offered no solace.

Hyun-ju's mind screamed at her to do something—anything—but her body was paralyzed, shackled by despair. The memory of a promise whispered in the tender quiet of midnight played cruelly in her head: We’ll face this together. Forever. That word mocked her now, hanging heavy with unfulfilled dreams, as eternity dissolved into a fleeting, fragile moment that ended too soon.

This was her fault.

The realization hit like a tidal wave, threatening to drag her under. Every choice she had made, every desperate gamble to survive, had led to this. She had believed she was fighting for their future—for their chance to escape the grasp of the brutal games that reduced human lives to fodder for the amusement of the elite. But instead, her choices had forged the very blade that now severed their shared hopes and dreams.

Her thoughts spiraled back to the first moment she saw them, standing on the shoreline, now just the pieces of a faint memory. The sea had stretched endlessly behind them, a restless expanse of possibility. Their smile had been like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, offering her something she had almost forgotten—hope. For the first time in years, she had felt seen, understood, as if their very presence whispered, you belong.

In the games, that hope had been her anchor. They had stood by her through every blood-streaked challenge, every moment of terror when the line between life and death blurred. They had trusted her when no one else would, had defended her when she didn’t deserve it.

And now they were gone.

That fleeting sense of belonging had been torn from her, ripped apart by the blood-soaked machinery of the games. She wanted to blame them—the faceless architects of this hell—but deep down, she knew it was her own hand that had led them here. Stay for one more game, she had told herself, clinging to the illusion that they could endure just a little longer, that she could outwit the odds. And now...now, that decision had cost her everything.

The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest, suffocating. Her vision blurred with tears, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. What did it matter now? The world was a cruel, hollow place, and mourning was all she had left.

Her hands shook as she pressed them to the wound in their chest, futilely trying to stem the flow of blood. But it was pointless. The games didn’t allow for miracles.

The loudspeaker crackled to life above her, the voice cutting through her despair like a blade.

“Contestant 024 eliminated. Remaining contestants, return to the starting line for the next round.”

Hyun-ju’s breath hitched. The next round. It never ended. The games didn’t stop for grief, didn’t pause for the dead. They demanded obedience, demanded survival at any cost.

But what was the point of surviving now?

Her gaze shifted to the others still standing at the edge of the arena, their faces pale, their eyes averted. They had seen what happened, knew it could just as easily have been them. The games had robbed them all of their humanity, turning them into hollow shells, desperate only to live another day. Sympathy was a luxury the games didn’t allow.

“What was the point?” she choked out, her voice raw and broken. The words fell into the stillness around her, unanswered, as if the universe itself had turned its back on her suffering.

She looked down at her beloved’s face, tracing every line and feature with trembling fingers. How often had those lips spoken words of reassurance, promises that they’d make it through together? How often had those eyes met hers with unwavering faith, even when the world seemed intent on breaking them both?

Now, they were gone. And she remained. A cruel joke, an empty punishment for sins she could never atone for.

Hyun-ju pressed her forehead to theirs, her tears mingling with the blood between them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking with the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies. “I’m so, so sorry.”

But the silence that greeted her was deafening, a reminder that forgiveness would never come.

The night stretched on, oppressive and eternal, as she sat there in the crimson pool of her regret, mourning not just the love she had lost but the pieces of herself that had died with them.

hold me while you wait — © marvolos, 2025.

[ramshacklefey]

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and The Things They Carried rewired parts of my brain. The Odyssey was a real treat. (Especially when some of my classmates who found the language rather opaque started gathering around me at morning homeroom to hear my retellings of last night's reading assignment.)

But I know some of you probably have or had a miserable time in English class, and that may have been partly because your school didn't properly prepare you for reading the books ahead of time, so you were just totally at sea all the way through.

If that's the case, here are some tips for getting more enjoyment out of a book you're struggling with!

Look up summaries of individual chapters (CliffsNotes usually has these). Then go back and read them. Having an idea of what's happening might help you follow along with language or writing styles that you're struggling with.

Let yourself skim over particular passages you're baffled by and latch onto the ones that make sense. Finding points that you can follow might help you make sense of the trickier ones by providing context.

If you don't understand a character's motivations, especially in older books and books that take place in a foreign country, it might be because you're missing context. That's okay, and your teacher isn't expecting you to have encyclopedic knowledge of the historical and cultural context for a book.

But also, even in the most unfamiliar circumstances, you can look for things that make sense to you. The characters are still people, and regardless of context, people are still people.

But also, sometimes you just can't relate to the character. That's ok. "Well I would never ____" Yes, but this person did. And here's why. In the world they live in, it made sense or it was the only thing they could do. And there are people in real life who do that. Now you've seen a little bit of why.

You don't have to like all the characters. Some characters (even the protagonists) you're supposed to hate. Sometimes that's because the author is saying, "This bastard is fucked up, but do you see how he got that way?" Sometimes it's, "This bitch made every wrong choice possible, but damn if it didn't make some wild drama."

Remember that sometimes the author may not explain exactly why something happens because it's supposed to be a bit of a mystery at first! Keep reading and see if it gets explained later!

Look up words in the dictionary!!

If you're having trouble keeping a lot of characters in your head, make a cast list. "John is Mary's brother and he's a bit of a dick."

It's okay if there are books you simply do not vibe with. Give them a fair shake, but really, even the kids who love English class are gonna have books they hate. I despised a few of the books I read for school. But remember that struggling with a book and not liking it aren't the same thing!

And for the love of everything holy. Ask. Your. Teacher. Questions. Write them down while you're reading and ask! If you're scared to ask in class, talk to them at another time! But I can guarantee that if you didn't understand something, some of your classmates didn't either. If your teacher is remotely competent, they'll be delighted to answer your questions.

And there are no questions too simple to ask in class!! "Why did this character do this thing?" "What's up with this sentence?" "I tried reading this, and here's what I think the events of this chapter were. Is that really what happened?" "What the heck is a ____?" "Why was this bit in here? It doesn't seem like it's important to the plot." "How do we know that ____ theme is in here?"

Yes, there are themes and symbols and motifs and whatever else in books. Your teacher isn't just making it up. People tell stories for a reason. The author is trying to communicate something to you. "Well why didn't they just say that?" Because saying it in a story shows you something about it. I can tell you, "Love isn't always enough to save you." or I can show you that by telling you a story about two people who fall in love and then get their shit wrecked. I can tell you, "This war happened and it was awful," or I can show you the people who were in it and what it did to them. I can tell you, "The government is a corrupt pile of festering feces," or I can show you what might happen if we keep going on the path we're on.

And you might not agree! You can say, "No, it wouldn't happen like that." You can say, "But this war was worth it because it resulted in this." You can say, "Actually, this particular social outcome seems pretty rad to me." That's okay because stories are a conversation, not the word of God from on high. But again, give the author a fair shake.

The most important thing is that you don't just give up if you're struggling. You're in school to learn! So accept that there are things you don't already know.

I straight up do not trust you if you did not enjoy a single book you had to read for English class. I know they assigned some real stuffy stinkers and the curriculum varies across districts but not one? Not The Outsiders? Not The Picture of Dorian Gray? Not Fahrenheit 451? Not even Frankenstein? Damn. That’s crazy.

[star2fishmeg]

CONGRATS ON 1K 🥳

Could I request Quinn Hughes helping reader through a stress breakdown + #13?

Thank you for requesting <3

FLUFF #13 "You came." "You called."

📞 dialling…

Quinn had never gripped his steering wheel harder in his life. Never had been so impatient and desperate to get back to his apartment before. He’d never burst through the front door, dumping his bags and almost tripping through his hallway like he had after he saw the notification back in the rink’s locker room. The second he opened his phone after practice and saw her name on the ‘missed call’ notification, his stomach dropped drastically, and all clothing and equipment was shoved into his bag without much care.

Following the sniffling, he peered into his living room, slowly and quietly stepping closer to y/n curled up on his sofa, as if she were trying to melt into the back cushions from how tight she had pressed herself against them, like she was trying to get as far away from her laptop that sat on his table behind her and curl up into a ball. He thought for a second that the way she had positioned herself, she didn’t want to look at the device she usually would be working from when he got home, her eyes red and wide, wet with glistening cheeks, choked sobs falling from her chest staggered.

Taking a seat next her, lips pulled into a compassionate frown, Quinn wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her onto his lap and holding her to his chest, “Sshh, I’m here, darling, I’ve got you.”

For some reason, one she could not explain, she cried harder, a lump in her throat that was cured by wails and uncontrollable tears as she melted into his hold, tucking her head into his collarbone and letting his voice and hands sooth her. His heart ached, a sting in his chest as her hand clutched his hoodie.  

After allowing herself to fall into vulnerability, safe in his warmth, y/n sniffed, eyes bleary and grip on his hoodie loosening. Quinn’s hands remained soft, caressing over her back and placing gentle kisses to her head. 

“You came?” she croaked, voice only loud in the silence of the apartment. 

His hold tightened, wiping her cheek with his thumb and gazing softly into her eyes, “You called, why wouldn’t I come?” 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I…I know not to call when you…you’re at practice but, but-” the words seemed to blurt out into breathless sobs, the kind that had her ugly crying where strings of saliva coated her lips, and she sniffed every few seconds to spare the embarrassment of getting mucus all over him. 

“No, no. It’s okay, you can call me whenever you need.” He cooed, leaning back into the cushions. 

He didn’t need to ask what she meant; they’d been together so long he just knew. She would never call him during practice unless it was an emergency. Not that he’d pick up until he’d re-enter the locker room, but y/n had a stone pride, a fear of asking for help and case of responsibility she felt obliged to even when she wasn’t. Being a hard-worker and carrying a weight were two different things and she couldn’t tell the difference, which led to situations like Quinn had walked in on. Y/n wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t out of desperation and the only time she ever called was when the weight of her stress crushed her into a mental and emotional collapse.

The sobbing gradually dulled into sniffing, y/n staring into space while he stroked her hair, “Do you wanna talk about it? Or I can run a bath with the candles? Or we can just cuddle and watch something?” 

She didn’t ask a lot from him. Just to be held when she needed him the most and to let her hold him. And that intimacy was enough for her heart to slow into a peaceful rhythm.

“It’s too much, Quinn.” Her voice was strained, cheeks hot from her outburst. Yet, he didn’t know how long she’d been crying and panicking for until she called, and that pained him the most. “There’s so much work to do and so little time, but if I don’t do it, I’ll let everyone down and they’ll hate me and I’ll lose my job and-”

“-and you don’t have to do it alone. Why don’t we take a bath, cuddle on the couch and we can talk it through?” 

She’d never met a gentler man in her life. She’d seen him tussle on the ice, throw a punch or two but that never made it outside the rink. He never raised his voice, never left any argument unresolved and his voice was always softer with her, whether he knew it or not. His arms, his warm and inviting arms paired with him knowing exactly what she needed without her saying a word broke away the distress chip by chip.

Shaking her head wearily, her lip quivered, “No, Q, you don’t have to go through all that, I can handle it, I swear. You’ve got your own things, I’m just overreacting, I’m fine, it’s fine. Yeah.”

“Y/n, look at me.” Quinn pulled her away from his chest, hand cupping her cheek and bringing her head to look him in his eyes. “Breathe. You’re not going to do this alone. I’m here for you and I love you, I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better, okay?”

She nodded, his thumb wiping away any excess tears. She swallowed the lump in her throat, breathing in for five seconds and exhaling for another five, just as Quinn taught her. Soft lips pressed to her temple, and she gave a small smile, leaning against his chest once again.

[adumbratrapedme]

“Caught, Almost!”

Pairing: kenma x reader

Synopsis: you and kenma. needy. school grounds. almost caught. ok? ok.

Warnings: “public” sex, smut, +18, p in v, etc. idk im too lazy to properly tag this uhhh, is my first time writing smut cuz i usually get too nervous while writting it ngl (i take constructive criticism, sooo point out what i could do better. thank you!). nyan!

╭⋅Tbh not even you know how you guys enfed like this huh ╭⋅You where supossed to JUST GO AND FIND YOUR BOYFRIEND that was skipping practice (again) ╭⋅He was tired you know?? You guys just finished exam season and! He got a new game! Common!! Let my man rest!! ╭⋅Anyways, you didn’t care, sorry ken ken, disadvantages of having a manager gf unu ╭⋅So, tbh i would never take kenken as someone that has public sex? But i mean lets try to understand him ok? A full exam week, no gf, no kisses and the only opportunities you had to get together he got cockblocked! Wether it was his or you family ╭⋅When you finally find him sitting in his desk playing with the psp you try to pull him away but he does not comply! ╭⋅Until well… you get irritated and start saying that you’d do anything he wants!! ╭⋅So here we go :3

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Kenma~!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty halls as you searched for your elusive boyfriend. Frustration bubbled inside you, and just as you were about to give up, a familiar mop of pudding-colored hair caught your eye through the window of an empty classroom. “UGH! THERE YOU ARE!!” you huffed, storming into the room, Kenma flinched at your sudden outburst, his eyes still glued to his handheld console. "You're still looking for me? So... practice isn't over yet? Great..." he muttered under his breath, clearly bothered by the situation.

"Honeyyyy~" you groaned dramatically as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. He didn't budge, his fingers tapping away at the buttons, “keEeeEn~” you whined, playfully trying to push him out of the chair.

"Come on! Kuroo is going to kill me if I don't bring you back!"

Still no reaction.

You leaned in closer, pressing your cheek against his. "Do you really want your beaaauuutiful girlfriend to fail at her manager duties, huh?"

Kenma finally sighed, his gaze never leaving the screen. "

...If it means

you'll leave me alone, then... sure."

"UGH! Kenmaaaa!" you pouted, slumping dramatically in front of him.

Dropping to your knees and hugging his legs you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes. "Please?"

His fingers faltered for a second.

"You're so annoying.." he muttered, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After what felt like hours (okay, maybe just ten minutes) of begging and pressing Kenma to go to practice, you finally hit your limit. Refusing to stand from your spot on the floor, you crossed your arms and gave him your best fake teary eyes, complete with a trembling pout.

“Fine then… let them fire me from my manager position,” you huffed dramatically. Kenma finally glanced down at you, his expression flat. “Y/N… this isn’t a job. They won’t fire you.”

But then — ngh! — his gaze lingered. The sight of you sitting on the floor, all pouty and vulnerable? That triggered something in his brain.

Neurons? Activated.

Kenma? Horny

Y/n? Annoyed

Crops? Watered.

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he averted his gaze, but his voice softened. “But… maybe there’s something we can do… if you really want me to go back to practice.” Your eyes lit up. “YAS! I knew it!” You leapt from the floor, wrapping your arms around him in excitement. “Come on, tell me! I’ll do anything you want!”

Kenma blinked, momentarily stunned by your enthusiasm, before a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well… you know how we haven’t been able to spend much time together lately?” You nodded eagerly, not missing the way his voice dipped into a quieter tone.

“And how every time we try to be alone… someone interrupts us?” he added, glancing at you briefly before looking away again, the blush deepening.

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, heart thumping in anticipation. Kenma cleared his throat. “Well… maybe we can do it now.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait… here?” “The school’s practically empty,” he murmured, setting his PSP down on the desk. “Only a few clubs and… maybe a janitor. But if we’re careful…”

He finally looked back at you, and the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“You serious?” you whispered.

Kenma leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Only if you want to.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

So... in the end, you gave in—how could you possibly resist that pudding-colored mop of hair? And now, here you are, in this exact moment.

You're leaning over his desk, your hands pressing against the surface.

Honestly, you feel a little exposed. Your boyfriend's behind you, and you can feel his gaze, while all you can see is what's right in front of you. You feel his cold hand lift your skirt, the breeze of his breath hitting your core, making you shiver just a little..

"just look at this, huh kitten? i barely even told you what i wanted and you are this wet already?” he said as he pulled down at your underwear, “ so eager to please me huh?” He said leaning into you and giving your ear a few kitten licks.

"P-Please, Kenma," you whispered, a hint of shame in your voice. Doing this in school? It felt so forbidden, so sinful. But deep down, you couldn't deny it — you'd been waiting for this moment just as much as he had.

To be honest, Kenma had wanted to tease you a little longer, but even he couldn't hold back. After the past week of restraint, he was too pent up to keep it inside any longer.

"So whiny..." he murmured while placing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, while one of his hands ran down your shirt until he reached your breasts, the way he squeezed them was very rough, but it was the right one for that moment, his hand was massaging them and the other was busy unbuckling his belt.

"I'm sorry darling..." he whispered into your ear while holding his member with one hand and rubbing it against your entrance earning a soft moan from you "you know that normally I would go slowly but... I don't think there's enough time for that right now"

You nodded in agreement, eager to feel him inside you, you hadn't realized how much you needed this, how much you missed his hands, his kisses and his caresses...

Just when you were lost in your thoughts a sudden pressure at your entrance made you yelp, Kenma's hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers pressing into your skin as he pulled you closer. His breathing was uneven, his gaze heavy with desire as he leaned in.

"Ahh... Y/N..." His voice came out low and hoarse, roughened by the tension building between you. He pushed in deeper, his movements purposeful, each one making you gasp as your body adjusted to him. "You're so tight... nghh..." The way he muttered it, half a groan and half a breathless confession, made your stomach flutter.

A whimper escaped you, soft and broken, your lower lip trembling as you tried to speak through the haze. "K-Kenma... it's so big, I-"

Before you could finish, he picked up his pace, each movement making you lose more control over your voice. You couldn't stop the sounds slipping from your lips, and just as quickly, he silenced you with a kiss - rough, needy, possessive. "I like you better when you just moan for me," he mumbled against your lips, his voice low and commanding.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, making you melt into his touch.

You could feel the tension in your body rising fast, and by the way Kenma gripped you, he could feel it too. The way you clenched around him made him groan softly, his head dropping to your shoulder as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving faint marks behind.

Normally, he would slow down - tease you, drag things out until you were begging for more. But this time, he couldn't hold back. His own release was close, and it showed in the way his thrusts grew more erratic, rocking the desk beneath you as he pushed deeper.

"Fuck... baby..." His voice was husky, strained, filled with urgency as he buried himself in you. "I'm really close..."

You couldn't hold back your own moans any longer. The intensity of his movements, the weight of his body against your back, the sound of his voice — it was all too much. You didn't care if anyone could hear, if anyone walked by. All that mattered was him.

Kenma's fingers tightened their grip on your hips, his forehead pressed to yours as he pushed you both toward the edge. His heart was racing, his breath ragged in your ear, and you could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter.

"Kenma... please." you whimpered, your voice trembling as you clung to him, your body shaking from the overwhelming sensation.

He groaned softly at the sound of his name falling from your lips, his movements never faltering. He could feel how close you were — he always knew your body better than you did.

And though his usual control would have him drawing things out, this time he couldn't stop. His release was so close, right there, and he didn't want to hold back.

Twenty minutes in, and he already had you falling apart twice. But still, he kept going, chasing that final high — for both of you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Kenma's forehead rested against your back, his breath hot and uneven as you both tried to steady yourselves.

His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns under your skirt, a stark contrast to the urgency from moments before. There was a softness in his gaze now, something tender beneath the layers of intensity that still lingered in the air between you.

"Are you okay?" he murmured quietly, his voice softer, more familiar. The concern in his tone made your heart ache in the best way, and you nodded, lips curling into a faint smile.

"I'm okay," you whispered, though your voice still trembled slightly from the aftershocks, your body now fully resting in the desk in a weak attempt of catching your breath.

Kenma's lips twitched into a small smile at your answer. He wasn't always great with words, but his actions said enough. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you before before turning you around, facing each other, his forehead brushing yours in a quiet moment of calm.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence was comfortable, filled only with the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint creak of the desk beneath you. His thumbs rubbed lazy circles over your skin, grounding both of you as you melted into each other. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" he asked after a moment, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. It wasn't like him to ask, but there was something different in the way he looked at you now — more vulnerable, more open.

You shook your head, cupping his face gently. "No... it was perfect," you said softly, and you meant it.

Kenma sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned into your touch.

His lips pressed a lingering kiss to your palm before he pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around you like he couldn't bear to let go just yet. "You make me feel things I never thought l'd want," he admitted quietly, his voice almost shy. "I've never... wanted someone like this before."

The honesty in his words made your chest tighten, and you couldn't help but smile as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered against his skin. "You don't have to be afraid of wanting me."

Kenma's arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His heart was pounding against yours, steady and strong.

What you both thought would be a peaceful moment didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped. For a brief second, you let yourselves forget that you were still on school grounds, thinking you could steal a quiet moment together. But reality quickly came crashing back in the form of a loud, obnoxious voice that both of you knew all too well.

"KENMAAAAAA... Y/N!" Kuroo’s voice echoed through the hallways, sharp and unmistakable as he called out for you two. It was impossible to ignore. You exchanged a glance, both of you groaning internally.

"Come on, Y/N, I trusted you!" Kuroo’s voice whined from further down the hall, his footsteps growing louder as he approached.

"Shit," Kenma muttered, clearly irritated. He quickly pulled away from you, his eyes darting around in panic. "We should hurry," he added, his tone serious now.

Both of you scrambled to adjust yourselves. Kenma straightened his uniform with a quick tug at his collar, while you did the same at your skirt. You couldn’t help but glance at Kenma, biting your lip in a mix of amusement and slight concern.

"Do I have sex hair?" you asked, half joking but also genuinely curious, Kenma paused for a split second, giving you a once-over before shrugging. "Hmm... maybe just a little," he said nonchalantly, brushing his fingers through your hair to tame it.

"Great," you muttered, pushing your hair back into place as the sound of Kuroo’s voice drew closer. You had to think fast before he found you both in the hallway, and judging by the way Kenma was glancing nervously in the direction of the noise, he was already calculating your next move.

You both braced yourselves for what would surely be an uncomfortable encounter, wondering if this "moment of peace" was truly ever meant to be.

[wheels-of-despair]

I'm Gonna Love You Forever Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie gets some upsetting news and has to hide out at Evil Woman's house for a little while… it's an angsty one, kids. Contains: Fear and nightmares, bed-wetting and blood, childhood trauma and abuse, comfort and reassurance, a declaration of love. Words: 3.7k

A thwap comes from your right.

You glance over and chuckle. Eddie is lying next to you on your bed, on his stomach, and his face is planted in the middle of the history textbook he's supposed to be reading.

"Are you absorbing the necessary information better that way?" you ask, turning your attention back to a battered classroom-issued paperback.

"No," he grunts. "Need a break."

"I understand. You've been reading for a whole," you check your watch, "three minutes."

He groans.

"Finish this chapter and we'll take a break."

He groans louder, head still in his book. And then the phone rings. His head pops up. "It's Wayne, he says I gotta come home right now, can't study any more."

"Shut up," you laugh, smacking his denim-clad ass with your book as you get up and go to answer the phone.

Your brother already has it. You stand in the hallway with your arms crossed, waiting for either a hand-off or a dismissal. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand.

"Eddie's uncle wants to talk to him," he says lowly. You nod, hold up a finger, and return to your room.

"You're in luck, Munson; it really is Wayne."

Instead of looking relieved, Eddie looks concerned. It's understandable; Wayne never calls here. Eddie scrambles out of bed and skids into the hallway on his socked feet.

You sit on the bed and open your book, but don't absorb a single word... because you can hear Eddie's side of the conversation.

"What? Why? No. No. I can't. I'll stay at Rick's or something. I'll let you know. Bye."

It's tense. It's rushed. Something is definitely wrong. You toss your book aside when he hurries back into your bedroom. He closes your door and leans against it, face even paler than usual.

"You okay?" you ask, knowing the answer.

His lip begins to tremble. His eyes start to well. You're off the bed and wrapping your arms are around him in an instant. He squeezes you and buries his face in your neck.

"What happened? Is Wayne okay?"

Eddie sounds like he's starting to hyperventilate, so you guide him toward the bed. You get him to sit, then kneel on the floor in front of him and hold his hands in yours. He's hunched over; his eyes are scrunched tight, his face looking a little green.

"Breathe, baby. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe."

He squeezes your hands until you begin losing feeling in your fingers, but you don't let go. You couldn't, even if you wanted to. Eventually, his breathing slows and he releases his death grip on your hands.

"My dad's out."

You've been dating Eddie Munson for more than six months, and he's barely mentioned his father. You never asked about his parents; you figured if he wanted you to know, he'd tell you. And he did, occasionally. You'd gathered that neither of them were the nurturing type. You knew they were alcoholics. You knew Eddie's mother died when he was 7, and that he came to live with Wayne when he was 8. Everything else was something of a mystery that you figured he'd reveal in time, when he was ready.

Eddie takes a shuddering breath and begins: "He was supposed to be doing 15 years. It's only been 12. He showed up at the trailer a little while ago. Wayne says he wants to see me." Tears fall when he shakes his head. "I can't."

"Baby, you don't have to," you tell him softly. He closes his eyes. "Eddie, you don't have to see him if you don't want to. You're a grown-up. He can't make you do anything." He covers his face with his hands, and you move upward to wrap your arms around him again.

"I don't want to go home," he whimpers.

"So stay with me."

"Yeah, I bet your mom would love that," he says sarcastically, pulling back and swiping at his eyes.

"She literally went to court to fight my dad when we said we didn't want to see him anymore. She'll understand."

"I don't know how long it'll be 'til he fucks off."

"That's okay."

"What if she says no?"

"She won't," you say confidently.

You don't know what his father did to him, or why he was locked up, or why Eddie is so scared, but you know one thing: if that old man comes near the boy you love, it'll be the last thing he ever does.

You move your books to the floor and lie down on the bed together. Eddie buries his face in your chest and lets you hold him tight. You lie there in silence, gently playing with his hair, until you hear your mom come home from work.

"Be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.

When you return to your room, Eddie is curled into a ball on his side, hugging your pillow. He looks up at you with fearful, red-rimmed eyes. You ease back onto the bed, lying down to face him, and reach out to tuck his shaggy hair behind his ear.

"Mom talked to Wayne," you tell him quietly. "He thinks staying here for a few days is a good idea, too. Said he'd bring you some stuff on his way to work. Is that okay? Will you stay?"

"Do you really want me?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course I do," you smile. You gaze into his big brown eyes and feel your heart swell. "I'd keep you with me all the time if I could." You kiss his the tip of his nose. "Oh, and Mom says she's making lasagna for dinner, in honor of getting our very own Garfield."

He snorts.

Eddie follows you into the kitchen when it's time for dinner like he usually does. He stays to eat with you several times a week anyway, so nothing feels at all out of the ordinary.

Until he nearly jumps out of his skin when someone knocks at the door. You place a hand on his leg under the table when your mom goes to answer it.

You both let out a quiet sigh of relief when you see Wayne step inside. He follows your mom into the kitchen, carrying a brown grocery bag and Eddie's Sweetheart.

"Can you spare a few minutes for dinner, Wayne?" your mom asks.

"No, ma'am, just came to drop off some stuff for the boy on my way to work."

Eddie gets up to take his things from his uncle.

"Talk to you outside for a minute?" Wayne asks.

"Yeah." Eddie sets his bag and other lover aside and follows Wayne outside. You stare at the door nervously while your mom packs a meal in Tupperware for Wayne to take with him.

When they return, Eddie looks shy, like a kid who's been coached on how to thank relatives for a gift he didn't really want. He takes his seat, and Wayne hovers in the doorway.

"Thank you again for takin' him in, ma'am. He gives you any trouble, you give me a call."

You smirk. Eddie blushes furiously and refuses to look in your direction.

Your mom laughs warmly. "Please. Eddie's never any trouble. We're always happy to have him." She hands the Tupperware container to Wayne. "Take this."

"Ma'am, I--"

"Take it." You're pleased to see that the Don't Argue With Me Voice works on grown-ups too.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Now Eddie's the one smirking, and Wayne's the one blushing.

"Alright," Wayne rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "I gotta get goin'. Thank you again, ma'am. Call if you need anything. And you?" Eddie looks up to see his uncle pointing at him. "Be good."

Eddie nods, and Wayne leaves with his Tupperware meal.

The rest of dinner passes uneventfully, and afterwards, you and Eddie pick up the Wayne-delivered goods and return to your room to pretend to finish your homework.

"Where can I…?" Eddie spins around in the middle of your room, looking for a safe place to stash Sweetheart.

"Anywhere you want," you smile, placing his bag of clothes in your desk chair and dropping onto the bed. "Mi casa es… Sweetheart's casa?"

He settles her in a corner, then comes to join you on the edge of the bed. He lets out a sigh that it seems like he's been holding for hours. You wrap an arm around his back and rest your chin on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He leans against you. "Wayne thinks he'll fuck off in a few days. Most of his old buddies are either dead or locked up. He's staying at the shitty motel by the laundromat. Wayne says he'll probably go back to my grandma's when he runs out of money."

"You have a grandma?" you ask.

Eddie waits a beat.

"That's what you got out of that?"

"You've never mentioned her."

He shrugs, making your head bob with his shoulder. "Didn't like my mom. Didn't like me. Don't know much about her."

"What's Wayne think about him being back?"

"Same thing I do. Wish he'd get hit by a fuckin' truck."

You're rubbing your hand up and down his back when a voice calls from the hall.

"I'm watching Dawn of the Dead, if you losers wanna quit sucking face long enough to enjoy some real entertainment."

You lift your head from Eddie's shoulder. "Wanna?"

"Does it mean I don't have to finish my history homework?" he asks hopefully.

"I was gonna skim the chapter and summarize for you anyway."

"Fuck yeah," he grins.

You head to the living room, get comfortable on the couch, and lose yourselves in zombieland for the next two hours. Not what you would've picked for a soothing distraction from a horrifying reality, but it seems to work for Eddie.

He seems calmer as you get ready for bed. You stand together at the bathroom sink to brush your teeth, letting the toothpaste dribble out of your mouths and growling like zombies at each other in the mirror.

This is, of course, when your mother walks by to say goodnight: When you've both got toothpaste dripping off your chins.

"I don't even want to know," she shakes her head, trying and failing to conceal her smile. "Everything's locked up, I'm going to bed." She doesn't usually announce that everything's locked up, but you appreciate her trying to pass it off as normal for Eddie's benefit.

"G'night," you both gurgle through your foam-filled mouths. She lightly smacks her own forehead with her palm and walks away laughing. You lean forward to spit and grin at each other in the mirror.

Once the lights are off and you're in bed, Eddie practically crawls on top of you. You hold him tight and stroke his hair, finding that one spot on his scalp that's been known to knock him out. It works. You hope his dreams are much happier than his reality as you begin to drift off to the sound of his steady breathing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck."

You open your eyes to a strange chant and suddenly remember that Eddie is supposed to be with you. You can't feel him. You roll out of bed and turn on the lamp. He's kneeling on the mattress, hair a mess.

"Turn around," he orders. "Don't look."

"Eddie, what's going on?"

"Turn around!"

You're in such a panic, you can't just turn your back on him. Your eyes drift from his frantic eyes to the wet spot he's trying to shield with his body. When your eyes meet his again, he crumbles.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he cries.

"Babe, it's okay," you begin.

"I'm so fucking sorry, just let me get my shit and I'll go," he continues.

"Eddie, would you stop?"

"I wish I was fucking dead, I'm so fuc--"

"Eddie! Stop!" Your sharp tone scares him enough to make him stop rambling.

You step toward a corner of the bed and pull the sheet back to reveal what's underneath.

"Look. Mattress pad. Easy fix. By morning, we can pretend it never happened."

He looks from the white corner of the fabric to you, and then back again. His mouth opens and closes several times.

You lean against your dresser and speak softly, resisting the urge to close the distance and embarrass him further. "You're aware that I hemorrhage for a significant amount of time every month, right?"

He nods.

"Sometimes I bleed through. My last mattress looked like such a murder scene, Mom was afraid to transport it across state lines. It's not a big deal. I go through this all the time."

He sniffs.

"Why don't you go hop in the shower? Just put your clothes in the hamper, and I'll throw a load of laundry in."

He starts to protest.

"Nobody'll suspect a thing," you cut him off before he can even begin. "I go through this at least once a month. It's practically expected of me. Nobody'll know."

He looks downward, and you let him consider his options.

"Can you turn around?" he asks quietly.

"Yep."

You turn your back and hear him rustling through his paper bag, and then hear the door open and close. You strip the sheets - only the bottom sheet had any traces of his shame - and ball them up.

You weren't lying; this does happen occasionally. Perhaps not as often as you implied, but enough that nobody would raise an eyebrow at the washing machine going at 3 am. You clean the spot on the mattress pad, change the sheets, re-make the bed, and grab clean pajamas. You'll throw your current ones in with the load, to support your 'It Was Me' story, should anyone question it. (They won't, but it would probably make Eddie feel better.)

"Did any get on you?" He'd crept back into your room so quietly, you hadn't even noticed him. He's eyeing the fresh stack of pajamas you've placed on top of the dresser.

"Nope," you smile, turning around. "Figured we could do with a complete re-set. I'll be right back."

You grab the sheets in one hand and your pajamas in the other, and head to the bathroom to collect Eddie's clothes.

Four minutes later, you return to your room. Eddie is sitting on the floor, leaning against your dresser, his knees to his chest. You sit next to him, but not close enough to touch him. Not yet.

"Please don't beat yourself up over this," you beg. "It's not a big deal."

"Fucking embarrassing."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He doesn't respond. You stretch your legs out in front of you, cross your ankles, and get comfortable.

"You know I'm gonna marry you one of these days, right?"

Still nothing.

"What do you reckon our life expectancy is? I figure we've got what, maybe 50 years ahead of us? That's a lot of time."

You place your hand on the floor between you, palm up, to see if he'll take it. He doesn't.

"I'm gonna love you forever," you inform him. "Sickness, health, weird haircuts, awful tattoos, all that jazz. I will love you if you suddenly develop a fondness for Madonna or disco dancing. I'll even love you if you become that guy who brings an acoustic guitar to parties and expects everyone to sit around and listen to him. Actually, maybe not with that one. Please don't be that guy." You pause, hoping for a laugh. When it doesn't come, you clear your throat and continue. "Point is, there's almost nothing that could make me stop loving you. This, right here? Doesn't change a thing. I fucking love you. Get used to it."

He lets it sink in, and then he sighs. Finally, he reaches for your hand. Your fingers lace together. You look over at him, and he slowly meets your eye.

"I fucking love you too."

"You better, Munson," you wink.

He smiles a tiny smile.

"Ready to go back to bed?"

He hesitates and asks, "Can I go out and smoke first?"

"Baby, you're a refugee, not a prisoner. You don't have to ask permission to leave."

"Right," he groans, hauling himself off the floor. He holds out his hands to help you up, and you take them.

"Do you want company, or do you need a minute?" you ask once you're standing.

He shrugs, looking at the floor.

"Because that's okay," you smile, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face.

"What's okay?"

"Needing a minute," you explain. "I just announced my intention to lock you down forever. We're probably gonna occasionally need a minute to ourselves."

"You can come with me," he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You follow him to the back door, put on your jackets and shove your feet into your shoes, and step out into the darkness. You sit next to each other on the porch steps, resting your head on his shoulder and huddling together for warmth as Eddie smokes in silence. It's pretty peaceful out tonight. The black sky is cloudless and dotted with stars. The air feels clean and crisp. Eddie's body provides just enough heat that you're not too bothered by the cold.

He seems calmer after he smokes his cigarette down to the butt, but he uses the tip to light another. It's going to be a long night. You press your fingers between your thighs, starting to feel the chill set in.

"You know the Speedway just this side of the county line?"

A run-down gas station with a cracked parking lot and a flickering neon sign comes to mind. Yeah. You know of it, but you've never been in. Gareth had suggested dropping in for snacks once when you passed by, but Eddie had said everything in there was overpriced and kept driving. You hadn't thought anything of it at the time; you and Eddie are 7-Eleven people, after all.

"Yeah," you whisper.

Eddie pauses so long, you wonder if he's reconsidering telling you whatever he was about to reveal.

"We were on a beer run," he says eventually. "Dad was already hammered. Ran over our mailbox and took out the neighbor's trash can on the way out. Swerved all over the road. I used to think it was fun, riding like that, but looking back I'm surprised nobody died." Eddie stops to take a long drag. "I stuck a pack of Sno-Balls under my shirt while Dad was paying for his beer. You know, those pink coconut cakes?" He glances at you for confirmation, and you nod. "The thought of those things makes me sick now. But when you're that hungry, they look fuckin' amazing. Anyway, the cashier spotted me and said something. Dad's face… I mean, it was already red from the drinking. But it looked like his head was going to explode. Eyes poppin' out of his head, vein throbbing in his neck. He grabbed me by the hair and just started whalin' on me, right there in the middle of the store. I heard people yelling, but I… I kinda just scrunched my eyes shut and waited for it to be over, like I always did. And then when I opened them again, Hop had the old man pinned to the floor."

Eddie sniffles and drags his sleeve across his face.

"I know you've never seen my dad, but he's not a big guy. Hopper could've fucking demolished him. But Hop had a busted lip. Blood just dripping out of his mouth and onto the old man. Sometimes I wonder… if maybe Hop let him get a swing in just 'cause he knew that's what it would take to finally put him away. And it did. He got 15 years for assaulting a cop."

A tear streaks down your cheek, and a smile tugs at your lips.

"Took three guys to haul Dad off. Still kicking and screaming. At me, at Hop, I dunno. But Hopper's the one who took me to Wayne's. Bought me a hot dog to eat on the way, and I think it might've been the best fucking thing I've ever eaten. Even with the sore jaw the old man gave me for getting caught. He always said to never trust a cop, but Hop… he's saved my ass more than once. I guess…" Eddie stubs out cigarette #2 and chuckles. "I guess if you have to leave me for somebody, Hop's a decent choice."

You knock your knee against his, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. His eyes are shiny and tear-filled in the moonlight. Is it a crime to think he's beautiful like this?

"What can I say?" you grin. "I've got great taste in men."

Eddie snorts, shakes his head, and stands. He offers you his hands, and you take them and let him help you off the steps. When you stand, he pulls you in for a hug.

"Thanks," he mumbles into your hair. "For tonight. For everything."

You feel like something needs to be said, but you can't find the right words. Instead, you hold him tight and kiss the side of his neck. He melts into you. You stand there, stuck together on your back porch, until a shiver rips through your body.

"Jeez, make us stand outside in the cold all night and get sick, why don't ya," Eddie grumbles, pulling away and putting his hands on your shoulders. He turns you around and pushes you toward the door. "Get inside where it's warm, you crazy woman. You've gotta take care of me for the next 50 years, you don't get to check out early."

You laugh quietly and let him push you inside. You silently shed your jackets and shoes and return to your bedroom, snuggling into your clean sheets and holding onto each other for warmth.

Four days later, Wayne stopped by to tell Eddie that his old man was back in jail where he belonged. Unable to resist the sight of the bar across the street from the shitty motel he was staying in, he'd wandered over, drank too much, and picked a fight with the guy on the stool next to him...

Who happened to be an off-duty Indiana State Trooper, visiting Hawkins to have a drink with an old friend named Jim Hopper.

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: quarantine

I needed fluff, so I wrote some. Perhaps a little messy, but definitely fluffy, post-Firewalker. They're in quarantine and Scully is bored. Mulder isn't.

She expected him to get restless and irritable before the end of their first day in quarantine. It’s been five days now, and although he’s been pacing a lot and at times talked for fifteen minutes straight about random cryptids she’d never heard about before, he does seem to be handling this a lot better than she is. Most of the time, he seems almost content.

She can’t say the same about herself. There’s simply nothing to do and she’s bored out of her mind. Standing still gives her too much time to think, and that’s the last thing she wants to be doing right now.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, and when she looks up at him from her seat on her uncomfortable chair and meets his eyes across the tiny table they use for their meals, the corners of his mouth are twitching with a barely held-back grin.

“No,” she admits. “Sorry. What were you saying? Something about… banjos?”

“Banshees,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” She sighs.

“Come on.” He leans forward, arms folded on the table. “You can talk to me. There’s… actually not much else to do here.”

“Yeah.” She leans back with another sigh. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“You’re bored?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Well.” He shrugs. “Yeah. Of course I’m bored. We have nothing to do and nowhere to go and there’s absolutely nothing good on TV.”

“And we’re gonna be stuck here for several more weeks,” she points out, pushing herself up out of her chair to walk over to their single window. It’s completely dark outside. Time has lost all meaning. It could be late evening. It could be past midnight. It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

“It’s not so bad,” he says, and she twirls around to him.

“Mulder, there is nothing to do here. Nothing.”

“So we’ll come up with something,” he suggests, getting up and making his way over to her. He stands so close she has to lean her head all the way back to look up at him. She’s in her socks and he’s so tall. And he’s smiling. Something aches deep in her gut.

“Like what?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” He bites his lip and seems to think about it.

He’s so beautiful it hurts her heart. Being stuck here is bad enough. Being stuck here with him is torture. Ever since she came back, he’s been so attentive, so careful with her. She can feel him looking at her when he thinks she won’t notice. And he’s always there. All the time. As if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again. And she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows he wore her necklace when she was missing.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says at last, and that makes her laugh out loud.

“We can’t,” she reminds him. “We literally can’t, Mulder.”

“Sure we can.”

He takes her hand and places it in the crook of his elbow, eyes sparkling as he grins at her widely.

“What are you—” She shakes her head. “What are we doing?”

“I told you,” he says, “We’re going for a walk.” And then he’s leading her across the small room into the tiny hallway separating their bedrooms, where he starts walking them up and down the same few feet of space. She can’t help it, she dissolves into a fit of giggles after the third turn.

“Nice weather we’re having today, don’t you think?” he says, and she holds his arm with both hands and leans into his side, the sensation of laughter unfamiliar in her chest.

“You’re crazy.”

“So I’ve been told. Many times. By you, actually.”

“In the best way. I like it.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding pleased, and a little surprised. “I haven’t heard that before.”

She stops them in their tracks and steps in front of him. “You know I mean it like that every time, right?” she says. “If I ever—”

“I know, Scully,” he promises, and the smile in his voice convinces her that he’s telling the truth.

“Good. Okay.”

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks. “I’ve been told the view doesn’t change at all the further you go. Might be worth exploring.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The words slip out before she can stop them, and the happiness in her voice makes her blush. She didn’t mean to reveal that much.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I know the feeling.”

She lowers her eyes and doesn’t know what to say. It’s a new problem. They’ve always had an easy back and forth, even their arguments often comforting in a way she never properly understood. Suddenly, everything seems filled with too much meaning. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on her part. It’s just that she remembers the look in his eyes when he visited her in the hospital after she woke up.

“Hey, Scully?”

She nods, reluctantly lifting her head when he puts two fingers under her chin. “What is it?”

“I just want you to know…” He pauses for a second. “I just want you to know that I’d rather be in here, bored out of my mind with you, than healthy and having fun out there without you.”

“I, um.” She frantically searches for something to say, but he’s standing here, his fingers caressing her cheek now, and he is so warm and smells so good, and she simply can’t remember how language works for the moment.

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

“No,” she says quickly. “No, I understand. I… guess I feel the same way.”

“Oh.” There’s something so hopeful in his expression, and she gives him the tiniest nod, hoping he’ll understand.

And he does, of course he does.

She can’t remember any kiss ever feeling like this. His lips just rest against hers, lingering, unmoving, and she feels it all the way down to her toes. Her hands come up to cup his elbows and he takes her face firmly between his large, soft hands, and by the time he pulls back, the world has rearranged itself around them.

“Was that okay?” he asks, and she puts one palm over his rapidly beating heart.

“I think I just thought of a few things we can do while we’re stuck here,” she says.

“Yeah?” He slides his arms around her waist and pulls her closer. “Like what?”

She rises up onto her toes to kiss him again, and finds that another three weeks of this doesn’t sound quite so bad anymore.

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ GDRAGON AS YOUR HUSBAND!

୨ৎ pairing: husband!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! mild smut! & more fluff

୨ৎ from myeong: hi! thank you for requesting and I’ve been so excited to get this done for you! hope you can enjoy it x

ʚɞ GDRAGON VS JIYONG?

of course there’s a small difference here and there.. we are speaking about the gdragon himself! but he is still your caring, thoughtful, loving, affectionate, and kind man that you decided to marry hoping to spend the rest of your life with—which you will bc there is no way that he’s letting you go. never ever.

he’s the sweetest man. takes such good care of you and makes it his mission to get you whatever it is that you want or need—don’t even have to ask! if he knows you’re wanting something? you’ll have it.

will learn how to make your favorite dishes in an instant! say he’s not the best at cooking or maybe it’s just this particular meal? will go as far as taking a class just to learn how to make it the perfect way.

absolutely adores when you’re able to watch him on stage and no not just on the television he’ll want you at every concert or show he does. that’s when the king of k-pop comes out! but when the show is finished and his eyes find you? oh there is your cute and sweet jiyong again that’ll do anything for you.

a very touchy man he is—especially in the morning he’ll need to be wrapped around you. either his arm is wrapped around your waist or he’s got his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you closer to his warm chest, hearing the soft sound of his calm heartbeat that he always says “beats just for you.”

even when he’s in public with you and he is the gdragon himself.. he’s still your sweet husband and will always take care of you. he enjoys pushing his fingers through your hair and pulling you closer to him by your waist and looking down at you with a cute goofy smile on his face. nothing about this man changes just because you’re in public.

writes so many songs about you. the majority of them he won’t release and waits until he thinks they’re perfect to show you and he’ll call you into the studio for you to hear while you sit on his lap. he’ll stare up at you the whole time wanting to see your reaction and how you genuinely feel about it.

“what do you think, baby? I worked so hard on it and I just.. wanted to make it perfect for you—us.” his hand will be resting on your lower back and he’ll smile up at you from time to time just seeing how flustered you get from all of this. he loves that part.

not sure if this sounds weird! but I think it’s sweet and he’ll think it’s even sweeter but he enjoys slow dancing with you in the living room. picking out the perfect slow older korean song and grabbing you gently by the waist and slowly dancing with you even if you’re both not that good at it. it’ll be both a very romantic gesture and funny memory.

sometimes… you get gdragon in bed. he’s more rough with you but will always ask if this is okay first before he proceeds. sometimes he can’t help himself and craves you so badly that he becomes like a desperate animal in heat. his kisses are rough, hot, and messy against your lips while his hands roam your perfectly crafted body.

“fuck—you look so good underneath me like this. you always do.. such a perfect girl for me, hm? you like this don’t you? like it when I’m rough with you.”

he can go a few rounds. a few breaks in between to check on you and make sure you’re okay before he wants to go at it again. morning sex is also quite popular with him. he enjoys slow, romantic, and sweet morning sex. sometimes he’s a bit rough but he’ll apologize and ask if you’re doing okay.

you’re his passenger princess!! he’ll take you all over the place and rest his hand on your thigh, or grab at your hand and hold it like he’s never held it before and place soft pecks to your fingers. when stopped at stop lights he’ll take pictures of you before handing the phone over to you and asking to take pictures of him. he calls these ‘cute memories’

if you two get into an argument it won’t last. he doesn’t think it’s right to stay mad at you especially if the argument is such a petty one. he’ll break first and apologize and ask what he could do to make things better for the both of you. he enjoys being mature about it and handling things with care.

loves sharing his art with you and he eventually takes his art to another level and makes it all about you. pieces that he’s either worked on or just bought are strictly for you and he’ll wait for the perfect moment to show you and tell you about each piece and what it means for the both of you.

[poooooooooao3]

You must have room temperature IQ if that's what you got from that. Look at the date of the article, cum stain.

Oct. 9th 2023.

the quote from the same article:

Which goes against the claims that this was already occurring prior to the attack, which, according to your hamas butt boys, was the "reason" they attacked.

Any country any fucking where no longer has an obligation to feed, clothe, treat or care for the same people that attacked them. Would you criticise Ukraine (the Slavic bread basket) for doing the same thing after the Russian invasion? Probably not. Why?

The slaughtered people and kidnapped them. They still have a large number of them. What should Israel do? Roll over and say 'harder Sinwar'?

You think Gazans are helpless because of your bigotry of low expectations, and you think Israel is to blame because you're saying this part out loud with your actions.

You can't stop something that never started in the first place. Such as all the aid that was and now is going through Israel to Gaza. The cessation of goods was brief, but you'd know that if you were capable of looking for recent sources. I guess that does't fit your narrative though, am I right?

Anyway time moves the fuck on, and here we are, in 2025. We know more now, or at least the adults do.

Let me guess. Propaganda? Thanks for opening that door too, remember?

I addressed that here:

As for Genocide, it isn't. It's a war. The deaths, which have been obfuscated and inflated, are lower than is usual for urban warfare. Something you would know if you could get that useless lump of tissue between your ears to work without the cognitive dissonance.

Source 1

https://www.wsj.com/opinion/the-u-ns-anti-israel-genocide-purge-c8feef1a

It's giving, "I don't like your findings, Madame Expert, because they don't agree with my opinions." Kind of like you. Hey, you should ask they for a job. You'd fit right in.

As for the inflated and deliberately wrongly reported numbers?

That's right here, by an independent study group. Out of the UK.

Source 2

https://henryjacksonsociety.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/HJS-Questionable-Counting-%E2%80%93-Hamas-Report-web.pdf

Hmmm? If that's how they feel about their fellow Palestinian, manufacturing a 'genocide' for people like you, useful idiot that you are, seems to be in their best interest.

His father is Sheikh Hassan Yousef, a co-founder of the Palestinian Islamist organisation Hamas.

I guess you'll look him up on wikipedia though right? Bad idea.

That's okay for you though right. Hey, turn that frown upside down. There's good news you can trust.

Hamas is winning everything. You don't have to worry about your little genocide.

Anyway, been fun playing but you can crawl back into the hole you came from, toilet demon.

Israel being accused of deliberately starving Gazans.

Also Israel:

I will never get tired of how easily disproved these allegations are, yet the rest of the world when confronted with evidence by the literal truckload be like:

[airybcby]

Hello! I just read your “but my luck couldn't get any worse” and I’m obsessed with the crossover idea!

I would like to suggest Nagi with 🍓🍫

And if you cant get to it that’s totally okay ! I will be reading all the other ones anyways 🩵🥰

hi hi!!

a nagi seishiro chocolate covered strawberry :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° hang up, give up

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event !

♡ content — nagi seishiro x gn! reader, gn! reader, i leaned very heavy into nagi being lazy, pls know ik there's more to his character but this made the story flow better, unrequited love, reo mentioned a lot, reo has slight feelings for reader, reader kinda likes reo, mentions of nagi being unhelpful

♡ synopsis — nagi seishiro wasn't known for being the most productive person, but even your feelings for him can't stop you from wondering what life would be like if you were paired with someone else

You didn’t expect much when your name showed up next to Nagi Seishiro’s on the list of marriage simulation pairs.

If anything, it felt like a cruel joke.

Nagi wasn’t someone who made an effort in relationships—platonic or otherwise. You’d known that for years. And yet, despite everything, you’d fallen for him. Slowly. Hopelessly.

He’d always been so unattainable, a puzzle you could never solve.

So when the simulation started, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just a program. A grade.

But being in close quarters with him every day made it harder to pretend.

Nagi wasn’t exactly the ideal partner.

He spent most of his time sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone or playing video games.

“You don’t have to do anything for this to work,” he said once, when you suggested setting up a schedule for chores. “We can just...exist. Isn’t that easier?”

You bit your tongue, unwilling to start an argument.

It was so typically Nagi—avoiding effort at all costs. And yet, you couldn’t stop the small flicker of hope in your chest.

Maybe this was your chance to finally break through his walls.

One afternoon, Reo stopped by to check in.

He’d been your friend for as long as you could remember, always lingering on the periphery of your relationship with Nagi.

“Still alive?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“Barely,” you muttered, glancing over your shoulder at Nagi, who was curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

Reo laughed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You deserve a medal for putting up with him, you know that?”

You forced a smile, unsure how to respond.

Because lately, you’d started noticing the way Reo looked at you—the way he always seemed to be there when you needed someone.

And it terrified you.

The turning point came during one of the simulation’s mandatory couple tasks: a mock date night.

You’d spent the entire afternoon trying to get Nagi to engage, but he’d shrugged off every suggestion you made.

“Can’t we just skip it?” he mumbled, burying his face in a pillow.

“No, we can’t,” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “This is important, Nagi. Can’t you at least try?”

He sighed, sitting up slowly. “Fine. Whatever you want.”

But his indifference stung more than you cared to admit.

Reo was the one who noticed your mood the next day.

“You okay?” he asked, catching you in the hallway after class.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just tired.”

But Reo didn’t buy it.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to stress out about him. If you ever help to get him to start doing things, I’m here.”

For a moment, you felt a pang of something warm and unfamiliar—comfort, maybe.

And it scared you. Because no matter how kind Reo was, your heart still belonged to Nagi.

As the weeks went on, your feelings for Nagi only grew more complicated.

There were moments when he seemed almost...present. Like when he helped you carry groceries up to the apartment without being asked, or when he casually draped a blanket over your shoulders during a movie night.

But those moments were fleeting, drowned out by his usual apathy.

And through it all, Reo remained a constant presence in your life, always there to pick up the pieces when Nagi let you down.

On the final night of the simulation, you found yourself alone with Nagi in the living room, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken truth.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice soft.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m just...tired,” you admitted finally. “This whole thing—it’s been a lot.”

Nagi frowned, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t mean to make it harder for you.”

For a moment, you thought he might say more. That he might finally acknowledge the connection you’d been chasing all this time.

But instead, he stood up, yawning. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

When the simulation ended, you packed up your things and said goodbye to Nagi without looking back.

Reo was waiting for you outside, his expression a mix of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“You could have asked for help with him. I know he's kinda hard to deal with. ” he said again, his voice steady.

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Reo could be what you needed.

But as you walked away, your heart still ached for Nagi—for the boy who would never love you the way you wanted him to.

And you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to let him go.

i wrote this very late in the night and idk if i like it

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[shesoutofhere]

With Perfection Comes Obsession

Hockey James Potter x Figure Skater Reader

Summary- You're back in the rink, training for a medal you lost out on the year before. Nothing is going to get in your way this year. Or so you think.

Warnings- Description of a panic attack, Unhealthy habits

Wordcount- 10k

Translation: Lapin - Rabbit

Ignore all typos <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spin

“Again”

Spin

“Again

Spin

“Again”

You hit the ice just as aggressively as you did the time before that. You're finding it hard to breathe and everything aches. 

“Again Lapin!”

You pump your legs, moving them fast and hard. You're mid-jump when you hear the shrieking of the arena buzzer. Thrown off, your footing is off and you fall to your knees. 

You hear your coach scoff, moving to get off the ice. You get up, wincing at the sting in your knees, that’ll be a nasty bruise. 

When you walk off the ice, Coach hands you your blade covers. You mentally prepare yourself for the lecture you’ll receive when you return to the locker room. 

You feel a tight grip on your arm. Okay, looks like you’ll get your lecture right here.

“Lapin, If you get distracted by a buzzer, what makes you think you’ll be fine in an arena full of people? Have you learned nothing from your last performance?” 

She asks you questions but doesn’t give you time to respond, she immediately cuts in. “And your jumps, how is it that you haven’t managed to master your jumps? You are well past the age to be scared of falling. Your hesitation will cost you this title.” 

Silence falls over the both of you, Coach has her hands on her sides and just stares. You know what she's doing. She’s thinking of how you’ll be punished for this oh-so-horrible performance today. 

“Tomorrow you will march yourself to the management office and ask for an extended time.”  

Your eyes go wide, “Coach, they’ll never give me more time. And what about my professors? They’re already at their wits end with me being gone all the time.”

Coach’s eyes sharpen, “I’m sorry, have your priorities changed? Am I wasting your time Lapin? Cause if that’s the case then say so, and may we be free of this doomed partnership.”

You cower under her stare, “No, no of course not Coach, I’ll talk to management tomorrow and see what deal I can work up with my professors.” 

Pleased with the conversation going her way, Coach smiles. “Good, I’ll see you soon.” 

With that, she saunters off, reaching for her phone to call god knows who.

When you’re sure she’s out of eyesight you slump down onto the bench next to you. You close your eyes and take a minute to finally catch your breath. You bring your hand to your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the tightness and discomfort. 

The bench shakes and you hear something hit the ground with a thud. You open one eye and close it again when you see who it is who’s disturbed your peace. 

“How oh how will you ever convince management to give you any more practice time?” 

You sigh, hoping that if you ignore the nuisance next to you, he’ll get the hint and leave you alone. 

“They won’t even give the team extra time, let alone one person.” 

You open your eyes and turn to look at the boy sitting next to you. “I can be very persuasive.” 

James, who’s lacing up his skates, mumbles a quiet “Don’t I know it.”

You stand up and gather your things. “Who Knows James, win some games and maybe you’ll get the extra time you need.” 

James pauses his movement, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

 It’s a sore subject and you know it. After Peter Pettigrew, one of the university's star players decided to transfer, James and the rest of the team have been dethroned. They’ve known no peace since then and are grappling with everything to win this season. 

James turns back to his laces. “Hey and maybe if you learn to stop being so skittish on the ice, you’ll land that jump for once Lapin.” 

This is why you’ll never feel bad for being so hostile toward James. He’s a wolf in sheep's clothing and you lose your mind every day knowing that everybody has fallen for his golden boy act. 

You throw your bag over your shoulder, swatting at the back of James' head on your way out of the arena. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re pacing back and forth in front of the management office. You’ve gone over every possible excuse that could convince them to give you more time. You will convince them, or Coach will have your head on a platter. You’ll butter up the sweet old lady who works the front desk, you’ll dazzle her, and she’ll sign whatever she needs to. 

With one final pep talk, you walk into the office and freeze at the door. 

Shit. 

It’s not the sweet old lady. 

Sitting at the front desk is Remus Lupin. ‘This is fine’ you try to convince yourself.

You saunter up to the desk “Good morning Remus, you look fantastic today, do anything different with your hair?” 

Remus puts his book down, looking up with a sweet smile, “No, did the same thing I always do. How can I help you?” 

 You lean onto the counter and start messing with the pen jar. “You, my love, can sign off on my extra ice time.” you choose not to make eye contact, continuing to swivel the pens around the jar. 

Remus sighs, dragging your name out, “You know I can’t approve any more time for you, the school won’t allow it.” 

You stomp your foot out of habit, “ But Remus, I got all my professors to give me as many extensions as I need, really all I need is for you to say yes.” 

Remus, always bursting your bubble, “It’s not about class love, It’s about your health. You know how the system works.” 

You groan and bring your head down onto the counter. You knew this would be your biggest obstacle. All athletes have to adhere to certain rules. The university claims that it’s to protect the athlete's health but everyone knows it's so they don’t get backlash for overworking their student-athletes. You're allotted a certain amount of hours but anything over that has to be flagged and reported. 

“Listen,” Your head shoots up, “I can maybe convince them to a lot you a bit more time, but you’ve got to go to your physical therapy sessions. Doc has to report when you don’t show you know.”

“Okay yes, fine, I pinky promise that I will see Doc, and stretch and stay off the ice for 30 minutes after eating, and-” 

Remus cuts you off with a laugh, “Okay, okay I get it. I’ll talk to the board and see what I can do.” 

You squeal, reaching over the counter to smack a kiss on Remus’s forehead. “You are a lifesaver Remus Lupin.” 

Remus just shakes his head, “Yeah yeah, whatever, get out of here.” 

You happily skip out of the office, so happy, that not even running into James Potter in his gear could upset you. 

You offer a simple “James” and go to walk past him. 

“Woah, what's got you all happy?” 

You give him a sly smile, “Oh nothing, I’m just having a lovely morning.”

James furrows his brows at you, “Okayyy. Was Rem in the office?” 

You nod at him, “Yes, my sweet, beautiful, lovely Remus is in there. How he’s friends with the lot of you, I’ll never understand.”

James is insulted but is weirded out more than anything. 

Not caring to interact any further you wave goodbye. 

James, still confused, continues into the office. 

You don’t get far down the before James is yelling your name down the hallway. You roll your eyes, continuing on your way. You hear thumping and there’s a yank on your wrist. 

You yelp out of surprise. James without a word is dragging you back towards the office. You both enter and Remus is shaking his head. 

You rip your wrist out of James' grip, “I’d like that back thank you.” 

You smile at Remus, “Hi love, so good to see you again.” 

“Likewise.” 

James snaps his fingers, “Quit it you two, Remus just told me you’re getting more time on the ice.” 

“Why yes I am. I told you James, do better at your sport and good things come your way.” 

“Guys please don’t start. I don’t want to have to kick you out again,” Remus says.

James disregards your insult, “You can’t get more time, you’re already maxed out on hours, they’ll never approve it.”

You shake your head in faux symphony “Oh James, I told you I was very persuasive.” 

This seems to bring his attention back to his friend. “You” he points a finger aggressively toward Remus’s direction, “How could you say yes? You're the iron wall, no one shakes you down.”

Remus gives a weak shrug, “Okay, I wasn’t shaken down, we made a deal” 

James rolls his eyes, “Oh yeah, and what was that?”

“She’ll see Doc, every appointment, she has to go.” 

James looks confused. “How is that a deal? It's protocol.” 

“Wellll” Remus drags.

The look on James’ face darkens. His attention is on you now. “You don’t see the Doc?” 

You try not to be intimidated by his glare. “I just don’t see the point of seeing him after every practice. I mean come on, my body is my instrument, of course, I know how to take care of it.” 

Whatever lightness was in the air, is gone now. James is genuinely upset and you can’t wrap your head around why. 

“Are you kidding me, so what, you’ve just been skipping out on all your appointments?”

All you can do is shrug. Remus, who can sense the shift in the atmosphere, tries to intervene. “Look, I don’t even know if it’s a guarantee, I still have to ask the board.”

Your heart drops. “No. I need the time. You said you’d get me the time.” 

Remus, who has unfortunately been caught in both James and your fury, doesn't know how to turn this conversation around. 

“And what about your work, do you even go to class anymore?” 

“I’m doing great in all my classes.”

“That doesn't answer whether you're going.” 

“What does it matter? Virtual or not, It’s only until after the competition.” 

James takes his glasses off and rubs at his forehead like he’s trying to ward off an oncoming headache. “So, just like that, you get the time, extensions on school work, and a pass from all the appointments you missed with Doc.”

You sigh, “I don’t get it James, are you jealous, is that what it is?” 

This strikes a nerve in James. “You think that's what this is about?”

“Well” you throw your hands up, “what else could be?”

James puts his glasses back on and steps up to you, “You know what, if you want to overwork yourself and fuck up any chance you get at the actual competition, go ahead, seems like everyone is right behind you.” with that, James storms out the office. 

Remus walks out from behind the desk and gives a light squeeze to your shoulder, “I don’t understand why you two work each other up so much.” 

“He’s wrong,” you say quietly. Remus listens. “I’m better than I’ve ever been. I need this Remus, I need to win this. I need to show everyone that I can do it.” 

Remus, with a sad look in his eyes, pulls you in for a hug. “Everyone knows you can, you’re amazing.” 

You sigh and pull away. “It doesn’t matter how good I am, all everyone sees now is the girl who messed up last year. All my hard work was reduced to one stupid mistake. I have to get it right this time.” 

Remus just sighs, he’s seen this version of you before, and he doesn’t like where it’s going.

He grabs you by the shoulders, “Promise that you’ll go to Doc.” 

“Promise that you’ll get me my time.”

He sticks out his pinky, encouraging you to lock yours with his. You do. 

“Thank Rem” 

“Don’t make me regret love.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To everyone's surprise, the board does accept your request for additional time. You're ecstatic. Coach won’t show it but you know she’s semi-impressed. 

With the new time, the ending of your practice marked the beginning of the kid's ice class. Every time you did any sort of jump or spin you could hear a dozen little aws and wows. 

You felt fantastic, Coach was in a decent mood, and practice was long but the scary women had minimal feedback. For the first time in a long time, you felt on top of the world.  

“Okay, that’s enough for today.” 

You walk off the ice, putting your guards on. Coach gives you final pointers and is out of the building before you can say bye. 

You sat on the bench, undoing the laces of your skates when a group of the girls from before comes up to you. They flutter around you, asking all sorts of questions and giving endless praises. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t feel your heart swell with pride and joy. 

You're talking about costumes when you hear your name being called. Standing towards the entryway are Doc and James. 

You knew this day was going to well, you had forgotten that today was your scheduled appointment with Doc. As for James, every time you see him your day is ruined. The two of you hadn’t spoken since the whole incident in the office. Remus had tried to get the both of you to make amends but neither of you had the intention of doing so. 

You put your slipper on and make your way over to pair. 

“Hey remember me? Long time no see.” You know Doc is trying to be silly but your heart beating faster at the mere thought of having to get checked up. 

The bespectacled figure clears his throat. “Haven't you heard Doc, our ice princess got more ice time so she's been pretty busy.”

You cross your arms. Reaching a hand to rest on your sternum, feeling a slight tug at every breath you take. 

Doc disregards James petty comment, immediately picking up on your discomfort. “You okay?” 

James looks puzzled, glancing back and forth between the two of you, looking for whatever he missed. 

You shrug. “Yeah, it's just, well..you know.” Doc just nods. 

“Know what?” James blurts out. From the look on his face, you can tell that he didn't mean to say that out loud. 

You frown, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.”

“Okay, well it’s none of your business is it.” 

“OKAY,” Doc yells, cutting both of you off. “James I’ll do what we talk about, now move along.” 

James lingers for a bit before he finally walks off. 

“Now you” Doc starts, “Shall come with me.” 

You know that there isn’t any way to avoid this and follow right behind him. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doc makes small talk throughout your checkup. You give replies, trying your best not to come off like you don’t want to be there. 

You’re in the middle of doing a stretch when Doc says “So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” 

You lay on your back and bring a knee up to your chest, staring up at the ceiling. “Do we have to?”

Doc hums, “I think we should.”

You bring your leg down and lift the other to your chest “Okay, well then I guess.”

Doc stands at your side and offers a hand to bring you up from the ground. You sit on the ground and Doc sits in front of you. “I need you to know that what I did, was not only part of my job as your doctor but as someone who cares deeply for you lot.” 

You fidget with your fingers as Doc continues. “And I had to report the appointments that you were missing. I know you guys like to joke around with me but I am a healthcare provider before anything else and you can loathe me all you want but know my actions are never meant to harm you.”

Ugh, you feel like such an asshole now. “I don’t hate you Doc, I know you're just doing your job. I think-” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts, “I think in my head If I didn’t do my checkups, there wouldn’t be anyone to tell me that something could potentially be wrong.” 

Doc nods, and you continue “I should’ve listened to you back then, with or without the jump I would've lost anyway.” You say with a sad smile. “This time has to be different, I have to land that jump, I have to win this one.” 

Doc gives you an odd look. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk, you need to take care of yourself. I won’t watch you hurt yourself for this again, will you hate me then?”

You feel your body stiffen, you need this, so you think you might. 

“I mean it when I say this one is mine this year.” you have never been more serious in your life. 

“Oh trust me, I believe you.” 

It doesn’t have to be said, but you think that you and Doc might be a bit further apart than before. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re counting down the weeks. The competition is getting closer with each day that passes. You’ve spent more time at the arena over the past couple of weeks than you have in your dorm. 

Practice isn’t until later today, but you ambushed Remus when he was walking into the rink this morning. 

Now here you are, skating freely in the dimly lit rink. Remus gets horrible migraines and chooses to leave the lights off for as long as he can. 

You glide across the rink, twisting and turning whenever you please. Some time has passed when you come to a stop. All you can hear is the sound of your labored breath. You do your breathing techniques, trying your best to regulate your heartbeat. 

Your nerves spike back up when you see James skating towards you and feel speed. 

He halts right in front of you. “Are you okay?” 

All you can do is nod, not being able to form words quite yet. James doesn’t say anything else for a while. He watches and waits as you catch your breath. 

When you seem to have calmed down he jumps to question you. “What on earth was that?” 

You shrug, “I just got a bit winded I guess.” He blinks at you, “That's not the first time it happened though.” 

James, always so annoyingly inquisitive. 

“I’m fine James, where the hell did you come from anyway? The rink isn’t open yet.” 

You both kick into a slow skate around the rink. “That's rich, considering you’re here too. Also, you forget that Remus is one of my best friends.”

“How could I forget, you remind me every time I interact with him.” 

“Well, that's because I can’t seem to understand what hold you’ve got over him. He folds instantly when it comes to you. You know I had to beg him for 20 minutes to let me in.” 

You give a triumphant smile, “Remus and I have a bond that exceeds any and all relationship types, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

James scowls, ‘Stop talking about your special bond with Remus.” 

“Jealous?” 

“No!” James responded a bit too quickly. “More like deeply disturbed.” 

“Not as disturbing as you and Sirius,” you say, skating a bit faster to get ahead of him. 

“Hey! Don’t bring Sirius into this.” 

You tsk, “So quick to defend his honor. Tell him I’m still waiting on our date by the way.” 

“Oh please, Sirius goes on dates with anything that moves so don’t hold your breath.” Whatever honor and respect James had for his best friend earlier is out the window. 

You hum, not offering him a real response. James, changing the subject, “Was that a routine earlier?” 

“A routine with no music?” you ask sarcastically.

James rolls his eyes, “I'm just asking because it looked familiar.” 

Familiar? Why would it look familiar? 

“Spend your days off watching figure skating routines?” you say as you skate backward in front of him. 

He shakes his head, “No, just yours.” he doubles down quickly, “Well cause, we skate at the same rink and all that.” 

It’s too late, what he’s said has already gone to your head. You bring a hand to your heart mockingly, “The James Potter, Hockey legend, watches my routines. What an honor.”

James makes a face at you, “Oh whatever, forget I said anything.” 

You continue “I can’t believe I am skating with James Potter.” you say as you skate around him. 

James can’t help but laugh. “Okay quit it you’re gonna make me dizzy. God knows how you spin the way you do without throwing up.”

You continue at his side. “Years and years of practice.” 

“So, the routine, what's it from?” 

You let out a long sigh, “It was bits and pieces from my finals routine last year.” 

James says a quiet ‘oh’ 

“Mhm” is all you can offer back.

“I was there, you know?” James fidgets with his glasses. “Well, I mean, me and the whole team—half of the university, really.” 

This shocks you. You knew a lot of peers and locals from your university town showed overwhelming support, but for some reason, knowing James was there makes you…happy? 

“Well, you picked the worst one to turn up to.” You try to make a light-hearted joke, but it doesn’t work. 

James comes to a stop on the ice. You stop with him. “You really scared everyone.” 

You scoff, “More like disappointed everyone.” 

“No” James replies sharply, “I can assure you that no one in that arena was disappointed and you’ve got to stop thinking that.” 

You feel an argument brewing. “And what about you James? What did you feel? Please share with the gallery.”

“I-”  he pauses for a second. “I was scared too, and then I was angry.” 

“Angry?” 

He nods, “Angry. I was angry at you. I was angry that you’d attempt to do something so-” 

He cuts himself off, trying to restrain himself.

“Something so what James? Go on say it” You egg him on.

He yanks his glasses off his face, a habit he has when he’s frustrated. “Fine! Something so stupid. I couldn’t, for the life of me wrap my head around why you would purposely do something so stupid.” James doesn’t stop there. “I couldn’t understand why you would disregard Doc's orders. I was angry that you had such little regard for yourself and your body.” James throws his hands up,” and all for what?”  

You clench your fist tight at your side. You feel the anger flare up inside you. “All for what?” you laugh bitterly. “Is that how you see what I do?” 

James doesn’t respond. His silence only angers you more. “I did what I thought was necessary okay? I worked too hard all last year to just give it up. I made a mistake, I understand that, and I have spent every moment since then trying to make it up.”

You inch closer towards James, “Do you know how humiliating it is to have all my hard work be reduced down to one single mistake? I am perfect my whole career but the second I have one slip-up I'm stripped of all my wins, all my medals. Everything I’ve worked for, completely disregarded.”

James stares at you with wide eyes. “Is this what this is about? About ruining your perfect reign? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

You groan, “I could hold my tongue hearing this from anyone else, but you of all people James, Seriously? You are such a hypocrite.” 

James glares at you. “And what exactly are you alluding to?”

“You,” you say, shoving a finger in his chest, “are a hypocrite. You think I don’t see what you’ve been doing. Ever since Pete left you have been overcompensating, trying to fill a role all by yourself. The late night and early morning practices. Taking on extra responsibility on the ice. Spreading yourself thin to make it to nationals. 

“That’s different.” 

You laugh “How on earth is different James?” you can't believe this guy. 

“It’s different because It’s temporary until we find someone else. It’s different because I take care of myself. It’s different because it’s a whole team of us that care about each other. Yeah, I'm stepping up right now but I can always step back and rely on the guys if I need to. You, however, have..well you just don’t..” he sighs, “you’re alone.”

You back up from him, “You’re unbelievable.” you start skating to exit the rink. You hear James call after you. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever James, just leave me alone.”

“Would you just let me explain?” he desperately calls out. You swivel around the ice quickly, turning to face him. You have a snarky remark to give but it's out the window when James fully runs into you. Before both of you can catch yourselves, you both fall onto the ice. 

You yelp out in pain when James falls right onto your foot. He’s off of you quickly. “Holy shit are you okay?”  

You don’t answer, attempting to stand up. When you put pressure on your right foot, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle. James must see the pain in your face, “I'm so sorry I didn’t think you were going to stop. Let me help you back.” 

You shake him off, “No it’s fine, I’m fine.” you go to kick off the ice and the pain brings you to your knees. James reaches for you but you push his hands away.

No no no, this can’t be happening. You feel your heart start to pick up. You can barely hear James over the ringing in your ear. You stand up one more time, pushing off with your left leg this time. You make it somewhere but when you push off your right leg out of habit you double over in pain. 

You hear James grimace from behind you. “Alright, that's enough.” James wraps your arm over his shoulder and takes most of your weight. You can’t deny him, having no other way to get off the ice. He glides the both of you to the exit. The second your feet reach the matted floors you push away from him and limp to the nearest bench. You're pulling and tugging at your laces aggressively. When your skate is loose enough you yank your foot out, crying out in pain. You roll your sock down both you and James gasp. You throw the skate that’s in your hand.

You bring your hands to your eyes, feeling that annoying sting. “Fuck!” This is not happening. You did not just ruin your chances for this year because of one little accident. 

“I have to get Remus.” you grip James' wrist stopping him in his tracks. “Absolutely not!” 

James tries to pull his wrist from you but you bring your other hand to grab at it. “Don’t say anything, please. I promise I’m fine.” James looks at you bewildered, “Are you insane? Your ankle is purple.” 

“I bruise easily. I promise it's fine.” 

“Walk on it.” 

What. “What?” 

James shrugs, “Walk on it. Walk from here to those bleachers.” 

You go stand up, his eyes never leaving you. You take your first step and feel the same sharp pain you flinch but take your next step. You take step after step, pushing through the blinding pain. You make it to the bleachers and turn to face James. “See, it’s fine.” 

James stares at you in disbelief. He walks up to you “You are unbelievable.” He grits out. 

James leaves without saying anything else. Leaving you in the dark arena. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been three days. You managed to convince Coach to give you time off, telling her that you had some projects to catch up on. Pleased with your recent performance, she reluctantly granted you some free time. No practice meant no Doc visits. Three days and radio silence from James. You were so sure that he would've said something to someone by now but you aren't called in for any meeting or evaluations. 

Three days later and your ankle is still purple and throbbing. You’ve taken way too many painkillers for it to be safe but it’s your first day back and you have to act like you feel fine. 

You walk into the building. You put on a smile and are prepared to give the best performance of your lifetime. Coach is already standing by the ice. You go towards the locker rooms but you stop when she yells your name. 

She looks annoyed when you walk up to her. “Hey Coach” 

She puts her phone down. “Look, they are cutting into your time today because they have to get the ice ready for the game tonight. I’m going to need you to do a quick warm-up and get right into running the routine. Jumps and all.” 

You nod, “Yes ma’am.” 

You put your bag down on the bench and start getting ready. You’re lacing up your skates when you hear a chorus of laughter. You lift your head to see James, Remus, and Sirius all chit-chatting while exiting the office hallway. Sirius catches your eye and you’re too slow to look away. He’s caught you. 

“Lapin!” 

Oh god. 

You hear them make their way over. 

“Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in ages.” 

You yank tightly at your laces and wrap them around your ankle. “Oh don’t exaggerate. It was only three days.”

Sirius scoffs, slouching down onto the bench next to you. “Yeah, that’s forever for you. I feel like lately you’ve been here every day.” you roll your eyes at him. 

“I had schoolwork to catch up on.”

Remus hums, “Look at you. Working hard.” 

You lean back on the bench. “What can I say? Anyway, I’m back. Try not to stare too hard Sirius.” 

Sirius' shoulder bumps you. “Hey, what about Remus?” 

You stand up, “You my darling.” pointing a finger at Remus. “Can stare as long and hard as you’d like to.”

There is a slight tinge of pink on Remus’s face but he laughs it off. “Quit you two.”

Your attention turns to James clearing his throat. This whole time he hadn’t said anything, just staring at you, analyzing your every move.

The two of you stare at each other, tension thick in the air. He drags his eyes slowly down your body. Any other person would think he has no shame but you know it’s nothing like that. You know exactly what he’s looking for. James' eyes linger on your ankle, mostly hidden by your skates. 

James tilts his head, “Hmm” 

Sirius and Remus, having no idea what's going on, simply stand there. 

“Hmm? That’s all you're gonna say?” 

Jamea shrugs. “What else is there to say? Everythings fine.” 

For the past three days you’ve done nothing but worry about James snitching on you. It’s brought you nothing but stress and anxiety. Why hasn’t he said anything?

You open your mouth to say something. “Yeah sure everythi-”

“Lapin! On the ice. Now!” 

James continues staring at you. If he thinks you’re going to crack, he’s going to be waiting for the rest of the day. 

You walk away with as much ease and poise as you can. 

The pain in your foot isn’t gone. You’ve got a purple bump to prove it but you’ve taken enough pain meds to hold off some of the pain for now. You skate around the ice, warming up. Every time you kick off you feel the twinging pain but do your best to ignore it. Coach doesn’t let you warm up for long. 

“Lapin, run the routine.” 

You’re heart drops, you didn’t think she’d get straight into it but she must want to take advantage of the time you had on the ice. 

You take a deep breath, already feeling the normal burning sensation in your lungs. You get into position. You steady yourself into your starting pose. You lock eyes with James. They’re all leaning onto barriers. Neither of you breaks eye contact. Finally, you hear the starting notes of your music and begin. You kick off beautifully, moving across the rink in a matter of seconds. You glide elegantly across the ice. The music begins to swell, the first jump is coming up. You breathe in, brace yourself, and jump. You spin, almost landing perfectly. There is a bit of wobble but nothing you can't make up in the next couple of jumps. You continue your program. You jump again. Spinning and landing. This one is perfect, no wobble. You keep moving, swelling with pride. You can’t see anyone but the lack of yelling lets you know that Coach is somewhat satisfied with the jumps. You push on, beginning to feel the pain in your foot. You ignore it as best you can. It’s when you're landing your third jump that the pain shoots up through your ankle. It leaves you breathless for a second but you compose yourself. You skate, you skate and skate and skate until you hear yelling over the music. 

“Get her off the ice right now!” 

You bring yourself to a stop. You look over to the commotion and see the coach with Doc. Standing right next to both of them is James. 

You stay on the ice, trying to catch your breath. 

It’s Coach's turn to yell at you. “Lapin, come here right this instance.” 

Your heart continues beating quickly. You make your way over and when you're at the exit, Coach is pulling you by the arm, heading straight for the benches. 

“Sit.” 

You look between her and Doc, you can’t even bear to look at James. 

“What on Earth is going on?!” 

“Take your skates off!”

“Excuse me?”

“Skates. Off. Now.” 

You reach to slowly start untying your skates. It doesn’t matter how slow you move. They all sit and wait.

Once they’re both off Doc kneels and reaches for your ankles immediately.

“Woah what the hell are you doing?”

“Which one James?”

Your head snaps towards James. You’re caught, you know it, but if James says something now you’ll hate him for the rest of your life. 

James must see it in your face. He’s silent for a second.

“Which one is James? I'm not going to ask again.” 

James looks away and answers. “The right one.” 

Without another second wasted, Doc is yanking your sock down, revealing a swollen purple ankle. Both Doc and Coach gasp. 

“Lapin, what the hell were you thinking?” 

You scramble to save this. “It’s not as bad as it looks! I promise!”

You look between Coach and Doc and all you see is pure disappointment. Coach runs a hand through her hair.

“Why? Why are you so adamant about hurting yourself? Do you not realize that you could mess this up beyond repair. What will you do then?”

Your eyes start to sting and you feel them watering up. “I didn’t mean to. It was a stupid accident.”

“Well, that’s exactly my point. You are a star athlete. What are you doing having stupid accidents? You are meant to be taking care of yourself.”

You feel the tears begin to fall. “Oh, now you care? Where was this lecture when you let me skate last year? Or how about all the times I skipped my appointments? How many appointments did you let go unattended? How many times did you look the other way?” 

You stare at your coach in anger and she looks right back at you with a look you can’t place. 

Doc cuts in. “We need to get it checked out.” You go to stand up and Doc tries to help you immediately. “You really shouldn’t be walking on it.” 

“I’ve been doing it just fine.” 

Doc shakes his head and reaches to help again. “I mean it. I don’t want you walking on it. James can you come hel-” 

You cut him off immediately. “Absolutely not. I said I’m fine. I can walk by myself.” 

Realizing that he can’t stop you, Doc lets you start making your way to his office. James follows behind immediately, calling you names. You ignore him but he won’t stop. He grabs your arm. You hear him quietly beg “Please, can you just listen.” 

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “I never want to hear from you again, James Potter. I hate you.” you spit out venomously. James displays a clear look of hurt. You leave him there, making your way down the hall alone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a thorough investigation, Doc diagnoses you with a bad sprain. It would have been fine if you had sought medical help immediately, or so he says. You don’t speak if you don’t have to, only offering quiet yes’s and no’s. 

Doc is finishing up when you do finally speak a full sentence. “When am I cleared to skate again?” 

Doc sighs, like who knew the question was coming. “Well, that’ll be up to you.”

He moves around the room, gathering things for your kit while speaking. “You wanna get better fast, you’re gonna have to take care of that ankle.” he walks over, handing you the kit and paperwork. “That means no agitating it, no skating, and definitely no competition.” 

You knew this was coming but hearing it breaks your heart. You feel your eyes start to water again. 

“Look,” Doc starts. “I'm really sorry. I knew how much this meant to you.” His words go in one ear and out the other. You silently stand up and grab all your things. You can’t bear to be in this rink anymore. You reach for the newly prescribed crutches and adjust yourself. Doc watches silently. You whisper a quiet thank you and goodbye. You make your way out of the building, trying your best to ignore all the stares. The rink, now busy with people waiting for the upcoming game. 

Everyone pushes to get in when you want nothing more than to get out. Every look you receive is filled with pity that you don’t want. You finally make it out, trekking through the parking lot to get to your car. Once you're in you turn it on and drive in silence. When you're in your dorm you head straight to bed. Holding onto one last hope that all of this is just a dream. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You know you shouldn’t be here. Well, technically nothing is stopping you from being here. But with Coach currently giving you the cold shoulder, Doc banning you from skating, and James on your hate list, Coming to the rink might not be the smartest of ideas. 

That is why you are here right now, at night. You’ve been out for over a week and feel like you’ve been going stir-crazy in your room. Technically the rink is closed. It has been for the past three hours. However, you know Burnie, the maintenance man, doesn’t leave until a while after. 

You’re shaking in the cold when you see him walk out the front, going to lock it. He smiles when he sees you. You can't help but smile back. “Hey Burnie.” 

“Hey sweetheart” He greets you with just as much enthusiasm as always. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I forgot a couple of things in the locker room. Thought it might be time I come and get it.” 

He eyes you suspiciously. You can’t help but laugh. “Burnie I promise I’m just here for some things. Look, no bag, no skates,” you say as you spin in a circle for him.

He reaches to steady you. “Woah okay now. Be careful on that foot.” he sighs. “Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna trust you on this, run in and grab your things and I’ll wait for you right here.” 

“What, Burnie no. I'm not gonna make you wait out here in the cold. Plus you shouldn’t have to stay a second later. I already feel bad keeping you right now.” 

Burnie’s still wavering. You sigh. “Look Burnie, I’m in a boot and I don’t know if you know this but these are a pain to take off. Both literally and physically. I just need to grab my things but I don’t want you waiting out here on me when you could be halfway home.”

“Fine. You’ve convinced me. Don’t let me find out that you were skating or we're gonna have some problems, sweetheart.”

You giggle pointing at your boot. “Burnie, I already told you I can’t.” 

He waves a hand, walking away. “Knowing you? You’d find a way. There are keys in Remus's desk. Lock the front door when you're done.” 

“Sir yes Sir.”

You make your way into the lockers, finding your bag of things that you always leave here. You grab it and walk out to the rink. You slump down onto the bench. You start rummaging through your bag. You smile as you find all sorts of knick-knacks. 

You pull out what you were looking for, your old skates. You smile fondly as you remember the skating you did in them. Your happiness morphed into sadness when remembering the people who bought you the skates. You hadn’t seen your parents since you moved out to college. Your skating was too mediocre for them to fly out and watch. You remember every single time they turned down your invitations, telling you it would be “A waste of time”.

 How could that be? You had everyone telling you you’re the best skater they’ve seen in ages. You have a world champion for a coach. You have so many people coming out to watch you. How can you have all of that and it still not be enough to make your parents see you? 

This is why you had to be fantastic. You were supposed to be perfect this year and the last and you ruined it. You still hadn’t told your parents about your injury. You could still hear your mother on the phone from last year. The disappointment, the lack of worry for her child, and worst of all, her deadpan voice muttering into the phone, “What did we expect, knowing you.” 

You’re squeezing the skates tightly, you feel your breath pick up. You pinch your eyes shut. Nonono this cannot be happening. You know this feeling all too well. You put your hands over your ears and bring your head down. You feel the familiar tightness in your chest. You try to breathe in and out but your airways feel constricted. You sit up and start rummaging through your bag looking for an inhaler. You find one and pull it out, panicking more when you realize that it’s out of pumps. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Hearing the heavy thump over and over again. You get up. You know you have one in your car, you just have to make it out there. 

You start walking, trying your best to slow down your breathing. You can start to see the light coming from the front when you hear someone unlocking the door. You walk around the corner, fully expecting to see Burnie who’s come back to kick you out. You freeze when the person turns around. 

You and James both stop in your places both gasping in shock. 

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me,” he says with a hand over his heart. 

You don’t have time for James, so you walk right past him. James takes your silence as an insult.

“Are you still ignoring me?” you don’t answer, you fumble to get the keys out of your pocket. Reaching to unlock the door. When you do, you book it out to the parking lot. You can hear James following you. 

“Seriously, you don’t show up for a week and then I find you here in the middle of the night. What were you doing anyways?” he continues behind you. James' tone changes, seeming to land on the only possible explanation. “You were skating weren’t you?” you get your car keys out of your pocket and start clicking on the unlock button over and over again. 

“God” he scoffs, “You’re insane. That has to be the only explanation.” whatever else James says you can’t hear. The pain in your chest is unbearable and you start to cough at the lack of air in your lungs. The cold makes every sharp inhale burn. You finally make it to your car and swing the back door open. You jump in, yanking your bag out from under the seat. You dig through it and pull your inhaler out. You bring it to your mouth and inhale instantly.  

You sit up, breathing in. Your eyes are closed but you can hear James' shoes scuff to a stop right outside your open door. You stay like this for a while. You finally feel your heart start to slow and the burning in your chest is subsiding. You open your eyes and see James staring back at you with wide eyes. 

“Holy shit you have asthma?” 

His complete 180 in emotions gives you whiplash. 

“Yes you dickhead, I have asthma.”

James completely disregards the insult. “You had asthma this whole time. That's what Doc was asking about right? Or that time on the ice? When you get winded?” 

You just nod.

“Yeah, you’re definitely insane.”  you lean forward to smack his arm. “Quit calling me crazy!”

James rests a hand on the top of the car, leaning in, getting a better look at you in the back seat. 

“I’m not calling you crazy. I’m calling you insane.” 

You cross your arms. “So what, I have asthma. Plenty of athletes have asthma,” you say, looking up at him. 

James runs a hand through his hair. “That isn’t the point. I just wish- If you could just-” Without another word he’s getting into the backseat, pushing you over to make room for him. 

James clears his throat. “Listen, I’m going to say something and I need you to listen.”

Whatever you're about to say, James doesn’t let you. “Promise. Promise you won’t say anything until I’m finished talking.”  You stare down at James' hand, pinky extended, waiting for yours. 

You wrap your pinky around his. He drops his hand but keeps his finger interlocked with yours. You don’t pull away. 

“I think you should take a break from skating.” 

 You roll your eyes. You push away from James but his pinky tightens around yours. 

“Wait! You promised you’d listen.”

He’s got a desperate look on his face. “I watch you.” 

“James what?”

“Okay no, but yes.” He clarifies. “God I’m really bad at this. What I want to say is that I notice you okay? The second you started skating here I noticed you.” 

“You are frustratingly good on the ice. You’ve gotten title after title and it's got everything to do with you” James looks down, fidgeting with your joint pinkies. Ears red. “But ever since your incident last year you’ve gotten so…” he trails off looking for the right word. “Aggressive” 

“You’ve gotten so aggressive with your technique, on the ice, and with yourself. There’s something different about you. Everyone thinks it's a newfound determination but I can see it in your eyes, it’s something else. You skate with no regard for your body. What happens when you push it too far? What happens when you force yourself so hard that your body gives up on you? What will you do then?” 

The silence is heavy over you both. You look at James and he looks back at you with so much emotion, searching for an answer.

You let out a shaky breath. “What am I if I can’t skate? Can you tell me, James?” 

He stumbles over his words, clearly thrown off by your question. He comes up blank. 

“Exactly. Skating is all I have, it’s all I am.”

James shakes his head. “No, that isn’t true.”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “Do you think I’d be here right now if it weren’t for my skating? I’m here because it’s what I'm good at. I have so many people betting on me, so many expectations to uphold, so many people to prove that I’m worth it.” 

James leans in closer and speaks gently. “Why do you think that you aren’t already the best? Why is it so hard to believe that you are amazing at what you do?” 

His gentle tone does little to comfort you. He doesn’t get it. “If I’m so great how come my parents won’t come to see me?” you yell, your tone coming off harsher than you had intended. 

You recognize the emotion behind James' stare, it’s pity and you hate it.

You can’t bear to look at him, embarrassed by your outburst. 

“Hey,” you keep your gaze towards your lap. 

“Hey, look at me.” you feel his hand come under your chin as he lifts your face to meet his eyes. 

He unlatches his pinky from yours and brings his hand up to hold your face. 

“Is that what it is, you feel like you’ve got a crowd to appeal to? Well, guess what? You don’t owe anyone anything. You skate because you love it not because you feel the need to meet intangible expectations. If your parents can’t see how good you are then that's on them, you don’t need them.”

You groan and reach for his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. “That's easy for you to say.” 

James furrows his brows at that, “What’s that supposed to mean.” 

“You have your parents here offering you endless support. No offense, but you could sit out an entire game and they’d still whoop and holler about how proud they are of you. You have a team that worships the ground you walk on. You have Remus and Sirius. What do I have? Who do I have? Coach?” You raise a hand to wipe away your tears but it’s no use. “I’m a thousand miles away from everything and everyone that I love. Being good, no, being fucking fantastic is the only way to get their attention. So if that’s what I need to be then so be it.” 

You let out one shaky breath and it all breaks loose. You bury your head in your hands, trying to muffle whatever mess you look like from James. After a short moment of sobbing into your hands, you feel hands pull at your arms. Before you know it, James is pulling you into a warm embrace. 

The angle is a bit awkward, considering the size of your backseat but he still manages to get his arms wrapped around you. Your head lands on his chest, ear pressed against it. You stiffen at first but slowly wrap your arms around him. You both sit in silence. He gently runs a hand up and down your back, while the other rests on the back of your head, holding it. You listen to the beat of his heart, which moves rapidly. You can’t help but smile slightly. Despite being the one to make a bold gesture, he’s the nervous one. 

“You aren’t as alone as you think.” 

“What?” You go to lift your head but James pushes it back onto his chest. Heart beating quicker.

“You're Not alone. You have Sirius and Remus, just as much as I do if not more. They adore you a little too much. And whether you believe it or not you have Doc and just about everyone else who you cross paths with in the rink.” 

He clears his throat for the next one. “And you have me.” 

It’s said so quickly you almost miss it. You’re sure you would’ve if you weren’t so close to him.

You go to lift your head again but he pushes it back down. You groan. “James.”

He doesn’t respond. You go to move but he holds you in place again. “James Potter, let me look at you.” 

He doesn’t budge, “I’d rather you didn’t” 

“James, if you don’t let me move, so help me god.” 

Your tone seems to do it. His hand slips from where it rested on your head. Once you get a good look at him, you almost laugh at the sight in front of you. James Potter, Red in the face, with a look of embarrassment so bad, he could die. He looks everywhere but at you. Eyes darting around the car.

“James”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

He does for a second and then looks away.

“James,” you say sternly.

“Yes?” He says picking at the seats.

Without putting much thought into it you smack both hands on his face, forcing him to look at you. You seemed to surprise him more than yourself. James stares at you with wide eyes. You’d done it without thinking and how you have no course of action. 

You both blink at each other. 

“What was it that you said just now?” 

He doesn’t turn away this time. That's progress. “What were we talking about?” he says with a dazy voice. You look at him expectantly. James, who realizes he has nowhere to go, blurts it out. 

“I said that you have me. There. Happy?” he doesn't stop there. “I said you have me because you do. All the time, every day I'm thinking about you, which is crazy considering how much you berate me. But that must be it. I must be crazy because I love it all the same. I care about you, even though half the time you make me want to slam my head into a locker, I care. So, yes, you have me.”

Through your hands, you feel the heat of his face. Despite the strong blush and red ears, James looks at you so earnestly that you can’t help what comes next. 

Hands still on his face you pull him forward into a kiss. He freezes and you pull away. Just for a split moment, you worry that you made a mistake. But before you know it James surges forward, reconnecting your lips. Whatever hesitation there was before, is gone now. 

His lips move against yours slowly, tentatively, exploring. You feel a finger trace the line of your jaw. Then the hand slips behind your head, bringing you closer. The sweet kiss now deepened with the hunger shared between you both. You raise your arms to wrap around his neck. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t stop.

With his newfound confidence, James moves forward. Your back hits the seat and James hovers over you now. He moves to lay himself over you. You feel his hand running up and down your side. You gasp into the kiss when a cold hand slips under your shirt, resting on your bare waist. James groans at the feeling of your bare skin, squeezing your side. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t want to stop, ever. But the more James runs his hands over you and kisses you with an insatiable passion, the less you can breathe.

 You ignore it at first, but the aching in your chest only gets stronger. You feel like you’re drowning, and you decide that hyperventilating while making out isn’t the way to go so in one swift motion you sit up, pushing James off of you. 

You breathe in harshly. James now sits up straight, staring at you wide-eyed, glasses askew. You laugh but it sends you right into a coughing fit. You start to panic a bit and search for your inhaler. James snaps out of his daze and seems to get the memo. After what feels like forever, James lifts the inhaler. “Got it” he yells triumphantly. 

Snatching it from his hand, you take a couple of puffs, breathing in and out slowly. 

“Woah. I guess you could say I took your breath away.” 

You shoot him a look but can’t help but burst out laughing. James' laugh follows.

“No, seriously though. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit winded.”

James smirks, seemingly a bit too proud. “Sorry about that,” he says with fake sympathy.

“Sorry about what? Trying to eat my face off or trying to take me in the back of my car?”  

James' face goes bright red. You don’t understand how he can be so confident yet so easily embarrassed.  

“I-I okay, woah, I-” He stutters over his words.

“Gosh James, I thought you’d have a bit more class than that.” 

He scoffs, “I have plenty of class and I don’t think I heard any complaints from you.” 

You shrug, “Could’ve been better.” 

James' jaw falls open in disbelief. “Oh really now.”

“Yup” 

Before you know it he’s bringing you down to your back and you let out a yelp of surprise. 

“Well since you’re so great I guess you’ll have to help me practice.”

You hum. “Oh yes, you’ll need all the practice you can get.” 

James lets out a loud laugh, making your heart flutter. “Yeah, well let's hope you don’t have to reach for your inhaler every 5 minutes.”

You smack his shoulder. “Hey! I am a star athlete. I don’t think a little acti-” 

James cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. This time it's soft and sweet. James pulls away. “Talking to you is going to be a lot easier now that I can do that.”

“Keep talking and that’ll be the last time you get to do that.”

James nods quickly. “Yes ma’am. Message received.” 

With a nod from you, James is back on you. He leans into you heavily, moving his lips with yours. You reach up for his glasses, feeling them start to dig into your face. James' hand comes to your wrist, stopping you. Pulling away, he rushes out a ‘wait!’

You look at him confused. “What?”

“Don’t take them off.”

“James, as much as I love your glasses, they’re digging into my face.” 

James blinks at you with a slight pout on his face. “I can’t see anything when I take them off.”

“Okay?” 

He sighs, “I can’t see you when I take them off.” 

You roll your eyes at him. “James Potter you are such a sap.” 

He rolls his eyes back at you. “Yeah, well you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I suppose I will. Okay they can stay on”

James smiles brightly. “Yay! Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

And who are you to deny him?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, you guys did great today! Don’t forget to tell your parents that there won't be any classes next week.” you hear a chorus of answers promising they will. Considering you’re talking to a bunch of toddlers, you make a mental note to send out an email. 

You guide them off the ice and towards their parents, waving bye to them all. 

You’ve been helping teach the toddler class while their coach is out of town. Doc hadn't fully cleared you but gave you the green light to teach the little ones.

You make your way towards the office to drop off the sign-in forms. When you walk in, you’re greeted by a smiling Remus. 

“Hello, love. How are the tots?”

You give him a tired smile, “Rambunctious as always.”

Remus laughs, taking the papers from you. “You think you’d take this opportunity to get away from this place but no.”

You lean forward on the counter. “And miss out on seeing you every day? No way.” 

Remus shakes his head, turning away from you. Ears slightly pink. “You’re insufferable.” 

Before you can respond you hear someone else enter the office. More like two someones.

James and Sirius walk over to where you’re talking to Remus. James' eyes shift from you to Remus’ red ears and then back to you.

“Hey, I thought I told you to stop flirting with Remus.” He says with a slight frown. 

You shrug, “I’ve done no such thing.”  

James rolls his eyes. “Yeah right. Liar.”

Sirius and Remus erupt in laughter as James pouts. 

Sirius ruffles James' hair. “Oh James, it’s sweet that you think you can stop whatever it is they’ve got going on.” 

James huffs, pointing at Remus. “You’ve got to stop whatever alluring charm you’ve got going on.”

Sirius laughs harder. Remus gives James a cheeky smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just myself.” 

You swoon dramatically at his words. “Oh, Remus.” 

“Hey! No, don't swoon!” James says, looking frantically between the two of you. 

Remus and Sirius roar in laughter at his reaction. 

With the other two still laughing, James walks over to you. You give him a sweet smile. 

He frowns at you. “Why do you insist on giving me a hard time?”

“Someone's got to keep you on your toes, humble you a bit.” He glares at you but breaks into a smile of his own. 

With Sirius and Remus now wrapped up in their own conversation, James leans in a bit closer. 

“Hm, humble me? How can I be humble when you’re praising me all the time when we-” You slap a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously. You feel him smirk against your hand. 

He reaches for your wrist, pulling your hand away, giving it a soft kiss. “How were the lessons?” He says changing the subject.

“They were great. Lenny didn’t cry at all this time.” 

He gives you an encouraging pat on the waist. "Nice, and what about your foot?” 

You shrug, “It feels fine. I think stretching before ice time helps.” 

James smiles. “You’ve been doing the stretches?” 

You nod. He gives you a high five “That's my girl.” 

He goes silent, looking between you and his friend's chit-chatting. He leans in, whispering into your ear. 

“Hey, when's your appointment with Doc again?”

You think for a minute. “Um, not till this afternoon, why?” 

“So you’re free right now?”

“Yeah”

“What a coincidence, so am I.” He says with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

A moment pauses.

“Well. What are you waiting for?” 

James springs into action. His hand grabs yours, leading the both of you out of the office. 

“Hey, where are the two going?” 

Without turning around James yells out “Practice” You can’t help but laugh at the confused responses you get from Sirius and Remus. 

James continues down his path, determined.

“Wait James, what about my bag and my-”

He pats the side of his bag. Hanging from a chain is one of your backup inhalers. You stare at him in shock. With a quick kiss on the forehead and a cheeky smile, James continues to drag you both out of the rink. 

Practice does ensue. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A present to you all for being MIA.

I pinky promise I'm working on the Peter series!

[xxmooxmooxx]

irritable. ~ s.r. x fem reader.

MDNI 18+ ONLY

- told from spencer’s pov

prompt: Spencer accidentally sees y/n secret nsfw twt account and is struggling dealing with working along side her now.

warnings: angry Spence, nsfwtwt, mentions of sex, sex toys, perv! Spencer if you squint your eyes, age gap, lmk if im missing anything :)

a/n: BLURB! not a v long story. my first Spencer fic AND my first time writing smut. NOW reader and Spencer don’t hookup in this but it’s talked about quite a bit so proceed with caution loves. gimme feed back pls!!!! Lmk if you’d want a pt 2!!!

“i can't fucking do this, y/n. We have a lot of work left to do on this case.” I say getting out of my seat and walking towards the office door. It’s just too much right now. We’ve gotten nowhere close to finding this god awful unsub. Then here is y/n smelling like cocoanut and vanilla. Looking at me… no searching my eyes for answers I don’t have. And her hair? God. It’s down. Unlike most days where she wears it pulled back.

“Spencer! What the fuck? You told me if i needed to confied or talk to someone to go to you? If thats no longer okay then just tell me. You don’t have to talk to me like this.” She says getting out of their chair and stepping in my path to the door.

Shes right. I am being a complete an total ass right now. It’s not her fault. When she started last year I did tell her to come to me and she has taken me up on that offer lots of times and I've never minded it. I don't mind it. At Least I didn’t before… I look down defeated and sigh before looking at her. “You’re right. I apologize. Please, excuse me.” I take a step to the door.

“Reid…” She grabbed my arm looking up at me. “Please. What’s going on?”

I jerked off and came multiple times to your secret twitter account, y/n. I have your body engraved into my brain. I know exactly what i’d have to do, where to touch, how to touch, where to lick and suck now from watching the videos of you playing with yourself. I cant look at you let alone work with you, without wanting to take you into an empty office and showing you all the many things about your perfect fucking body I have learned and memorize. God even now during this stressful case all I can think of is fucking you so hard over this table that you cant remember what you came in here to ask for in the first place. But I can’t say that.

“I’m… fine. Okay? Many daily things in our lives especially in this field can cause irritability, for example: we’ve been on this case for 48 hours, we’ve gotten nowhere close to a profile, no idea how to stop this unsub, exactly how many victims he has so far, which means there's gonna be more innocent people dying. So, if I'm irritable that may be the reason. Now if you excuse me i need to go look the files we found on Amy Cassandra and Olivia Hidmen.” And with that, she let me go and I made my way out.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long week we are finally back home. I avoided y/n as much as I could which is the only way to deal with this until I can figure out how to move on. Then of course… once we get home going out to “split” the teams favorite local bar was suggested. We all agreed to meet up in an hour, giving ourselves time to go home and get ready.

I was sitting at our usual table with Derek and Emily when y/n walked in talking with Hotch. Fuck. me. She was wearing a short, silk, black dress that was hugging her body perfectly. Her hair was down framing her face perfectly and she was wearing her glasses. Last time i saw her glasses, they were on her bed side table in the background of the video she posted, showing off her new toys a sex toy company sent her. My thoughts are interrupted by her looking at me. I can't. I turn to Emily and Derek asking to be excused before walking past y/n and out the bars glass doors.

She’s your coworker, spencer. Not only is she a coworker, shes damn near 10 years younger than you, sees you as a mentor, and trusts you. What the fuck have I done.

“Reid!” i hear yelled from behind me.

No no no no… I turn to see her jogging towards me.

“y/n please go back inside.”

“No.”

“y/n…”

“Spencer, please stop.”

“No. y/n. You. please stop. Leave me alone and go back inside with the others…” I turn to walk away. After a few paces I hear:

“I saw.”

I pause in my tracks. Looking down at my feet. I’m fucked. I take a deep breath before turning and walking back to her. “You saw what?” I say looking down at her. My voice coming out deeper than intended.

“You liking and unliking one of my post on twitter.” She says softly and almost unsure.

I dont break eye contact. I’m frozen. What am i suppose to say to that?

“Spencer, please don’t tell anyone. I’m-”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t planning on talking to anyone about this.”

“Oh… okay…” A few more moments of silence. “I’m really really fucking sorry you saw that, no one i know in person was ever meant to see it. I just do it for fun and…”

‘I cant be having this conversation right now.’ i think to myself as she continues to ramble. “y/n. Stop.”

“... i know youre probably mortified…” she continues.

“Stop.”

“... I just dont wanna lose you-”

“y/n!’ I say louder than intended as i grab her shoulders trying to get her to listen to me. Shes staring wide eyed at me, silent. I losen my grip and lead her to a near by empty stairwell. I let her go and brush her hair off her shoulders and try to straighten the straps of her dress that was underneath my hands.

“Now…” i start calmly. I see her relax more and start looking at me with curiosity. “y/n, you have no reason to be apologoizing to me. You-” i stop myself to think before i let more rambling come out of my mouth. “I should be the one apologizing to you.” I say taking a step back attempting to give her some space.

“For what?” She asked genuinely.

“For invading your privacy. I saw your account and I was intrigued then after a few moments of analizing i realized it was you. I shouldve clicked away immediately but I didn’t, I kept scrolling and looking and I’m so sorry, y/n. You’re an amazing person, agent, and friend and I’m someone you trusted and i-”

“Did you like them?” she asked bluntly looking up at me.

Spencer. Stop. you cannot entertain this.

“Yes.” I answered searching her eyes for any signs of regret or disgust.

None to be found.

She takes a step closer to me making our hight difference extremely noticeable. “Spencer,” she started softly. The sound of my name on her lips going straight to my cock. “Did you touch yourself to me?”

“I did.”

She searches my face almost the same way i did hers moments ago before she yanks me into her by my tie our lips meeting and her pulling away before I could even register what happened. I look at her as if asking if she's sure she wants this before we quickly grab each other crashing our lips together again. Our bodies moving together and our mouths hungry.

“Fuck, I need you closer.” I moan into our kiss before softly pushing her against the wall of the stairwell. My hands roaming her body until they find their way to her beautiful thighs. I yank one of her legs up by her knee taking the opportunity to get my body closer to her. I can feel her hot core against my aching cock. My hands now resting on her ass and I leave kisses along her neck.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you to touch me like this for so long, Spencer.” She moans softly into my hair.

“Is that so?” I ask, looking up at her as I slowly drop down to my knees.

“Oh my god.” She whispers as she realizes my intentions for getting down here.

‘She’s definitely gonna believe in a god when i'm done with her.’ I think to myself as I start leaving kisses along her thighs.

“Y/n??”

We jump at Penelope’s voice we hear from around the corner. FUCK.

I immediately get back up and look at her attempting to straighten her dress and hair up. “We’re just having a conversation. Okay?” I whisper to her searching her eyes trying to keep her calm

“Okay.” She whispers back.

I nod as I take a seat on the steps crossing my arms over my knees in an attempt to hide my boner from Penelope.

“Oh my god! There you two are!” Penelope said relieved once she saw us. “Is everything okay with my two favorite nerds?”

“Yeah, just kinda debriefing the past week. It was a lot for me.” Y/n spoke up.

“Awwww okay pumpkin. If you need to take time to yourself it’s okay, everyone would understand.” She said as she pulled y/n into a hug.

“Yeah that’s probably what i'm gonna do. I need to decompress.” Y/n says in response, hugging our friend back.

“Okay baby cakes.” Garcia responded by pulling away. “What about you, my handsome wonder boy? You okay?”

“Yeah i'm good. Just got a bit overwhelmed. I’ll probably head home as well.” I say in response looking up at her from my seat on the stairs.

“Okay then my loves. I’ll go let them know.” She says as she starts to back up. “Reid, be a gentleman and make sure our sweet y/n gets home safe.” She turns and sends a winks to y/n before turning and making her way back to the bar.

“You um… maybe wanna come over and talk about everything?” I ask looking back to the beautiful woman I had in my arms moments ago.

“I would like that.”

[soldearestsoulmate]

Character + Prompt/Request:

Sol x GN!Reader, for the beginning, then Sol and GN!Reader (spoiler. you break up)

One angsty torturing of Sol coming right up! pfff <3 (More could of been added to this...A continuation? Maybe Reader comes back...Even after all the red flags there, and suspecting what was done...What if they still come back? Only time may tell. lol)

Warnings: Attempted drugging with sleeping pills, manipulation, toxic relationship.

“Why would you put so much hope in me? Things have clearly never worked out for me!”

Rarely he rose his voice at you, unless he really was affected by his emotions, which clearly he was right now.

You've heard him say this before though, done this before. Over and over again, things go well, then they fall, then you work to try to rebuild it all with him, for him.

You loved him, you did. Cared for him deeply. But everyone has their limits, and you finally reached yours.

"You're right...They haven't, and maybe it's a sign this won't work out after all." His eyes widened at your words. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out at first. Then he started to panic, you could see it clearly, he quickly grabbed your hands, with pleading eyes.

"NO! THIS WILL WORK! IT WILL! IT HAS TO! YOU'RE MY SOULMATE AFTER ALL! WE'RE MEANT TO BE!" You felt his hold tighten, it was starting to hurt...

"Sol...Maybe you've been wrong though? What kind of soulmate can't make their love truly happy?...Help them with their problems when needed most? Make them more happy than sad, and feel more love than sorrow? That's no soulmate...at least one you deserve. You deserve better."

"No no no please don't say that. Don't believe any of that. I'm sorry! I'm sorry I keep screwing this up! I keep making it hard for you, for us! But I'll try, I'm trying! I'll do better. I'll--I'll try therapy again. I'll talk to Hyugo and--"

"And what? We repeat this all over again? Sol...Please...You know we've been hanging on by a thread for too long...I love you, I really do but...I love you too much to keep making you suffer like this...I...I can't stand to see you hurt anymore...And I know I'm mostly to blame for it all..."

"NO! YOU'RE NOT! IT'S HIS FAULT! ALL ICHABOD'S FAULT! EVEN AFTER RIDDING OF HIM HE STILL--"

"...What?"

Sol let his grip go, taking a step back, realizing what he said. "I mean...I..."

"Sol...What about Crowe? What do you mean 'ridding of him'?"

"P-pumpkin...I can explain. Let me just--" Sol attempted to hold your hands again but you stepped back, moved away from him. Eyes widened in confusion and fear.

"...What happened to Crowe? Solivan, god help me if you did something to him--"

"Pumpkin please! I swear it's not like that! Just let me explain and--"

"Then explain right now what happened to him. Explain or I will call the cops." Sol felt his heart skip a beat and tighten from your threat. Yet he forced a smile, trying to act calm.

"Of course...But let me please make you a drink, some tea, it'll help calm you while I explain...Okay? Please..." Sol's pleading eyes never failed to have a affect on you...So you nodded and let him go get that drink for you.

As Sol left the room, he texted Hyugo, a simple text, saying "They found out." sent out and then he put the phone away to focus on you.

He went to the kitchen to prepare that tea he promised, but pulled out something he thought he'll never have to use again.

"...You just need some sleep, pumpkin. I promise you. It'll all be better soon." He softly said this as he mixed in the pills into your drink. Then looked at the drink in his hands. He knew this had to be done, but wished it didn't come to this again. "I'll make this better again. I promise..."

After a moment of making peace with this decision with himself, he made his way back to the room where you were at.

"Here you go, pumpkin. One warm cup of tea made with lov--" Sol froze as he entered the room, to see no sight of you. Then saw the window wide open, your one and only exit taken. He didn't even care about the cup of tea he dropped, that both shattered and spilled over his shoes.

All he was focused on now was running to the window, to look around outside, in hopes of seeing you but you were nowhere to be found.

"PUMPKIN?! Y/N!" His breathing quickened, his heart raced, he felt his panic rising more as he started to pace the room. Looking for a sign of where you could of went. He even flipped the house upside down for a possible chance of finding you, hoping you were just hiding but you weren't there. You were gone.

Then with trembling hands he grabbed his phone to try to call Hyugo but kept messing up. He was scared, not over you getting the cops after him though. He was scared of losing you, of you being away from him.

He wasn't thinking straight anymore. He left the house in a panic now to look for you, to find you and bring you back home. To make this all right, but you wouldn't be found...Not anytime soon that is...

So he'll just run, and search for you for hours, calling you out, begging and pleading for you to come back. All while he ignores Hyugo's panicked texts and calls...

[milkoomi]

⋆˚࿔ a new canvas means a new you 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

a mini series on the art of becoming a better you

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

chapter four — THE ART OF SELF RESPECT

when you live a life where you don’t respect yourself, your boundaries, your health, your mind, your emotions; just anything about you, you’ll end up living a life where you’re walked all over, where people take advantage of you, where you’ll find no successes or achievements— you live a life feeling lost and feeling empty, feeling like your mission in life is to be meaningless. we’re taught to respect others, but we’re never taught to respect ourselves. we, as individuals, need to have the highest level of respect for one person. that person being us.

ᥫ᭡. where to start

decenter men

i was talking about this the other night with my best friend, but way too many people (women, men, trans women/men, literally anyone) center their lives around men. the patriarchy has stolen so many people’s individuality, stripping them of finding their own personality, their own interests, opinions, hobbies, etc. and that is one of the main reasons people don’t have any self respect. decenter men.

a man should not, and never define who you are as a person. a man should never make you feel like you are undeserving of your own successes. a man should never make you feel any less than what you truly are! men should never be a source of validation for you as a person. it doesn’t matter if you’re a man yourself (cis or trans), it doesn’t matter if you’re a woman (cis or trans), and it doesn’t matter if you’re nonbinary/gender-nonconforming; you should never ever— and i mean ever— center your ideals, thoughts, opinions, hobbies, interests, and your entire self and life around a man.

too many people are so focused on men and what men think about them. and let me just give you some food for thought: when have you ever done something solely for yourself without the back thought of a man’s approval? i’ll admit, back in high school i spent all four years thinking about men and seeking validation from a man. from my freshman year all up until my senior year i was in back to back relationships because i couldn’t even fathom the thought of being without a man. and you know what that did for me? it made me miserable, it made me more insecure, and it made me put myself into situations that the person who i am now would be insanely repulsed by because what the fuck was i thinking? majority of my teenage years were spent centering my life around men, and i was miserable.

now, at my current age at this point in my life, i am so unbelievably lucky to be engaged to the man of my dreams, but! i remember when my partner and i first started dating, my therapist asked about 5-6 months into my relationship, “do you feel like you depend on him for your happiness?” and it made me think, “oh my god, what if i am? what if all the anxieties i have about my relationship are because i rely too much on him for my own happiness?” while my relationship with him is the healthiest, happiest, and most healing relationship i’ve ever been in, i had to learn to be okay with being by myself; with being in the company of my own, without him, because i can’t depend on him for company or happiness or peace— i have to depend on myself for those things, and he’s just my wonderful partner that i get to enjoy and experience life with. he’s not my entire life. he’s only a part of it.

you have to learn to be happy and to find peace with being by yourself. your whole life can’t be surrounding the idea of a man.

here are a couple posts that i’ve found to be really helpful with how to decenter men:

“decentering men and recentering yourself” by @honeytonedhottie

“how to decenter men” by @femmefatalevibe

stop seeking validation from others

not only do people seek validation from men, they seek validation from literally anyone. parents, teachers, bosses, friends, classmates, colleagues; people are looking from validation from all the wrong sources. you, yourself, should be the only person you seek validation from. you should be setting your own standard from yourself.

again, looking for validation from any outside source only makes you lose yourself more and more in the process. you forget all about what you want and need from yourself because you’re so focused on what other people need and want from you. validate yourself, affirm yourself, just be there for yourself. you don’t need anyone or anything else telling you that you’re doing something right. you’ll know what’s right for you because you should know yourself better than anyone else!

set boundaries

chapter three was all about learning how to say no and how to set boundaries, so i highly recommend going back to that chapter and reviewing it since i go more in-depth on that topic!

setting boundaries for yourself is one of the best things to do to regain your self respect. knowing what exactly you want from yourself and from others and setting that line will not only protect your happiness and peace, but it will also show an immense amount of respect that you have for yourself to others who may think that they don’t have to respect you.

ᥫ᭡. self respect as a whole

respecting yourself means respecting your peace, your privacy, your thoughts, your opinions, your emotions; you as a person. it protects you from things and people that could potentially harm you, whether it’s physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.

protect your peace. protect your happiness. protect your mind and your body. when you disrespect yourself by partaking in an overuse of harmful substances, having unprotected sex with someone you don’t even have a genuine connection to, or accepting behaviors from someone who’s constantly hurting you or betraying your trust you become a doormat for people to walk all over you in life.

i have known too many people, myself included, who disrespected themselves and faced one too many hardships in life. it makes us miserable and that misery turns into so many mental health issues that can sometimes cause too much harm that it makes it 100 times more difficult to recover.

self respect doesn’t have to be hard. you can always start small by just taking care of yourself! this has been a recurring theme in this series, but here i am to say it again: prioritize yourself! respect that you have needs and wants and do things for yourself that make you feel good and that benefit you. self care is vital, and respecting the fact that your own health needs to be in check is a wonderful first step towards gaining more self respect.

you have to show up for yourself, you have to immerse yourself in activities/hobbies/media that’s actually good for you— not what you think is good for you, you have to be kind to yourself, and you have to love yourself, babes. seriously, self respect can be a really simple thing at the end of the day and it can come so easily to you if you just let it be. don’t make your life harder by disrespecting yourself.

ᥫ᭡. final notes

we’re nearing the end of this mini series! chapter five will be the final chapter! i’m so thankful that this series has been shown so much love so far and i hope that it’s been able to help you guys as much as it helped me! i know i’ve been writing all of these, but something about creating content like this really motivates me to keep moving forward with my own self improvement journey.

i hope you guys always know i’m with you every step of the way in this journey. you never have to walk it alone, trust me! i know i always talk about being there for yourself, but other people (who are genuinely worth it, of course) can be there for you too! we’ve all got the same goal: to better ourselves. it’s going to be a difficult and long journey, but we’ll make it together!

with lots of love, juno 🌷