#//idk what happened to my read more the first time but i fixed it

[ririban]

I really cannot fully explain just how much The Case Files of Jeweler Richard means to me. I will never not be grateful about having come across it when I did. Like, I’m from India, and India isn’t the best place to actually be exposed to what being queer means. For the longest time I didn’t even know that the acronym went beyond the letter T. The word aromantic meant nothing to me because it wasn’t a word I knew. All I knew was that when my friends were getting crushes and dating, I was desperately trying to find new excuses for why I didn’t have anyone I was interested in. Because “I don’t want to be in a relationship” was an answer that earned me strange looks.

I did eventually learn that something called aromanticism exists by the time I went to college, but I never really bothered to learn what that entailed. Then I met a friend who happened to be asexual, and she pointed out that based on what I told her, I might be aroace. And I thought about it for a while, but wasn’t really convinced. More importantly, the idea of sticking a label to myself kinda scared me because it felt like it was something irreversible.

And then Jeweler Richard happened. I really enjoyed the first episode, even shed a couple of tears. The inclusion of a canon lesbian character in the second episode was a pleasant surprise (I did not know about Tatsuki back then. Present day me is annoyed we never got to see her in the anime). But it went from an anime I simply enjoyed to a story I absolutely fell in love with in episode 8: The Angel's Aquamarine. This was the episode in which we first found out about Tanimoto’s views on romance, and I found myself understanding where she was coming from. Online people were discussing how she came off as aromantic, and that made me think again. But, again, “sticking” that label to me wasn’t something I was comfortable with.

That changed when I came across a certain passage in volume 6. For those of you who haven’t read the novel yet and are okay with spoilers, Tanimoto visits Étranger after being invited by Seigi. There she has a conversation with Richard, during which he tells her this:

“Humans are creatures that can only recognize the present moment as reality. But that present changes, moment by moment. For example, someone who was bisexual in their twenties might decide to identify as heterosexual in their thirties. Or someone who considered themself heterosexual at age seventeen might realize that they’re gay at age twenty-five. Someone who may have considered themself polyamorous and open to relationships with anyone might feel as though they’ve met their soulmate at age fifty-five and become monogamous. Of course, this isn’t true of everyone—but from a statistical perspective, changes of this nature aren’t at all unusual. It’s just like how, if left to their own devices, our hair and nails will continue to grow.”

The reason I was scared of declaring myself as aro was because I worried that it was something I’d never be able to take back. That becoming aro to the people around me wouldn’t allow me to one day say, “no, I don’t think I actually am aromantic”. I would’ve rather stayed in a state of being confused than make a decision I couldn’t undo. But then Richard told Tanimoto that it’s fine. It’s fine to change your mind later on. That a label isn’t fixed to you, and isn’t something you have to carry throughout your life if it’s something you no longer identify with. And idk if I can even begin to explain how important that was to me. Because those were the words I needed.

It’s okay that I’m not interested in being in a relationship. It’s okay if I call myself aro. It’s okay for me to no longer make up excuses because a simple “I’m not interested in dating” is enough. This is a comparison that only Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint fans will get, but The Case Files of Jeweler Richard is to me what Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse is to Kim Dokja. JR did not save my life in the way that TWSA did for Kim Dokja, but it had a bigger impact on my life than any other story. I’d like to believe that the love I have for JR is similar to the love Dokja holds for TWSA.

As a final point, this confidence in myself and my identity isn’t all that JR gave me. Another important thing that happened in my life thanks to it is that I made many lovely friends in the fandom 💕

[katyspersonal]

Also another highlight of ER gameplay is how much Patches helped me without intending to (Fantomette don't read if you didn't find him yet)

So like I explored god knows how much and leveled and seen all kinds of caves yet, until I went down in the lake one (haven't killed dragon there yet, I am working on it). So there was that basic bitch boss cave ok? And I waited for like TEN DARN MINUTES for the boss to appear! TEN minutes!! I thought the game lagged so I gave up and decided to dig in the chest, and MOTHERFUCKING-

HE WAS THE BOSS HGKMKKGYHV LITERALLY THE LAST THING IN THE WORLD I EXPECTED!!!! PATCHES WAS A BOSS AAAAA

And so many years later he invented a new trick than just throwing the player off the cliff gfhfjgb And this time it is ACTUALLY player's fault because he didn't ask for help, nor gave advice, nor tossed shiny coins near the cliff, he just... left a chest near a place that looks like a camp, so it was ACTUALLY unfair to open it if you think of it. Damn, they made him have a point instead of being hostile when you didn't even do anything bad ;-; He's grown so much xD unlike his hair

As for how that helped me, I returned in that cave later. He wasn't there (later I learned if you take too long he leaves, so I had to see what he'd say in Youtube), but there was the trap chest. It teleported me in unfamiliar area but I already knew THIS kind of bears was dangerous, so I just snuck away for a bit... Found some sort of chapel, stepped on the round lift there, and it was just. Going down and down and down until it opened such a beautiful sight????

So apparently that took me into a super fun secret map UNDER the main map, it was so entertaining to explore! I could not stop taking the screenshots because there THE SKY AND THE COSMOS ARE THE ONE, and there I found those herbs I needed to craft the anti-madness boluses but had NO idea where to find. Also there were pillars I kept igniting and pillars on the way up the stairs, so when I found them all I got to fight a cool giant reindeer!

Basically the coolest adventure ever that would have missed out on if Patches didn't do his thing bykgjhgfg Because I honestly doubt I'd be able to find that spot on my own.

[homestylehughes]

kiss it better

pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack's injury takes a toll on his and y/n's relationship, when tensions come to rise. emotions get the best of them and, feelings are hurt and tears fall. but that's nothing a little kissing or more can fix.

warnings: smut 18+ (idk what happened..), lots of angst, emotional reader and jack. cussing, fluff, cuteness, use of pet names and y/n.

wc: 3k

authors note: hi my little loves!! i'm back with another jack fic... no surprise! BUT this is my second back to back upload. look at me. i wrote all of this in one day, BOOM. anyways! this one was a little emotional to write, i'm trying my hand at writing angst, i love angst. i wasn't going to write smut but HEY IT JUST HAPPENED LOL. so hopefully you guys enjoy!! reblog and like if you enjoy <3 as always much love!!

happy reading <3

The devils had a rough year, everyone knew it, with their season ending in a heartbreaking way. 

Jack had an even tougher year, his season being filled with 2 injuries that led his season to end early, so he could undergo shoulder surgery. We all knew this was coming, it was only just a matter of time.

This time it hit Jack harder than the times before, he felt like he let his team, fans, and family down. 

Resting and recovering wasn't something Jack liked to do, he’s always been a go go go person, always doing something, always on the ice. 

 Jim and Ellen went with him to Colorado for his surgery, I stayed back and waited for his arrival back to Jersey. When he arrived back from Colorado from his surgery on Saturday, everything was fine. The first few days had been pretty easy for Jack, sleeping for most of the time. Only getting up to eat, shower, with my help and take his meds. 

He had been home for a week before tensions in our home started to rise. 

I woke up to a loud noise coming from the kitchen I think, rubbing my eyes quickly. As I lifted up out of bed, I turned to Jack's side of the bed, to see that he's not there. 

Quickly slipping on my slippers I make my way down stairs, to see Jack in the kitchen trying to fix himself a bowl of cereal. As I make my way further into the kitchen I see that the milk is spilled all over the counter on the floor, with the bowl also on the floor broken into pieces. 

I hear Jack mumbling words under his breath that I can't quite make out, but I'm assuming none of them were things I wanted to hear. 

Jack spots me before I even open my mouth to speak. “Shit i'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you up,” he says, looking at me. 

“ I just wanted to make myself breakfast, but I can't even do that.” His head hung low as speaks. I could hear the sadness in his voice. 

“Jack it's okay, I promise” I say, making my way towards him. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make you something, okay?” 

“NO!” Jack says loudly, the raise of his voice catching me off guard. “No, I can clean up my own mess. I made it.” 

Taking a deep breath, trying to choose my words carefully, I can already feel the tension in the room rising. 

“At least let me help,” I said quietly, not wanting to upset him. “I don't need your help y/n.” Jack says aggressively, “you've been helping and taking care of me all week.” he says as he turns to grab a towel to clean up the spilled milk.

I stood there in shock, Jack had never talked to me like that before. Anger and sadness ripe through my body. My head is telling me to fight back, but my heart is telling me not too. 

Im hot on his heels, following behind him, “jack.'' I called out his name, his back turned to me, as he began to clean up the mess. I get no response, “Jack'' I say again but a little bit louder this time, which still doesn't get a reaction from him.

My head is beginning to win, now wanting to fight back. I go to grab the towel out of his hands, throwing it in the sink behind me. Grabbing his hip, to turn him towards me so I can look at him. 

His eyes are locked on the ground, not looking at me. “Jack.” I try again for the third time. “Talk to me, what's going on?” softly saying to him, bringing my hand to his chin to lift his face up, to look at me. 

Jack is quick to rip his face from my hand, “i don't want to talk” he says looking straight at me now. Tears of anger, sadness, frustration swimming around in his eyes. “I'm going to clean up my mess, and you’re not going to help, leave it alone.” he says sternly at me.

My eyes are beginning to fill with tears of my own, not wanting to cry in front of him, not wanting to speak and argue with him to make the situation worse. I nod at him and make my way out of the kitchen, tears falling on my face as soon as I do. 

I just wanted to help him, be there for him, he needs someone right now even if he won't say it. I know this is hard on him, mentally and physically, but that doesn't make his actions okay.

All of these thoughts are running through my head as I make my way to our shared bedroom.  Making my way to the closet, deciding to start getting ready for the day, there's no way I'll be able to sleep after this. 

Tears are still falling on my face, I want to go back down there and say something, help him, talk to him, give him a hug. Do anything that I can for him, but I know he doesnt want that right now, he made that very clear. The situation is already tense enough. 

While getting ready for the day, I decided to give Jack space today. It seems to be what he wants from me right now. The tears have stopped falling for now, but my thoughts and feelings haven't stopped wandering.

I hear Jack enter our room, as I finish up my makeup, my body instantly tenising up, taking a deep breath I make my way out the bathroom. Grabbing my jacket, my back turned to him, there's so many things I want to say to him but I keep them to myself. 

I can feel Jack making his way closer to me, his front facing my back, his hand sliding on my waist. 

“Baby” he quietly says, the sound of his voice making me nervous. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, my eyes beginning to water again. Our eyes locked, I can tell he's been crying. I want to reach out to him, but i don't, scared of his reaction. 

Jack's hand is still on my waist, pulling me slightly closer to him. I'm the first to speak, I can't handle the silence anymore. “I'm going to run a few errands, I'll be back in a few hours. Text me if I need anything "I say softly, looking at the ground.

“I want to talk” Jack speaks again, I internally scoff at him, so now you want to talk. 

“I don't want to talk to you right now jack.” I say, making my way towards the bedroom door. Jack followed behind me, “that's a little childish don't you think? walking away, when i'm trying to talk to you” he says a little louder this time.

Anger is flowing through my veins, hot angry sad tears are now falling down my cheeks. “You don't get to speak to me like that.'' I say a wip my body around to face him. “You don't get to decide when we talk, or when I want to talk to you! '' I say with a voice full of venom. “You didn't want to talk 45 minutes ago, when I tried to talk to you. So yes jack, I am walking away. I have things to do. I don't want to be around someone who treats me like shit when I’m trying to be there for them” 

My voice is losing its battle of being strong, my emotions are winning, as my voice begins to trail off. I'm not stopping there, quick to cut off jack as he opens his mouth. 

“Actually, we are going to talk now.” I say, throwing my jacket on the ground. “I am trying my best to be the best I can for you right now. As much as you won't admit it, you need me right now, you're so stubborn that you won't let me. Let me be there for you, let me help you, we are in this together, stop acting like you are doing this alone.” 

“I know this is hard on you in so many ways, I'll never know what you're going through, but let me be there, talk to me. This isn't easy on me either, seeing the person you love the most in pain and you can't help them.” I'm beginning to sob at this point, trying my best to get everything out that I want to say. I'm not sure if I'll have the strength to do it again. 

Taking a few steps, to stand in front of Jack, grabbing his face in my hands, tears also streaming on his face. He leans into my touch this time, instead of pulling away. 

“I love you so much, don't push me away, please.'' I say staring in his eyes, looking for a response. Instead of words, Jack pushes his lips to mine, the kiss surprising me, knocking me off my feet almost. My hands never leave his cheeks, our mouths moving in sync, in a passionate kiss. 

Jack pulled away first, lips swollen, our chests both rising. “I'm so sorry” Jack begins “ I'm so grateful for your help and love during all of this” “this” he gestures to his shoulder which is sitting strapped up in a brace. “This is dragging me down. I hate it. I can't do anything for myself, i feel so bad when i ask for help im scared that I'm annoying you.” he says, “you'll never annoy me, Jack.'' I say while running my finger under his eyes, wiping away the tears. 

“Thank you for being here for me. I do need you, I'll always need you.” he finishes, before I have the chance to speak, jack is reconnecting our lips.

 Walking us back towards the bed, where he sits on the edge, his free arm urging me to sit on his lap. I pull away quickly, “ Jack, I can't. I don't want to hurt you” 

“You wont hurt me baby, what's hurting me is you not being on my lap, kissing me. Now get up here” he says with a smirk, pulling my body down to rest on top of his. 

Once I'm settled safely on his lap, Jack immdentially pulls my face down, to reconnect our lips together. 

Our makeout session is picking up, our hips grinding together, lips moving frantically together, jacks tongue slipping into my mouth, clashing with mine.

We haven't been this close in awhile, I've missed his body, his lips on mine. With another roll of my hips, Jack pulls his lips back groaning, throwing his head back.

Giving me the perfect access to his brace free shoulder, kissing and sucking on exposed skin of his neck. His grip on my waist tightening as our bodies move together. 

“Baby, I need more. Please.” Jack whines out to me, “I need to see you, I want to feel you, please, please” 

I pull back from his neck, his eyes filled with desperation. “Are you sure? I don't think we should, your shoulder, I don't want to hurt you jack.” I can see his heartache when I say those words to him. 

“Baby, I'm okay. I need you so badly, fuck” he says breathlessly as he beings to move our hips together again. I moan, as Jack connects our lips again, his hand sliding under my shirt, urging me to pull it off. In a quick motion I pull it above my head, leaving me in my bra. 

“Off. off. I want it off baby '' Jack says pulling at the straps of my bra. I reach behind me to unclip it, throwing it somewhere behind me. 

Jack is quick to grasp one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and lightly biting it, the sensation causing me to moan out from above him. “Fuck Jack, yes fuck.” our hips moving at a quicker space, the dampness between my legs growing by the second, I can feel Jacks bulge swell benenth me. 

“Jack.” I moan out as he sucks and licks both of my breasts. “Jack i need more fuck, but i dont want to hurt you.'' I whimper. “I know baby I can feel it” he says in between the kisses his trailing up my neck. An idea pops into my head as his lips are about to meet mine again, I pull away. “move and sit up against the headboard.” I say to him, Jack's eyes widen in surprise. 

I get off of him, and he quickly makes his way to the top of the bed, his back resting against the headboard.

I began to unzip my jeans, pulling them down my legs along with my underwear, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I began to crawl to Jack on the bed. I reached him, grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down his legs, leaving him bare. 

I take in his state, eyes swimming with lust and love, pupils blown, chest falling, lips swollen. He looks beautiful, brace and all.

Wasting no more time, I sit myself back down on his lap, his cock resting warm and hard against my inner thigh. “Hi” I said to him, “Is that what you wanted? Want me to kiss everything better?” I say, grabbing the base of his cock, lifting up so I can align myself with him.

Without warning I sink down on Jack's cock, the both of us groaning at the same time. I'll never get used to the way Jack feels inside me, the burn between my thighs feels dealicious, I want more. I need more. 

“Fuck baby.” Jack whines out, his free hand grabbing my waist harshly. “I need you to move please.” “like this?” I say as I raise up slightly and slide back down on his cock.

“Yes, like that baby, fuck. More. More.” Jack says as he's looking up at me, so desperate and needy. 

I decide I'll stop tourchoring the both of us, as I lift off of him completely and sink down again. The action causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. “Fuck jack you feel so good” i say as I begin to ride at him at a slow pace. 

“Faster, fuck” jack groans from below me, getting tired of the pace he begins to thrust his hips to mine. 

“Right there jack please”. The angle of this thrusts hits my clit perfectly, causing shock waves to crash through my body. I can feel myself beginning to get tired, needing something to grab on too. 

Grabbing the headboard behind Jack, I lift myself off of him, and sink back down, putting all of my weight into the headboard, to create more leverage. 

The new movement causes my whole body to shutter. glancing below me, Jack's head is leaning back against the headboard, eyes closed, mouth open moaning below me.

As if he can feel me looking at him, he opens his eyes, pushes himself off the head board and takes my left nipple into his mouth, his eyes remain on mine. 

I began to speed up my movements, causing the whole bed to move below us. 

“Fuck right there baby.” Jack moans out to me, his hand moving from my waist to the back of my neck pulling it down to connect our lips. 

Moans spilling out between the both of us, I can feel the coil starting to build in my stomach, as our hips meet. 

“Jack fuck” i moan out i a throw my head back, now resting my hands on his hips. 

“I can feel you clintching around fuck baby.” “im almost there fuck” slamming myself harder down on his cock. 

Jack trailing his hand down the front of my body, stopping where we’re connected, his fingers finding my clit instantly, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers. 

“Oh my god, fuck” I drop my head to jacks neck, still working myself against him.

“Don't stop, don't stop.” I yell out to him, I can feel my legs beginning to shake

“Baby I'm about to cum.” Jack lifts his hand from my clit, forcely grabbing the back of my head, smashing our lips together, teeth and tongues clashing. 

One last snap of our hips, and I'm cumming. My head dropping to Jack's shoulder, incoherent things are falling from both our lips as we chase our highs together.

After a few seconds I gained enough strength to pull myself up. I can feel Jack's hand rubbing up and down my back. 

I sit back enough to fully look at him. Our chests falling quickly, trying to catch our breaths.  “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.'' Jack says to me, his hand moving to push hair out of my face. “Did so good for me baby” I smile at him, before I'm quickly pulled back into reality when I remember his shoulder.

“Jack. your shoulder” i say frantically, “are you hurt? I knew we should have done this. Oh god "I say as I'm trying to push myself off of him quickly. 

“Hey hey, baby I'm fine.” Jack says as he grabs a hold of my face, his eyes locked with mine. “Hell, I'm more than fine. I'm great, all because of you” he smiles fully at me. 

My nerves settle a little, as I look over at him to make sure he's actually okay. Jack laughs at my concern as his face follows my movements. “Baby i promise i'm okay” he chuckles out to me again.

“Okay sorry, for caring about you.” I sigh dramatically out to him. “Hey now, none of that” he says, pulling my face closer to his again. 

“Come kiss me better.” he whispers out before connecting our lips. 

[barbieaemond]

A curse for a curse

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, sub!Aemond, smut, oral sex (f and m receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, p in v, chains kink (idk if that’s even a thing but it’s there)

Word count: 8.5K

Author’s note: PLEASE READ THIS ->There's a little canon divergenge as in Rook's Rest is not happened yet, so Aegon is King and Aemond went to Harrenhal. Based on a request I got for sub!Aemond.

Taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @ashovertheriver

Harrenhal tastes like curse and smoke when she enters the blackened and ruined walls.

She is sure, as she is sure that dragons are real, that this place has been cursed over and over since Balerion and Aegon the Conqueror proved that not even stone was safe against dragonfire.

The air is heavy in her lungs, as breathing through a thick layer of wool and her steps echo down the corridors in a strange way; it seems like a never ending sound, echoing through the walls and many lost ages.

But her stride is steady, her eyes fixed on the doors of the Hall of One Hundred Hearths where she is sure to find him, where she will end this thing for which she has no name, and yet it is draining her, wearing her out like a starved leech.

“When is Aemond coming back?” the Queen Mother asks, and then little Jaehaera asks the same question, even Helaena, in those rare moments of clarity, wonders about her brother. And each time, she doesn’t know what to say. Her lip grows stiff, her jaw clenches and she wonders obsessively from dawn till dusk. What is he doing there?

Why has he not returned now that Harrenhal has been taken?

What is he doing with that bastard woman? 

“They say she’s a witch.” King Aegon says with his glassy eyes, putting down his cup as he looks around to choose a target on which to pour his anger. Wine seems to not work anymore, it is not enough to quench his thirst for revenge, and unfortunately, she happens to be the easiest mark.

“He killed everyone in that gods-forsaken place. Everyone except the witch.” He leans forward, watching her with amused anticipation just like a child who waits for his favorite toy to break. “Why did he not do it, sweet good-sister?”

He wants her to snap, and surely something does snap inside her, but she refuses to be humiliated like this.

“I do not know, your Grace. Perhaps my husband learned the Gods’ mercy and decided to spare a woman.”

His chest shakes violently as he laughs, and there’s nothing more humiliating than his laugh, not even the whispers traveling all the way from the Riverlands.

He’s taken her as his prisoner, keeps her in his chambers.

She has utterly bewitched him.

Every word is a stab to her heart and every time his word reaches her through a raven, the wound splits more open and festers.

He does not mention the bastard witch. He says nothing on the matter. He informs her of the war progressing, tells her he will come back soon.

Soon.

Soon was two moons ago and he’s still there.

It doesn’t matter anymore, she thinks as she reaches the doors of Harrenhal. Soon is now.

The look on Ser Criston Cole is almost comical as two soldiers open the doors of the Hall of the Hundred Hearths. “Princess?”

She immediately looks around, but there’s no silver in that huge black hall.

“What are you doing here?” the Hand asks, walking to her “It is not safe for you—”

“Where is the Prince?” she cuts him off, her tongue hitting her teeth like a blade cleaving the air.

Ser Criston looks puzzled for a moment, and even if she doesn’t show it, anguish twists her gut. But then he says “The Prince is not here, your Grace. He’s out, on the battle camp.”

She looks at the soldiers in the room, watching her like some kind of weird creature—a lamb in a den of wolves. That is no place for a princess, no place for a woman. And yet, it is precisely her place.

She belongs to his side. As he belongs to hers. It’s what she’s been telling herself for two moons of sleepless nights.

She should have come here with him in the first place, war be damned.

“Leave, please.” She orders the men “All of you. I need a word with the Hand.”

They may not be used to taking orders from a woman, but they immediately leave the Hall like a pack of unruly children.

The thud of the doors is like some kind of curtain falling and she is finally free of this act, free to snap.

“What is going on here, Ser Criston?”

He shifts on his feet, looking down, looking utterly incapable to answer her question. “The situation in the Riverlands is quite delicate at the moment—”

“I don’t give a shit about the war, Ser Criston.” She almost hisses “You are perfectly aware of what I’m asking.”

His mouth shuts and she resists the urge to use her hands as talons to part his lips and grab the truth from his throat.

“What is going on between Aemond and the witch.” she states, she is not asking.

The Hand sighs deeply and takes a step closer. His whole demeanor changes, becomes confidential, almost fatherly. “My Princess, you must not believe the foul whispers that have been spread.”

She feels a glimmer of relief blooming in her heart, but not strong enough to relinquish the leeches sucking at her bones. “What should I believe then?”

“It’s true. The Prince spared her life.”

“Does he keep her in his chambers?”

“What? Seven Hells, no. She has her own chamber. A little room in the wing intended for servants.”

“Did she ever visit his rooms? Alone?”

Ser Criston looks down for a moment, his lips contracting. “You must understand, my Princess. There are no servants here.”

The wound between her ribs cracks open.

There are no servants here. Did she help him dress? Did she help him bathe? Did she do all the things she used to do? All the things only she was entitled to do?

“I want to see her.”

“Princess, it is not wise.”

“I believe it is very much wise, Ser Criston, since my marriage is at stake here.”

 Ser Cole sighs again. “She’s…dangerous, my Princess. She’s eerily persuasive.”

“So, you think it’s true? That she’s a witch?”

“I’m not sure about her powers, my Princess. All I know is that…one of our soldiers spat in her face when she was still a captive by order of the Rogue Prince and she just…murmured something to this man.” He swallows lowering his gaze and takes a deep breath. “The next day he ripped out his own tongue with his bare hands, bleeding to death.”

Disturbing as these words can be, she keeps a steady and cold face.  

“She claims she can read the flames. That they speak to her, that she saw all of this happening—the Prince coming here. She claims she saw the fate of the war.”

A long silence stretches between them, but however right the Hand’s reasoning may be, she is not keen to let magic and superstitions take what she has come here to retrieve. “Take me to her.”

Ser Cole stalls for a moment, trying to make her give up by merely looking at her. But at last, he caves. “As you wish, my Princess.”

Her room is completely bare, save for a hearth and a bundle of dirty covers and a pillow thrown on the ground.

She enters and the air feels even heavier, more cursed. She feels it like something weighing on her shoulders, drying her throat.

There’s a woman sitting before the fire, clad in rags with long black hair falling down her back. She seems to register the door opening and closing only minutes later, as if she was too focused on her fire staring. But then she turns her head and looks at the woman before her with a strange smile.

“Alas, you have come.”

The Princess blinks quickly, watching the woman stand up and walk closely to her, chains on her feet and hands. She feels something unsettling under her skin, behind her eyes, as if she can’t stop looking straight into the green eyes of the witch, not even if she wanted to.

“You must be Alys.” She says, quickly scanning the witch before returning, inevitably, like a magnet, into her bright green eyes.

The woman, whose age is impossible to determine, keeps her smile as she looks at the Princess from head to toe. “You are exactly as I saw you in the flames.”

“That will save us some time, then. No need for introductions.”

“No. I know who you are.” The witch says, curling her cracked lips some more “I can see his mark on you.”

“His mark?”

“Yes.” She says, unnaturally widening her eyes. “He leaves a mark on everything. Things, places, people. Much like me, I’d say.” From her throat gushes a high-pitched laugh, jarring and spiteful. “We have much in common, the Kinslayer and I.”

The way she utters the last words makes the Princess grind her teeth, as if they were…what? Friends? Allies?

Lovers?

“Have you been in his chambers all this time?” she finally asks and the witch has the boldness to roll her eyes. “Is that the only reason you’re here? To know if he cheated on you?”

“Answer my question.” The Princess orders.

“Darling, If I wanted to fuck him, I would’ve done it ages ago.” She starts laughing again, grinning mischievously and then she sighs. “You left your mark on him as well. I can feel you in his head. And you are so heavy.”

She doesn't know what to make of that. There is not a single reason why she should trust her word. And it's not just the alleged powers this woman may possess. It's her whole demeanor. Haughty, even though she is a bastard. Mocking, as if she looks at the young woman before her, and sees much, much more.

“Just as you, I’d say, since he’s forsaken his family and his wife to do whatever you’re making him do it with your witchcraft.”

She bursts out laughing, so loud that the Princess flinches and takes a step back.

“I’m not making him doing anything. I can’t play with his head. He’s too stubborn. I did not curse him, sweetheart. Your beloved prince is already accursed.”

“Then what do you want? Gold? Lands?”

“I do what the flames command. I serve no God, no King, no Lord. And neither does your husband. It was his choice to see.”

“To see what?”

“What the flames choose to show. I know how this war will end. I know which color will stain the other for good. I know who will sit on the Iron Throne.”

The Princess furrows her brow, confused and puzzled, apparently pleasing the witch who smiles again and nods. “Oh yes, he will make a sight to behold wearing the Conqueror’s Crown.”

Who? Aemond? On the Iron Throne?

“So that’s how you’re keeping him here. With visions and fantasies.”

“He asked me to. At the moment I’m more valuable to him than all his generals and soldiers put together. Besides, I know how to deal with him.”

The Princess almost laughs at this. “I see. You think you can handle him, don’t you? A wild dragon for you to tame, is that what he is for you?”

“Well, I’m not denying he’s handsome enough to please my eyes.”

“And once you have tamed him, what will you do? How will you handle him when you scratch the surface, and you see the neglected son? Lonely, misunderstood, maimed. The boy no one cared for.”

It is the first time the witch does not have a quick biting answer. It makes the Princess rejoice.

“All your witchcraft won’t be enough to handle him.”

The witch falls silent. There is a distant look in her eyes as she observes the Princess and the more she stares, the more the younger woman feels dreadfully uncomfortable. She starts to feel something in the back of her mind, like a gentle abstract push.

“Ser Criston." she says suddenly, swallowing but keeping a collected mask. "The keys, please."

“Your Grace, Prince Aemond will not be ha—”

“I’ll deal with Prince Aemond.” She says, looking straight at the witch and the ghost of a superb smile hovers on her lips “I know how to handle him.”

The Knight slides the keys from his armor and hands them to the Princess. She is ready to free the witch’s wrists, but she stops, locking her eyes on Alys. “There is a carriage outside. And some guards who will do whatever Ser Criston will order them. Take it and go wherever you want, there’s even gold in the—"

“I told you, I don’t want—”

“I don’t care of what you want!” The Princess snaps, raising her voice, and the pushing dissolves. “You live to serve the flames? Fine. Do it elsewhere, far away from us.”

Alys shuts her parched mouth, and simply nods. “As you wish, Princess.”

She removes the shackles from her feet, and then from her hands, holding the chains between her fingers. Alys touches her hurting wrists, before tilting her head down in some kind of bow, or maybe a mocking gesture. The Princess cannot bring herself to care.

The witch makes her way past the younger woman but at last, she stops for a moment, leaning back her head of dark curls to say “I did touch him, just once. He put a knife to my throat.”

Vhagar likes to nestle on the burned blackened towers of Harrenhal, like some kind of dreadful reminder of the legacy of ruins and ashes Balerion the Dread has unleashed on this cursed land.

Aemond enters the castle walls with his circle of counselors and generals. They crowd on him like bees with honey and he knows why. He knows that most of the time they don’t have a clue what they’re talking about. They hang on his lips and jump like little good soldiers, jostling with one another in the hope of gaining something more when the war ends. A land, a title, one of them had even had the guts to offer a daughter to marry.

“I am not sure of what you are implying, my Lord.” He had said to the Lord with a dangerous black glint in his eye, as the fool thought it was wise to remind the Kinslayer that he and his wife had had no children yet. “Whether you are insulting me or my wife. I am sure of one thing, though. You will shut your hole before I take your tongue and feed it to my dragon.”

There were no more talks of unwed daughters between those walls.

“My Prince, if you allow me—” one of them says as they enter the Hall of the Hundred Hearths “We should give the lords who pledged for the Blacks more time to consider—”

“I gave them enough.” He says turning with a glare, looking even taller than he is, with his silver armor streaked with gold and the long green cloak. “They will pledge to my brother before dawn or I will bring dragonfire to their lands. Then we shall see where their loyalty lies while they burn to the crisp.”

They all shush and Aemond almost thanks the Gods for this brief blessed moment of peace. He ponders for a moment and then looks at a young soldier behind him.

“Summon the witch.” He orders “Bring her to me.”

He looks down to remove his riding gloves but out of the corner of his eye, he sees that the boy is still there.

“Uhm, my Prince, the witch is not here anymore.”

“What do you mean she’s not here?”

“S-she left, your Grace.”

The last word does not even leave his mouth the poor soldier feels a hand around his neck and the Prince is easily lifting him from the ground as if made of feathers. “You let her flee?!” he rages with his eye blown wide.

“I-I did—not your Grace!” the boy manages to croak while he’s choking, legs kicking like a chicken in the butcher’s hands.

“He’s right. I did.” Her voice cuts through the air and Aemond turns his head in a blink, looking positively stunned to hear his wife, to see her there.

He lets the soldier boy go and stares at her on the threshold of the huge Hall. He blinks with disbelief, as if he’s finally able to see after days and nights spent in a cloud of fog. Something shifts inside him him—something that has been wandering ceaselessly day and night, lifting the weight from his shoulders, from his black heart. Not Harrenhal’s weight, not Alys’. A weight far darker, a curse far more dangerous.

“Out.” he orders the Lords “All of you.”

They obey at once, scattering down the Hall only to stop for a moment before the Princess, to pay their respect.

The doors close but she stays on the threshold. His eye roams on her figure, once and then twice. He has never seen her wearing such a simple dress, easy to disguise her noble roots, her royal ones. And even though the mere sight stokes almost three moons of ugly and burning desire, it only makes him angry. It only makes him ashamed.

“What in the name of the Seven are you doing here?”

She walks to him and without uttering a single word or even sparing a glance to him, she begins removing the heavy armor plates from his body.

“What are you doing?” he asks with deep wrinkles on his forehead.

“My duty as wife.” She replies sternly, holding his arm “Or did you forget you had one?” she looks at him and sees rage blazing behind his eye—rage and maybe a tinge of hurt.  

“Am I doing it right?” she asks removing the armor plate from his forearm “Was your witch friend better than me?”

The metal clatters on the ground as he grabs her arm, hard, pulling her close. “I asked you a question. We’re at war and you go strolling around the continent? Have you lost your mind?”

She tries to wriggle herself out of his iron grip, unsuccessfully as always. “How strange, that is a question I should ask you.”

“Enough.” He says grinding his teeth, digging his fingertips into her skin until her mouth twists with pain.

“Enough was two moons ago, Aemond. When you were supposed to come home, to your family, to me.”

“In case you didn’t notice, we’re at war, my dear wife. Things in war don’t go exactly as you planned them—”

“Oh spare me!” she cuts him off, freeing herself “Spare me the war talk, that’s all I’ve been hearing from you.”

“What did you expect exactly? Love letters?”

“I expected what I deserved. To know the truth. You have not mentioned her. Ever, not even once. Do you have the faintest idea of what I’ve been through all this time? Of all the dirt they have been spreading behind my back?”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He says turning his back on her, as if he had not done that enough.

“No, you will.” She promises, circling him to look straight at him again. “They said you were so besotted with her to deny her leaving your chambers.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He says again, closing his eye for a moment.

“They said, and this was from the wretched mouth of your beloved brother, that you put a child in her womb since I was not able to give you an heir.”

“I don’t want to hear about it!” he shouts, and she knows she hit a nerve there, because he never shouts.

“Why? Does it make you ashamed? It should. I had to hear all of it. I had to endure it while you stayed here playing fortune teller with your witch whore.”

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and raises his gaze to look at her, dead serious. “You know nothing about her powers. She saw many things, happened precisely as she predicted. I needed her. I needed her powers and you had no right to send her away.”

“You needed her?” she repeats, pale with utter disbelief. “You needed her for what? For her to tell you how good you’ll look wearing the Conqueror’s Crown? To feed you with fairy tales while we risk our lives staying in the capital, unprotected because Dreamfyre can’t fight and Tessarion is still in Oldtown. What if the Blacks decide to attack us now? They have a dozen of dragons, we have only Sunfyre.”

“The Blacks will not attack.”

“Did she tell you this? Did she see this in the flames?” she can’t fight back the contempt curling her lips “Are you listening to yourself? Flames and visions to win a war? You poor fool.”

“Watch your mouth, woman.” he seethes “You don’t talk to me like this.”

“Or what? Are you going to chain me up? I kept her chains, you know? I thought you’d like a token of your time with the witch.”

“Did you come here for this? To make a scene like some common girl who feels threatened by another woman?” his lips turn upwards, curling and twisting with ugly deprecation “What do you think you know about the war? What is your contribution while you lie around in a lavish castle waiting for me to come back and fuck you? I’ll tell you. None. You can’t even perform your duty to give me an heir. And you come here to lecture me?”

The wound is rotting from the inside and he’s pouring salt on it.

“I came here for my dignity. As a woman, I have nothing else. I came here for your mother, who I fear will go mad with worry just as your sister. And lastly, to tell you that I’m with child.”

Aemond stills completely, so much that she thinks the witch’s curse is hitting him right now, no matter how far she is, turning him into stone.

“But it seems utterly irrelevant to me right now. So, go. Hurry! You might still find her.”

She moves to leave the room and he does it at the same time, trying to reach her, to stop her, but she flinches as he tries to touch her, battling his hands away.

Aemond utters her name, softly, and it makes her stomach turn.

“I will leave at dawn.” She informs him with a blank face “I won’t disturb you and your precious war any further. Fret not, husband. I will stay in my lavish castle like the good soldier I am, waiting for you to come back and fuck me.”

This is place is not only cursed, but it is also so freezing cold that she wishes for one of those direwolf furs the Northerners use to wear as she sits before the hearth in what she assumed to be Aemond’s chambers. The room is large, even larger than the ones they share in the Red Keep, but it’s completely bare and almost ominous with its black walls that stink of ash and smoke.

A cursed place, fitting for a cursed woman.

She has been for quite some time. Because she chose to stay by his side, because she chose to love him.

“We could turn to a Septon. Annulments are rare but possible. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins.” Her father had said in a letter, in the aftermath of Lucerys’ death.

As if she could leave him, as if she could turn her back on him and marry another man.

As if he hadn’t left his mark on her.

She thought the Gods had cursed her for good, that was why, however much they tried, she couldn’t bear his child.

“A child is the highest of the blessings from the Gods.” Her mother had said during one of her last visits to the capital “How can they bless your union with a man so accursed?”

And yet.

She is impatiently waiting for the sun to set. Even if her limbs have never been so heavy, as much as her heart, she finds no reason to stay here, not when she can’t stand even the sight of him. But of course, how can there be peace in such a cursed place?

She hears the door opening. She knows his gait. She wished to hear it for two moons as she lied alone in their bed.

She hears him approach until he is beside her, but she does not look at him. She only sees his arm holding out a small tray.

“Eat.” An order, not an invitation.

She doesn’t even bother to look at the food, keeping her cold gaze on the fire. “I’m afraid I lost my appetite, dear husband. You can thank yourself for that.”

She can feel his eye piercing, burning her skin, the air coming from his nose short and harsh.

“Eat or I’ll feed you myself.”

She doesn’t bother to even answer this time.

Aemond stares at her, waits for her to look at him, he needs for her to look at him. “Is it true?”

“What?”

“That you’re with child.”

“In my husband’s lovely words, I lie around all day so I guess I’m capable enough to notice if I miss my moonblood.”

He leaves the tray on the stone mantelpiece, noticing a pair of chains lying there, and then looks down at her.  “You will stay here with me.” Another order.

Another rejection. “I will not.”

“Yes, you will. You are not going anywhere, not in your condition.”

“I see. Now I’m worth something to you, am I not?” and finally she looks up “My duty is fulfilled, my womb is finally swollen. It’s a shame your witch left, we could have asked her to look in the flames and tell us if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Aemond lowers his shoulders and grabs her chin with the same cruelty he is used to brandish his sword, tightening her cheeks to prevent her from uttering another word. “I said enough.”

He watches as she tries to escape his grip, pushing his shoulders as her eyes grow more and more scornful, and he knows he deserves it. But that ugly thing breaks, snaps like a thin rope pulled too tight.

His mouth is on hers, fingers squeezing her cheeks to force her to take his kiss, which is not really a kiss, but more of an act of war, a relentless and rather quick siege, because she was already starving. She opens his mouth and this alone makes him whine with relief as his tongue slides between her teeth. Her hands grab his doublet collar, knuckles turning white and she angles her head, only to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.

He winces as he pulls his head back and sees her licking her lips, a dead distant look in her eyes. But her hands move, gently, through his silver strands. "My words are but blunt knives on you. I must hurt you in the only way I can."

“I did not touch her.” He says like an oath “Ever.”

“I know you didn’t.” she reassures him, but her eyes stay distant, as if even being this close now, they are also miles and miles apart. “Maybe it would’ve been better if you had.”

“Did you want me to fuck her now?”

“I wanted you to need me, not her.”

His eye is on flame, rage and shame dancing together, but it’s not aimed at her. He finds that the only person on the receiving end is none other than himself.

Something dies in his eye, his shoulders slump and his head falls forward, hiding what no one would dare even think of seeing on the stern, cruel face of Aemond One Eye.

He kneels before her and lays his head on her belly, catching her off guard. She can't see his face, and yet she has it before her eyes, clear and indisputable as something carved into stone.

The surface has never been so frail. She doesn’t even need to scratch it, she only has to lift it.

No man is so accursed as the Kinslayer.

She had thought it true enough, but what about Aemond’s curse?

“I know you feel guilty.” She says, or rather whispers, as if she’s being blasphemous by accosting such a word to such a man. “I know you feel guilty for Jaehaerys. For Helaena.”

His answer is mute, but it’s the loudest confession she could get.

He fists the fabric of her gown between his hands, knuckles turning white on the verge of breaking. She feels him nestling further inside her, like a child, and she closes her eyes for a moment, placing a hand on her wound to stop the bleeding, and leans over him, sliding her hands on his back, softly but firmly, as if helping him to stay whole, as if preventing him from breaking into pieces.

Aemond didn’t believe in curses.

He did not regret, not even for a moment, the murder of Lucerys. He did not care that the Gods had turned their backs on him. They had done it a long time before. He did not care of how people called him, of how they would baptize him in the annals of his lineage.

He had started to care, to feel guilt, after he actually killed his kin.

For he had killed Jaehaerys, he had killed Helaena.

Kinslayer. Kinslayer. Kinslayer.

In his head, he heard that word with his mother’s voice, with Aegon’s, Helaena’s.

He found some kind of peace, of solace, only in his wife. But then the war was calling and he fled to Harrenhal. It was his duty, it was his way to try to make things better, to get revenge. 

He had taken Harrehanl back and he knew he should have come home. But then the witch, the very same who had forced a man to rip out his own tongue, had spoken to him, talking about visions and flames, of predictions that happened to be alarmingly accurate, of him sitting on the Iron Throne with the Conqueror’s Crown on his silver head.

And he saw an opportunity, however blurry, to set things right, as they should have been in the beginning. He saw a way to get the upper hand in this war. And furthermore, as much as he did not realize it, he had found a way to stay away from the Keep. He would rather dare with witchcraft than return home and hear Helaena's wails cutting through doors and walls, and through his heart.

But next to the guilt had come the shame, for he had turned his back on his wife, for he could imagine the filth their enemies and non would spread, like shit flowing in the sewers.

He had tried to confine her to the back of his mind, but she became heavier and heavier as the days passed, along with the scarce letters in which he never mentioned the Rivers bastard.

She, of course, had sensed it immediately.

“You can’t win this war if your mind is elsewhere.” She had said one night, on one of his visits to her room.

He always stayed on the threshold, arms laced behind and poorly disguised distrust stretching his features.

“I told you to stay out of my fucking head.”

“You need not worry, my Prince.” She retorted with a chilling smile “I can’t play with your head. It’s too heavy…and ugly. And this woman…oh, she’s eating you alive.”

The witch is gone now, and yet she is still there.

She lingers on the walls of his chambers like a ghost, she imposes a wall between him and his wife and perhaps neither of them is strong enough to climb it. So, for days they just circle one another like wounded animals.

The Princess is staying with him of course. He has forbidden her to leave his side and she has caved, on one condition though. She has given him three days to deal with the Riverlands and then they will go home, together, where they are needed, where the mighty dreadful Vhagar is needed.

The day before their departure, Aemond returns victorious from the Riverlands. He has gained the allegiance of the lords in a way Visenya Targaryen would be proud of.

He will never forget the Lords' faces draining of color, probably pissing themselves, as Vhagar roared a war chant in the sky, and tongues of fire brushed the lands as warning.

He enters the chambers quietly and sees her crouched on the floor as her hands dig into a drawer, pulling out papers that she carelessly drops to the ground. Aemond closes the door firmly, announcing his presence, and she looks at him for a single moment before sighing in defeat, closing the drawer.

“Looking for my love letters?” he teases, for the first time after days of loud silence.

“I was looking for ink, actually.” she says looking below a paper left on the table. “Besides…love letters from you? Ghastly.” 

He can’t fight back the smirk curling his mouth as she walks close to him and begins removing the armor. He looks at her face and she’s stern, almost rigid in her gestures, in the way she touches him, as if she despises doing it and yet she can’t help herself.

He doesn’t have a clue.

He doesn’t know that her stiffness has nothing to do with contempt. He doesn’t have a clue of how much she aches for him. Of how much she wants for him to take her, fast and rough, as he often used to do, because she can’t stand to be treated like some porcelain doll to be cocooned thanks to his child growing inside her belly. She wants to be more than that, she demands to be his wife again.

“Have you eaten?” he asks her, gently, and she wants to break something.

She can’t stand it anymore. She can’t stand all the questions.

Did you eat? Did you rest? Did you sleep?

“Is this how is going to be from now on?” she asks looking up “You acting as if you are my maid?”

He clenches his jaw and his face turns stern just like hers.

“First you accuse me to have forsaken you and now you don’t want my attention. Make peace with your mind, wife.”

“I want you to be my husband.” She says getting close to him until she smells dragon and ashes.

She wants to bathe in it. “I want to be your wife.”

Aemond’s eye lingers down on her throat, on her constricted chest, and his lips part. “You are.” He vows, locking his eye on her.

“Prove it.” She whispers tilting her head with a challenge dancing on her parted lips, hovering against his.

He is one breath away from swallowing her whole but he stops, melding their breaths in one, and he grins. “Are you going to bite me again?”

“As if you didn’t like that.”

A moment later his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her lip, her neck. His hands are everywhere, frantic and needy. She can feel he’s restraining from holding her too tight, but she wants, no, she needs more. She wants him in her bones.

They move without logic, clinging to each other, trying to assert dominance on one another. He grabs her wrists and forces her down on the chaise beside the hearth. He is looking at her in the same old way, as if he’s blind to anything else. She aches so much for him that she’s breathing hard, the word please climbs her throat, slides on her tongue, but she will not beg for him.

In all truth, she doesn’t have to.

He kneels on the ground like a pious man at the altar, and she hikes up her skirts, spreading her legs to place them on his shoulders, heels pressing on his back to bring him close.

“You know what you want, don’t you?” He teases with a feral grin.

“Curse you and your hideous smirk.” She says sliding on the chair to bring her apex close to his overly talkative mouth.

“You love my smirk.” He says grabbing her thighs to secure them around his face. “Besides, I’m already cursed.” He leaves a red mark biting on the soft skin of her thigh, looking straight at her and how she startles, whining in half pain half pleasure.

She catches a glimpse of the sapphire glinting between her thighs before her eyes fall shut and she moans unnaturally loud as he licks a stripe along her wet folds and up to her apex.

She is trembling with anticipation, with arousal that pools from her, glistening his mouth and nose. Her hips begin bucking against him and he moans contentedly as he buries his tongue inside her, lapping and tasting like a starved beast.

Her breath grows shorter and shorter for how close she is already, so much that he stops to look at her with a spiteful grin. “Already? Gods, you must have missed me terribly.”

“Shut up.” She whispers hoarsely and pulls herself up just enough to grab his head, pulling his hair to force him to take where he left off. Her hips are rocking on their own against his face, nails scratching his scalp harder and harder as she comes undone in his mouth, while he hums with pleasure, drinking of all her. Eye fixed on her as he watches her throw her head back, spasming and trembling with a loud moan.

Her back hits the back of the chaise as she catches her breath and looks at the black ceiling in a moment of pure bliss. Two moons of anguish are but a distant memory, her mind is foggy, she doesn’t even remember the face of the witch.

He dismantles her legs from his neck and she looks down at him, cheeks red, watching as he climbs on her, unbuckling his belt.

“No.” she says, and she stops his hands. “Do you think I would make it so easy for you?”

Aemond looks at her, half puzzled half curious, and then she pushes him down, overturning their positions so now she’s sitting on his lap, feeling all of his hard length against her.

“It’s my turn to prove it.” She says raising an arm that goes on the mantelpiece behind them.

“Prove what?”

“That you’re my mine.” She promises, and Aemond hears the distinct sound of metal clinking.

She lowers her arm and he sees a pair of chains between her fingers. He is bold enough to smirk at her. “I thought you were the one who wished to be chained.”

“I’m not the one in need of a lesson.”

She grabs his wrist but he easily pulls away. “What if I don’t want to?” but there’s an intriguing glint in his eye, on the edges of his arched mouth.

“Then who will take care of you?” she asks with fake innocence, grinding on his cock, and she smiles as the air comes out of his mouth in a hiss. “Are you sure your hand will suffice?”

He looks at her with challenge, breathing slowly through his mouth, and he caves.

“Chain me.”

She smiles darkly and grabs his wrists, fastening the chains and then locking them to the sides of the chair. She stands and grabs his legs, sliding his back further down.

She notices his eyebrow rising and she looks at him. "I want you to be comfortable. I'm afraid this will not end so soon."

He swallows with anticipation and watches her as she slowly climbs back on top of him and begins to unbutton his doublet., pushing the fabric aside to reveal his diaphanous pale chest and her hand slides over it, over his ribs, stomach, and navel, halting his breath.

Her lips hover against his, swallowing his shallow breath, but suddenly her head dips down, leaving a trail of little heated kisses on his neck, on the planes of his chest.

He watches as she does that, feeling her lips like burning embers marking his skin. Her eyes lock on him and she opens her mouth engulfing one of his nipples, circling her tongue around it. He tilts his head back, lips parting to let a puff of scorching air out, and then she's grazing her teeth over the soft pink skin.

The chains metal clink as he winces.

She grins pulling herself up and slides a bit down his legs with her bottom, so she has open room to his belt. She begins unbuckling it, looking at him, watching the glare he’s giving her.

“I can’t tell whether you want to kill me or fuck me.”

“I need you to fucking do something.”

“Like what?” she asks, palming his cock through the fabric “Tell me, husband. I may grant your wish.”

He rocks his hips in one slow movement, trying to feel every inch of her hand, but it’s a faint touch that only makes him ache for more. “Move, grind on me.” His voice is imperative as always, but his tone is different—all heated and husky.

She frees him of the constricting belt and breeches and lays on him, releasing a blissful sigh when she feels the hot hard flesh colliding perfectly against her core. The chains clink again as he tries to move and she smiles, caging his snatched waist between her legs.

Aemond is panting quietly, trying to get a grip on his own body but he finds it’s a useless fight when he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt.

But then his wife seems in favour of granting him some mercy. She starts grinding on him and his lips part some more, panting loudly this time, as he feels, and hears, the beautiful obscene sounds her wet flesh is making rubbing on him.

“Lift up your skirts. Let me see.”

She stops grinding and he almost whines with annoyance, moving his chained wrists in a useless attempt to grab her waist and force her to move again.

“I don’t like that tone, husband.” She says, and her voice is husky as well, her breath labored “Ask nicely.”

Aemond is silently starting to regret this whole thing. Patience was never one of his virtues, if he even has virtues. He’s completely at her mercy and cannot do anything but comply.

“Please. Lift your fucking skirts and let me see.”

“Hmm.” She hums smiling. “Better.”

Her skirts turn into a bundle of fabric around her waist and he dips his chin, looking straight at their flesh as she resumes her torture.

“Fuck” he utters, his eye growing heavy but he keeps looking, and he doesn’t have a clue whether it’s the rubbing or the mere sight of her coating his cock that draws a moan out of his throat.

“Do you see how I much I’ve missed you?” she asks hoarsely, grinding more and more firmly.

His head hits the back of the chair as he keeps panting and rocking his hips against her, lifting his waist as if desperately trying to slide inside her.

“I touched myself every morning. I woke up all wet and aching for you. And where were you? Here, plotting with your witch.”

“Enough of that fucking witch.” he croaks, a sheen of sweat is ghosting on his forehead. “Faster.”

She does the opposite. She stops altogether. And this time, he can’t do nothing to muffle the whimper gushing out of his trembling mouth.

The Princess tilts her head, savoring each moment, and soon his piercing glare comes back even sharper. “Once I’m free of these fucking chains, I’m going to fuck you senseless till morning.”

“Unless you are still chained to this chair in the morning.”

He watches as her hands hover on his thighs, a feather touch that drives him mad, that makes his hips buck uselessly. His lips twist, swallowing a plead his pride won’t allow him to let go.

But she hears it nonetheless, in the way his fingers flex and twist, in his chest raising fastly. It may suffice, but it doesn’t.

“Stubborn, are we?” she teases, just like her hands, barely touching down his navel. “Your witch got it right. She said you are too stubborn, that’s why she couldn’t play with your head. She couldn’t handle you.” her fingertips finally dip down and she can see the silent plead in his eye.

“I can, though.” her palm brushes the tip and he whimpers, again.

“Please…” he whispers impossibly low, too low for her liking.

“Louder, my love.”

His mouth twists again but the need, the ache is so heavy that it burns out all the pride numbing his tongue. 

“Please…” he begs freely “Please, touch me.”

A groan rolls out of him as she finally grabs it, squeezing softly before starting a slow rhythm up and down. He pants loudly, hips moving on their own as he tries to fuck her hand with a steadier pace. “Don’t rush it.” she scolds him, placing a firm hand on his waist to stop his frantic movements.

“I can’t take it…let me come…”

“Already? Gods, you must have missed me terribly.”

“You’re cursed, woman.”

“Takes one to know one. A curse for a curse.”

She looks at him, hair all ruffled and sweaty on his forehead, a painful pleading expression twisting his sharp features and she smiles victorious. “I have half a mind to leave you like this.” She says and for a moment, he dreads she’s being serious.

“Luckily for you, I’m just as greedy as you are.”

In a swift moment she nestles between his legs and he’s moaning loudly before he even has time to register anything, except her lips locking around his tip, sucking so harshly he thinks she’s going to utterly drain him.

She starts a steady pace, just as he likes it, taking all of him, down to the base untili it hits the back of her throat. The chains clink and clink against the chair as he twists his wrists, bucking his hips harshly to fuck her mouth as deeper as he can, enthralled by the lewd sounds she’s making.

“Gods, yes…” he moans watching carefully as he slips in and out of her “Yes…just like that, just a little more…”

She feels him tense inside her mouth, she feels him tense all over and she knows he’s dangerously close. She stops for a moment, licking her lips and looks at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break the rule.”

Aemond groans with frustration, not having the faintest idea of what she’s talking about. He isn’t even sure he remembers his own name. He is just blood boiling and bones so tense they’re close to snap.

“What was it again?” she asks “Ah, yes. My seed belongs in your cunt.” She leaves a trail of soft kisses on his hard flesh and he whimpers once more. “My ever-romantic husband.”

“Fuck the rule, you’re driving me mad. Let me come.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please.” He begs “Please let me come in your mouth.”

The Princess is merciful enough to grant his wish. She engulfs him once more and he moans loudly for how sensitive he is. She picks up the pace and pride washes over her, pooling between her legs, as she sees him writhing beneath her, moaning with his mouth open, eye closed shut and the chains clink like a frantic bell while he twists his scratched red wrists.

He curses and mumbles nonsense under his breath until he stills completely letting out a long and loud grunt, spilling abundantly inside her mouth. She swallows to the last drop, gently sucking the pulsing tip.

The chains are finally still and silent. He’s breathing hard and short with his head thrown back, staring at the ceiling without seeing anything.

That is until he winces, feeling her hand on his sensitive skin. He raises his head to look at her, almost puzzled. She smiles slyly, moving her hand up and down. “Did you think it was over?”

If he did not feel so spent, he would be utterly thrilled and definitely flattered.

“Seven Hells, woman, give me a bre—” words die on his tongue wiped out by a hoarse gasp as she takes him in her mouth again. But this time, she sucks so slowly that Aemond actually whines in pain. And she looks straight at him, while her head bobs, relishing every moment, watching as he comes undone beneath her, babbling pleads, begging her to stop and a moment later to keep going. His voice is breaking, cracking as he whines and whimpers, poised between pain and pleasure.

Soon though, she hears more whines of pleasure than pain, as gets harder and harder in the hot haven of her mouth.

Suddenly she stops, and just stares, savoring the sight before her. The cruel Aemond One Eye, chained to a chair in a mess of sweat and sobs.

“Untie me…” he says, trying to make it sound like an order, but it’s a pale imitation of his usual tone. His words are slow, sluggish.

“You are not in charge here, my love.”

“Then quit the act and fuck me.”

Perhaps, if she wasn’t so equally desperate for him, if she wasn’t leaking between her thighs, she would have prolonged this torture, this excruciatingly sweet punishment. But she can’t take it anymore.

She climbs on him, and it takes her the least effort to let him slide inside her. He slips his back further down that chaise so that his hips are angled just enough to thrust into her, fast and steady.

“Oh Gods—yes!” she moans throwing her head back, frantically bouncing on him.

“D’you miss this?” he rasps, with a tinge of his usual infuriating confidence “Did you think of this when you touched yourself? Missed my cock inside you, hmm?”

She clamps a hand on his mouth to shush him and he bites her palm, thrusting even harder, making her whine loudly until her throat goes dry and her sight go white. They fall in a wild frenzy, utterly intoxicated with each other, leaving bites and marks all over, sealing one inside the other with a curse much more dangerous than any kind of witchcraft.  

They come together, as she clutches his head to her chest so tight that he can barely breathe. He rests his head on the chair, slowly catching his breath, and she nestles against him, still sank on him.

He moves his hands to touch her, wincing for his aching wrists.

“Untie me now, would you?” he asks softly on the crown of her head.

“I’m not sure.” She muses against his chest. “I’ve quite enjoyed having you at my mercy.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

She moves her head to look at him, a little smile starting to light up her face and he looks down at her lips, mirroring her.

“Besides, it’s your turn.”

She raises her eyebrows fighting back a smile. “Now?”

“Haven’t you heard? No man is so accursed as me.”  

PART III

[wwinterwitch]

cowboy like me — coriolanus snow

summary: it takes one to know one. you and him were exactly alike, which explains why you were inevitably drawn to each other

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tags: you can't fix him you're as awful as him, being delusional together, fluff??? (not really but u guys are in love and happy and married), mentions of/implied murder and being bad people, romanticizing everything

notes: idk where i was going with this i just had this idea in my head and taylor inspired me to write it. i'm also absolutely feral for young!snow it's not even funny at this point, i needed to find ways to cope lmao

i'd really appreciate a comment or reblog if you enjoy my work.

masterlists | read on ao3

A smile appears on your face the second you feel a hand on your lower back, turning around to meet your husband's loving gaze.

He stands directly in front of you, staring down at you in a way that to this day makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, like you're nothing but a teenage girl who's unlucky enough to have developed a blinding crush on a guy too charming for his own good— the thought of it makes you feel almost nostalgic, looking back at the early stages of your relationship.

Coriolanus Snow has always been a familiar face. Growing up together, you two have known each other for ages. You might've interacted a few times, but nothing beyond brief conversations between classmates.

You had a boyfriend at the time. A much too sweet and caring guy that made the big mistake of falling irrevocably in love with you. In all fairness, it was hard for him not to trail behind you like a lost puppy all the time when you were so good at making foolish boys believe you were the girl of their dreams.

Love is not a word you would use to describe your relationship. He was tolerable and clearly obsessed with you, so it made sense for you to stay with him. He learned with time that buying you very expensive gifts would get you to pay more attention to him, so that became his way of showing his affection for you.

In his mind this was perfectly reasonable. His girl likes being spoiled, so that's exactly what he did. The adoration for you blinded him enough to ignore the truth: you're just sticking around for the money. Some people warned him you were bad news, but you always managed to find a way to make him worship you all over again. Maybe you could've felt sorry for him at some point...if only he didn't have such good taste to pick things out for you.

But then Coriolanus happened. You started to notice him more and more until you inevitably started having feelings for him. How could you not fall for a guy like him? Especially after he started his quick ascend as one of the best Game makers in history.

Maybe it was the way he so fervently claimed his interest in you, willing to pursue you even when your boyfriend was still in the picture. Or perhaps it had to do with his growing popularity and power. After all, you can't deny how attracted you are to guys with ambition.

And Coriolanus is not exactly sure what made him fall for you either. There's many things he loves about you, that's for sure, but he can't say which came first. Was it your captivating beauty and intelligence, or the news that you recently became the only heir to one of the wealthiest families in the Capitol?

Whatever force pulled the two of you together, it really doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that he loves you with every fiber of his being, willing to do whatever is in his power to make sure you're happy (and what isn't, he'll do anything to get). And you love him too, of course, offering him a companionship he always craved— undying fidelity, the purest honesty and understanding.

You've never once judged him for being who he is. If anything, you seem to admire his strength to do whatever it takes to secure his place in society. No one has ever been this loving and accepting, almost encouraging him to be as determined as ever to get the two of you on top.

Whatever he did or didn't do is already in the past. Why should the past matter? Shouldn't you enjoy the present with your loving and successful husband? Be proud of the work the two of you have done to get where you are?

No, the past is gone. It already happened. There’s no need to look back at things you can't change and decisions you can't take back. It all brought you here. Every tiny little decision led the two of you to this moment; married, in love, happy, powerful. It was meant to be like this.

He didn't seem to mind about your own past either. Any other person would've judged you for the difficult decisions you had to make in order to become the wealthiest woman in all of Panem. You've seen it in the face of ex friends and lovers. They never understood your hunger for what you so rightfully deserve.

Good things don't happen to people because they're good. They happen because you make them happen. You fight, you take, you conquer. It's what life is, and it's something you and Coriolanus understand perfectly. That's why the two of you make sense. Why it feels so right to be together. You understand him and he understands you— understands you like no one else has in your entire life.

It was him the one who held you that night when you just couldn't hold it in anymore, and he sat with you while you cried and cried about your beloved sister, because even after all those years you still missed her and wished things could've been different.

If only your parents made it easier for you. They shouldn't have played favorites from the moment you were born. And they really shouldn't mess with something as important as inheritance. It's your goddamn birthright! How could they be so cruel to you? If they corner you against the wall with no apparent way to escape, it was a matter of time before you decided to stand your ground.

It's a shame your poor sister had to suffer the consequences, though. You really do love her...

Coriolanus couldn't judge you even if he tried. He could see himself in your tear-filled eyes and hear his own inconsolable sobs through your voice. It took him back to a particularly difficult point in his life where he had to make a similar choice.

He pours his heart out to you as he holds you tight against his body, revealing all the unfortunate things he was forced to do because it's all that was left. An act-or-die situation that kept repeating itself until he had no other choice but to do the unspeakable. What else was he supposed to do? What else were you supposed to do?

The regret in his voice is evident, and you know he does regret it because he’s a good person with a heart of gold. One of the best people you’ve ever met in your life. He’s good, and brave, and passionate…enough to sacrifice what he loves if the circumstances require that of him. Not many people have the privilege to claim to be as great as him.

"You did what you had to," your voice came out in a soft whisper, still affected by your sudden outburst with the thought of your sister engraved deep inside your brain. At the time you thought you were trying to ease his conscience, but maybe your statement was falling from your lips in a weak attempt to ease your own inner conflict too. "Life has been so unfair to us, Coriolanus. Is it too bad that we want just a little bit of peace?"

He stays quiet for a bit, stroking your hair in hopes to bring you some comfort as he processes your hopeless, pain-filled statement. That's probably the hardest thing about loving you; caring so much that he cannot possibly function if he knows you're hurting, and cursing himself for not being able to take that pain away. 

"We'll have peace," he eventually assures you. His voice is soft, yet fiercely determined. There's no room for discussion. He'll make it happen for the two of you. What's a few more difficult choices when he's so far gone now? When he knows it has worked perfectly before and it made all his dreams come true?

In that moment, snuggled up to his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, it was clear. That sense of familiarity you only get when you look back in the mirror, or when you quickly scan a room when someone speaks your name. He has suffered as much as you. He knows what it's like to be mistreated in life, and how difficult it is sometimes to live with the fact that you had to leave people behind to finally taste a drop of happiness.

The guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it's easier to remember you had no choice, but other times all you can think about is what life could've been if you weren't forced to take such drastic measures. Perhaps now that you have someone who truly understands, you'll learn to always remember you deserve all you managed to achieve.

When you move back from him to look up into his welcoming and comforting blue eyes, you knew you'd never be alone again. You'll never get to experience this free-fall, soul-consuming feeling with anyone else. And why would you even want to waste your time like that, when you already found the one person who sees the world exactly like you do? 

A love like this is hard to find. Most people spend a lifetime trying to find a love decent enough to make them feel like they're losing their minds. Like the air is missing from their lungs and everything looks much darker when the other is not around. Like they're willing to do anything to make the other happy. Like the fear of being consumed entirely by it is the sweetest of fates.

You thought you could only experience affection in the form of luxurious jewelry, fancy clothing and all that came with the important status your ex boyfriend provided. At one point, you could say you almost needed him. Or least needed his money. He provided a safety net you desperately needed after your stupid parents decided to leave everything to your annoyingly perfect sister.

After becoming the only heir in your family (it really is a shame that your sister was gone so soon, poor thing), your boyfriend was no longer a necessity, but a way of distracting yourself when you needed it. It's not like you're going to refuse his gifts and attention anytime soon, right?

But that was it. The furthest it can get to what being in love should look like. And that was what your relationship with Coriolanus should have been when you decided to make your way into his heart. Never in a million years would you have expected to meet a soul that matches yours in even the tiniest of details, that loves so deeply and cares enough to act like it's required to survive. 

With his arms still surrounding your body in a protective and comforting manner, you knew he’d be the guy you’d spend the rest of your life with. You knew it long before the day he got down on one knee, professing his undying love for you and offering the most beautiful engagement ring you have ever seen in your life. You pledged to always be there for him and, in return, he vowed to give you the world— he'd find a way to reach the night sky and collect every single star for you if that's what you ask of him. You kept each other's deepest secrets like they were your own. Two smart and ambitious people joining together in their search for greatness.

The hand on your lower back now rests against your cheek, tracing your skin in such a delicate manner that it almost makes you shiver. The white rose attached to his impeccable burgundy suit is slightly tilted to the right, fixing it with your hands as soon as your eyes notice that detail.

He smiles wider after your gesture, leaning down to capture your lips in an affectionate kiss to show his gratitude. You wish the moment could last longer, but you know it's impossible to stay behind these walls for longer when there's a loud crowd out there chanting your husband's name.

There's the briefest of interactions when he breaks the kiss, the two of you standing in front of each other with a smile of pure conspiracy— a silent recognition of the work individually done to get here, an unspoken ‘thank you’ to one another for the team effort, and the promise of a never-ending companionship that would only take you higher.

He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours before finally stepping outside to the marble balcony. Before you, a sea of people cheer and welcome the new President and First Lady of Panem.

[tzuberry]

(cute) things zerobaseone maknae line do as your boyfriend ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, established relationship, bulletpoint

cw none ⠀⠀⠀wc 410, 418, 505, 462 (1,795 overall)⠀⠀⠀reading time 12 minutes

note HELLOOOO i havent posted a fic since july 15th and that was my first fic ever on this account omg... thank u for all the notes on my other post LIKE i didnt expect so much + thank you for 90 followers!! also i might start writing for tiot and evnne if i have time 🫡 likes are reblogs are appreciated if u can 💟

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ricky 리키

lets you play with his hair

i think ricky is honestly extremely particular with his hair, and especially who gets to touch it

his hair isn’t very visibly damaged despite getting it dyed frequently / basically not having black hair since he was probably fifteen years old (and he’s nineteen now, so that says something) so he has to take good care of it not to have it fried off

there were stories about him during bopeul where they said they always saw him fully ready with perfectly styled hair whenever he left his room, too

like i’m not even kidding he has to care for his hair a whole lot or by now he could’ve been bald i’m sorry

when his friends—mainly gyuvin—try to play with his hair or comb their fingers through it, ricky allows it but is not that pleased because he put effort into styling his hair and doesn’t want it to get messed up

gyuvin jokingly whines a little, but is over it after a few seconds

when ricky started dating you, although he thoroughly knew you and almost all of your habits and mannerisms, he didn’t think you would be into playing with his hair

you’re hanging out, watching a movie at your apartment while your head is rested on his shoulder when he feels your fingers suddenly brush through the strands of his hair

he turns to look at you, partly shocked but also just wondering what you’re planning on doing to his hair

you shrug your shoulders, keeping your eyes on the tv and not minding him one bit

“what are you doing?” he asks, a little amused

he expects you to reply playfully, to exchange banter or something like that

but instead, you say, “your hair is really soft, you know,” as you proceed to curl a portion with your finger acting as the curling iron

ricky quite literally folded that day... now he lets you do whatever you want with his hair

you can braid it, curl it, whatever

he doesn’t mind as long as it’s you, even if he spent nearly an hour fixing it this morning

you’re in a cafe talking to gyuvin and gunwook, sitting at the other side of the table when you lift your arm to twirl ricky’s hair, him not remotely flinching at the contact

gyuvin is pleasantly surprised to witness this sight

“you don’t let me do that,” he sulks, aimed at ricky

your boyfriend scoffs. “you’re not [name].”

gyuvin 규빈

always texts you + makes sure you’ve eaten

okay i think i’ve seen a lot of people say this already idk but i think it’s soooo true

gyuvin texts you excessively

like. about anything

there was one instance when his little brother had a crush on a girl, and gyuvin literally went to you for help and his brother didn’t even have an inkling of what was happening

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): [NAME] MY LITTLE BROTHER... is... growing up :(

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): he used to be so small i could put him in my pocket and now

yn: what happened???

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): he LIKES A GIRL. who told him it was okay to get a girlfriend? at his toddler age??

yn: gyuvin i love you but we started dating when We were his age

and then he continued to ask you for advice on how to help his brother get the girl he liked

there’s more instances of him oversharing his brother’s life with you, but that ends there

he also buys you snacks all the time

even if you don’t want it. even if you verbally, very clearly, straightforwardly tell him you’re not the tiniest bit hungry

he’s basically your mother oml

he makes those little snack baggies for you to take

before you both graduated, gyuvin would bring you lunch. it didn’t just stop at snacks

he would ask his mom to help him cook for you

and he’d make it all cute and stuff like shaping the rice to be your favorite character

he’d pack it to school and give it to you in the morning. omg

mixing those two things together, you get “have you eaten yet” texts all the time

it’s two pm, and you were so stuck while helping a friend that you regrettably forgot to eat lunch. ‘it’s okay,’ you assure yourself, ‘i had a late breakfast’

gyuvin texts you, asking the usual “have you eaten lunch????” and you lie and say yes

and then your phone rings and you know you can’t avoid it anymore because he can see through your voice when you lie

from the speaker of your phone, gyuvin’s voice is unbelievably attractive—but you choose to ignore that fact for now

“[name],” he deadpans. “be honest. have you eaten?”

choosing to accept defeat, you exhale deeply. “no.”

gyuvin suddenly hangs up and only a text is left on your screen

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): i’m coming over in. like 30 minutes i have to ask my mom to help me cook

gunwook 건욱

teaches you how to dance

gunwook is SO good at dancing it’s so crazy

i love watching him on stage because he’s the best performer ever. like he seems to genuinely enjoy it and i hope he never loses that love for dancing / singing / rapping

you on the other hand..... you could be good at dancing too, just definitely not as good as gunwook

so whenever your scheduled dates are interrupted by his extracurriculars at school, you decide to tag along with him, if the members of his clubs don’t mind (which they usually don’t)

one of his extracurriculars is the dance team

and most of the time, when your preplanned dates are cancelled because of an extracurricular he has lined up for him, it is almost always dance

so you end up following him to the practice room, silently watching him in the corner so as to not obstruct their view of the mirror by sitting directly in front of them

his eyes light up with the flame of passion you adore so much, and you’re so content that even if your date is cancelled because of this, you’re not annoyed and you still get to indirectly spend some time with him by spectating him as he does what he likes

in the short breaks that he gets, he takes the opportunity to sit beside you on the floor and ask about your day

when the practice session ends, he asks if it’s okay with you if he stays to polish up the routine, to which you say yes and offer to stay with him because everyone else has started to leave

after a while, he grows tired and plops down next to you

gunwook chuckles. “i’m sorry for cancelling our date and making you stay with me.”

“it’s alright, i like watching you dance.” you smile

he abruptly stiffens up, irises reflecting the light, making his eyes glow excitedly. “do i dance well? what do you think?”

you giggle. “you dance very well. a lot better than i can, for sure.”

“mhm, yeah?” he grins widely, and you know what he’s going to do

gunwook jumps up on his feet, extending his hand out to you to help you get up

“you just need a little help.” he nods proudly. “you’re lucky i’m your boyfriend.”

you take his hand, and he leads you to the center of the room and he starts to dance with you ballroom style (???) like the waltz and stuff

he guides your arms over his shoulder to circle his neck, and his hands rest on your waist and then he starts counting, “4... 3... 2... 1... like this,” as he takes a singular step in different directions, encouraging you to mirror his movements

you almost trip, but you tightly cling on to his shoulders before you can fall

gunwook laughs. “enough dancing for today?”

“yes, please,” you agree, letting your body fall forwards into a hug with him

“alright. if you’re not that tired, are you still up for that date?”

yujin 유진

(tries to) initiate / enjoys physical touch

yujin doesn’t seem like his love language is physical touch.... i know gyuvin does it a lot to him and he kinda pretends to not like it but it’s so endearing and i sooo believe he deep down loves it

it’s the same with you, but he’s the one intiating it

he never thought he liked skinship all that much, because he would even jokingly say it pestered him a little at times when gyuvin would dote on him

but when it came to you, and when you first started dating, he was itching to hold your hand

it was so new to him because he never craved for anyone’s physical affection before

all his older friends like gyuvin and gunwook would always just.... initiate skinship for him and he thought he didn’t like it but

suddenly you come along, and you don’t even try to hold his hand

he thought couples were supposed to hold hands?? and hug??

but you’re not budging and it’s so frustrating

while walking you home from school like usual, as you tell him about your day, he tries to gather the courage to intertwine your hands

it doesn’t work, and he’s left with cold hands as he stares at you enter your front door

“next time,” he whispers to no one but the wind

next time comes and still... he’s too nervous to hold your hand

the distance between your palms is less than four inches, and all he has to do is take the leap—besides, nothing could go that wrong. you like him and he likes you

he purposely bumps the back of his hand with yours, but doesn’t actually take your hand in his

he awkwardly rubs his nape, unsure of what to do now

your brows knit together, as you’re now aware of yujin’s weird behavior

“yujin?” you tug on his uniform sleeve. “is something wrong?”

“no! nothing’s wrong,” he quickly denies, “don’t worry about it.”

“okay... can i see your hand, though?” you request, and it successfully confuses him because why do you want to see his hand?

he obliges, giving it to you palm up when you lace your fingers with his

“i’ve noticed you trying to hold my hand since last week,” you say, giggling. “i was waiting for you to do it, but i guess you’re too shy.”

“i’m not that shy,” yujin defends, looking down at your interlocked hands... ‘this is a good feeling,’ he thinks

you nod passively. “it’s fine. it’s one of the reasons why i like you.” you swing both your hands back and forth in the space between you

yujin doesn’t try to retort, only relishing the feeling of your hand in his

skinship isn’t so bad... maybe he could get used to this.

[teddiesworldd]

could you do a pt2 of the zombie outbreak with ghost, maybe the zombie outbreak ends and they get used to being a normal couple? idk

after the world ends (p2)

this is part two of my ghost apocalypse au, you can read part one here!

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1 and for this request which inspired part 2! i hope it's what you imagined <3 (1k words)

pairing: simon ghost riley x reader

tags/warnings: apocalypse au, fluffy, some descriptions similar to ptsd, starting a family, the ending they deserved ;')

day 154 of the apocalypse, 5 months after the first outbreak, 2 months after the second.

time creeped on slowly as the days melted into weeks, and then months. you’d become quite accustomed to life behind the fence, picking up various skills to make yourself useful in camp. the others had taught you everything you needed to know. you could now fish, hunt, cook - survival was something that came so naturally now, it was like your life before never happened. like it had always been this way. on your trips out of camp with soap, you had noticed shoots of grass and leaves sprouted up through the concrete over time and covered your city in an overwhelming green haze. 

other than the odd trip outside the safety of the fence, your days were calm and laid back. you often spent them laying out by the river with simon, watching the water flow past in the warm spring air. more recently though, you’d looked after the german shepherd you had found with soap in the city, which you had lovingly named riley after your love. there was always plenty to do - things needed fixing up, whether that be the equipment or each other. 

in the evenings, you no longer watched soap and ghost talking from your tent - you sat alongside them at the campfire, simon’s large hand holding yours. you shared stories of your lives before the outbreak, dreaming of what you’d do when the world turned the right way around again - if that would ever happen. and when your conversations died down, simon led you to his bed and you spent the night with your head on his chest, listening to his faint heartbeat to drown out the sounds of the infected who got too close to the fence.

it wasn’t all smooth sailing; some of the others in camp had fallen sick and the nearest pharmacy was completely stripped by other groups, leaving nothing to treat your own wounded campmates. illness spread like wildfire here and all you could do was nurse their wounds and cook hot meals to lift their spirits and provide warmth. a few lost their lives to disease or to the zombies, but most fought on, struggling through the days.

you’ll never forget the moment when you heard about the cure. 

head resting on simon’s shoulder, swaying gently to the faint crackle of the radio. his hands gently gripping to your waist, holding you close like he never wanted to let you go. it was a routine that you both had for a few weeks now, after your first night together in the tent. rocking gently to the music as the sun glowed shades of pink and orange in the late evening. "my girl, i'll marry you when this is over." he'd tell you every time you held each other like this. simon had never felt so enamoured with someone in his whole life. he couldn't wait for the day you shared his last name. it was what kept him going through all this - the thought of living a normal life with you on the other side. soap sat nearby, cleaning up whatever he’d found during the day, cheesing over the action figures he found in the house he raided, watching as you and simon fell utterly in love with each other.

the music cut off and the announcer said that a cure had been developed to treat the infected. and suddenly you remembered everything that you had left behind 5 months ago.

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four years later, you sat out on the porch of your home with a cold drink, watching simon play with your daughter in the backyard. he proposed to you as soon as you heard the radio broadcast and you married shortly after normality returned, falling pregnant and buying a house together. it never really got any easier - cuts turned into scars and memories of your days in camp turned sour, plaguing your dreams. often you’d wake up in a cold sweat, fear running through you like you were still there. but simon never failed to bring you back to earth again, stroking your hair and shushing you to sleep again. soap visited often, riley always jumping up at him madly as he stumbled through the front door. your daughter had grown accustomed to calling him “uncle johnny”, which he loved and it made him well up the first time he heard her say it.

nothing would really be the same again - you had lost most of your friends and family, and the world never quite got back to the way it was before.

but in a way, that was okay. because so much good came from it. 

“mommy, look!” you daughter giggled madly from the bottom of the garden. you snapped out of your thoughts, eyes landing on your 4-year-old daughter who was halfway up the tree at the bottom of the lawn.

“i- i did try to tell ‘er not to,” simon sighed, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “but you know what she’s like... little adventurer.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d gone up there - she climbed up it like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“reminds me of someone i know.” simon said, looking down at you in your chair, nothing but love in his eyes. he kissed you sweetly, reminding you of the first time your lips touched that night in your tent. 

“i’ll start making dinner, yeah?” he finished, hand gently squeezing your arm before heading into the kitchen. you really did get so lucky the day you crossed paths in the woodland.

“can someone help me down?!” your daughter shouted, riley barking up at her playfully as she clinged tightly to the branches.

“yeah, honey, i’m coming” you replied, placing down your drink and heading down the garden.

˚✧. thank you for reading!

˚✧.please reblog to support me <3

˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis

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💌 send a request

[tcubunny]

switch!tzuyu x switch!fem!reader - “trying our best” (warnings: smut, praise, breast play, scissoring, clit stimulation, oral)

a/n: thank u to my pookie @soyeonsbabygirl for proof reading 🤗 first time writing for tzuyu, kinda nervy. i’ve had this idea in my head from the second i thought up this au. small issue that we’re going to fix with our imagination, as always: let’s pretend jyp is strict on hotel rooms and if the company placed/booked/whatever-the-balls two specific members in a room, they HAVE to the be ones who share it🙏idk if i’m lying ab the switch tags bc i think that’s what’s happening, but idk tbh. maybe if i feel generous in the future ill write a fic about how her and the reader ended up getting caught and what their punishment was. for now, much love and enjoy pookabutts😘

word count: 1.8k

“goodnight you two, don’t do anything you know you’re not supposed to.”

jeongyeon warns and gives you and tzuyu a kiss before walking to the door and shutting it behind her.

you and tzuyu are the best girls for your unnies, you never get in trouble. your notoriously great behavior has fully merited their trust, yet letting you two share a hotel room still seemed risky. everyone insisted that being alone with each other would be too tempting, but there was nothing they could do about it.

you both promised—specifically to jihyo that you would sleep on separate beds, and wouldn’t try anything, and you plan to follow through on that promise.

“are you tired?” tzuyu’s voice bellows throughout the room. “i guess.” you get up and lock the door before walking to the other bed. “well, goodnight.” tzuyu turns off her bedside lamp and lays down, draping the covers over herself.

“goodnight.” you do the same as her and get comfortable. you close your eyes, trying your best to clear your head, but you’re far too hyper-aware of the fact that she’s right next to you. you really wouldn’t dare disobey the others, but it’s all you can think about.

the minutes rush by and you still can’t manage to fall asleep, completely immersed in your less than holy thoughts about tzuyu. you toss and turn, but nothing works.

“y/n, are you asleep?” you hear a murmur in the dark and turn to face tzuyu’s bed. “no.” there’s a few seconds of awkward silence before tzuyu speaks up again.

“i know we said we wouldn’t, but do you want to sleep with me? i just feel so isolated.” you think about it for a second, you desperately want to say yes, but you know you can’t. “tzuyu…”

“please, they won’t find out. the door is locked and they have no other way of checking on us.” she is correct, there’s no way they can find out unless they enter the room, which they can’t do if the door is locked. and you always lock the door when you’re in a hotel; it wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

“okay…” you get up and walk to her bed, hesitantly joining her under the covers. you turn away from her, too scared that you won’t be able to control yourself if you face her. you both say goodnight again and the deafening silence returns.

falling asleep is significantly more difficult now that tzuyu is right next to you. you can feel the warmth emanating off her body and you want nothing more than to turn around and kiss her. you can also feel your own warmth stretching from your flustered cheeks to your aching core.

“i can’t sleep.” you’re jolted out of your trance of sorts by tzuyu turning on the light. you turn to look at her and she sits up against the headboard, so you do the same. “me neither.” you reply, trying to hide your reddened face.

“i’m bored.” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “me too.” you look around the room, trying to think of something else to continue the conversation. “you think the others are asleep?” she exhales before answering. “let’s think critically here, none of them can keep their hands off each other.” you look down at the floor. “yeah…”

you both sit without saying anything. having her so close but not being able to touch her how you want is absolute torture. you bite down on your thumb as a weak attempt to distract yourself, but it doesn’t work in the slightest.

you look over at her, head tossed back on the bed frame, eyes closed, and arms inside her shirt. you’ve never been one to make impulsive decisions, but your desire for her completely takes over.

“tzuyu…” you call out, inching closer to her. “wha-“

you crash your lips into hers, cutting off her sentence. the kiss is slow and sends heatwaves straight to your core. her lips feel amazing, you swear you’ll never be able to separate from them. you let your tongue wander inside her mouth and she gladly takes it in. you entangle it with hers, lifting your hand to cup her face.

she pulls away and you whine in frustration. “we can’t.” her actions greatly differ from her words; she tugs the collar of your shirt towards her and continues kissing you.

“why not?” you repeat the pattern of pulling away and going right back to the heated kiss every time either of you speaks. “we promised.” “they won’t find out,” you pause your sentence to keep tasting her “like you said, the door is locked.”

it appears you’ve fully convinced her as she pulls you closer and makes you straddle her. you let your hands get lost in her hair as she grabs your face.

you can already feel a pool of slick collecting on your underwear while you’re squirming on her lap. the air in the room suddenly feels hot and your clothes start feeling like a burden.

“take off your clothes.” you instruct, getting up to do the same. you toss your things to the side, not caring where it lands. you watch as tzuyu rips everything off and crawls to the edge of the bed to sit.

you admire her body with a smirk before pushing her down and getting on top of her. the truth is, neither of you has any experience with being in control, but you’ll have to make do.

“you’re so pretty.” you whisper in her ear, moving your mouth down to her neck. “you’re so pretty.” you kiss her chest, making sure not to leave any new marks that the others could notice.

you gradually move lower until you reach her tits. you take one of the into your mouth and she lets out a loud moan. you slap your hand over her mouth to shush her.

“nayeon and jeongyeon are right beside us, do you really want them to hear?” you take your hand off and she brings her own hand to her mouth, urging you to keep going.

your mouth goes back to her tit, sucking and biting it gently. her choked moans make your pussy drip, you can’t wait any longer. you replace your mouth with your hand and tap on her thigh. “can you spread your legs?” “mhm.”

she does so and you swing one of your own legs over one of hers so that your pussy is directly aligned with hers.

you look into her eyes waiting for approval to go on, but she just pushes your hips down instead, making your soaked cunt collide with hers. you almost scream out from the feeling, but bite down on your finger to stop yourself.

you gyrate your hips, twitching slightly every time your clits touch. “you’re so fucking hot.” tzuyu coos from beneath you and pulls you down to her lips. you moan and whine into her mouth, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

you no longer care in the slightest about how many rules you’re breaking, the only thing on your mind is how amazing tzuyu sounds.

“you feel so good, tzu.” your sentence comes out hurried and broken, the feeling of tzuyu’s pussy on yours messing with your senses. “hm, thank you.” an inebriating smile adorns her lips as she responds. one of her hands remains placed on your hip, pushing you down against herself. you lean back, resting your weight on your hands as you brush your hair back.

“faster.” she hums while digging her nails into your skin. you whine at the feeling and speed up, making tzuyu reflexively thrust her hips up.

“shit, don’t stop.” her back arches as she pleads with you. “i wouldn’t do that to us both.” you giggle and bend down to meet her lips.

you can feel your muscles beginning to contract and hold onto tzuyu’s hand against the mattress.

“i’m so close.” you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut. “hm—me too.” hearing her weak whimper is all you need to reach your climax. you fiercely hold tzuyu’s hand as your hips shake, silencing your moans with her lips. you don’t stop until you see her body tense and she lets out a string of profanities with her orgasm.

when she completely finishes, you let yourself fall down on her chest, completely slumped. you both lay there panting without moving until your heart rates settle and you regain your composures.

“you’re incredible.” she traces your lips with her fingers and you look up at her. “i pay attention.” she laughs at you, pushing you off of her to get on top of you.

“it’s my turn to show you how well i pay attention.”

your eyes widen at her remark, you didn’t think she could sound any hotter, but somehow she does. she kisses down your neck, going past your chest and all the way to your stomach. she plants a kiss right above your core and your hips jerk forward.

she stands up and pats down the edge of the bed for you to sit. she then kneels in front of you, opening your legs with her hands. you can feel the slick pouring out of you, she looks absolutely ravishing on her knees for you.

she kisses your thighs as you stroke her hair with a smile on your face, completely drowning in how beautiful she looks.

she looks up at you and dips her tongue between your folds, already earning desperate moans from you. her tongue moves with great agility, sucking your clit and pushing into your entrance every time she passes it.

you give her feedback in the form of hushed whines and whimpers, still very aware of the people on the other side of the wall.

“does that feel good?" she asks in a sweet, innocent voice, the contrast between her actions and her inflection adding to your arousal.

you whine and arch your back slightly, pushing tzuyu’s face further into you. she chuckles as she lets go of your clit with an audible ‘pop.’

“y/n, answer my question.” she begs with the same tone and you look down at her, a dangerous glint painted on her eyes.

“hm,” your attempt at answering comes out as a moan and your cheeks redden as you feel tzuyu’s laugh against your pussy.

"i think,” you whimper into your own hand as she pushes her fingers inside you. “i think you can tell, ah fuck.” she mercilessly pumps her fingers in and out of you while her lips wrap around your clit.

it doesn’t take long for the edges of your vision to glow white, you orgasm hitting you without warning. you grab a fistful of tzuyu’s hair, holding her in place. she eagerly swallows every bit of sticky white fluid pooling out of you, allowing you to fully come back from your high.

you let go of her hair when you realize how hard you were holding onto it and she stands up. “i think i won.” she teases, coming closer to sit on your lap.

“oh, it was a competition? in that case, i think i’d like a rematch.”

[miru667]

The whole Once-ler family is working full tilt!

Here's my full piece for the VK Onceler Zine! I was very lucky to get to be a part of it...🥹 I used concept art as my inspiration this time: [link] Keep reading below for my process vid and all my director's commentary!

Thank you for being curious! Here's a video of my WIPs:

Deadlines were TIGHT for this zine! We were given only 2 months (compared to the 6 months I had on the previous onceler zine), so to make sure I could finish on time, I decided to do only base colours and lighting, with almost no shading anywhere. Still, trying to balance all the colours took the longest for me, as you can see in the vid. xP

Also idk if anyone noticed, but for the face I chose to use an already existing onceler doodle: [link] Why? Well, why not! I really liked that doodle and I didn't want it to go to waste. 😆

Things that I enjoyed sneaking in:

-the golden spiral! Vaguely, at least! At the very least I hope your eyes can follow the order of thneed production, from the fallen tree at the window to the tuft harvesting to the thread spinning, to knitting the thneed and then drawing up plans for bigger and better things, and then ending with him pulling on his iconic glove to show he's going to take control now

-15 cents, a nail, and a great great great grandfather snail, as well as a tin pail since that's where you're supposed to deposit your payment

-combining things from the 2012 movie and concept art, the 1972 movie, and the 1971 book (e.g. that funny wrench he uses to fix pipes)

-Miss O'Schmunce-ler! You can see from the vid that I added the bracelet pretty late, because it was a late decision to have a Miss O'Schumunce-ler somewhere. I chose her to be the one picking up the pencil in the end, since she's pretty good with a pencil in the movie hehe. You guys can pretend the arms holding the phone is Miss Funce-ler.

-a thneed, a seed, and a (grickle grass) weed on the floor. The thneed is just the first of many that will soon create a giant pile. The seed lies forgotten in the corner. The weed is foreshadowing the future.

-hinting that Lorax and Once-ler were actually good friends, like they were in the Lorax musical stageplay. 🥺 I kept this part of the script in my mind for this piece:

This was aftermath Once-ler talking to the Lorax, reminiscing on their good times...and also being stupid and inconsiderate because the Lorax was in fact there all along as his friend, trying to warn him of what was going to happen. 😔

So in my zine piece we're witnessing a peaceful time before all the real biggering really starts. I like to think that in this scene, the Lorax had been sitting on the Once-ler's lap, holding his gloves for him and having a nice chat together with maybe some harmless bickering, but then the Once-ler gets a phone call so he cuts their convo short and rolls his chair over to the window to answer it. Putting business over friendship as usual, of course. Inspo for the lap sitting comes from this fanart by Emi that I love: [link]

What else...the parts that I'm proud of the most are the stool (I spent 2 days just drawing this stool), the curtains, the fact that I was able to include every truffula colour, and the Once-ler's pose. I was close to giving up on that pose because I had no idea how to draw it but I'm glad that I tried again. I wanted to show him at ease during a stage in his life that we never got to see much: the happier and more innocent days of his biggering when he only had a small shop. 😊

That's all, I think! Thanks for reading if you did! Once again it was an honour to be part of this zine!!

[jae-bummer]

Un-Breaking Up

Request: i’m not sure if your request are still open honestly it’s my first time requesting ever. do you think you could do one of 10, and 13 with changbin, they were exes and something happened either one could say 10 and then they get stuck together, idk this was a big brain fart

Prompt:

10) “Was it worth it?”

13) Oh no! There's only one bed!

Pairing: Stray Kids Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst (with a happy ending)

Song rec as you read: Top or Cliff - KIM SEJEONG

.

"What do you mean there's only one room left?" you hissed into your cell phone.

"They overbooked for the weekend," Chan sighed on the other end of the line. "We reserved the rooms when you and Bin were still together."

"And I told you I would pay the extra to get my own room," you groaned. This could not be happening.

When you had agreed to go on this friend-cation, you had been blissfully wrapped in the throes of love.

Now, you were stranded at the airport with a headache and an ex-boyfriend hailing a cab.

"It would have been nice for you to tell me he was on the same flight by the way," you scoffed.

"You literally booked the flights together-"

"You said he was going to change them to come in earlier! With you!"

"I thought he was!" Chan gasped. "Look, if you can't suck it up and be an adult for five minutes-"

"It's a twenty-minute drive," you pouted.

"And rooms are already sorted, so you guys are just going to have to figure it out," he sighed. You could almost hear him, miles away, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Can't he like...stay on your pull-out couch?" you hedged. "I'm sure your partner won't-"

"Oh, they will very much mind," Chan chuckled. "Plus, Changbin paid his portion just like everyone else. He's not getting downgraded to my loveseat."

"He's small enough to fit damn near anywhere," you muttered.

"Y/N," Chan said slowly, careful to keep his annoyance reigned in. "We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Just say you hate me," you complained. You knew you were being dramatic, but you were in too deep to turn back now. It really wasn't your intention to be a brat, but you and Changbin hadn't seen each other in weeks. Your friends had inadvertently become children of divorce, so you knew Chan didn't deserve the grief you were giving him.

"If by hate you mean love," he said cheerfully. "Now get your butt here. I'll see you in the morning."

Rolling your eyes, you hung up the call and shoved your phone in your pocket. Turning on your heel, you marched over to where Changbin was shoving suitcases into the back of a taxi.

"Everything okay?" he huffed, pushing the very last of the luggage into the trunk. "What did Chan say?"

"That you've been invited to sleep on his pullout couch," you smiled brightly.

"Y/N."

"They couldn't get us separate rooms," you muttered, crossing your arms. "And we have to make do."

Changbin's eyebrows shot up. "I'll pay the difference."

"Tried that," you sighed. "They literally have no more room."

"They always have more room," Changbin grumbled, yanking his phone out of his pocket. "Even if it's an executive suite."

"By all means," you hummed, sliding into the back of the waiting car. "If you think you can do something literally no one else could, go ahead."

Choosing not to acknowledge your comment, Changbin joined you in the backseat. Careful to keep a sufficient space barrier between the two of you, he informed the driver of your destination before getting on the phone with what you assumed to be the hotel concierge.

No matter how charming he could be, the fifteen minutes he spent on the phone yielded no results. As he hung up, you could see how ruffled he was. Leaning his head against the window of the taxi, he slowly exhaled.

"Let me guess?" you remarked. "No matter how much money you threw at the problem, it didn't work?"

Taking a deep breath, he swiveled toward you. "I was just trying to help-"

"No one asked," you said sharply. "I tried to fix the problem and couldn't. So did Chan. I don't know why you thought you could come in and save the day-"

"You used to like it when I saved the day," he bristled.

You knew you weren't being fair and simply picking at him just for the sake of picking. "I used to like you in general, but here we are."

Changbin closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. Luckily, the hotel was already coming into sight. Unluckily, you would still be stuck together for the next few days.

.

"Shit," Changbin said, stepping into the hotel room.

Yanking your suitcase over the lip of the door, you made your way into the room, stopping just behind him. "What-"

The words were erased from your tongue as you took in your surroundings. The room was gorgeous, and admittedly, pretty romantic. You were greeted by a small seating area and a low table decorated with rose petals and snacks. Looking further into the room, you could see you had your own private pool outside, intimate and moody with low lighting. The thing you had avoided recognizing though was perhaps the most obvious.

There was only one bed.

"Perfect," you croaked, completely exhausted by this whole situation. "Absolutely perfect."

"I could try to-"

"My guess is," you said slowly. "That they are so fully booked, that they won't be able to move us to a room with two queens."

"But you don't know that for sure," he said with a small nod, trying to convince himself. "I'll go to the front desk."

"Knock yourself out," you sighed, leaning against the wall to begin sliding slowly down it. It was time to accept defeat. "Better yet actually knock yourself out."

Changbin shot you a dirty look as he yanked the door open and disappeared from sight.

Too bad he was back within ten minutes.

"Let me guess," you smirked. "They are fully booked and won't be able to move us to a room with two queens?"

"You don't have to gloat," he pouted, plopping on the edge of the bed. Looking helplessly around the room, his focus landed on the two armchairs in the seating area (very much not a normal, pull-out couch.) "I can just make a pallet on the floor."

You felt a small pang in your chest. As much as you didn't want to admit you had any threads of care left for the man in front of you, you did. And unfortunately, you didn't want to condemn him to sleeping on the floor. "That wouldn't be fair to you."

"It is what it is," he sighed. "And I'm not going to subject you to laying in a bed with me when you don't even want us to be in the same room."

"Stop being dramatic," you scoffed, totally projecting. "We can make a pillow barrier. Plus, I really don't want to hear you complain and make me into the bad guy."

"Y/N," he groaned. "It's not like that."

You chewed on your lip, knowing it wasn't. Changbin had honestly been much more charitable than you had even tried being since the two of you had broken up. You had pinned most of the reasons for separating on him, so maybe he had taken it to heart.

Choosing to ignore his protests, you began to unpack instead. Leaving the top two drawers in the dresser open for him (a habit from when you were dating) you silently moved your clothing and essentials to various parts of the room.

"Do you mind if I shower first?" he asked. His tone was careful, as if he was waiting for you to explode.

You hated it.

"Go for it," you answered.

He moved quietly toward the bathroom, leaving you with only your thoughts as you heard the click of the lock.

Moving toward the bed, you shoved your face into a pillow to let loose a mix between a groan and scream. Sometimes it just helped to make nonsensical sounds when you were feeling frustrated.

It was difficult being around Changbin again. Even though the two of you had broken up, there were feelings there. You had been so desperately in love with him at one point, you just assumed you would be a little bit in love forever. You thought the two of you had been bulletproof, but in one evening of anger, you managed to break both your heart and his (and still clung to the rationalization that it was all his fault).

You knew who he was when you had started dating. Seo Changbin, member of Stray Kids, producer in 3racha, gym rat, and lastly, boyfriend. All of those things came first, and you were so, so tired of being the last checkbox on the list. After being cancelled on for maybe the hundredth time because there was some sort of work emergency, you had had enough. His things were waiting in boxes when he had eventually shown up, and you had endless reasons for why you didn't want to continue forward.

When he begged, you had shut him down. Looking back now, you knew it was because you were afraid. It was easier to have a hard break than admit that you were both flawed people who weren't trying hard enough. It was easier than actually making the effort and being uncomfortable. You werent't ready for that advanced level of vulnerability.

Changbin was one of the softest and squishiest individuals you had ever met, which made it even harder. Any form of neglect he had stumbled into subjecting you to had never came with a hard edge. When he apologized, he was genuinely sorry. He was too good and pure to have to deal with you being upset over something he loved. He dreamt of being an idol before he even knew you existed. It would be the best for both of you if you just stopped interfering in his success.

Maybe the thing that hurt you the most though was seeing how it seemingly didn't affect him. He continued forward like nothing had happened, even treating you as a friend whenever you happened to run in the same circles. That was when you decided you couldn't like him, even if you loved him. It was easier to be annoyed than show how hurt it made you.

It was sick to say that you had wanted him to be just as miserable and lost as you were.

As you heard the water cut off, you pushed your face away from the pillow and took a deep breath. It was just a quick trip. You could be cordial for the sake of your friends.

You heard him before you saw him. With the phone glued to his ear, he was chuckling at someone on the other line. It was difficult not to ogle at the water droplets still decorating his shoulders and collar bone, even though he was technically fully dressed in a tank top and shorts.

"We need to redo the guide," he instructed. "I might be able to break away for a little bit and record something.

Yes, I know I'm on vacation, but we're already behind."

After a few more minutes of arguing, he hung up, and tossed his phone onto the bed.

You couldn't help yourself. "Was it worth it?"

"Hm?" he asked. You knew he had to pull himself out of his own thoughts before he could address yours.

"Was it worth it?" you repeated, crossing your arms.

"The shower?" he asked, lifting his brows and smiling his patented one-sided smirk. "Absolutely."

"No," you croaked. "Working. On vacations, in what's supposed to be your free time. Was it all worth it?"

He plopped on the edge of the bed, keeping his back to you. "We're talking past - past tense here...aren't we? Not the call I was just on."

Your silence was answer enough.

"I like to think it was," he said quietly, tilting his head to the side as he made a hissing noise to reprimand himself. "But as days go by, the more and more I wonder if I was wrong."

You chewed on your lip, not at all knowing what answer you had expected, but that wasn't it.

Looking over his shoulder, he slowly pivoted his body to face yours. His expression softened as he said quietly, "Is that why you hate me?"

Your jaw dropped open as you floundered for one of your knee-jerk, cutting responses. His face conveyed such helplessness.

"...I don't hate you, Changbin," you said quietly. Surely, he had to know that.

"I don't think I would blame you if you did," he chuckled sadly. "I put just about everything before you, didn't I?"

"It wasn't a matter of putting things before me," you said slowly. "It was a matter of putting things before us. We were supposed to be a team."

The old adage that time heals all wounds was at least proving itself to be slightly true. It was definitely easier to speak on how you were feeling now that you had put some space between yourself and the initial confrontation.

Changbin nodded slowly. "I wanted to be better."

You tried to take the ice out of your tone. "I did too."

"Then why didn't we try?" he asked, looking toward you with watery eyes.

You tried to focus on your breathing. If Changbin cried, you were absolutely going to cry.

"I thought...I thought that I had done so badly as a boyfriend," he continued. "And that's why you treated me like I was an inconvenience once we broke up."

"You were an inconvenience," you grumbled. "Only because I was still so upset...and you were acting like everything was okay between us."

"I don't know how to act otherwise!" he contended. "We broke up and I still loved you. Treating you any other way would have hurt my heart, and I'm too selfish to do that on top of what was already done."

"Huh," you hiccupped, feeling the tears come despite your best efforts. "I really goofed, didn't I?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"I was the one who did the breaking up, Bin," you said quietly. "I tried to tell myself I shouldn't feel bad because it was your fault. You were the one who was always gone, but I didn't try to talk to you about it. I let it become this completely...other thing inside of me. It was like every time you cancelled, I added it to this stack until it finally tumbled over."

"But I should have realized on my own," he asserted, standing up to move closer to you. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he gathered your hands in his. Looking up through his lashes, you could see the toll the last few months had taken on him.

You were foolish to think he wasn't suffering in the same way you were.

"We can blame ourselves all day," you sniffed, finally letting the tears run over your cheeks. "But it doesn't change the fact that we broke up...and now we're here."

"So we un-break up," he mused, saying it as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Un-break up?" you muttered.

"Mhm," he hummed, easing up from his knees to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he tucked you into his side.

"It's not that easy," you hiccupped, shaking your head but making no attempt to untangle your body from his.

"Who says it can't be?"

"We're different people now, Bin," you maintained. "Do we even know if we can be that safe space for each other? It ended so poorly last time, and-"

"Because we let it!" he argued. "But we know now-"

"Do we?" you interrupted. "We don't actually know how to fix what happened. We walked away."

"And here we are, walking back," he chuckled, shaking his head. "We can try, really try...if you think it's worth it."

You chewed on your lip, looking toward him. His eyes were still a little puffy from his brief crying episode, but it was definitely the same Bin you had fallen in love with months ago. His dark hair was beginning to dry in its signature messy curls, and his even darker eyes watched you carefully. There was a fire there that had been extinguished for so long, seeing it again caused your heart to skip a beat. Now that you had opened the door, he would push as hard as possible to make his way back in.

"Y/N?"

"I may not be worth it," you laughed grimly. "But I know you are."

"I didn't know we were throwing a pity party," he teased. "I should have bought streamers."

"I take it back," you grumbled. "You aren't worth it."

Changbin's grin was wide as he wrapped his other arm around you and squeezed you tightly. "Of course, you're worth it, silly."

"So we're doing this," you whispered into his bare shoulder. The smell of his shower gel was still heavy on his skin, encouraging you to inhale deeply. For the first time in weeks, you felt at home.

"Hell yeah we are," he chimed. "We're going to do the shit out of this."

You laughed as you pulled away from him. You wanted to look into his eyes. He needed to understand.

"Starting now, we both promise to do better," you nodded slowly. He nodded along, eyes wide. "Which means, do you really have to work while you're here?"

He smirked, letting out a small chuckle. "Starting now, I am going to be so present in this relationship, you're going to get sick of me. You'll be begging for me to go to the studio."

"Somehow I doubt that," you sighed, lifting a hand to cradle his jaw. He tilted his face, nuzzling your palm before dropping a soft kiss there. "But I'm excited to see you try."

[dontxevenxask]

Bad hair day

Context: So you (Satorus wife and basically the mom of Megumi and Tsumiki) were enjoying a nice day, but Megumi came to you almost crying from a Gojos mess up with his hair.

Pairing: fem!reader x Gojo Satoru

TW: idk like hair cutting, a bit of yelling and that's abou it?? Yeah

Word count: abt 900 or so (it's short ik😭😭)

Authors note: haven't written in a loooong time, I have had a few projects but never had thr energy to finish em. I made this at like midnight so that's why it isn't the best. Oh and first language isn't english so can be some typos there!

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You were relaxing in the kitchen, drinking some tea with a few biscuits while reading the new book you've just gotten from the library today.

It was rare to even have such a calm day with nothing special to do. You could just Be by yourself and enjoy the day.

As you thought that would be the case for the rest of the day, but you were about to Be proven very wrong by the universe once again.

You heard quick and pretty silent thumps coming down stairs with the person just yelling. It was Megumi who was on the verge of tears as he came up to you with you getting up from the chair quickly as he wrapped his tiny arms around your legs as he covered his face with them starting to cry now.

"Wha-? Megumi are you okay? What happened??" You asked worried as you got down on your knees so you could see his face.

"My..hair!" He said sniffling inbetween his words.

You took a look at his hair and, oh, my, god.. his hair was cut very badly and pretty short too. He had a pair of bangs too! Now who in the hell did that to him??

You were staring at his hair standing up just about to ask him who did that. But then you saw a tall figure leaning against the kitchens door frame with a look of both dissapointment and guilt.

"I told him to stay still.." He tried defending himself but it was no use really.

"God.." you let out in a sigh while rubbing your temples trying to calm down a bit. "Are you serious?? He just had his hair cut a few days ago!"

"Well he said he didn't really like the length of it?! And I decided to fix it up since you were finally relaxing for sometime" Gojo said now looking into your eyes but then looking away again.

Megumi was still crying from his awful haircut as you were arguing with Gojo for a bit as well about the situation, everything was so loud and it made you just more irritated.

"Okay okay! Megumi, honey? How about I fix your hair, yeah?" You leaned down to look at him.

He then started to calm down but still had some tears on his cheecks and a runny nose as he nodded as an answear. So you picked him up with his arms around your neck gently and his legs around your back.

Gojo stared at you both as you walked past him with Megumi in your arms. Though you didn't notice the death stare that Megumi gave to Gojo before you walked upstairs to go to the bathroom to fix it all up.

"Okay, now sit here and I'll try my best to fix it" for sure yours couldn't be as bad as this monstosity on his head

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

After about an hour of hard work with scissors snapping and hair falling down, you got his hair to look actually pretty good!

"So, how's that?" You asked fixing it up a bit with your fingers.

"..Amazing!" Megumi said cracking a smile as he turned around to hug you as you put your hand on top oh his head stroking his soft hair.

You then opened the door with Satoru and Tsumiki both outside waiting to see the results. Tsumiki was also a bit amazed and went to look at it closer as Gojo just looked at you smiling.

You saw him smiling at you and you smiled as well "Hey why won't you two go watch some TV?" You said to the kids as they then left down stairs to go and do just what you said.

"So.. I'm sorry for cutting his hair without asking you first.." he admitted looking down at the floor.

"Thanks but you probably should apologise to Megumi instead of me?" You said smiling a bit raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, mhm, sure"

"Gojo??"

"Okay I will!" He finally said.

"Good, and please never! Cut anyones hair again, expecially yours! I don't want to date a bald man okay?" You said smiling as you left a quick and soft kiss on his lips before going down to hear his apology to Megumi.

[agaypanic]

Headcannons on being the Davenports bestfriend 💗

Being Best Friends With the Davenports Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: this is probably asking for being best friends with all of them at the same time, but i’m gonna do individual headcanons. also even tho it says davenport, im also adding leo (i know he’s technically a davenport but idk i dont see him as a davenport i see him as a dooley)

***

Adam

You always enable and encourage his silly ideas

Which his family doesn’t like much

But you and Adam have fun, so you don’t care much

You help him with his homework a bunch

He doesn’t like asking Chase for help bc he makes him feel really dumb

Your favorite activity is probably going to the zoo bc he loves all the animals

You peeked through the front door of the Davenport’s house. When the coast was clear, you opened the door wider and waved for Adam to come in. How he was gonna hide this when his family saw, you didn’t know.

“What is that?” Leo’s sudden voice made the two of you jump. He had come from down the hall, and was staring at you with an incredulous look and pointed finger. 

“Lunch,” Adam answered, pointing at the bag of food in your hand. Leo rolled his eyes, furiously trying to make where he was pointing more obvious.

“No, that!” 

You and Adam looked at the alpaca that Leo was pointing to, knowing you were unable to avoid it any longer.

“Oh my gosh, how did that get there?” You asked dumbly, as if you didn’t help Adam break it out of the zoo and bring it home.

“This is definitely the first time I’ve seen this,” Adam said in a faux shocked tone, petting the alpaca’s head. “But since it’s here, we can keep it, right?”

Bree

You guys become extremely close extremely fast

Being surrounded by guys all her life, you’re very refreshing to be around

The two of you love to gossip

About who’s with whom, her siblings’ antics, everything and nothing

You guys like going to the mall to shop, eat, and catch up

Even though you hang out literally every day

“Oh my gosh, did I tell you what happened with my brothers this week?” Bree asked as she looked through a rack of shirts.

“You probably have, but tell me anyway.” You laugh, looking at the clothes with her.

“So Leo likes this girl, right? And Chase comes up with some plan to get her to fall for him- oh, this is cute. Well, anyways, it completely backfires, and she ends up going after Adam.”

“No.” You gasped.

“Yes! And that’s not even the craziest part.” Bree took something off the rack and held it up to you, wanting your opinion. You nodded furiously at the sight, and she grinned, adding it to the try-on pile of clothes she was carrying. “So Chase tells Leo that he’ll talk to the girl for him, and guess what.”

“What? Does she start liking Chase?” You ask jokingly. Bree raised her eyebrows at you and pursed her lips, signaling you were correct. “No!”

“Yes!”

Chase

Yall are that duo at school

Smart, sassy, and pretty

You guys sign up for extracurriculars like science fair and debate club together

Even though he’s literally the smartest man in the world, he likes having you go over his work

Very occasionally, he’ll miss a detail, and you’ll point it out

But he mainly just likes the validation

But you also never hesitate to put him in his place when needed

“Hey, can you read this over for me?” Chase asked as he handed you his laptop. You decided to come over to watch a movie when he suddenly remembered he needed to revise one of his papers for a class. 

Pausing the TV, you set the computer on your lap and read the essay. You didn’t comment until you were finished, handing the laptop back to Chase.

“Pretty good.” You said, playing the movie again.

“I knew it.” Chase gloated, reclining on the couch next to you. “Perks of being the smartest guy ever.”

“Yeah, well, you also misspelled ‘and,’ genius.” You laughed as you watched him scramble for his computer, looking through every word to find the mistake. “Perks of not knowing how to type, I guess.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, fixing the error and crossing his arms with a pout.

Leo

The blind leading the blind

You encourage all of his delusions, mainly because you think it’s funny

You two are a comedic duo tbh

You guys bounce off each other really well

Before the bionic trio, you always defended Leo from bullies

You still do sometimes

Leo was currently talking your ear off about his current crush, some girl named Danielle. This was part of your guys’ routine. He’d tell you about someone he liked, you’d tell him that the two of them were meant to be, something would go wrong, you’d laugh about it, and then Leo would find someone new the next week.

“We’re so close to being boyfriend and girlfriend; I can feel it!” He said excitedly.

“Oh yeah.” You nodded, trying to suppress a laugh. “I know that if I had a boyfriend, I’d want him to be my human footstool because it’s what I deserve.”

“Exactly! You’re like the only one who gets it.”

“Ooh, there she is now.” You said, looking over his shoulder to see his girl of the week at her locker. “She came into the same hallway you’re in, so she clearly wants to see you. You should go talk to her.”

“Really?” Leo asked, slowly standing up. You nodded and pushed him in Danielle’s direction, waiting for everything to unfold. 

Leo somehow found the courage to talk to Danielle, but it was a pretty short conversation. When she walked away, she looked at him from over her shoulder and said goodbye.

“See you later, Lenny!”

The name made you bust out laughing, almost weak in the knees to stand up and go over to the now somewhat sad boy.

“Better luck next time, Lenny.” You said, patting his shoulder and laughing some more.

[itsbeeble]

If I (Lovin Me pt 3)

Summary: Jeonghan has made so many mistakes. He’s let so many things slip away, so many things that he’s cherished. He won’t let that happen again. He won’t let you slip away from him anymore.

Genre: Angst, fluff, College!au

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x fem!reader (featuring Joshua, S.Coups, Hoshi, Mingyu, and DK)

WC: ~6.7k

Read other parts: pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not a ton though), mild flirting, Jeonghan is sad, reader is sad, everyone is sad, swearing, name calling (not the fun kind), a few mental breakdowns, the reader knows she was being manipulated and was somewhat okay with it (idk just read it), Joshua is flirty but like in a best friend kinda way, everyone knows Jeonghan and Y/N are simps, Jeonghan MEGA SIMP

Listen to If I by Seventeen for full effect

A/N: In honor of me reaching 300 followers, here is part 3 of Lovin me! I appreciate all of you for reading this and I hope you continue to enjoy my works <3

~

Our path, our promise to be together

Is already thwarted and you walk away, turning your back on me

It reduces to a single dot

It's too empty outside of that interest

I hope that that dot

Comes back before me and turns into you

“Have I ever told you how stupid you are?” 

Jeonghan is sitting on the couch, head down and his hands tangled in the strands of his hair. Across from him stands Joshua, Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and Seokmin. He barely makes the effort to listen to his friends as they yell at him. He wants to say that he doesn’t know where those words came from. He wants to say he didn’t mean to say any of that, that he was just mad and didn’t know what else to do. 

But that’s a lie. 

He knew exactly what he was saying. Though the reason he said it is something that can’t be found, he’d wanted to tell you that since the night of the party. 

“Are you even listening to us?” Soonyoung’s gaze is hard. There’s nothing but anger in his eyes, and Jeonghan feels the guilt beginning to seep into his bones again. “What the fuck were you even thinking?”

“Soonyoung,” Joshua, ever the voice of reason, cuts in. “Leave him be.”

“Shua—” A glare from the older man and Soonyoung shuts his mouth, leaving the room shortly after. 

“Seok, make sure Soonyoung stays out.” The other man doesn’t really say anything, just shoots Jeonghan a murderous look before stalking out of the room. 

There’s a certain tension building between the three remaining men. Jeonghan keeps his head down, avoiding the judging glare the Seungcheol obviously has glued on and the disgust that Joshua tries to force down and replace with pity. The two, having known Y/N a little more than everyone else, were rightfully angered. 

“Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?” 

Jeonghan finally lifts his head, his cheeks red from anger and embarrassment. He wants to scream and yell and throw things and hit the men in front of him. He wants to run out the door, find you, and fix things. He wants to do so much, but all he can do is bite back a sob. 

He’d never been a particularly emotional man. He’d never been one for crying, thinking that there was no point in being upset over something from the past. His family had always been stoic people, keeping their emotions to themselves and never letting the public see them come apart. Jeonghan had grown up the same way. Jeonghan had thought that he’d stay that way.

Then he met you.

Emotional. Broken. Crying over dogs that die in movies. He’d been disgusted by how open you were with your thoughts. Disgusted that you showed your struggles to the world and didn’t care if you embarrassed yourself.

~

The first time Jeonghan officially met you was in the spring of your sophomore year. He was a semester ahead of you and had convinced himself that he was far superior to every other student at this university. He’d seen you in passing, in some classes the semesters prior, and had bumped into you in the halls once or twice. Never had you spoken. Never had either of you thought the other was important. 

He approached you for the first time while you were studying for your Organic Chem final. You’d been crying quietly at the time, muffling your sobs with the sleeve of your sweater. It worked, mostly. But apparently, Jeonghan, from across the library, believed that you were far too loud and far too pathetic for his liking. 

“You’re weak.” He stares down at you, standing at the head of your table in the library while you try to stop your tears. You look up at him, tears not slowing and a confused pout on your face. His lip curls, anger washing over him in tidal waves. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re weak,” he repeats. “Pathetic, really, that you’re crying over something so trivial.”

“Why do you care what I’m crying about?” You ask.

“Oh, I couldn’t give less of a shit about you,” he smiles, but it’s condescending. He doesn’t care what you feel after this, he just wants his opinion of you known so you can stay out of his way. “I care that you’re annoying as shit and bothering me while I try to get stuff done without listening to your pathetic blubbering.” 

You’re shocked, he can tell, but that just means that his words will sink in and hopefully you can shut up. 

Unfortunately, he underestimated you. And, unfortunately, he failed to see the iced coffee beside your textbooks until it was soaking into his hair and the crisp white button-down he’d made the fatal mistake of wearing that day. 

“Who…” he seethes, “the fuck do you think you are?” 

“Who do you think you are?” You snap back. “I didn’t fucking do anything to you, so why do you think you have the right to come over here and insult me? You don’t even know me you egotistical rich prick.” He would never have admitted it to you, but he’d admired how you stood up to him. How you didn’t bend to his will just because of who he was, what his reputation was. He’d admired that you didn’t even recognize him, although, at the same time, it bothered him to no end. Jeonghan wanted you to know him. He wanted to break that strong will of yours, no matter what it took. 

Especially now that you’d dumped coffee over his head and forever stained his favorite shirt.

~

It was months later— September of your junior year, to be exact— that he allowed himself to let his guard down for the first time. At least, for the first time in front of you, of all people. Jeonghan, frankly, couldn’t help the disgust overwhelming every other emotion when you’d approached him outside his frat’s party. He’d tucked himself away, out of the view of all partygoers, hidden by the branches of an old oak tree. His heart beat rapidly, slamming against his ribs time and time again until he thought the bones were going to break. 

A crunch in the leaves behind him and he flinches, tearing his head out of his hands to wipe the tears from his eyes. 

He catches sight of you, and you him. 

You’re wearing a skirt much too short and a shirt far too tight to be considered comfortable. You walked in heels far too tall for your feet to stay stable in, and he watches you wobble over to him. He can’t find it in him to scoff or laugh or mock you. He lets you sit beside him, playing with your thumbs and not saying anything. 

You listen to him cry, but you don’t make fun of him as his family would. You don’t comfort him. He’s grateful to you. He’d never admit it, but he was grateful that you just sat there quietly. 

He lets his head slip down and rest on your shoulder, and he feels you tense up. Jeonghan half expects you to shove him off, with how he’d treated you. 

You don’t. 

The next day, you went back to normal. He knew it hurt you when he started openly berating you again, mocking the way you dress and the way you talk. He saw the tears pricking in your eyes and scoffs. How dare you think that things would be different. How naive could one possibly be?

After your class together, though, he’d made excuses to his friends so he could catch up to you. They didn’t question him. They never did. 

“Hey,” he called out to you. The halls were near empty. Most people were either studying or in class, so nobody would see him approaching you. 

You turn to him, your eyes narrowed. 

“Yes?” Your answer is simple, your voice quiet but clearly annoyed. He frowns. 

“I just— I hope you know that last night changed nothing about how I feel about you.” You raise an eyebrow, and he goes to speak again, but you interrupt him. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” He runs his tongue over his lip and shrugs. 

“Because you’re easy.”

~

“I told her she was easy.” Jeonghan looks between Joshua and Seungcheol with this…distraught look on his face. “I told her that she was an easy target. Like she was someone that was meant to be used.” Joshua mumbles some curses under his breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping away momentarily. 

“When did you say that?” Seungcheol asks quietly. Jeonghan can practically feel the rage building inside the older man, can feel it bubbling up inside him and waiting to boil over. 

“During…while I was talking to her. I told her just a little bit ago and— and I told her that a few months ago. Back when we first started this whole thing.” More tears are beginning to well up. He can feel them starting to roll down his cheeks but his body is shaking so badly he can’t move. “She knew from the start that I hadn’t given a shit about her. Why did she— why would she agree to that arrangement if she’d known I was just using her?”

“Because she cared about you, Jeonghan.” Joshua snaps. “Because even though she knew you hated her, she also knew that you felt you had no one who could help save you from yourself. She saw that you were just killing yourself slowly, from the inside out, and she wanted to help you no matter what it cost her.”

~

“Y/N?” A tap on your shoulder and you flinch, jolted out of the trance your econ textbook had you in. Joshua stands to your right, two coffees in hand and his backpack over one shoulder. You smile at him and he sets the drinks down, away from any of your papers. “I figured you’d need something to keep you going.” A pretty smile, one that would have anyone’s heart fluttering. 

Yours wasn’t excluded from that.

“I appreciate that, Joshua.” His bag drops to the floor, and he watches you for a few moments. He watches you spin the cup he’d set closer to you, tracing your nail across the lid while you highlight any information that stood out to you within the pages. There’s no discomfort between you two. There’s no elephant in the room. You know why he’s there, but you also know he’s not there for Jeonghan. He’s there for you. 

“Are you…Are you doing okay?” Your eyes flick up to his again and you shrug.

“Good as I can be. You heard what he said. I know you did.” He nods slowly. 

“Yeah…” You smile sadly.

“I should’ve known it, really.” Joshua’s head jerks back slightly, his eyes narrowing at you to try and figure out what you mean. “That he didn’t really care about me.” 

“That’s not true, Y/N.” Joshua shakes his head and you shrug again.

“Sure it is. I mean…I don’t doubt that I was a form of comfort for him and that he grew attached, but at the end of the day I didn’t do much more than that. I was different. I was something that he wasn’t used to, and he liked that. Maybe that thought somehow convinced him he was in love with me but that’s…I don’t believe he did. Because if he loved me, why was he saying those things to my face? Why was he…why was he so cruel?” 

Your eyes are beginning to sting with the presence of tears, and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe them away. Joshua watches you sadly and curiously. You want to laugh. Only a year ago, you’d been in a similar position with Jeonghan. Him crying under that stupid oak tree with you watching him and not saying anything. 

“I don’t know, Y/N…I truly…” Joshua inhales and sinks back into his chair. “I wish I could give you some kind of explanation for the things he did. He’s…he’s always been a bit rough around the edges. He’s only started opening up to us because of you. Because you taught him that it’s okay to feel things like that.”

“I didn’t teach him shit.”

“That’s not true, baby.” He shuts his mouth when the name slips out, and he waits for you to correct him. When you don’t, he continues. “You taught him what it felt like to love someone, whether it was romantic or a form of obsession. You taught him that it was okay to cry. That it was okay to want things, to need things.”

“I’m not going to forgive him, Joshua.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” He leans forward. “I’m asking you to see from his perspective why he said those things. I know that it’s no excuse. I know he should’ve just ignored you from the start if he knew he was gonna speak so horribly to you. But he didn’t, and that led to both of you getting hurt. I want you to just…Just try to understand a bit more about him, okay?”

You dig the nail of your thumb into the side of your index finger, ignoring the sting it sends through your nerves. 

“I just wanted to help him.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

“Why did he…Why did I let this happen?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. He just…he isn’t the easiest person in the world to get along with.” You try to laugh but it comes out in a quiet sob. You raise your hand to your mouth, biting into your skin to keep yourself quiet, and Joshua moves to the chair next to you. You let him pull you into his arms, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and the other running up and down your back. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is why Jeonghan is so cruel. He never had anyone to truly comfort him. He never had someone to smother his doubts and worries, to give him a hug when he was struggling. You can’t help but wonder what he’d be like if he’d received that love. Would he have been kinder? Would he have loved you the way he repeatedly claimed to?

You don’t know. And, now, you don’t really want to.

~

“What did she say?” Jeonghan is pacing the span of his bedroom, biting the nail of his thumb until there’s practically nothing left to bite. Joshua sits in the middle of the older man’s bed, legs crossed and body leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Was she mad? Did she ask to see me? Did she yell?” A hundred questions are running through Jeonghan’s mind, and Joshua attempts to keep up with the ones that manage to slip out of his lips. 

“She wasn’t…mad, per se?” He’s questioning himself before he even begins. “She was more, like, sad. I think. She was sad and confused. Just like you! Man, you guys are perfect for each other!” He attempts a joke, but Jeonghan just scowls. 

“You’re not funny, Hong Jisoo.”

“I know.”

“What else did she say?”

“She…She was really set on the fact that you chose her, of all people, to use. But she also knew from the start why. She wanted to help you, at first. To help you break out of the shell you’d created around yourself. And then she let it go too far and, well, here we are.”

“So she doesn’t forgive me?” Jeonghan leans against his dresser and tips his head back with a sigh. Joshua watches him carefully, gnawing on his lip in thought. 

“Not yet, at least. I think you just… I think you need to put in the effort to fix things. I don’t think apologies are really gonna do anything anymore. Especially not with what happened last time you tried to fix things.” 

“You’re still not funny.” Jeonghan hisses. Joshua scoffs and sits up straight. 

“I wasn’t kidding. Han, you’re on a losing streak in terms of apologies. Every time you even try, you make things worse for yourself and for her. I want to help you, but if you keep fucking up then I can’t! I won’t sacrifice my friendship with her because you decided to be a fucking moron!”

Joshua’s voice echoes around the small bedroom, and Joshua throws his body back onto the mattress. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten himself involved in the situation. Knows he should’ve stayed away from you in the first place, no matter how drawn to you he was. But Jeonghan is his best friend. How can he leave his best friend to suffer like this while he prances around, flaunting the fact that he’s able to stay in Y/N’s life and Jeonghan isn’t?

That’s cruel. And no matter what Joshua thinks of his best friend at this moment, he won’t lower himself down to Jeonghan’s level. Not now, not ever. 

“So what’s the plan?” Jeonghan is laying by Joshua’s head, his legs dangling off the edge of the mattress.

“Plan?” Joshua echoes, his head turning to look at the older man as best he can. 

“You know, the plan to help me fix things?” Jeonghan frowns. “You do…have a plan…right?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Yeah, I have a plan.”

~

You walk into your lecture hall the next day, and there’s a muffin and coffee in front of your seat. Just plain black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. Nothing special, except for the bright blue sticky note attached to the paper cup. Your first thought is that someone put it by the wrong spot, that it was for someone else that sits near you. 

You lift the note a little, trying to find any clues as to who this could be for. A name for the recipient, a name from the sender. Anything. Fortunately, you find both. Scrawled in messy handwriting is a note for you. 

It’s hard to ESPRESSO my feelings for you, sweetheart,

But MUFFIN compares to you <3

Enjoy the coffee and the muffin, 

I know you have a lot of classes today

I love you.

~ JH

Your second thought of the day is to tear up the note and throw away everything he left on your desk. Anger and confusion are beginning to boil inside you, but you know you can’t let it show. Not when he walks in just moments later with Joshua and Seungcheol in tow. There’s no girl hanging off his arm this time. In fact, for the first time since he’s met you, he gives a smile and a small wave. You don’t return the actions, just sink into your seat and lower your head so you can’t possibly lock eyes with him so you won’t have to interact with him.

Unfortunately, he sits down right next to you. He doesn’t say anything to you. He just sits down and, shockingly, takes out his laptop and a notebook. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye but look toward the front of the room just moments later. He’s comfortable. You can tell just by the way he smiles and lets himself lean back in his chair. He’s usually sitting up straight, eyes straight forward and lips drawn into a line. 

People are staring at the two of you. People are whispering, just quiet enough that you can’t hear what they’re saying about you. You imagine that they’re shocked, confused, and a bit upset that he chose you instead of them. If only they knew the extent of your relationship.

You wish that you could push him out of his chair, tell him to fuck off, and leave you again like you’d told him to only a few days prior.

But you can’t. Embarrassing the so-called king of the school would set you aside as a social outcast and you would likely be relentlessly harassed for the rest of your time here. 

Instead, you choose to push the coffee and muffin aside and focus on the lecture up front. You ignore Jeonghan, and how he examines your side profile. You ignore how your stomach growls and the smell of the muffin is growing stronger. You won’t cave. Not to him. Not anymore.

~

The next day, you walk into your first class and there’s another muffin. Joshua sits in the chair beside yours, and he looks up with a smile when you approach. 

“Someone left you something,” his tone is teasing while he pushes the wrapped treat toward you. You scoff and push it back toward him. 

“I don’t want it. You have it.”

“He doesn’t want me to have it,” Joshua argues and shows you the little sticky note on the coffee. “Look! Words cannot ESPRESSO how much you BEAN to me, sweetheart! Isn’t that so cute?” 

“I hate you. And I hate him too.” You drop your bag and slump forward. Joshua pushes both items in front of you one last time and rubs your back comfortingly. “I don’t understand him, Shua.”

“Eh, does anyone?” A sigh from you, but no response. You’re too tired to deal with this. Too tired to care that Joshua would absolutely be telling Jeonghan about his success. You take a sip of the coffee and your eyebrow arches. You’d never told Jeonghan your coffee order. 

“How the fuck did he figure out what my favorite coffee order was?” You shoot an accusing glance at Joshua who just rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t tell him anything. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he paid as much attention to you as you did him?” 

“No.” You say flatly. “He didn’t pay attention to me. He hated me, remember?” Joshua grimaces and you turn to the front of the room. 

~

The week continues like that. Jeonghan would leave a coffee, a stupid note, and a muffin at your seat during your first class. If he shared that class with you, he sat right next to you. He tried to make conversation once, his voice and hands shaking while he did so. He was so nervous to just say hi, and you were cold in the way you shot him down. He didn’t waver, however. He kept that quiet, relaxed confidence up. You were almost impressed by how persistent he was. 

Almost.

Friday night rolled around, and you were already on your way to the Sigma Tau frat to meet up with Joshua. You knew there would be a lot of people there, knew that too many students would be getting drunk off their asses before finals started on Monday. You weren’t going to exclude yourself. You knew you had friends to keep an eye on you, but you also knew how to pace yourself so you could have a good time but not put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.

Still, though. You were nervous. Nervous that Jeonghan would corner you again and try to talk to you. You were nervous that you, in your soon-to-be inebriated state, would find it in you to forgive him for everything. 

“Just stick with me,” Joshua reassured you. “I won’t let him bother you too much.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t let him bother me at all,” you mutter and pull your skirt down slightly. It was still early May, so the lingering low temperatures of winter bit at your skin and raised goosebumps in its path. 

“You know that I won’t be able to stop him from approaching you. He always finds a way, baby.” Joshua squeezes your waist while he guides you through the crowd. Already you can spot Jeonghan laughing with the other guys in the frat, drinking some ungodly concoction Vernon had thrown into his cup. Seungcheol spotted you first and subtly shifted his body to hide you from his friend’s view. “I can, however, keep him from finding you for a little bit.”

“You’re an angel, Shua.” You smile at him, and he throws a wink at you. “So what has our friend Vernon mixed up tonight?” You lean over the counter and Joshua stands across from you. People bump into you while they stumble by, some people already plastered and others trying to help their plastered friends. 

“Something with a lot of tequila,” he points at one of the three large containers, “something with a lot of rum,” he points at the middle container, “and something with a little bit of every alcoholic drink we have. Just for fun.” He points at the final container

“Ooh, sounds…” you make a face and Joshua laughs.

“I know. But, you know Vernon, he likes experimenting.”

“I’ll bet.” You drum your fingers on the counter and point at the first container. “I’ll start with some of that…mixture?”

“Coming right up, babe.” Joshua grabs a cup for you and starts to get your drink. Both of you make a face at the odd red liquid that pours out, but your friend is quick to sniff it and take a small sip. “Good news, it isn’t poison!” 

You take the cup from his hand and take a sip as well. A grimace passes over your face almost immediately. 

“Bad news,” you clear your throat, “I’m gonna be absolutely off the walls from whatever he put in this.”

“Wasn’t that your goal?” Joshua comes up beside you again, that pretty smile of his making you blush a little bit. Under the purple lights, however, it’s nearly impossible to see the redness in your cheeks. 

“You ask a lot of questions, Shua.” 

“And yet you still give me the answers I want.” You shove his arm, but he hardly budges from his spot. He just smiles and laughs at your annoyed pout, and guides you back to where the crowd is growing thicker. Jeonghan sees you now, you know he does. His eyes are practically locked on you, his mouth practically hanging open. You see Seungcheol mouthing an apology from across the room, and you nod to acknowledge it. 

You figured he’d find you at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. You thought you would at least be tipsy. You hoped you would have been drunk. 

But no.

You’re stone-cold sober, and he’s staring at you with this longing look in his eyes. You look away first, and Joshua frowns. 

“He found you?”

“Yeah.”

“Surprised he didn’t immediately come over here and start kissing your feet and begging you for forgiveness.” You both watch a girl approach Jeonghan, and Joshua gasps loudly when he pushes the girl away. You can tell Jeonghan said something harsh to her, just based on the way she quickly runs back in the direction she came from to hide in her group of friends. 

“Jesus, that was cold,” you remark. Joshua hums. 

“I told you, he isn’t interested in anyone else but you.”

“Not this again, Shua.” You groan and let your head fall back. 

“I’m just saying—”

“Just stop! It isn’t…I won’t do this again!” Joshua stands his ground this time, staring down at you with stern eyes and crossed arms.

“I’m not saying that you need to forgive him immediately and start fucking him again.” You scowl.

“Then what do you want me to do, Shua?”

“I want you to just…start over? I guess? Just start over with him. Reintroduce yourselves, and forget your whole history together. Start as friends, or fucking date, or whatever works for you. Just…just don’t do this shit where you guys— and not just you, because this wasn’t your fault. I don’t want you to think I’m blaming you because I’m not— just don’t force us all to choose between you and him, because that would end up hurting more people than necessary. I don’t care if you talk and decide to be anything to each other, just don’t let this go any farther.”

~

The lights have become blinding, the music deafening. A headache is beginning to form, creating an ache behind your eyes. You lost sight of Joshua hours ago, although you don’t doubt he’s with the other boys in the frat. Odds are, he’s gotten himself drunk and forgotten all about his promise to not leave you alone. You don’t mind though, you’ve grown comfortable in your little corner of the room, out of sight and away from the eyes of the other partygoers. Your plans of getting drunk are long forgotten, now thinking too hard about what Joshua told you.

“Have you seen Jeonghan?” Mingyu stands in front of you, a drink in his hand and his teeth gnawing on his lip. 

“No, not since earlier. Why?” You look up at Mingyu, your lips twisted into a puzzled frown.

“He’s been missing for, like, an hour. Nobody’s seen him apparently. Figured I’d ask you since you’d been staring at him for three hours.” You scoff at the comment and cross your arms. 

“I wasn’t staring at him.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Mingyu nods as if he believes you, but you know good and well that he doesn’t, and he doesn’t really care either. “Anyway, last we heard is that he was drunk off his ass and trying to talk to you, I think. I dunno. Something about a mental breakdown?” 

Your throat began to close, but you forced yourself to speak again.

“I have no idea where he is, Mingyu, and I don’t plan on searching for him.” That’s a lie. You both know it just based on the way your eyes flick toward the back door and your teeth gnaw on the corner of your lip. A small, almost pitying smile crosses the tall frat boy’s lips. 

“Well, if you see him, tell him that we’re waiting for him to play pong.”

“Will do.” He tries to slip through the crowd, but his bulky frame bumps into several different guests, which causes him to spew out a variety of different apologies until he makes it to the dirty plastic table that had been set up on the other side of the room. 

You know you shouldn’t find him. Every instinct in you is screaming for you to just stay where you are, find Joshua, or just leave the house. But a small piece of you, something so minuscule you almost don’t feel it, is asking you to please find him. Make sure he’s okay. Don’t let him suffer on his own again as if you hadn’t been suffering on your own for months. Years, even. 

You stare down at the drink in your cup, the ice in it now melted to create a watered-down tequila mixture. You know you won’t drink it. Know that it won’t do anything to provide you with the courage you need to do this. 

~

The music is muffled now that you’re outside, but your ears are ringing from the sudden change in noise level. You’re shocked to see no one out here. Usually, there’s a bit of a crowd trying to escape the noise and have a quiet conversation. You’d think that more would be out here just to enjoy the weather after a brutally cold winter. 

But there’s no one. 

Probably ideal for the conversation you’re about to have.

You inhale quietly, staring at the oak tree that’s barely twenty feet from where you stand. The branches have begun to grow leaves, shielding anyone who might be under it. Shielding Jeonghan, who you know is tucked behind the trunk and isolating himself. That’s what the two of you would always do if you wanted to get away from the noise. One of you would sneak out of the house, out of the view of the guests, and tuck yourselves behind the tree. The other would join a few minutes after. It didn’t matter which of you wanted to leave, somehow both of you ended up under the tree at the end of every party, waiting for everyone to go home or go to bed.

“Jeonghan?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, but it’s enough to get his attention. You see his head lean to the side, almost laying completely on his shoulder. His dark strands of hair fall to one side of his head, a shine catching on them from the lights of the house. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Getting away from the party.” His voice isn’t slurred, which is a good sign. He’s probably had a few drinks but nothing to keep him from talking to you. “Too loud in there these days. They’re gonna go deaf.”

“They’ll be fine. Are you okay?” You don’t sit beside him. You don’t make any moves to be anywhere but five feet in front of him, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. You wait for the discomfort of the situation to set in, but it doesn’t. 

Not yet, anyway.

“Peachy.” You can see a cup of something next to him, pressed between two large tree roots. “You?” He doesn’t look at you. Not in the eyes, anyway. He’s scanning your body from head to toe, likely trying to figure out if you’re actually with him. 

“Let’s get you back inside. The boys want to play pong and they need you in there.” You avoid the simple question. When you look at him again, he looks…sad. Broken, really. You stick your hand out for him to take, and he looks at it with furrowed eyebrows.

You stay like that for a few moments. He sits against the trunk of the tree, staring at your outstretched hand thoughtfully. You stand a few feet away from him, your arm beginning to ache and the air beginning to bite at your skin. 

“Remember the first thing I said to you?” He finally asks. You drop your hand and sigh. 

“You called me pathetic.”

“I called you weak.” he corrects. “There’s a difference.”

“Not a big one.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Do you know why I said that?” Your heart is beginning to ache. You know he’s going to tell you all the reasons he hated you as if you weren’t aware of them already. “Because I was jealous of you.” 

“You were jealous?” Your nose scrunches and you move closer to him, out of pure curiosity. He watches you take a seat next to him, flinches when your arms brush together. “Why?”

“Because you were everything I wasn’t.” 

“Right, because you weren’t free to feel things.” Your neck cracks when you turn to look at him. Jeonghan laughs and nods.

“I guess so, if you wanna make me sound like a robot.”

“You might as well be.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“I think I’ve earned this.” He goes quiet, and you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. If you took it a step further than you should have, and now he’s going to hate you and your whole friend group will be forced to pick sides, just like Joshua said would happen. 

“You think too much,” he’s looking at you now and when you lock eyes, he doesn’t look away. 

“Maybe.”

“I always kinda liked that about you. The way you think about everything. But sometimes you think too much, and you get lost down this rabbit hole that no one can pull you out of.”

“I mean if you put it like that…”

“Don’t go thinking on me now,” he nudges you and you smile. “Don’t wanna have a conversation with a brick wall.”

“Oh ha ha,” you pick at the skin around your thumbnail and lean your head against the bark of the tree. “Isn’t it weird how…even with everything that happened, you’re still the person I’m most comfortable with?” 

“What about Joshua?” Jeonghan sounds bitter, but you know he isn’t. He knows you would never like Joshua, at least not how you like him. 

“Nah, he doesn’t get me like you do.”

“Careful now, you almost sound like you love me.” still. You almost sound like you love me still. You know that’s what he wants to say, with the way he cuts himself off like he was punched in the gut. The way his eyes water just slightly, and when the light hits them just right it looks like they’re shining brighter than the stars above the two of you. 

“Oh, wouldn’t that be a scandal?” Your voice is soft now, and neither of you laughs this time. There’s a sad cloud floating above you two, waiting to pour down rain and drench the two of you. 

“I really am sorry, sweetheart.” Your heart swells when he says that. Your throat closes up once more and you have to take a moment before you speak. “I didn’t mean anything that I said to you that day.”

“You did, though.” He opens his mouth to argue but you place your hand on his knee to stop him. “You did mean it, you just…didn’t exactly intend to say it. Yes, it hurt to hear it out loud for the first time. Yes, I hate you for saying it and confirming what I already knew. But…it isn’t necessarily your fault. I mean, it is, but also it isn’t. You can’t help that you were raised like that. You can’t help that you resented me for being able to feel what you wanted to. You didn’t…you didn’t receive the same love as I did when I was growing up, and that isn’t your fault. What is your fault is how…you didn’t tell me anything. I had to find out from people around us why you hated me so much. I had to find out from Joshua that…that you did love me, you just didn’t know how to show it or prove it.”

“I know, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry.” A tear slips from his eye and you smile when you wipe it away. Your hand lingers, and he presses his cheek into your palm. You feel him exhale a warm breath of air and his eyes shut. 

“I know you are. And I want to forgive you, Hannie, I do. It’s just…it’s going to take some time.”

“I know,” he place his hand over yours and squeezes lightly. “I know it will.” 

A comfortable silence washes over you, and you feel a cold breeze wash over your skin. Your body trembles from the cold and Jeonghan frowns at you.

“Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

“To be fair, I thought I’d be inside the whole time and it gets very warm in there.” Jeonghan scoffs and starts to remove his jacket, despite your quiet protests. 

“You need to start bringing a sweatshirt or something to keep you warm. You know we come out here a lot, so why didn’t you think of this?” He scolds you, forcing you to slip your arms into his jacket while he does. It’s a few sizes too big for you and the sleeves go fast past your hands, but you don’t mind. It’s warm, and comforting, and honestly you might not return it to him. 

“I’m sorry.” You lean your head on his shoulder, and he stiffens for a moment. “I’m sorry for not understanding.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Your lack of understanding is my fault, and mine alone. I didn’t…I just didn’t trust you enough, which I see was a mistake.” His hand rises to touch the back of your head, his fingers rubbing where your hair has been tied and relieving the ache that had begun to form. You feel him starting to relax against you, his shoulders sinking and his legs slipping down to lay flat across the grass. You hear a door open behind you, and a few laughs. On instinct, you start to pull away, but Jeonghan’s grip tightens, keeping you secured to him. 

You expect him to make a comment. You almost want him to. 

Instead he looks toward the sky, partially blocked by the low-hanging branches and smiles.

“The stars are pretty tonight, aren’t they?” You lift your head to look at him. He keeps his eyes facing forward, but the hand he has in your hair slips down to your shoulder and he draws you into him.

You smile before you respond.

“Yeah, I guess they are.”

If we can walk this path together again

I want to hold your hands and give you warmth

If I hold your cheeks with warmed hands

Will you smile again for me?

~

TAGLIST: @woofie-nctzen-fanarts-320 @dearlyjin @joenghaniee @mikachu-chu @listxn @youre-on-your-ownkid @ti--red @springdaybreaks @momoxxchewz @rum-gone-why @everyoneluvscheol @dr3aluv5 @shiningstar-byulxx @preets-kpop-world @fragmentof-indifference @stfuayu @fanfic24

[tommykinard6]

I love your headcanons!

Why do you think Tommy has a difficult relationship with sex and how does that show?

Also do you have any more ideas about the emergency contact one? Like the first time they get a call from the hospital...

Yessss thank you so much for asking about those headcanons! I’ve been wanting to talk about these.

I actually just got another ask about the emergency contact and I’m going to go super in depth for that, so stay tuned!

But why do I think Tommy has a difficult relationship with sex? I’m so, so glad you asked. This is one of my biggest headcanons.

However! Please read with caution. TW: for a form of self h*rm involving sex, self hatred, and internalized homophobia.

Tommy was extremely closeted for most of his life. When he was at the 118, he couldn’t even accept himself. But at some point, he stopped being able to ignore it. For me, this might be when he realized he liked Sal (see my other post).

Now for some people, exploring your sexuality includes a *ahem* wild phase. To me, Tommy had two parts of this phase. The first one was…not great.

Tommy was a self loathing closeted man. He hated himself for being gay. He wanted to be “normal”. So when he stopped being able to ignore it, he thought he could “get it out of his system”. So he went to bars outside of LA (he wasn’t risking bumping into anyone he knew) and hooked up with any man who showed interest. He wasn’t picky. He was just more focused on getting out of this “phase”.

So he hooked up with a lot of men. And he didn’t care about himself at all. In fact, he out right hated himself every time. So it devolved. If something didn’t feel good, Tommy leaned into it because he saw it as punishment. He used sex to punish himself and to hurt himself.

I’m not quite sure about how he pulled himself out of it, but we’ll go with this. My idea is that he had a sexual partner who caught onto what was going on, that Tommy secretly hated something happening but refused to stop on his own. The partner shut down the event and when he called out, gently, Tommy on what was happening, Tommy broke down. The partner held him and listened to his garbled story and talked him through it. Instead of the hookup, they spent that night just talking, with the partner trying to get Tommy to see what was happening and get him out of the slump.

And it didn’t fix it. Tommy continued this pattern for a couple more hookups, but he started to get discontented and uncomfortable. Around this time maybe, the 118 got Bobby Nash and the dynamic started changing. Sal was gone and working with Hen, an openly queer firefighter, started to shift how he looked at himself.

So Tommy stopped the hookups and started working on himself. He couldn’t quite face himself still, but he worked on liking himself outside of his sexuality. He started laying down boundaries when he hooked up. And then he left the 118 and started therapy. He was ready to start over. He was tired of the pain and the self hate and the cycle he’d been stuck in for so long. He wanted what he’d seen others have. He saw Hen with her wife and he wanted a bond like that and he knew it could never be with a woman.

Skip forward all this time and he’s learned to be gentle with himself. He finally loves himself. He has embraced his sexuality. Maybe he’s still friendly with that past partner or maybe they never spoke again, idk. He’s had some relationships but nothing’s really stuck. Then he meets Evan Buckley.

He meets Evan Buckley and he feels the sun for the first time. And Evan is still figuring himself out and Tommy not only really likes him, but also wants to make sure Evan doesn’t make the same mistakes he did.

Does that answer the question? Let me sum it up.

Tommy used sex to punish himself and those were his first real experiences with guys. So even now, in healthier relationships and with better mindsets, he doesn’t do the hookup game anymore and is very shy of having sex too soon. He doesn’t have sex without knowing and trusting the person.

Y’all I have no idea if this made sense, but this is literally the premise of a story in my brain.

[arrietty-rune]

Hello there ! Updated my AU The Steam Tales of Elmore and redesigned some characters since the first drawings were a bit meh

The story happens in a steampunk version of Elmore so news features and locations in the city, outside this, the citizens are (almost) the same as the show.

The story follow mainly the kids, being older here, having the routine as always. But strange things happens everywhere in the town and are called anomalies. They are recognizable by glitches and have different forms, like objects, weird crack on wall, floor and even... entities.

As they're shown to be dangerous to citizens, they have to be destroyed. A group of teens are working to fix or eliminate them as quickly as possible, but finding them could take a while. Nobody know where they are coming from and why they attack people.

You can like/rb this post without reading what's next!! For some being interested by more (including a small description of each character), here we go ♡

These characters are the common/main ones, idk about a main protagonist ngl !! Here's a small description of each of them !

Gumball Watterson (15 years old): An optimistic kid who always tries to be the hero but mostly fails due to unknown knowledge from the enemy… Alco because he acts before he thinks, despite being smart sometimes.

Darwin Watterson (13 years old): Gumball's little brother who is very nice and seems to be very innocent and like to comfort the others. He was a family pet before he grew lungs and gain the ability of speaking, but unlike in The Origins, he never grew legs. His mechanic ones were gifted thanks to charity.

Penny Fitzgerald (15 years old): A friendly and helpful girl. Though she like to give help and support, she's a bit reserved. Her family wears shells in tradition but broke hers when she was a toddler. The mask she wears are the remains of it.

Rob Needlemeyer (16 years old): A smart and tall kid who think and do planning before acting. He lost his arm 3 years ago after being in contact with a glitchy crack and is replaced by a mechanic one. As being able to be extended, he uses it commonly in routine, especially to help with one of his dads' works. (nb: Rob was never sent to the Void and isn't aware of its existence.)

Tobias Candella (15 years old): An energetic kid that, like Gumball, act before thinking. He used to be a selfish kid and a troublemaker in the past and tries now to be nice, despite being impulsive. As a playful boy who was addicted to video games once, he like to put references from it. He loves Dnd with passion and is very good as being the Dungeon Master.

Rachel Candella (18 years old): Tobias' big sister. She is smart and careful toward her loved ones but act reserved most of time. She usually works alone and is able to know easily the locations of entities compared to others. (nb: Tobias and Rachel have their mom's family name here since she and Harold are divorced)

Clare Cooper (18 years): A quiet girl that prefers to act or analyse the situation before sharing anything to everyone. She can be rude and is sometimes annoyed of stupid people.

Julius Oppenheimmer Jr. (16 years): A kid used to be a troublemaker. Being nicer today, he still can lost his temper when someone annoys him. As having good fighting skills, he can lead the other kids at fighting anomalies in a easier way.

And voilà ! I hope this give you some interest !! Feel free to ask about this, I'm planning to work on it a lot ♥

[waiting-makes-me-antsy]

Why the KOSA Bill Should Not Pass

tw: ab0rtion talk, assault mention, su1cide mention

also, credit to @the-realest-spot-conlon for getting this strike started. i've known about this bill for a while but until she talked about it, i hadn't really researched what this bill would have in store for the united states.

this will be a bit dark because this is sort of a speech against the KOSA bill and the bill basically wants to ban any talk of abortion, protesting and the LGBTQ+ community from kids under 16- WHICH the parents have no control over controlling what their child could see and the government would basically be saying:

"oh that's inappropriate" to say something like, idk, an inclusive video

and basically sort of brainwashing an entire generation

so yeah this will be a bit dark so don't read if you might be uncomfortable with the topics this sort of speech will have

(and this is directed at the government so when I say 'you' in the paragraphs it's towards the government)

[i removed the first part because it's a bit more personal and uh i dont think it should be shared here :sob]

And while it might seem a bit overexaggerated, it’s true. There are teenagers all over the united states, countries and the globe who face problems like these. And it’s not just verbal. No, there is physical violence and assault, hate crimes happening to students everywhere.

You might now be asking: “What does this have to do with the KOSA bill?”

I hate to say it but the internet has truly been my one and only friend I can ever count on. Who I always know has my back. The LGBTQ+ community doesn’t care if I’m not super skinny or if I have scars lining my arms. They support the fact I don’t really have any romantic feelings towards other people or really just romantic feelings in general. They make me feel normal. That it’s okay to not feel inclined to have and align with the normal gender rules. That I don’t have to follow the binary.

The internet is the only place I can analyze poetry and art deeply with different interpretations and analyzations of every single line, or every single stroke in a painting or word in a novel. Where I can freely talk about my new hyperfixation and no one will stare at me weirdly. Instead, they will respond with another essay.

They won’t say it’s “fucking sad” that I like to write essays in my free time- one of the only ways I can truly express myself because no one at school wants to hear me talk.

And it’s not just a safe place for me. No, it’s a place where everyone as a whole can express their rights and their thoughts. This is our future generation- our future leaders we’re talking about. If the only things that can make us realize what we need to change are censored, how will we ever be able to fix these problems that citizens make? 

Abortion laws. Yes I’m saying that. You want to censor any talk of abortion. What about all the innocent girls out there? Brutally assaulted and forced to ruin their career because they can’t get rid of a baby that’s not even developed yet. That doesn’t even have feelings or a brain yet. It’s just a tiny hint of life, not a fully classified human being yet. An embryo. And so now, they will have to face anxiety, depression, guilt, maybe even shame and ruin for the rest of their lives. 

They don’t have a free choice. But America is supposed to be freedom for the people! And here you are, taking away futures. Taking away future doctors, lawyers and even presidents. Just to save a cell inside their stomachs. Just to make them risk their lives giving a painful birth that will destroy their bodies. No brain, no feelings and no heartbeat. 

We need to know the wrongs in our world to stop them! To be able to protest against them! To be able to stand up for ourselves! So the older generations won't keep making votes that will ruin OUR futures.

Let’s look back at the first right for our states. Freedom of Speech. Huh, sound familiar to your bill? You want to take away protesting from the eyes of our future. From what can help them make the right decisions for our nation. So they can learn to lead. But no, you just want to raise mindless sheep that will bend to your will because they never had any exposure to what can help them break away. 

This bill will ruin lives. It will break apart the nation into pieces like a glass window broken by a bullet. Because if this bill passes, I bet you this: suicide rates will go up. Depression rates: up. Without the comfort of people who you actually connect to, isolation will take over your feelings and it just leads you into a downward spiral.

Imagine you’re a 13 year old who just watched their entire future torn to shreds by a bill signed. You just took their voice away. Their rights away. Possibly their entire life away. Consider that.