#and then i my depression hit like a train and i stopped going to class and was under academic probation

[weaseltotheface]

ugh i have to start paying my student loans again in September

[addy-urdaddy]

❝ Mr. Evans fires up his projector, the screen of his laptop appearing on the big white board in front of the class as he begins making the rounds, handing back our latest essays.  “So I’m going to go out on a limb here, Miss Sinclair,” Evans says, stopping at my desk and holding my paper as he peers down at me. “Did you actually read the book, or did you read reviews?” I hear a snort behind me —from one of those horny football douchebags, no doubt— and I smile. “ You asked for an analysis of the story, so I watched the movie,” I explain, plucking my Anna Karenina paper out of his hand. “Spoiler alert, there was a lot of sex in it. ” Laughter breaks out, and I feel a rush hit my veins, pumping me up like a fresh shot of espresso. Mr. Evans and I constantly go head-to-head, yet I can’t help but admit that he is my favorite professor.  “I asked for an analysis of the novel, Ade– Miss Sinclair.” “And I tried” I tell him. “ But it was depressing and in a pointless way. What was I supposed to learn? Women, don’t cheat on your husbands in nineteenth century Russia, or you’ll be cast out of society and forced to throw yourself in front of a train?” I sit up in my seat. “Got it. And the next time I’m in nineteenth century Russia, I’m going to remember it and be a good little wife, thank you.” I hear the football douchebag chuckle again behind me, and more giggles break out in the room. But Evans lowers his voice, looking me deep in the eyes. “You’re so much better than this, Adelaide. Playing dumb and loud doesn’t make you more seen, but you’ll learn that one day,” he whispers. I stare at him for a moment, seeing the plea in his eyes. Seeing how highly he thinks of my intellect and how angry he is that I don’t make better use out of it. Too bad, I’m not done. Not when I feel the radiant energy of being the center of attention.

► Adelaide Summer Sinclair I » born into the wealthy, catholic sinclair family, as the daughter of a hotel heiress and a politician. · fashion journalism and communication student · pretty little liar with a dark secret, that not only made her an arsonist, but the poster child of rich privilege. · sassy and with a tongue so sharp, everyone's in danger to get cut.

wire: addyyourdaddy play: as long and deep as you like & german or english, ur choice. relationshipstatus: single, but probably cheeky enough to flirt with your father behind your back.

[v3nusxsky]

I can’t lose you

*Authors note~ absolutely loving these prompts you guys are requesting. Loving conversing with all and learning more about how my writing is helping you all. It's my own therapy so I'm just glad it can at least bring joy to someone else. Read on my doves*

Tw~ self harm,Depression, Anxiety, trauma response

Prompt< prompt 1 (please talk to me) and prompt 72 (she's at the hospital. I don't know what happened) requested by the lovely idkaname666666 wattpad

It was bad again. You knew that. You should be happy now you know that too, but this dark cloud won't go away. You may get a small break in the clouded cover but it will always remain. Some days it would be light and opaque others it would be dark and thick. Today was the dark clouds. Thankfully you'd managed to survive your classes today, only now it was hitting you like a train. Which is how you were now curled up in front of the fire, skin exposed just numb. The scaring old and new littered your arms all in the different stages of healing. It seemed as if you were running out of skin that hadn't been marked by your own hand. Not only was it your arms , no it was your thighs and stomach too. Years of struggling tattooed on your body in a painful reminder. The dark days always with you.

Tears flowing freely yet no sound escaping you, your hands shook looking at what you had done. You really didn't mean to do so much. It was only meant to be just one. You always told yourself it was just one. But one turns into two and two into four. A never ending pattern. Even when you tried to stop, your body craves it. The stinging sensations present, reminding you of your subconscious need. Craving release that only could be sought from that action.

It's only the knock at your door that snaps you from your own thoughts. Fuck! How could you hide this? Who would be looking for you now? The school day ended over three hours ago. "Just one moment" you called out in a shaky voice quickly covering all your exposed skin. With a quick once over in the mirror and a wipe of any stray tears that still remained. You quickly opened the door just a crack and peaked through the gap. "L-la-Rissa?" You stuttered. She was the last person you thought would be looking for you. "May I?" She gestured to the door with her hand and you nodded moving aside numbly letting her in. You quickly shut the door and led her to sit in front of the dancing flames once more.

"Darling, I've noticed recently you seem a little low recently" you could tell by the worried glint in her eyes. "I'm fine Larissa" you mumbled looking anywhere but her eyes. "Y/n ? Please talk to me. I know something is wrong, even your students do darling." Tears clouded your eyes, your students knew? How? God you thought you'd done so well with hiding this. Apparently not tho.

Maybe it was a good thing that this happened, after all you finally got the chance to open up. Larissa was lovely. She sat and listened as you explained just what was happening. Held you as you cried. Her hands stroking through your hair, soothing words cocooning around you. Maybe just maybe you could see some light breaking through the cloud. Exhausted from your bad day you started to drift off in the taller women's strong embrace. Feeling safe and content for the first time in a long time.  You were gently carried to your room and placed into your bed which caused you to stir slightly at the movement. A whimper escaping your exhausted body when you lost the physical contact. "Hush my darling you're okay go back to sleep, just rest." She hummed out and you could've sworn you felt her lips ghosting your forehead. But maybe you imagined it in your exhausted state.

That was a few nights ago. And you'd had some good days following it. The good feelings lingering from the principals comforting actions. She hadn't mentioned it to you since that night, lingering gazes and gentle brushes of her hand against you as she passed you in the halls but no awkwardness at all. Something in her gaze had changed but you couldn't quite pinpoint it. Of course you'd wanted to talk to her about it, say thank you for comforting you through your bad day but you just couldn't bring yourself to doing it. Maybe that's why when it got bad again you couldn't go to her.

No instead you were once again on your own, back to your old comforting methods of coping. The comfort from the familiar pain grounding you. Numbing out the pain in your heart. Although this time, you'd gone too far. You didn't mean to of course. Normally you could control it. But not today. You were unable to stop yourself now. Tears flowing, mind running rampant as you  started slowly losing consciousness. Maybe just maybe this would be it. Your forever darkness.

Coach Vlad was a close friend of yours, and weekly you'd spend the evening catching up. After all you were still quite new to Nevermore, and you found it hard to make new friends. You and Vlad had been friends for years due to your families knowing eachother. He knew of your depression and anxiety. He knew you took medication to manage it. He also knew of your other coping mechanisms. Not ones he encouraged you to explore, but he also understood you couldn't stop. An addictive habit like that is extremely hard to control. But never in all the years of friendship you shared had he found you like this. Bleeding out, unconscious on the floor with tear stained cheeks. Instantly, his first aid training kicked in, checking for your breathing. It was there slow and shallow but there. On instinct he called it in, putting pressure on the self inflicted wounds waiting for the paramedics to arrive. Once they did and he handed you over to their care, he immediately left to find the one person he knew you'd want at your bedside. After all you had let on to him your feelings for the tall blonde, and she had let him in on her feelings. Neither of you brave enough to tell the other.

Rapid knocks hammered against the heavy mahogany doors, "Larissa , it's y/n!" He explained the emotion thick in his voice. After all his best friend had just been carted off bleeding out in front of his very eyes. "Y/n? Vlad what happened?" The concern and fear anchoring every word. "She's at the hospital. I don't know what happened. She's normally in control of it. She must have gone to far this time" the tears now plucking at his eyes. That was all it took for Larissa to rush past him like a hurricane intent on finding you.

Driving faster than she was sure was legal, Larissa made her way to the hospital. Panic causing her to function on adrenaline. What had Vlad meant gone to far? Why didn't you come to her. Why would you do this to your beautiful self? So many questions left unanswered as she burst into the hospital. "Y/n y/l where is she" her voiced boomed out startling the receptionist. "Room 37, principle Weems" she stuttered out at the blonde women's retreating form. Not even allowing the women to finish she stalked her way to room 37, driven by the pure need to just lay eyes on you.

Finding the room easily she peaked in at your unconscious form, arms bandaged up, monitors steadily beating. You were alive. Thank god. She entered the room quietly taking in the sight of you hooked up to many different machines. The rhythmic beating providing her with some reassurance. She came to your bed side and sank down in the chair. Only now processing what she'd been feeling, only now she knew you were at least alive. "Oh Y/n, my darling why didn't you come to me. I could've helped, I can't stand that you feel like this alone to the point you feel the need to do this. My darling I can't stand to see you this way." Her emotions causing the words to sound strangled as she whispered them to what she thought was your unconscious form. "I must confess I can't tell you when your awake, maybe I did you wouldn't be here now, but darling I well I love you. I can't lose you. So you must heal okay? Heal and come back to me so maybe I can spend the rest of my days showing you, you'll always have me" the tears falling from her eyes landing on your now joint hands. Her head dropped to rest against your hands just happy to feel your warmth, being extremely cautious of your bandages.

It was the weak squeeze you gave that had her upright in seconds, "Y/n? Your awake? Are you in any pain!? What can I do?" She panicked not sure what to do for the best. "Sit down Larissa" you tried to demand but it came out weak, causing you to cringe at your voice. How much blood had you lost this time? Your vision was blurry and you assumed the stinging in your arm was the fluid being pushed into your intervene-us drip. You were shocked when she did as asked. "I Larissa I'm sorry" you mumbled dumbly. Nothing you could say would help ease the pain you could see in her eyes. "Oh darling don't be sorry, it's okay. Just please come to me when you feel so low." You could tell by her voice she was sincere. "I'm sorry Rissa I didn't want to bother you..." you trailed off avoiding her gaze. You caused her so much pain it almost made you wish you'd not woken.

"Darling, I need you to really hear these words." She stated and you nodded in acknowledgment, "you aren't ever a bother to me, I promise you. I gosh this is harder than I thought, I love you Y/n..." this time it was Larissa avoiding your gaze, missing how the tears flowed down your cheeks. "You what?" You murmured quietly. "I love you Y/n I thought you'd died on me." The pain evident once more. "I I love you too" you whimpered out through your sobs. "Oh darling don't cry please don't cry" she faltered wishing to gather you in her arms but not wanting to hurt you. You shifted creating a space so she could curl around your broken body. She did so willingly stroking through your curls and dropping sweet little kisses to your head. Your body still exhausted from the ordeal it had suffered, you lay there blinking away the sleep that her ministrations we causing. "Hush darling just rest now, I have you Y/n. I love you darling please rest for me. I'll be here with you when you awake." She reassured you as you finally gave into the exhaustion.

Word count~ 1943

*Authors note~ this was very therapeutic but hard to write I tired to avoid too much detail but I hope I did the prompt some justice, filler post*

[breakingupthelove]

Into the night

I suggest you read the original before mine

The Temptation of Thanatos / Thanatos no Yūwaku – i'm trying (wordpress.com)

Eros and Thanatos; life and death. The balance which kept everything secure. As you listened to your History teacher drone on and on about Greek mythology, you knew exactly who you considered the latter and you suppose you were the former, there couldn’t be two deaths, could there?

In your daydream filled haze, you zone back in and a familiar face stomps into class half an hour late. It was Niki, your personal Thanatos. He dumps his bag down and thumps into the seat next to you. “And what’s your excuse this time?” The teacher asks "I was, um, in the art base" the dark haired boy replies, not looking up, "Hmmm, okay, but try not to let extra projects get in the way of my class again" she says as she turns back to the board. Even though you were Niki’s friend, it annoyed you how he never got in trouble.

"So as I was saying, certain people once are inclined to each state. It was believed that Thanatos would disguise as someone, his potential victim loved, in order to lure them to his side". Slowly you put your arm on the desk and lay your head down, careful not to mess up your ponytail. Next to you, Niki was sketching in his notepad, dark eyes focused. All you could think of was that he was 100% one of Thanatos' followers. He was always quite reserved, hardly speaking, and he had an affinity for drawing the most depressing things.

Of course, there was also the monthly texts of "You can have my art supplies, just as long as you make sure I'm remembered" and every time you would rush up to the rooftop of the flats to stop him. In fact, you believed that he wanted you to stop him, that he wanted to be helped. Unfortunately, every time you suggested counselling or talking to his social worker, the answer was always the same, a big fat "no". He would always insist he was fine.

This night was not an exception. As soon as you got the text you grabbed your jacket and phone and swiftly ran up the rooftop. Lo and behold, you saw Niki, with his legs dangling above the city below. As if he could sense you behind, he said "Don't you ever get sick of this all? I mean, you’re just like me in a way, no one there for you" he jumped up, grabbing you and pulling you close to him. "We could escape this, all one more step and this will all be over nothing left to hurt us."

You jerked out of his grasp, not wanting him to see how much you wanted to take up on his offer. Truth be told, perhaps you yearned for death more than Niki did, all you could think of was how sick, how sick and tired you were. “You know you want to…” his voice breaks your train of thought, and you sigh. As you turn around, you make up your mind, but first, you had one question, and you. "Niki, I decided I want to, but first I’m gonna ask something, and you need to answer, okay?". You see the biggest smile you’ve ever seen light up his face, "Mhm, what is it?" You take a deep breath, "Do you like me? Like like like?" He screws up as you "I don't think I've got enough feelings for that... but I guess if I could, I'd pick you to love, but it's basically a yes!"

"I like you too" you reply, walking to the edge with him. As you took a step breath, your legs trembling. How pretty the lights were and how glad you were that they would be your last vision. While lost in the sight of a thousand gorgeous lights, Niki grabs your hand and takes a step forward. "Ready?" he says, soft tone somehow so audible on this soundless, starry night. You nodded in reply, not trusting yourself to speak. Without warning, he jumps, taking you with him and pulling you close to his chest, wind whipping in your ears.

As you fell it was as if you were flying, you were finally going to be free of all this suffering and pain. You awaited the sickening crunch of bone as the two of you hit the ground. Instead, you touched the ground as soft as a feather, and you felt an odd chill come over you, starting at your the centre heart and creeping into the ends of your body.

Groggily, you look up at Niki and see a sinister smirk on his features "Finally..." he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, “after so many years, finally enough people to get even with Eros” The revelation hit you dully, like a heavy rock weighing down on your chest. As you felt the last remnants of life leave all you could think was how ironic it was. You were going in death's arms. And with that your short-lived life ended, and you realised there could be two people inclined to death after all, provided one was death himself.

Fin.

A.N: So like this takes heavy inspo from the original, and this is actually what I submitted for my english creative essay 😭😭

[altoace]

✨Guess who just read X-Men: Children of the Atom (1999)?✨

Here’s some incorrect quotes for these dumb children that I adore.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

*in the Danger Room*

Bobby: Is anyone else scared?

Scott: Not really. I’ve already lived longer than I expected.

— — — — —

Jean: We call that a traumatic event!

Hank, turning to Scott: Not a “Yikes” moment!

Hank, turning to Warren: Or a “Major L”!

Hank, turning to Bobby: Or an “Ooph lmao”!

— — — — —

Warren: How much sleep did you get?

Scott: Like eight.

Warren: Hours?

Scott: Minutes.

— — — — —

Warren: Scott, I don’t know to tell you this, but you’re in love with me.

Scott: I am?

Scott:

Scott: Oh my god, I am!

Hank: What kind of confession am I witnessing?

— — — — —

Scott: Due to personal reasons, I will be sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box.

Bobby: Warren said “I love you” and you said “Thank you”, didn’t you?

Scott: The reasons are pERSONAL!

— — — — —

Jean: I can’t believe you’re training today, Scott. Why aren’t you in bed?

Scott, with his voice clearly gone: I feel fine.

Bobby: That’s what we’re going to put on his gravestone. “He felt fine”.

— — — — —

Magneto: I will spare you misguided children if you are able to answer these riddles. He who makes me doesn’t want me. He who buys me doesn’t need me. He who uses me doesn’t care. What am I?

Scott: A child!

Magneto: Jesus Christ that’s dark. Are you okay? Do you need a heart-to-heart talk about this?

— — — — —

Warren: Okay, here’s the plan. First, we set off the fire alarms—

Hank: Warren, we can’t set off an alarm if there’s no fire; we’ll get in trouble!

Warren: Okay, fine. First, we’ll start a fire—

— — — — —

Warren: Do you ever get that feeling when you look at someone and your heart skips a beat?

Scott: That’s called arrhythmia.

Warren: I get that feeling every time I see you—

Scott: You can die from that.

Warren: I know you’re smart, but can you please stop for one second?

— — — — —

Scott: What do you even see in me…?

Warren: You should sit down.

Warren: {takes out an endless list}

Scott: Wha—

Warren: Let’s begin from the first time I saw your eyes (read: glasses) glimmering while you sat next to the class’s window—

— — — — —

Hank: So Jean! Our dear friend and teammate!

Bobby: We just wanted to remind you of how much you love us!

Warren: And how boring your life would be without us!

Jean, completely done: What did you do?

— — — — —

Warren: We’re just…

Scott: Working!

Warren: Yes! We were just working…together…independently…

Jean: So. You two work without your clothes on?

— — — — —

Bobby: We could be killed!

Warren: Or worse, the professor could give us another lecture on “responsibility”!

— — — — —

Warren: I have an idea.

Jean: A good one?

Warren: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

— — — — —

Scott: Oh wow, this computer is huge.

Warren: Yeah, almost as big as my dic—

Scott: What?

Warren: —tionary…

— — — — —

Hank: What’s wrong with you?

Scott: Off the top of my head, I’d say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

— — — — —

Bobby: If I cut off my foot and, like, swing it at you, am I kicking you or hitting you?

Hank: You’ll most likely mentally scar me more than anything.

— — — — —

Warren: {flirts with Scott}

Scott: {flirts back}

Warren: Well, I wasn’t prepared for this outcome.

— — — — —

Xavier: What could be giving you anxiety?

Scott: Umm, let’s see. Every aspect of my life.

— — — — —

Jean: You have no idea how to show affection to anyone!

Scott: That is not true! I hugged Warren once!

Jean: That was a chokehold!

Scott: Same thing!

— — — — —

*after Xavier takes him in*

Scott: Mental health? Zero.

Scott: Am I okay? No.

Scott: Will I be okay tomorrow? Probably not.

Scott: Hotel? Trivago.

— — — — —

Warren, talking to Bobby: My sexuality is more complex, you see. It’s a spectrum.

Scott: {smiles at him from across the room}

Warren: Gay, I’m fucking gay.

— — — — —

Hank, telepathically to Jean: He’s in the kitchen again.

Warren: “Beat three eggs” in what? Hand to hand combat??

Jean: Get him out!

— — — — —

Scott: I like you how I like my emotions.

Warren: Explain?

Scott, whispering in his ear: Buried deep inside me.

— — — — —

Scott: Life keeps fucking me, and I can’t remember the safe word.

— — — — —

Bobby: {holds up rock covered in painted pride flags} Wanna throw this through a homophobe’s window?

Scott: I’m down, but heads up I might fall asleep halfway through. I’m barely awake right now.

— — — — —

Scott: There’s a tiger painted here. It’s got a fierce look on its face, as if to say, “Abandon all hope, all ye who enter here.”

Scott: Don’t worry, Mr. Tiger. Hope and I haven’t been on speaking terms for a while now.

— — — — —

Scott: Have you ever been handcuffed before?

Warren: Wait, sexually? Or by law enforcement?

— — — — —

Scott: I get really nervous when Warren compliments me. Sometimes, I really don’t know what to say.

*later*

Warren: You look beautiful today.

Scott, panicking: Happy Birthday—

— — — — —

Hank: Please, that is utter terminological inexactitude.

The rest of the o5:

Hank: {sighs} That’s bullshit, fuckers.

— — — — —

Jean: How many times do I need to tell you guys this? Pick up any trash you find and don’t leave it lying around! It’s not that hard!

Warren: There’s no need to talk about Bobby like that; he’s right here.

Bobby:

Jean and Hank: Warren, no—

Scott: Geez, Jean, you could’ve just asked me to leave and I would’ve.

Jean and Hank: SCOTT, NO—

— — — — —

Warren: You’re pretty cute when you’re nice.

Scott: What am I when I’m not nice?

Warren: Hot as fuck.

— — — — —

Warren: Hey, remember that time I accidentally walked around telling everyone I got a hentai tattoo instead of a henna tattoo?

Bobby: You mean the best day of my life?

Bobby: I recall.

[cloveroctobers]

can you do some headcanons on what it would be like to be Jordan and Olivia (all American)’s sister and to be a teen mom and to just be part of the whole vortex friend group? Loved ur Layla headcanons <33 Sorry this is hella specific and worded weird 😭 English is not my first language

BAKER SIBLINGS x3

A/N: glad you enjoyed them! + Your English is just fine👌🏾💜 & this ended up being a little more focused on Ada’s relationship with the twins actually and their childhood 😅 + I also was unsure how to end it, which I’m sure you’ll be able to tell once you get to the bottom lol.

WARNINGS: some possible triggering subject matters related to ED are mentioned somewhere down below. + GIF SEARCH IS ALWAYS DONE BY GOOGLE & BELONGS TO: @bakerolivia

・❥・ੈ✩‧₊˚ ・❥ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ・❥・ੈ✩‧₊˚ ・❥ ੈ✩‧

Ada Baker, also know as little Baker would be the baby sibling to the baker twins ofc.

Two years behind to be exact.

Current age as of season 5: 17/18? —Since the writers never have a consistent timeline/time frame— but it’s been brought to my attention due to the one of the episodes that Jordan is 19 so Olivia is also 19.

They’re both born in April, making them Aries babies

Two year old Jordan was not thrilled having another sister, which Laura and Billy found funny considering how close he ended up being to Ada.

Back then? They heavily got on each other’s nerves.

Ada is a cancer (born in late June) and although reserved/Stand off-ish to some, her closest friends and family know just how goofy she is just like the baker’s all can be.

She snorts when she laughs for one.

She’s also the first one to break out into dance moves with their dad Billy once he gets into his two-step routine or soul train moves, regardless of who’s watching, she loves laughing and dancing with that bald headed man.

Quiet yet sweet and temperamental all wrapped in one. First they’re sour, then they’re sweet—is definitely Ada!

The youngest sib is actually the most protective imo—she’ll throw hands for any of her sibs and will insert herself into any of their fights if need be.

Most of the time she’s open to seeing different perspectives but all hats are off when it goes to those that start shit with her big brother and sister.

Jordan and Ada are the fighters whereas Liv is more so on the verbal part, the girl is slick with her words but don’t underestimate—Liv has a mean uppercut and back hand. Have you seen those long arms?!

Was the “chubby” sibling growing up so lots of bullying was going on and kids also liked to pick on her freckles? How dumb! which resulted in fights and a few suspensions or detentions—older baker’s included.

Ada never had a reason to experience body dysmorphia (even when her own grandmother would make shady comments to Laura when they visited her for the weekend) until other kids started making it a big deal. 

She hit puberty early and the immaturity seemed to only increase due to being top heavy and not shaped so thinly like her mother or older sister.

Lots of depression, anger, wearing baggy clothing, and limiting their food intake became a thing during her middle school years and she became the first out of the family to seek therapy.

Billy didn’t think it was necessary, feeling that his daughter should just talk to him, his wife, or her siblings as the answer. It took some convincing and it wasn’t until Billy picked up on some unhealthy habits—like barely eating, purging, fainting from lack of nutrients, and seeing her constantly step on the scale three x a day, did he finally come around.

Then she took up kick-boxing which helped a lot along with her hobby of creating her own coraline inspired dolls and obsession with stop motion animation films.

She wasn’t as athletic as Jordan and she remembered being forced to attend dance classes as a kid with Liv but it ultimately wasn’t her thing.

Ofc sports were encouraged in the baker household and softball was a thing for awhile before kickboxing, “but you’re excellent at softball why would you want to give it up?” Billy asked an eight year old Ada who just shrugged her shoulders in the backseat after a game, “it’s boring daddy and I don’t want to do it anymore.” He was always softhearted for his baby girls so he didn’t pushed it but he became even more excited when Ada picked up kickboxing—not for the reason behind it though!

Ada’s kicks were insane!

“Ada, What’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done?” Olivia asked while the siblings decided to do a sibling tag for Liv’s Instagram.

The twins awaited Ada’s answer as she sat in between them and snorted, “probably get pregnant.”

Olivia nodded her head with her lips pushed out, lightly laughing as she returned her attention back to her phone, “Oop.”

“Well that’s all folks.” Jordan gave a two finger salute while Ada shrugged at the camera, a smirk on her lips.

It’s not like she purposely went out and got pregnant at fifteen but it was the first thing that came to mind—although there was probably a small list—she can be straight forward sometimes.

She went to Liv first with this huge secret, wanting her big sis to be there with her while she took the two tests from her Tongan boyfriend, who sneakily stole one from his older sister and bought the other.

“You better not be pranking me, Ada. This is serious.” Liv paced the floor while Ada was in the bathroom, tending to business.

“Why would I joke about this? You saw how much I was shaking when I told you.”

Liv sighed, knowing she was right. She was shocked that Ada even thought this was a possibility, eyes wide and almost gagging at the image of her sister being involved with her annoying jock boyfriend who didn’t even look sixteen.

But she also felt pride that Ada came to her first about this whole ordeal. The baker family was slowly getting better at paying more attention to each other and communicating so this actually means a lot that Ada trusted Liv with this secret.

With Liv reading the two pink lines for her and the second almost screaming: pregnant. she held onto her baby sister who fell into tears over this new change of direction her life was about to unfold.

Laura was told next before Ada’s bf at the time and Laura had the same reaction as liv: wide eyes and mouth agape before she rounded off questions: “how could you be so irresponsible? You’re only a child yourself! We’re making you an appointment first thing tomorrow morning to see how far along you are and your best options!”

Laura was just as upset as Ada but it was evident the girl was scared at the mere fact that she was having a child and that her family would probably disown her. Laura could see it in her child’s low-set damp eyes and with the way Liv was trying to be a mediator, she sighed trying to collect her thoughts, calming down.

Eventually Laura squeezed Ada to her chest, telling her that everything will be figured out and not to speak a word of it to her father until after the appointment.

Jordan found out anyways since her bf blurted it out one night when they ran into each other at this restaurant and Jordan roughed the younger boy up a bit for even “joking” about his sister like that before it was broken up.

Jordan invaded Ada’s privacy, going through her room to get some answers and when he did… he never could keep a secret—he brought it right to their father.

Billy and Jordan were heavily disappointed and said some very hurtful things that Laura immediately stepped in, her mommy bear instincts firing off at the two men in the house. “What’s the matter with you two? This is your daughter, your sister! To think what the both of you said to her was even remotely okay, tells me you don’t respect her as a person and I won’t stand for either of you speaking to her like that!”

Ada gave them both the silent treatment for a month until a sit down was demanded by Laura and Liv.

Apologies were made and life went on but that didn’t mean the wound wasn’t still there.

Ada rarely forgot much.

To be pregnant by your first love changed everything for Ada Baker. To have a bf so supportive, more supportive than her own father and brother meant a lot and she swore she was going to be with this guy forever.

Until he moved back to New Zealand, finding it selfish that her bf’s family just up and left knowing he had a child.

Which made things even harder for Ada. Juggling school—the gossip and the work load, the absence of her bf in raising their child together, simply being a teen mom was extremely hard, the change of her body after birth, she thought about old habits until she looked into the replica of her own hooded eyes that she handed down to her child, reminding Ada that she had to be better for her.

Everyday was a daily struggle but one thing is extremely true: Ada loved her daughter, dearly.

The little girl easily gained the number one spot for “best friend”

She loved having matching outfits with her and socializing with her who easily babbled back before she really learned how to speak.

Although Ada’s teenage years changed because of her daughter, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like without her vocal, smart, and active child.

It got a smidge easier as Ada’s baby got older, allowing her to spend more time with the vortex and her own set of friends. She became less needy but still adored Ada just the same.

There’s no other way to describe a child running up to you to give you the biggest hug after a long day 🥹

Attending high school, homework, work, and tending to a two year old before and after—majority of the time depending what time Ada got off. She was super thankful that Mama Laura stepped in most of the time along with the vortex. Ask her how she does it? Barely.

She gets frustrated with her child’s father since he’s not physically here to help and a FaceTime can only do so much.

I feel like the vortex wouldn’t exclude Ada as much as they got older. They’ve all been friends since childhood and she was always viewed as, “Little Bunny Baker” or simply “Little baker.”

The bunny stood for: Ada’s obsession with bunnies back when she was in elementary school.

The bakers never got into owning a cat or a dog. It was always a hamster or a fish since the family was usually always on the go.

Which resulted in Jordan accidentally k*lling Ada’s pet Bunny, leaving it outside in its cage during a heatwave in the hills while they were heading to the Grand Canyon one summer.

Ada would have done it herself and sure it was her responsibility but being rushed out of the house with a father like billy at the crack of dawn—Billy, Liv, and Ada left for the airport early to catch a morning flight since Laura couldn’t get off work until the afternoon and would be taking the evening flight with Jordan

Ada begged jordan on the phone to do it for her as they made it to the airport and Jordan said he would

Laura double checked with Jordan before they were also rushing out of the house to their car service and Jordan swore he did…

Until they came back and you can guess what was left for Ada there.

That was the last time she ever forgot to do something. Shout-out to childhood trauma!

anyways it wasn’t necessarily anything personal with the vortex, it’s just that she was a little young and they were older and they were the “cooler.” She was just kinda “weird” kid with glasses and freckles who wasn’t into what other kids were into. You know how that goes as the younger sibling…

JJ was probably the only one that didn’t make Ada feel some type of way as a kid. Always the big heart that one and Ada would be lying if she said a teeny crush wasn’t formed—back then!

Layla was sorta nice too, being Olivia’s glamorous best friend and all but Ada didn’t miss how they gossiped about her sometimes when Ada left the room—which resulted in Ada calling Liv out on it.

The screaming matches between those two growing up? It makes complete sense why Ada’s daughter has a set of strong vocal cords on her.

But hey that was all childhood stuff! As they got older, there was no need for the excluding of Ada Baker. She was just as much family as Jordan and Olivia.

If she’s down to party, she’s hitting up JJ and knows how to have a good time but knows her limit. Full on compliments from the long haired blond whenever he see’s her and he may or may not get a dance with her. “C’mon! None of that I don’t dance, crap!” “Okay, JJ! Just keep your hands where I can see them.” “Forsure! I’m a total gentleman, just ask all my lady lovers.” “This is where I leave you.” “Awww c’mon! I’m just giving a reference!”

She wasn’t the closest with asher, even when he dated Liv after Layla. She honestly didn’t approve of the relationship but Liv wasn’t trying to hear that. They actually shared some words here and there but now? They speak to each other much calmer now that he’s having a baby and is full of questions. Ada’s actually befriended Jaimee/Jaymee quite easily and Asher just wanted to get along with everyone that was cool with his gf.

Asher is the one constantly asking questions whereas Jaimee just tends to go with the flow. He’ll even text Ada at odd hours asking questions just to be hit with, “Asher, it’s midnight. Go to bed or I’ll cancel your ass again.” “Okay but before you consider doing that! What does colic mean again?” “Sorry but…Google is free.” “Who needs google when I have the real thing here?” “👋🏽” “hello?”

I’d say she’s probably closest with Jaimee and maybe Patience. They’re usually the two she’s hanging out with while the rest of the vortex maybe busy and if she isn’t dragged to hang with Jordayla (mostly by the request of Layla) and Liv or isn’t hanging out with her daughter or her own group tbh.

How does she feel about jordayla? It wasn’t much of a shock to her (or anyone) that this was a thing. Everyone knew and they failed so horribly to “hide it.”

They were all in each other’s faces like no one else was in the room at the baker’s household

“Well this is disturbing.” Ada mumbled to her mom, popping a zucchini slice in her mouth while she bounced her giggling daughter on one hip. Which earned a shush from Laura and a cackle from Liv.

Overall she may shit-talk the relationship but she’s happy that her brother found true love again after Simone and she definitely drags Jordan for proposing but is all smiles when Layla actually asks her to be a bridesmaid with a gift way down the line.

She’s a spelivia shipper, always rooting for them and she was always fond of Spencer the more he came around…kinda liking the idea that he may have biologically been a brother. Ada wouldn’t have minded another brother and Spencer seemed to become that regardless of blood and she liked how he always looked out for everyone (a gift and a curse!), especially Liv.

With Spencer came coop and just like Asher, Ada also had her ups and downs in their friendship but most of the time they got along and kinda had to since they all lived together.

Ada Baker is ultimately type 4, “the individualist,”(“Fours want to be unique and to experience deep, authentic emotions. Type Fours fear they are flawed and are overly focused on how they are different from other people”) when it comes to the vortex and basically life.

🍋 🐚🍋🐚🍋🐚🍋🐚🍋🐚🍋🐚🍋🐚🍋🐚

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

[windlion]

Malevolent podcast screamalong, ep 26

I was not expecting the update and just saw some frantic screaming in the tag so HOO BOY I am filled with foreboding.

Ohhh dear. Still in divorce mode, and the music is ominous AF. I was kind of betting that John would stop talking, too.

Arthur actually being sneaky, huh, shocking, (Hang on a second, does he class as a bard?!?! He does, doesn't he.)

"Larson isn't worth my humanity." DAMN good line.

Oh this is VERY good characterization, especially after the last ep being so chaotic. Arthur you goddamned hot mess.

Ooh that was squishy noises. And John are you *just* realizing that Arthur is suicidal? YES, YES I GUESS YOU ARE.

And Parker met him when he was in deep deep depression and alcoholism. Oh no. "Not about my. . ." *side-eyes* that did not sound like past, that sounded like present.

"Only a few months ago?" WOOF.

Ohhhh sorry, John, this is your first go at the Short Cut. And Arthur is actually being alarmingly competent.

"And nothing." (really matters~~~) *observes train wreck*

Is this the first time we hear violins??? AND THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME CRY, GODDAMNIT. That hit really hard in the depression feels.

Woooooo we all needed that. Arthur, John, and the entire goddamn audience. Thank you, Harlan Guthrie.

And it's been forever since they laughed. ;_; Fuck damn. That was SO GOOD.

[levinletlive]

Let's Talk About DBT

DBT is an acronym for Dialectical Behavior Therapy. It is a strategic therapy aimed at confronting our negative thoughts and emotions head-on, interpreting them, and then managing them in healthy ways. If you struggle with severe anxiety and depression, DBT is an indispensable mental health toolbox you can't afford to go without.

As a person who grew up and currently lives in poverty in one of the wealthiest countries on earth, persevering through depression and anxiety has been a lifelong battle. Without access to affordable healthcare, I didn’t know how common my issues were or how poorly I was managing them. And because I was in poverty, my time was largely eaten up by things that I felt were necessary to do in order to survive. Little did I realize that I was often making more work for myself and re-subjecting myself to my past trauma over and over again in a miserable feedback loop that was shaving years off of my life.

If you, like me, feel like you have good reason to be anxious and depressed, it can be hard to convince yourself of the benefits of seeking help. I thought, what could a therapist prescribe to me that would remove the sources of my stress? Medications only worked a little bit, but because of my circumstances I always had a lot of breakthrough (a term for when your condition gets so activated that it overwhelms the medication meant to treat it). Therapy can’t make the government or my job treat me better, it can’t make my parents better people, and it can’t promise me that I’m not going to suffer again. Those things are true, but they aren’t necessarily the end of the discussion.

I was reluctant to try DBT because it reminded me a lot of CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, not… the other thing), which had yielded low results for me. My therapist had told me that I was “quite self-aware” and as we explored the subject, I found I was already doing most of the things CBT trains you to do. Anxiety runs in our family, and I’m a researcher at heart, so of course when I started having panic and anxiety attacks my immediate response was to hit the ol’ Google and figure out what you’re supposed to do about it. I didn’t want to end up like my mom, who has such severe agoraphobia that she can barely drive within our county. I learned these skills from others who came before me, but back then I didn’t have a name to put to them.

Anyway, the point is, CBT didn’t help me and I doubted DBT was going to be all that different. But I was in such a dire state at that time, and my therapist was willing to write me out of work for a whole month to attend a group class on it, so I took him up on that purely because I needed the rest. He wrote me out of work to attend two groups: an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) and DBT.

IOP is more focused on people who are considered a danger to themselves or others. It’s sort of your last stop before your therapist recommends you check into a clinic. That group was only a month long, and while I was glad to get some rest outside of the class, I didn’t feel like I got as much from the class itself as I did from the regular one-on-one sessions with the therapist, but it was better than seeing somebody only every one to two months since Kaiser Permanente insists on understaffing their mental health workforce. By the end, I was still pretty scared to go back to work. My therapist told me that if things went poorly, I could always come back and we’d figure something else out. In the meantime, he wrote me off work for Thursdays so I could continue to attend DBT and a Trauma Skills group.

DBT saved my life, and that isn’t an overstatement. It improved my conditions at home and at work, it improved my relationships with friends and family, and it made me feel more secure about myself. Most importantly, it stopped me from feeling like I wanted to walk out in front of a bus.

So what the hell is DBT, and why is it so effective?

DBT is not a single skill, but rather a collection of strategies aimed at training your brain to respond differently to the stimuli that typically cause us stress. And no, it’s not toxic positivity–that was the first thing I assumed when somebody described it to me. It’s the closest we’ll ever get in my lifetime to ‘hacking’ your brain by taking advantage of the way your nervous system already works.

As with any therapy technique, you have to be open to it for it to work. It also requires a lot of practice, which is the hardest part. Those of us with trauma have unconsciously been trained to respond in certain ways to avoid or cope with danger, and we have been unknowingly reinforcing that training our entire lives. DBT helps us recognize the unhealthy responses, examine them in detail, confront the facts, and reprogram ourselves for a different response.

I can’t possibly address every skill that DBT teaches in one post, so I’ll try to do some follow-up articles on the individual sections later. For now, I’ve attached a DBT cheat sheet from DBTSelfHelp.com, which is another great resource if you’re trying to learn more about the subject.

I can talk about what helped me. CBT and DBT do have a little bit of overlap, so I did find that there were a few things I was already doing to manage my anxiety and depression. However, I also discovered more effective ways to do those things and some new skills that I hadn’t thought of.

It also helped me to attend in a group setting more than I thought it would. They did a daily check-in, and this was mostly optional. I attended remotely via MS Teams and we were allowed to type out our check-in or speak on mic. Having your video turned on was also optional, and I found that when a person’s camera turned on, more people felt comfortable sharing their own screens. We wanted to be seen and heard. At least 80% of the class on any given day was dedicated to the check-ins, giving people an opportunity to speak about their feelings, how they were coping, and what was going on in their lives (while avoiding triggering subjects; that’s saved for the one-on-one sessions).

Being the vain little creature that I am, I relished the attention and was praised a lot for my participation–so much so that it was noted on my after-visit summaries. It’s no secret to me that I like the sound of my own voice, but I also love listening to other people. People from all walks of life come to the group. These people all lived within 15 miles of me, so we had a lot more in common than I considered we might. I learned a bunch of good strategies from people who had made the skills work for them.

The skill that helped me the most is ironically the hardest to learn: radical acceptance. First, radical acceptance is NOT just accepting that bad things are going to happen and there's nothing you can do to stop them. Radical acceptance IS accepting that bad things might happen, but that they also might not, or that they may not be as bad as we assume they will be.

A day or so ago, I wrote a (now deleted) journal entry on Tumblr about how I was starting to feel nervous about returning to work after my surgery. It was mostly a vent for the dark cloud that was hanging over my head, and upon reviewing it, I didn’t think it would be very encouraging for others to read, which is why I removed it. It wasn’t a credit to my blog. This article is what I’m writing in its place, but I did have a good nugget in it about how radical acceptance can break us out of our feedback loops by dispelling “fortune-telling” patterns and re-subjecting ourselves to past trauma over and over again.

I was burned out and exhausted by my commute and my overperformance at my job, which was causing me to miss work and fall asleep at my desk often when I did go in, and my supervisor would constantly wake me and call me in to tell me I couldn’t do that. As a member of the working poor, I felt pretty confident about the path I was on. I thought it would go a little something like this:

I still think all that is possible, but I also feel better equipped to deal with that possibility and the fear it inspires than I did before DBT because I‘ve accepted that this path is not absolute. Anything can change, and fixating on that one possibility wasn’t helping me prepare or solve the problem. If anything, it was just making things worse. When I accepted that it may or may not happen, I also accepted that either way it was too soon for me to worry about it.

I’m pretty privileged. I have a union job with my local government, and to the horror of business owners everywhere, my employers can’t simply fire me for falling asleep on the job. They’re obligated as a part of our contract to work with me on adjusting my work and position to consider my health, and my conditions are well documented. Even if I lost my job, I have friends and family that would lend me support, even if all they could offer was leftover food and a driveway to park my car and sleep in. I live in a half-rural, half-suburb with a relatively low violent crime rate and police presence. I have a $10k deferred compensation account, and I get to withdraw all of those funds (subject to taxes, unfortunately) at the time my employment is terminated.

Part of radical acceptance is accepting the facts, and the fact is that I have it pretty good even when I’m suffering. I’ve been through some shit I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but that stuff isn’t happening to me right now. It’s behind me and I don’t have to keep revisiting it and tormenting myself. It’s not a predictor of my future.

Of course, just because you’ve learned the skills doesn’t mean you’re done and cured. Like anything else, these skills require practice to become internalized. I shared the cheat sheet with a good friend of mine and asked her if she would help me practice the skills in a low-stakes environment so that I could condition myself to use them in a high-stakes situation. This sometimes took the form of role-playing, sometimes flash cards, and sometimes just reminding me of what skills to use when I started feeling or thinking a certain type of way. This is a great strategy because it also teaches other people about DBT. You don’t have to be mentally ill to benefit from learning these skills.

That’s all I’ve got for today, but I’m going to try to write some posts later on the subsections of DBT in a bit more depth. Please, if you have never tried or even heard of DBT, look it up. Tell your friends and family about it. Watch Youtube videos about it. Share your own coping strategies with others. No one is an island, and we’re all in this together. The only way we thrive is together. 💖

[proof0fexistence]

"Everyone has their vices"

How to determine if you're going through a difficult time:

Stop all your medications against your therapist's advice, since the last one you tried made you want to kill yourself.

End your first relationship, during which you spent 80% of your free time with that person exclusively. Proceed to have limited close friendships.

Overbook your schedule with 3 jobs, 2 time-consuming clubs, difficult classes, and a new honor society that makes you feel shiny, but will take up so much of your time. Attempt to make new friendships, while never seeing your truly close friends, your roommates.

Spend 3-weeks in your hometown. This forces you to slow down, put a halt to the momentum. You may actually being to realize that you're struggling. You may actually reach out to loved ones, have meaningful conversations about the support you need, or at least reach an understanding about how you're not perfect, and, hey, maybe you don't need to be.

As soon as you consider getting back on medication, hop on a plane to Italy. You're going abroad for 8 weeks with people you don't know, in a place where you don't know the language, doing a project that you don't enjoy.

You don't stop being sad in Europe. I learned this the hard way. I am learning* this the hard way. Venice is mystical -- I continue to get lost in the narrow passageways and romantic bridges that divide the city into fractiles. And, it's not a home. I think even if I was happy, it feels offputting. There are no trees or grass in any real sense, and the resulting air quality has irritated my lungs. The canal water is murky, and often smells of sewage or fish. The people are, well, non-existent. That's not true. It was charmingly/eerily quiet prior to Carnival, which is when all hell broke loose. Those skinny walkways became bloated with people in puffer jackets and backpacks and masks. It would probably be fun in a lot of different circumstances. If, for example, I had ever intended on traveling here. But, of course, this location was not my choice. It never was. The place where I was supposed to go, deemed (rightfully) too unsafe to travel to by my university, was also not where I wanted to go, but at least I had prepared myself for it. I set the expectations, and I was disappointed by the change in plan. This all manifests itself as ungrateful, I'm aware of that. I am lucky to have this experience, and I have had a lot of laughs, and made good friends while here, but it still does not discount the sour emotions which have bubbled to the surface.

I won't bore you with the details, but I feel like I didn't know the extent to which I could hate myself before coming on this trip. I can't do anything right, according to myself. The self-hatred feeds the anxiety, which prevents me from doing what I want to do or say or act how I want, which feeds the depression. It's a positive feedback loop of negativity.

I tried to do a lot before telling my parents. I know that they would never be mad at me for being upset, they've dealt with troubled children before. But they worry about me, and I never really give them enough to show them not to worry about me, texts and phone calls are few and far between. But I hit a wall when I was traveling, we went to Bologna. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. I wasted money on train I didn't take, our plans kept falling through, I kissed a girl at the club which made the two guys I was with go strangely quiet on the ride home. I felt like my nerves were shot. We woke up that Sunday morning at 5:30 to catch a bus and then a train and then another bus (when they say it's easy to travel in Europe, they're lying) to the Ferrari Museum, which I honestly had no interest in going to. So, we boarded that bus, with the dredges of clubgoers returning home, and I just sobbed. I took a train back to Venice, and called my parents to tell them everything I've been feeling.

Self-medication. That was my mother's recommendation to me. "Go find some weed, someone there has to sell it. If you can't find that, at least wine is cheap there." I took it to heart. I went out, I bought some weed, and for a week straight, I prescribed myself 2 long drags from an overfilled blunt of the terrace outside my room. Did it help? Of course not, but it numbed things a little bit.

And then, of course, there's the alcohol. I took that advice a little too seriously, unfortunately. Never in my life have I blacked out more frequently than I have here. I will go out buzzed, get to the bar, have a drink or two, and the night will have escaped me. I wake up in the morning still in my clothes from the night before, lights on, and with the cash in my pocket from the night before replaced with a pounding headache. We decided to go clubbing all night a few weekends back, because, when in Rome, I guess. I remember the bus ride there, the walk from the bus station, getting in the doors and getting my free drink that came with my ticket, and then that's it! The entire night, 11PM-5AM, gone from my memory. The people I was with remember it all too well. I apparently went behind the VIP bar to steal pineapple and candies, too 50+ flash photos on my digital camera, and kept running away from them (they told me this in good spirits, thank god). I think I just need to escape sometimes, and that's how my mind is choosing to do it.

Brynne said that she'll go through phases where she's just out of it and that's why she blacks out so often (not scientifically proven, I checked). I guess I'm just in one of those stages in life. The economy of my health is up and down, it's not managed by trends in the market. Maybe if it was, I'd have predicted such an intense downturn.

[shoutaaizawas]

Scenario; Aizawa stops a villain when a civilian interviens and gives him an opening. When asked why they did that, they admit they dont care if they live or die these days

↳ aizawa shouta x reader → ❝numb❞

summary: you've been depressed lately and jump in to help a hero who's fighting a villain word count: 1.3k+  tags/warnings: first meetings, angst, tw depression, tw talks of suicide a/n: thank you for the request! i deal with depression so this is something i understand. if you're dealing with depression remember that it does get better and seek out the help that you need.

masterlist

It had been a boring day. These days it felt like you were just going through the motions more than anything else. You felt numb, so many things had gone wrong for you lately. Some days it felt like you were just barely hanging on. You just wanted to sleep forever.

When a villain started destroying the street you were on you took cover. It didn’t take long for a hero to show up, you didn’t recognize the black-haired man. He was good but you could tell he was struggling to get the advantage over the villain.

It didn’t take much convincing yourself, you saw an opening. If you could distract the villain then maybe the hero could have just a second to get the upper hand. It was stupid, reckless at best but what did you have to lose?

You grabbed the piece of rubble next to you before rushing out into the open. Throwing the rubble it hit the villain square in the face. His focus turned to you and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

As he moved towards you the hero took the opening his long scarf wrapping around him before he could get to you. In an instant he had him incapacitated. The hero now looked at you as he tied the villain up.

“What was that?” His tone was stern. His voice was deep and commanding.

“I-” You tried to speak but you didn’t know what to say, not that he was going to give you a chance.

“You could have died!” He said walking closer to you, now it was apparent how imposing he was as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Do you know how dangerous that was?”

“I’m sorry, you just didn’t have an opening.” You said.

“You’re a civilian, I’m a hero. It’s my problem, not yours.” His voice was intense, you wondered how often he scolded people. It seemed like he had practice.

“It’s just, I don’t really care if anything happens to me.” You said quietly. The hero stopped, his anger fading. He looked at you, really looked at you now.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.” He said, his voice soft now. His hand met your shoulder, the warmth there was nice.

“It’s okay, it was stupid.” You admitted.

“Do you want to get coffee?” He asked. He almost looked shocked by his offer, like he didn’t expect it to come out of his mouth.

“I’m sure you’re busy.” You said you didn’t want a pity invite just because he could sense what was wrong with you.

“I have time, I could use the caffeine.” He said, despite his offer seeming to catch him off guard now he looked sure of the offer.

“Okay.”

That’s how you found yourself in a small cafe you had never noticed with a pro hero that you didn’t even know the name of. He had asked you what you wanted then asked you to pick a table. You found a seat by the window. After a few moments, he returned with two drinks in his hands.

“I don’t even know your name.” You said.

“Aizawa Shouta.” He said scooting your coffee over. “Eraserhead is my hero name.”

“I’ve never heard of you before.” You said.

“I’m not exactly high in the ranks.” He said. “I teach at U.A. and usually patrol at night.”

“Oh, you’re a teacher.” The realization hit you. “That makes sense, you’re very good at scolding.” You pitied the children he taught. Aizawa laughed, it was a nice sound that stirred something in your chest.

“I have a lot of practice.” He said. “They are a troublesome class but they have a lot of potential.”

“I’m sure it’s not easy training heroes.” You couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be to teach someone how to save lives.

“It isn’t but it’s very rewarding.” He said.

There was a pause and you knew what he was thinking. He wanted to ask but how do you ask someone in a nice way.

“I swear I’m not suicidal.” You said looking out the window at the people passing by. “I’m just going through something. I don’t know what it is.”

Aizawa stared at you, even not looking you could feel his gaze on you.

“Like you don’t want to kill yourself but you don’t want to keep going either.” He said. You looked back at him. His eyes were so warm, they pulled you in with the softness in them.

“Yeah.” You admitted.

“I felt like that for a long time.” He said. “Sometimes it comes back, even when I thought it had been gone so long that I was free of it.”

The last thing you expected from today was a hero opening up to you about stuff that was hard to even tell your family.

“Sometimes there’s a reason, too many bad things at once, too much stress. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere.” He said. “It feels endless, makes you wonder if you’ve ever been happy. You don’t enjoy anything, you want your day to end just so you have another day that you want to end. It makes you just want to go to sleep and never wake up again.”

“Yeah.” You said. “That’s exactly how it feels.”

“There’s ways to get help. There are things you can do on your own, exercise, eat better, look for things that make you happy, and talk to someone you trust. Change your routine.” He explained. “Then there’s seeing a doctor, they can prescribe you something or refer you to a professional that can help you sort through things.”

“Thank you,” You said. “For everything. It’s nice knowing that I’m not the only one who feels like this.”

“You will get better, I promise you that.” He said, reaching out to take your hand that sat on the table. “It doesn’t mean things will always be good but it doesn’t mean that things will stay bad either.”

“Thank you.” You said, the gesture shocked you but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you liked it more than you wanted to admit.

“If you ever want to talk, you can talk to me.” He said taking out a pen and writing his number on a napkin.

“Thank you, seriously.” You said. “I can’t say it enough.”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad it could help. I know it won’t take away anything but I hope it can be some sort of comfort.” He said.

“It does.” You said. “And maybe sometime we could get dinner and have a more light-hearted conversation.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best time to shoot your shot with a hero who just had a conversation with you about your depression but he had recommended you change your routine. He looked caught off guard for a moment but he quickly recovered.

“That would be nice.” He said with a smile. That was a smile you wouldn’t mind seeing more of.

The two of you finished your coffee and he walked out of the cafe with you.

“Thursday night.” He said as you stood there looking at each other. “Are you free?”

“Yeah, I am.” You replied.

“I know a place, ramen. It’s the best in the city.” He said. “We could go.”

“I would like that.” You said with a smile.

“Thursday then.” You said.

Aizawa nodded, it was odd to see him look bashful. You were sure it was a rare occurrence for the man. It made your chest stir the thought of being able to fluster someone like him. A thought popped into your head.

Before you could chicken out you leaned up pressing your lips against his cheek.

“I’ll see you there.” You said, trying to hide your smirk at the red that blossomed on his cheeks.

Today was weird, to say the least. You almost got attacked by a villain, you met a hero that had been through the same thing you were facing, and you asked out said, hero. The craziest part was he said yes.

You knew that your date with this hero wasn’t going to solve any of your problems but you got the feeling that Aizawa’s presence in your life would bring something you needed.

[illumilu]

there’s only one bed” - illumi zoldyck x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? cringe makes the world go round. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this way too long again, but who cares?? this time it’s with illumi! aka loml ...

summary: after a lengthy car trip, you arrive at the hotel with illumi, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. including: you dreaming abt him when he’s literally right in front of you (embarrassing). this is part two of a three-part series, with the adultrio. hisoka is already written and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! only on your part though, since illumi is basically awkwardness personified... no nsfw <3

illumi zoldyck:

- the trip to the hotel had taken 6 hours. 6 hours in which you had fallen asleep multiple times, cramped your legs, somehow made every sleeping position dangerously uncomfortable, cracked your neck and twisted your back, possibly to the point of no return.

- for mr zoldyck, or rather, “illumi”, as he had instructed you to call him, the trip was no problem. his upbringing, which consisted of mainly torture, included staying awake for as long as a fortnight at a time. 6 hours may as well have been a few minutes. 

- “the silent son of the zoldycks” was his reputational nickname, or, rather, “lifeless koi fish”, as your friend, hisoka, enjoyed calling him. either way, illumi was not going to let a car ride tire him.

- when you had first met him, he had scared you. a lot. the entire “trained dangerous traumatised assassin” storyline was one that felt like a threat. you were undoubtedly taking a risk by working with him, but it was one you were willing to; it may have been twisted, but murder was your forte, and you were searching for a partner.

- over time, you had grown to be less intimidated by him.

- you were now colleagues with him, working on a new assassination.

- shockingly, planning murder took time, and who better to plan it with than the assassin himself? you had spent the past day on a “business trip”, paid for by illumi’s grandfather, where you sized up the area and familiarised yourself with yorknew.

- all for the big night.

- tonight was the day before the murder of the ten dons.

- illumi and kalluto would carry out the murder, while you made sure everything went smoothly, via a small mic attached to his clothes. the entire operation was based on trust, and would therefore be executed like clockwork.

- you had taken the necessary mental images and kept the targets in mind; all that was left was a night at a pre-booked hotel and then it would be go-time.

- you had assumed that the hotel would be high-class, with doormen, perhaps some marble flooring and pillars - it was the zoldycks who were paying, after all, and you knew they had money to spare. 

- “we’re here.” illumi stated blankly, face reflecting in the window. admittedly, he did look a little bit like a koi fish.

- you nudged past him to look out of the window, leaning over to get a good view.

- oh.

- it seemed you had made quite the overestimation. it was a simple, plain building with a few stories. no doormen or extravagance could be sighted.

- you supposed keeping a low profile was important, but the depressing accommodation was somehow making you wearier.

- the two of you didn’t exchange any conversation on the way up to your room, but you were used to that. 

- you and illumi had met around 5 months ago, and most of it had been comfortable silence. you hadn’t expected it to be like that - in all honesty, you had expected him to kill you - but illumi seemed... calm around you. 

- it was probably because you shared such an odd passion with him; the logistics of murder. you assumed it gave him a chance to loosen his harsh demeanour and enjoy himself. the both of you had worked on multiple murders together, focusing on theory and planning, but this was a huge assassination. nevertheless, you knew he could pull it off; illumi was smart, you had to give him that.

- finally, you arrived at your hotel room, sighing from the lengthy stairway winding up to your unnecessarily high room. you assumed it was for safety purposes, but for god’s sake; why did safety have to be so enervating?

- illumi pushed the door open, and you walked in with him. finally, you could catch some rest.

- except, you couldn’t. 

- a singular bed placed in the middle of the room.

- “why.” you thought to yourself tiredly. 

- you stood there silently, waiting for him to say something. 

- then, you remembered that he was illumi. he obviously wouldn’t see anything wrong with the situation. 

- the bastard.

- it didn’t help that he gave you no visible reaction when you stared at him with your face scrunched up expectantly, as if to ask what his plan was.

- “is there a problem, y/n?” illumi asked, his tone flat as usual.

- you took a deep, worn out breath, clearing your throat.

- after a bit, you shook your head. this was strictly professional. illumi wouldn’t do anything, because he was illumi. nothing would happen.this was an important night, where rest and a clear mind were essential. blame it on the fatigue, and nothing else. you were just exhausted. there was nothing else to it. nothing.

- “no. i’m just a little tired.” you dismissed.

- a silence skimmed past.

- “my grandfather... he often tends to be absentminded. occasionally, he forgets to do certain things, or plan them correctly, i suppose. you could say this is a prime example of such.”

- “zeno forgot another goddamn bed, hm?” you laughed nervously.

- illumi stared at you once again, blinking a few times, in a methodical manner, face neutral and robotic. you smiled awkwardly and remembered that he was not one to laugh at jokes. or anything, for that matter. 

- you wondered if he laughed at bloodshed. or maybe hisoka.

- “i’m going to... go to set up my stuff now.” 

- turning your back to illumi, you winced at the uncomfortable air. even after all your time with him, you never learnt to stop trying to lighten the mood. the mood was literally just always unnatural, in some way. that was another one of illumi’s specialties.

- after some time, in which you had finalized tomorrow's plan and each changed into comfortable clothes, you watched illumi tie his hair up from across the room. 

- his hair had always fascinated you. 

- you had always wanted to touch it. honestly, even when you had first met him, apart from his magnetic eyes, you had been drawn to his hair. you imagined it felt like silk sheets, caressing over one’s hands as smoothly as honey. you were glad he grew it out; in fact, upon seeing his teenage photos, you had laughed so hard you ended up getting a nosebleed from hitting your face. illumi had been left in confusion for a while.

- you realized how random you sounded. why were you reminiscing so much? 

- shaking yourself back to your senses, you admired as he artfully twisted his hair into a loose bun, strands of hair cupping his elegant, pale face.

- what a beautiful koi fish.

- most people couldn’t compute that illumi had true, human feelings. after all, it would be hard to believe a man like him felt anything. but, of course, he did, unhealthily so. he channeled all his trauma and hurt into his villainy, and received happiness from his villainy, anger from his villainy and occasionally fear from his villainy.  however, there was one emotion he could never grasp. he hated himself for it, but soon realised he could manipulate his hatred into villainy, too.

- illumi was a man who could manipulate anyone or anything he wished. 

- except himself.

- internally, he had always felt at a loss whenever he confronted his emotions. but, after he had met you, something had changed. as he caught you staring at his hair through the hotel mirror, he couldn’t help but feel something small stir inside of his stomach. not evil, not happiness, not hatred, not anger. perhaps, friendship?

- this tinge of new emotion inside of him initially made him feel uneasy, but that worry morphed into giddiness, a childish high buzzing somewhere in his core.

- eventually, he stood up to face you and suggested going to sleep. you checked the time on the wall clock. 8 in the evening. well, illumi had always been particular. you agreed that rest was essential for tomorrow.

- you hesitantly took the left side, and, upon seeing your choice, illumi followed to lie on the right.

- after a few minutes, you looked back at him, noticing illumi fell asleep abnormally quickly. you furrowed your brow quizzically at the rock-like manner he was in. frankly, he looked like a plank when he slept. you almost laughed, but held it in for his sake. 

- he had a very specific sleep schedule, as did the other zoldycks. he could go to sleep immediately at his own command, and stayed perfectly still as he did so. he woke up at 5 in the morning every single day, without fail, almost like he had some sort of alarm clock planted in his body. 

- looking at him lying there like a block, you smiled softly. illumi was quite the conundrum to you. you often speculated whether he ever got what he deserved; love, affection, anything really. you knew about his past from when he had told you nonchalantly, within a few weeks of your acquaintance. you always hoped he’d find someone to love him, but doubted whether people would bother looking beyond his bleak surface, and into his excellent mind. lost in thought, you found yourself getting drowsier. you also fell asleep generally quickly, limbs aching from the stupid car ride.

- the night passed.

- illumi was the first to wake up at 5am, stoic and in the same place he had fallen asleep in. no surprise there.

- but you. 

- that was the first thing he saw when his eyes opened.

- he did not expect you to be lying on him lazily, snuggling into his body, arm and leg comfortably wrapped around his side. you were breathing lightly, face burrowing onto the ridge of his chest.

- i suppose you didn’t expect to be there either, which he realized, but the point still remained.

- why were on you his chest.

- “y/n.”

- no answer.

- illumi could have pushed you away; in fact, he could have blown you 983 metres away (his personal record). 

- but he didn’t.

- it wasn’t the thought of disturbing your comfort that stopped illumi from hurling you into oblivion. it wasn’t the fact that he explicitly enjoyed it, either. he remembered that the mission was today; if he were to wake you, and you hadn’t slept enough, you wouldn’t be at your upmost performance.

- the murder of the ten dons was his priority, right? yes. it was. there was no doubt about it. that was the only and final reason he wouldn’t wake you. end of discussion. 

- so, illumi stayed there, waiting for you to wake up and get off of him. 30 minutes passed, and he watched you for every single one.

- hard as it was to admit, watching you rise and fall in sync with his chest made the spark of emotion in his core grow fervently. what had that foreign feeling been? yesterday, he had settled at friendship, but now he wasn’t so sure.

- you looked so peaceful while you slept. less confusing. he remembered the time you had accidentally complimented his hair when the two of you had first met. he had found that amusing. he remembered the time you got a nosebleed from hitting your face too hard - it was after laughing at his teenage pictures, which perplexed him greatly. he remembered the times you two had sat together, working and theorizing on missions, accidentally meeting eyes or brushing hands. one time, you had dipped one of his pins in ink and scratched his name on some paper “for fun”. you had handed it to him and, for some unknown reason, the scrap was still tucked safely in his wallet. your unrivaled intelligence, your idiotic sense of humour, your smile, your lack of common sense, your twinkling eyes that so ironically contrasted his, everything. everything crossed his mind while he lay there.

- illumi found it strange how people remembered the oddest things at the oddest times. 

- why did he think of that now, as you were sleeping? even worse, on the day of a meticulously planned assassination. why couldn’t he manipulate his emotions to stop fluctuating around you so much?

- it all frustrated him.

- why had he let you call him by “illumi” so quickly? mr zoldyck would have been fine. and why had he been so lenient with your antics? no one else got to touch his pins. why did he feel like keeping you on his chest forever, and keeping you safe? most importantly, why was he thinking about you so much?

- his contemplation came to a halt when he heard you stir a little in your sleep.

-  finally, you’d wake up and he could forget about this entire problem.

- he watched you, expecting you to get up soon.

- you began shuffling around, brushing against his chest, and soon your eyes fluttered open, hazy and glazed over. it almost seemed like you were still in a dream, in some sort of half-sleep.

- “huh?” you whispered quietly, still lying on illumi. you looked up lazily, meeting eyes with him.

- “oh... i get it...” you hummed quietly, falling back onto his chest.

- he furrowed his brows.

- “why are you here?” you hugged him from the side, softly laughing at your ridiculous dream. he tensed up at you embracing him, but soon relaxed after realizing what was going on.

- illumi looked at you, one eyebrow raised. did you... think you were dreaming?

- to be honest, he found it kind of entertaining, the way you were fawning over him. if he let you stay there, he could figure out a lot of things about his newly found emotion. it could be worth it. just not today.

- illumi came back to his senses fairly quickly; you were obviously awake now, so why couldn’t you get off of him already?

- “y/n.”

- “mmm? what? so serious all the damn timeee, illum-” 

- “you aren’t dreaming. get off.”

- SHIT

- SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

- you jolted off him immediately, staring down at illumi zoldyck. 

- the real illumi zoldyck.

- oh my god what. what. what. what.

- every nerve in your body began to panic, and, in the stress of trying to find the correct words to say, you just ended up making some sort of incomputable “aaaahhh” noise and jumping off the bed.

-  illumi had finally gotten up and was now staring concernedly at you.

- an awkward pause.

- “let me just start by saying i did not-”

- “y/n. we have more pressing priorities for today. i don’t care.”

- illumi zoldyck had lied. even to himself. he did care. and so what if he ignored it until it festered so intensely inside of him he couldn’t do anything but tell you? he cared about you. and he knew it.

- “ok. you’re right. you’re right! illumi. one question. was i like that the whole night?”

- “i don’t know. i woke up at 5 and you were there.”

- you looked at the clock. it was 6am? what had he been doing for an hour? you opened your mouth to ask but closed it soon after. you recalled your thoughts about illumi growing up void of affection, or love, or appreciation. 

- some questions were best left unanswered.

- “how long was i... mumbling like that?”

- “a few minutes.”

- you gulped. there were a few things you had to come to terms with. shutting your eyes firmly, you apologised profusely, annoyed at yourself.

- “y/n. i don’t care.” he lied once again.

- “you’re right!” you rambled - “the ten dons are today! it doesn’t matter what i said... none of it matters, we can both just forget it!”

- you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone.

- “so all we need to do is go over the plan one last time, get kalluto, and then we’ll carry it out, and soon enou-”

- “stop it. you’re wasting time. just go and get ready.”

- you sighed and smiled weakly. on the inside, you were sure your soul had died a little.

- while you left to change, overcome by embarrassment, illumi lingered by the bed for a few seconds. he tried to push down whatever he was currently feeling, but it was no use. the feeling in his core had risen up to his throat, a burst of something waiting to leave his lips. 

- for the first time in a while, illumi zoldyck smiled. not at murder, or at power, or fulfillment, or achievement, or even villainy.

- illumi zoldyck had smiled at the thought of you.

- let’s just say illumi had trouble focusing on his mission. 

i am honestly so fucking sorry you had to read that whole thing. the way i am literally in love with illumi zoldyck and ended up writing 2857 words bye bye bye i’m so sorry!!! PLZ what?? anyways,, i feel like i heavily underwrote hisoka now, since i did such a prologue thing for this! honestly i feel like this one came out a little boring, im sorry again AAAAA just agh; chrollo should b coming when i have time but i have exams rn so idkkkk hh

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

[hizashiiis]

Bakusquad + “Why are you awake” Part Two

PART ONE HERE

So here’s part two! Fun fact, the song Jirou plays you in her part is actually a song I wrote! I didn’t include any of the lyrics though because its lowkey really cheesy :/

I hope you like this! This one is for Sero, Mina, and Jirou.

Warnings: insomnia, depression kinda

Sero Hanta

- Sero is very much a hypocrite when it comes to getting enough sleep

- He’s constantly up at all hours, even sending you random texts if he can’t sleep

- But when you aren’t going to bed at a normal time?

- He’s so sad

- He looks like you kicked his puppy and then him in rapid succession. 

- It’s crazy because he seems to just instinctively know when you’re awake

- Like he bolts up in his bed all, “they ain’t in bed. I’m abt to beat some ass.”

- He’s never sure if he’s right though, so he texts you a meme he made specifically for you being up too late

- It’s probably really cheesy and outdated, but the effort is there

- If you respond to it (because you will) he knocks on the wall between your dorms and talks to you 

- Often, you both just stay up like that

Sero’s body is awake before his mind, moving him to sit up in bed before he can think. He was having a really intense dream; something about talking mice. He didn’t mind it, but he woke up as if he’d had a nightmare. 

Faintly, from the wall beside him, he can hear low music playing, but he can’t make out what song it is. It’s coming from your room, though, so he’s concerned. 

The sky outside is dark, clouds drifting across his windowed view of the moon. It must be pretty late; all the noise is gone, leaving nothing but static air, and the music. He leans over his bed to look at the time on his phone. It’s around 2 am. The song you’re playing ends, and he recognizes the next one. It’s on your sad playlist. 

He sends you the meme, as well as an invitation for a hug as soon as it’s morning. You respond almost instantly, assuring him that you’re fine, you just couldn’t sleep. But he knows you better than that. 

Knocking on the wall between you, he hears the music stop suddenly. He calls out to your wall. 

“Mi amor? What’s keeping you awake?” He’s met with silence for a moment before your shaky voice responds.

“I’m okay. I just kinda got hit with some sad, y’know?” He does know. He knows that this happens sometimes. It happens to him, too. But he hates hearing your voice sound so lost. You almost sound hopeless, and he can’t bear it. 

“I understand.” He places his hand up to the wall, wishing he could hold you. Unfortunately, you had both been told off by Iida for sleeping in each other’s rooms more than enough times lately, so he couldn’t just go see you. He opts instead for hugging a stuffed giraffe you had gotten him after the Sports Festival. 

“Do you want me to distract you, or do you want to talk about it?” He asks, stroking the giraffe’s head as if it’s your hair, not knowing that on the other side of the wall, you’re holding a stuffed lion the same way. 

“Distract me?” Your voice comes out only just loud enough for him to hear you, but he understands. He begins to tell you a story. He’s told it before. It’s about a great hero, one who fights crime valiantly, and his partner, also a fantastic hero. He ad-libs parts of it, making pretend villains say silly slogans, and recounting how the heroes save the day. 

As he reaches the end, he hears you giggle a bit. “Oh? Did it work? Are you smiling over there, my sweet?” He calls to you, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“A little bit.” You respond, playing with your stuffed animal. “If you keep talking, maybe I’ll even smile more.”

He laughs, eyes bleary with sleep, but happy to talk to you the whole night.

Mina Ashido

- Honestly, she’s no better than you about staying awake

- She tries to sleep, but her thoughts are always racing

- Sometimes it’s thoughts of you, sometimes of new things she wants to try in training, or things she wants to see if she can convince her friends to do

- But she wants you to get adequate rest, even if it’s hard for her to do the same

- She used to get told off for sneaking to your room every night, but then Momo and Iida saw how much better you were performing in school on the days after she’d been there, and they started letting it slide

- It’s nicer for her, too, because she has someone to ramble to as the two of you fall asleep

Mina skipped down the hallway toward your room. It was a bit past midnight, and usually, you would be asleep by this time. It was well past lights out, and classes had run long that day, not to mention the endless exams that were happening at UA right now. So when she reached your door, she was surprised to find you watching a movie on your phone instead of snoring. 

“Hey bug! Why are you still up, don’t you know what time it is?” She says, throwing a grin your way as she puts her blanket down next to you. 

You shrug, yawning. “I could ask you the same thing, love.” She pouts at that, tossing her arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.

She watches you watching your show for a few minutes before saying anything. It looks good, she supposes, but she has a better idea of what to watch. “Scoot over.” She pushes you lightly, giggling as you scrunch to the side to give her more room. “Do you wanna watch something with me?” She asks, holding up her phone. 

You look at her for a moment. “That is what we are currently doing, is it not?” You hold up your phone in return, showing her the paused screen. 

“But I have a better movie!” She insists, unlocking her screen and shoving it above yours so that you can see her pick. She’s right, it is a better movie. You guys have watched the entire Studio Ghibli filmography, but even you know that her favorite, “When Marnie was There,” is the better option at this particular moment. 

You toss your phone to the side, pulling her in to lay next to you. “Fair enough, bubs, I guess yours is better.” You feign reluctance, watching her excitedly press play and tuck the blanket in around the both of you. Her arm curls tighter around your shoulders, and she giggles as the opening credits start. 

“Hey Minari?” You use her favorite nickname, looking at her through hooded, sleepy eyes. She hums in response. “Why is this one your favorite?”

Hearing the question, she pauses the movie, turning to look right at you. She’s quiet for a moment, thinking about her answer. “I guess because they remind me of us! Like I’m Marnie, and you’re Anna, and we’re having this great adventure together!” You feel your face heat at her words, thinking about the movie more critically now. Mina continues, “It’s like…” she pauses, finding the right words. “Like Anna is learning how her friendship with Marnie can make her feel more right, as a person. And I feel like that about you!” 

You’re tearing up now, unsure how to respond. Mina is so many things, and being with you is that important to her? It’s a new feeling, but certainly a welcome one. You pull her down, giving her a kiss. And then another kiss. And one on her nose. 

“Press play, Mina.”

Kyoka Jirou

- Lol u think she sleeps?

- She does, but not at night

- Were it not for classes, Jirou would be essentially nocturnal

- So you try to remind her to go to sleep

- Sometimes you’ll walk past her dorm at night, and you hear her guitar, softly playing her favorite songs

- Before you got together, sometimes you would sit outside her door and listen to her play

- Not in a creepy way, there’s just a little common area right outside her room and you like took a book there, you weren’t like ooh it’s late i think i’ll sit outside someone’s room and listen to them

- You aren’t Mineta. 

- But anyway

- Now that you are together, Jirou thinks it’s really sweet that you listen to her play

- Sometimes she leaves her door cracked open so you can come in

It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and the light is on in Jirou’s room. You had come out to go to the bathroom, but you noticed her guitar, and decided to stay. The soft strumming is pretty, and you’re glad to be one of the few people allowed to hear it. 

Opening Jirou’s door just a bit more, you nod toward her desk chair in a silent question. She nods, so you go sit down. 

She’s playing a song you don’t recognize, and the lyrics are sad. Even still, it’s beautiful, and your eyes seem to naturally close, taking in the melody of her voice. She used to tell you her voice wasn’t anything special, but she seems content now to let you listen. 

The guitar resonates with the last few chords, and the ending note is held for three beats. When she’s finished, Jirou opens her eyes and looks at you, waiting for your thoughts.

“It was beautiful. Did you write that?” You ask her, your hands fidgeting with the urge to hold her own. She nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

You don’t acknowledge the sad theme of the song. She’s told you before that sometimes sad songs are easier than happy ones. That the melody is clearer. You don’t mind. All her songs are beautiful, and they reflect her in them, and isn’t that what makes a piece of art?

“I have another one, if you’d like to hear it?” She looks nervous; something you never see on her.

“I’d love to!” Your exclamation seems to snap her out of the anxiety in her eyes, which narrow a little. 

“Just…” She starts, looking away from you to adjust the capo on her instrument. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

Confused, you nod, and she starts playing. 

The song starts out with a few chords repeating in a loop, and then she begins to sing. The lyrics are confusing to you at first, and you still aren’t sure why she’s told you not to freak out. But then she gets to the chorus, and it begins to make more sense. 

Lyrics, in essence, are a poem, and this one is a love poem. Her thoughts, written out, are so sweet and loving, that you’re sure you don’t know what to think. She sings elegantly, like someone who’s never known how to dance, and yet is waltzing perfectly across a shining floor. 

She finishes the song with a declaration of loyalty, and you realize your eyes are watering. She looks at you, waiting for your thoughts. 

You say nothing. You don’t know how to say anything, so you stand, cross to her, and pull her into a hug. She’s not usually one for physical touch, but she holds you tightly. 

“It’s about me, right?” You laugh, leaving a kiss on her calloused fingers. She rolls her eyes. 

“Obviously.”

She smiles at you, pulling you to lay on her bed as she puts her guitar in its case, taking the capo off the strings. “You should sleep. It’s like, morning now.”

“You should too.” You retort, still holding her hand. 

“No.”

[angelguk]

→ pu$$y fairy — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut + college!au + jeongguk and oc are in a weird fwbs without the friendship part just the benefits except jaykay lowkey has feelings + virginity au

warnings: virgin!oc / blowjob / we talk about dicks for a bit / oc is strange / jaykay is confused / cum swallowing / first times / not really edited / mingyu the meddling best fwend

soundtrack: on the way, jhene aiko + hold on (slowed and reverb), the internet

Jeongguk doesn’t hate Mingyu. He truly doesn’t. He is one of his closest friends after all; he’d held him up after Jeongguk had dumped half a keg down his throat and his legs had promptly collapsed.  He’d also been a successful wingman for when Jeongguk was aiming to add Seolhyun to the list of girls he’d bagged, sent pictures of his organic chemistry notes when Jeongguk had missed more than half of the classes in high school and didn’t laugh at him when he was heart-broken over Sua and borderline depressed. He was a true friend; someone Jeongguk could rely on. It was a simple brother-like relationship that Jeongguk deeply treasured. So no, he could never hate Mingyu – but he could absolutely long to punch that insufferable asshole in the face.

He should have known this was going to go downhill exceptionally fast the moment you stumbled into his room, wide-eyed and nervous in your unsure steps. When his pants had hit the ground, the shock in your eyes was a dead giveaway to how messy this whole arrangement was going to be. The second clear sign was when you jumped out his window because the sight of his bare dick terrified you.

And this was all the result of Mingyu being a meddling shit who didn’t know when to mind his business.

He remembers it with a clarity that makes his shoulders tense, how Mingyu had snuck you into the conversation while twisting a soju bottle in his hands.

“Yo… JK…. You mind if I ask you a question?” He’d said. Jeongguk shrugged, focused on flipping the meat on the grill because he was starving and the prospect of cooked meat was a lot more appealing than feigning interest in a conversation. “Alright…," Mingyu took his silence as a cue to speak. “Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

He should have known then. He really should have known.

“I don’t know. I don’t ask any questions when I’m hard,” Jeongguk had replied, unknowing of the dangerous path this conversation was guiding him down.

“Yeah and most of the time you don’t fuck on an actual bed. I’m not even surprised you don’t ask questions.”

“Hey!” Jeongguk had swung the tongs around. “I ask important ones, like consent and making sure we’ve got a condom around. But virginity? Not my concern.”

“Seems a bit…. Whorish to me.”

“Not whorish. I just have my priorities elsewhere… Like cumming for example.”

Mingyu had sighed as he poured him a shot, the air leaving his lips heavy. “I shouldn’t even be asking you to be honest. You’re a decent guy but your kind of a dickhead when it comes to sex.”

“How does not pondering on virginity make me dickhead? Again, as I said, priorities are elsewhere.”

“Dude you’ve never even tried to have meaningful sex at least once in your life. When was the last time you were actually emotionally invested in the person you were sleeping with? Hmm?”

The answer was Sua and he knew that but Mingyu was decent enough to keep her name out of his mouth, the judging look in his eyes saying enough.

“You know… I don’t do well with the whole emotional thing. I prefer it physical. It’s less messy. But what does this even have to do with virginity?” Jeongguk hated to admit it but he was somewhat interested in where this conversation was going. If only he knew it was leading to a massive train wreck of the one thing, he steered clear from – emotions.

Mingyu had just sighed again, tipping the soju bottle into his shot glass once more. “There’s a girl who I’d like you to meet.”

He’d scoffed, mouth stuffed with a perilla leaf wrap. “You know I don’t do blind dates.”

“It’s not a blind date,” Mingyu had retorted, the glance he threw at his friend’s direction precarious. “She wants you to take her virginity.”

Jeongguk had choked. Of course, he had. Even if sex didn’t mean much to him, taking someone’s first time like that felt very transactional. And Jeongguk wasn’t that big of a dickhead. But then Mingyu had opened his mouth, spewing various details about your life to him that he would rather have not heard over a KBBQ lunch. You were a friend from one of his business lectures, rather eccentric but sweet and funny. You were also a virgin and terrified of approaching men on your own, one of the reasons Mingyu had sprung up this arrangement. Jeongguk wasn’t one to fall into things like this but it was too late. Mingyu was a marketing major for a reason, he knew how to spin words in his favour, convince people into agreeing to things that they normally would not. And that’s how Jeongguk found himself staring at your retreating figure after you’d thrown your body right out his window, landing hard on the lawn of the house he rented with Namjoon and Seokjin. The crazy thing was that you’d gotten up immediately, not showing any sign of a broken bone or injuries, before promptly sprinting down the road to the bus stop. He should have known then. He really should have known. And yet, here he is, pants discarded on the floor of his room and his dick aching from being unrelieved for longer than it’s ever been, while you crouch over him, squinting at his penis like it’s a foreign object that could kill you.

“Could you please stop staring at my penis like that.” He says it out of frustration, but also the way you’re examining his length makes him feel self-conscious in a way he hasn’t felt like in a long time.

“Sorry,” you murmur, not breaking eye contact with his dick. “I’m just… fascinated. It’s rather….” The sentence tapers out and you swallow hard as if it pains you to admit it, “...Ugly.”

Jeongguk decides then and there he hates you.

“I mean... It’s not that it’s ugly!” you swiftly attempt to amend, catching the glare he directs at you. “It’s also big!”

“I know. And you just said it was ugly,” Jeongguk retorts, weighing the options in his head. Either get a poor blowjob from a girl he’s terrified of (but also bizarrely attracted too) or kick you out of his room and finish himself off. The situation sucks either way but it’s better than the last time when you’d leapt out of the window like a gazelle.

“I misspoke,” you say, gently falling onto your knees. You flash him a shy smile, a soft delicate little thing that makes your eyes glitter and Jeongguk instantly picks the first option. “It’s just different to what I expected it to look like.”

He scoffs, swallowing hard on the sudden lump in his throat. “There’s no way you haven’t seen a dick before. You don’t watch porn?”

The grimace you make is enough of an answer. “I have… Not all the time though, it’s too much for me sometimes. Also, it’s weird seeing it in real life and not, like, through a screen.”

“Noted. But still, it’s not that ugly,” Jeongguk murmurs, trying not to compare his penis to the visuals he has in his head. His pride is wounded from that comment he won’t deny it.

“It kinda is,” you reply. Jeongguk flicks your forehead in retaliation. “Ow! Why’d you do that.” There’s that stupid pout in your lips as you glower at him. He despises how his dick twitches at the sudden thought of your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. Despises it even more when you gasp at the slight motion trembling through him. “It moves?!”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighs, wondering how on Earth you’re over the age of twenty and still like this. “It does. Also, don’t insult my dick. It’s rude.”

“Sorry again,” you pause as if you’re considering whether what you might utter next is offensive. You open your mouth anyway, unable to comprehend the fact that your words are slowly chipping away at his ego. “It’s kinda scary that it moves.”

“Oh my god, you are the literal worst.” Jeongguk thinks his boner might evaporate. It’s a miracle it’s lasted this long. You’d sauntered into his room around half an hour again and he’d been hard from the get-go. Truly amazing his balls hadn’t shrivelled up yet. “You know you’re about to blow me off right?”

“I know… I’m stupid,” you counter, eyebrows furrowing together like you’re attempting to figure out exactly how Jeongguk’s dick works. It’d be very simple if you just asked him. It’s essentially an up and down motion, some swirls, a lot of wetness. Nothing too difficult. But when you glance up at him, the innocent glaze over your eyes almost hopeless, he can tell it feels the same as defusing a bomb. “I just… Don’t know what to do. Show me?”

And there it is - the foolish little thing that landed Jeongguk here half-naked on the edge of his bed in the first place. Even though you were mildly repulsed by the male autonomy you were still so eager to learn. Something Jeongguk didn’t know he would be into until you posed that question and his balls tightened in a way they have never done before.

“Okay,” he mumbles, hoping you don’t suspect the twitch that runs through his length when you say that. Not like you would, to be fair.

But then you sweep your hair back, lean in fast, no preparation or anything before your breath is brushing against his crotch and Jeongguk nearly screams.

“Woah, woah, woah! I thought you just asked me to show you? What are you doing?” Maybe he scuttles further down the bed, terrified of the rush of heat you send straight to his gut.  

Your eyes flicker upward, bright and ingenuous. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re not -,” Jeongguk sighs breath weighing through the air. “You’re not doing it wrong. I just think... We should go slow right? It’s your first time? Maybe don’t rush into it?”

“I watched a YouTube video and they said to do it like that,” you reply. Jeongguk can’t help but blink at you, brain reeling from attempting to understand your being.

“You watched a - never mind. You’re giving me a headache. And I thought you knew nothing. Porn would have been a better research alternative but to each their own.”

“I did it for preparation! I didn't know it’d be this nerve-wracking in real life. And, I told you, real dicks are gross. She used a dildo.”

“How is a dildo any different to a real dick?” Jeongguk fingers dig into the mattress a little harder when you lean it once more, gingerly resting your head against his knee.

“It’s just different. Less grotesque. And they come in various colours.”

He might just actually scream. “It’s literally made to replicate a penis.”

You sigh, your breath skipping against his skin. The room is suddenly tight, closing in on him and you’re not even really touching him. And then you catch your lip between your teeth, pressing down with a quick thoughtful bite. “I think you’re deflecting right now.”

“I’m not,” he splutters. “Why would I even be deflecting right now?”

“I mean, we’re having a conversation about dildos when your dick is hard and I’m meant to be blowing you. Sounds like deflection doesn’t it?” He hates the way your eyes glitter, bright and captivating as your gaze locks into his.

“Like I said,” Jeongguk retorts, “We should take it slow.”

“Okay then. I’m done talking about dildos unless you have anything else to add?”

“I don’t,” he murmurs, “Okay then, onto giving a blowjob.”

“Onto giving a blowjob,” you reiterate. And then, like a psychopath, you smile. “Where should I start?”

He hates that body is on edge right now, hands trembling even though he hides them by squeezing his bed-sheets tight. “Try giving it a lick first? You can put your hand around the base too - if you want to.”

“Here?” His knees nearly buckle when you wrap your warm palm around his length, grip firm around the base of his cock. But that’s nothing to the gentle lap of your tongue against the side of his cock, a quick little thing and nearly launches him off the bed.

“Oh - uh - yeah, there.” His voice sounds far off and without warning your mouth is against him once more, tongue a sinful little thing that slips along his length, wet and warm and so sneaky he’s unsure of what to respond with apart from an instinctual buck of his hips. It’s easy like this, your tongue pressed against his cock and your hands slowly dragging upwards, placing a perfect pressure along his length that leaves him sighing into the air of his bedroom. Your movements grow more direct, reading the increasing desperation in Jeongguk’s body as he moves closer and closer to you, waiting until you feel sure enough. And then, finally, your mouth sinks onto him.

He nearly whimpers. Nearly. There’s a heat pooling in his gut and ebbs through every muscle and nerve, the coil of his desire springing tighter with each inch that slips down your throat. You take him so well, Jeongguk can’t help but watch in awe, the wideness in your eyes making him harder than he’s ever been in his life. Even with your inexperience, the way you swallow his cock is obscene. It’s an imagery Jeongguk engraves in his memory, purposefully stored because he knows he’ll think about it whenever his desires override his logical thoughts again. You lap him up like you want this, a soft moan echoing from your throat and along his length as you move deeper, mouth plaint to his dick. He forces himself to sit still, give you the time to adjust, lick and taste to your leisure, forcing the impending wave of heat back down into his gut. He holds it there even when you move away, the sound of your wet mouth popping off his dick permeating the air.

And of course, you lick your lips afterwards, a swift swipe of your pink tongue against them, your eyes trained on his.

“Like that?” you ask.

Jeongguk’s going to die. He is. And you’ll be the reason why listed on his death certificate.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, chest tight with want. “Like that.”

You lean back in without question, mouth taking his length like you were made for it and your hand works against the parts of him you can’t reach just yet. His mind wanders as his eyes take in this sight of you, on your knees and mouth open wide just for him. Someday he’d like to see if you could truly take his length, all of it. Down your throat. Hard and fast like his hips wanted to go. But this is more than perfect. How you concentrate on blowing him like you want to see him spill himself down your throat. It’s almost adorable, the earnestness in your gaze every time your eyes flicker upwards as your mouth moves along his cock. He likes this more than he’s willing to admit, the slowness in your pace, how your tongue is shy sometimes when it laves against his tip. It’s a change from what he usually gets - and a welcome one too. A tiny part of him feels like it would be fitting to hold your hand. You’re so pretty too, especially when your lips are on him. He’d like to take care of you, see what your face looked like when his tongue was deep inside of you, know what your taste like as you moan out his name. He doesn’t even register the words as they leave his mouth, head lost in the images colouring his thoughts.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he can’t help the grunt, the pet name natural to him, “So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

And you hum like you like it - like you like pleasing him, sinking further down until his tip bumps against the back of your throat. The zip down his spine nearly sends him spiralling.

“Baby,” he feels it then, when your eyes shift to meet his, the snap in his gut. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You need to stop right now if you don’t want to down your throat.”

But you don’t, moving faster like the twitch of his dick in your mouth spurs him on, your lips firm as they wrap around him. He doesn’t hold in his moves this time, hips gently moving up to meet your mouth, the tremor running through his bulky thighs nothing but a warning before it hits him hard. A wave of heat, melting through his muscles as his eyes flutter shut, your tongue lapping him right up, no protest as he unravels down your throat. It’s over in an instant but Jeongguk feels like mush, head floating and his bones soft with how hard his back hits the mattress. You pull off his length a second later, letting him feel you swallow all of him first.

“Holy shit.” His mouth is still disconnected from his brain.

There’s a beat of silence, so awkward that Jeongguk shuffles himself back onto his elbows even though his bones feel like giving way. And then your laugh tinkles through the air, a soft gentle thing that makes his heart seize in his chest.

“That… wasn’t so bad,” you say, staring at him with an ease that spikes an urge to press his lips against yours in his heart.

“Oh,” he replies, like an idiot. “You liked it?”

“Well, it didn’t suck… pun intended. Your moans are really loud.”

Jeongguk blushes - he blushes - even after the stupid joke you made.

“Um, yeah. I do, I guess. Sorry, I kind of forgot to show you what to do. But you’re a bit of a natural, to be honest.” He abhors the diffidence in his voice.

“I guessed that,” you retort, the smile on your face hypnotic, “From your really loud moaning.”

“Can you - fuck how do you ruin any intimate moment when it happens?”

“Guess I’m a natural at that too,” you say it with a laugh, and Jeongguk can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips.

“Um,” he tries, fully aware of the front view seat you were getting of his soft dick. He sits up to try and shield it, feeling awfully exposed. “If you’d like… I could return the favour?”

“No, I’m good.” There’s zero hesitation in your voice and you’re up before Jeongguk can think of a decent excuse to keep you in his room. “Maybe another time? I’ll text you. Bye Jeongguk.”

It’s then he regrets not encouraging you to undress earlier, his assumption that this would be the worst blowjob of his life incredibly incorrect. Perhaps if your clothes were scattered around his bedroom he could have found a way to convince you into his sheets while you searched for them. But you’re fully dressed, already bounding out of his door like his dick wasn’t down your throat moments ago. He watches you go with forlornness, mouth dry with words he’s incapable of expressing at this very instance and his heart oddly warm at the sight of your skipping away with a carefreeness he admires. He still hates that you’re leaving, perhaps the only positive of this situation is that you’re using his bedroom door instead of his window.

“Bye,” Jeongguk mumbles into the vacant air. You don���t even catch it, shooting him a quick grin before you’re bounding down the stairs as if this doesn’t even matter to you. A stumble on a stepping stone to something greater. He plucks up his phone, pants still lost somewhere on the floor. Blocking Mingyu for twenty-four hours should be enough of a punishment, right?

mingyu the man [10:21pm]

bro..

you alive?

jaykay [10:26pm]

i focking hate u

u know that right?

mingyu the man [10:31pm]

you dont my g

how was it?

did she jump out the window this time?

jaykay [10:34pm]

worse

mingyu the man [10:37pm]

bro wtf wot she do??

jaykay [10:40pm]

she actually gave me head

mingyu the man [10:45pm]

????

how is that worse dude you’re just as weird as her

jaykay [10:46pm]

ITS WORSE CAUSE I LIKED IT

mingyu the man [10:51pm]

damn....

you like crazy coochie don’t you

jaykay [10:52pm]

WHAT R U EVEN

MAN FUCK

I HATE U

mingyu the man [10:53pm]

lmao u don’t i brought her into your life u lurve me

im best man for the wedding

not jaehyun

u got dat right

jaykay [10:56pm]

i hope you fall into a ditch and die

mingyu the man [10:58pm]

okay big man

you gon see her again tho?

jaykay [10:59pm]

....maybe

idk man im fucked up right now

like???

SHE JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW??

mingyu the man [11:01pm]

and u still invited her over to suck your dick again

crazy coochie got u bad bruh

jaykay [11:06pm]

FUCK U

mingyu the man [11:11pm]

mhmm if thats what u say

i have a class wid her to tomorrow

any messages u want to pass on?

hello?

[mingyu the man is blocked]

hello? jaykayyyyyy

JAYKAY

SEAGULL

damn he got it bad

[britishboystm]

The Reunion | The Day We Met: A Fred Weasley Mini Series

Inspired by:

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (minor dni!) oral f & m receiving, handjob, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration (please be safe please, for the love of god!) swearing, fighting, arguments, angst, fluff, mentions of possible depression

WC: 7k+

Chapter Summary: A year after that infamous night, will flames be rekindled?

Series Masterlist

***

As promised, George and Y/N wrote to one another.

Fred had excluded himself from the letter exchanges as he felt that it would be too painful to put words to paper. He was also worried that the process would bring up deep unsurfaced feelings of regret and remorse.

George would often ask Fred if there was anything he would want him to add to his letters to Y/N. Fred would always say to write; Fred misses you a lot. But that was it.

It had now been a bit over a year since Y/N last saw the boys fly away into the dark sky that cold April night. Keeping her promise, Y/N continued her studies at Hogwarts and immediately began training to become a healer once she graduated. She was lucky enough to be granted a mentorship with the ever so helpful Madam Pomfrey during her last couple months of classes.

Now, on one hot May afternoon, Y/N found herself with Alicia, Katie and Angelina, walking aimlessly around Diagon Alley. All four girls had been so wrapped up in studies and work that it had been months since they last saw one another.

It was nice to finally catch up with her old schoolmates but Y/N did have an ulterior motive to her visit however. As they strides the cobblestone walkways, sitting at the bottom of Y/N’s tote bag was George’s last letter.

And in that letter, contained what seemed to be a plea for help.

Dear Y/N,

I hope training is going well and you are putting everyone in their place like always. We are so proud of everything you’ve accomplished in such a short amount of time. I’ve got to admit though, things aren’t going that well over here. The store is doing fine, brilliant actually! That isn’t the problem. It’s Fred. He hasn’t been getting any better. I know in our past letters you have said that it would take time for him to adjust and get over everything, but I’m not so sure now. It’s been over a year and nothing has really changed. He smiles and jokes around the shop like he always does and I know he loves what he is doing but it’s the nights that are the worst. He turns into a completely different person. I think it's the quietness. He doesn’t like his brain being the only thing he can hear. In the shop everything is so loud and energetic that he can distract him from his thoughts. But once that closed sign is put up and we head up to our flat for the evening he shuts down, almost like all of that energy has been drained out of him. He doesn’t even come out for dinner anymore. I usually just leave things on the table for him and he hobbles out to grab it when he feels like it, only to go back to his bedroom right away. I haven’t been in his room for months by the way and quite honestly, I’m scared to even try. Who knows what type of monster has formed in there. I’m also finding it hard to sleep. The walls aren’t thin in this place so I can usually hear him cry at night. I’ve been constantly casting silencing spells to drown him out but nothing’s working. I guess what I’m trying to say is, could you come visit? Only for a bit, you have no obligation to stay long but I think he really needs it. He misses you and I know you miss him too. So for my sake and both of yours, could you please find the time to come down here? You won’t regret it. I’ll bribe you if I have to, just name it!

Consider it Y/N,

Love George

After reading that letter she couldn't sleep for an entire week. Tossing and turning, Y/N contemplated on whether it was a good idea to go see them... to go see him and what would happen if they reconnected and all of those old feelings resurfaced? It would just make it that much more painful when she would have to leave. There was no sense in showing up only to give him false hope... right?

Then came the call from Angelina asking if she wanted to join her and the girls for a day on the town in Diagon Alley that weekend. Y/N wanted to say no, but something inside her forced her to say yes.

She instantly regretted it, but didn’t have the heart to cancel. She thought that maybe this was her subconscious telling her to finally bite the bullet and walk through those shop doors.

So here she was, avoiding that part of Diagon Alley. The four girls walked around in the heat, stopping along the way to window shop for what felt like hours. They even took a nice long lunch break at the Leaky Cauldron which provided a nice cool down for awhile. Things had been going fairly smooth sailing up to that point. Then they left the Leaky Cauldron and began walking around again. Y/N’s worries of having to face Fred Weasley started to re-emerge. But even though her brain was setting off red alerts for her to stop and turn around, something kept her feet moving along the path to where she remembered George saying they were located.

“You alright Y/N?” Katie asked as she linked arms with her old roommate. Y/N nodded slightly and let out a shaky breath.

“Hey, we don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.” Katie said with care as she gently grabbed Y/N’s arm to stop her in their tracks. All of her friends knew how Fred and her left things the year before and that it was a sensitive subject for her.

“I’m fine Katie, really. Thank you for checking though.” Katie gave her a sad smile in response. Y/N didn’t know if she was fine to be honest.

The group continued to walk a little longer before they came to a sudden stop. Looking up from her feet for what felt like the first time in a while, Y/N came face to face to one of the most ridiculous looking shops she had ever seen. The huge robotic head tipping it’s top hat that resembled the boys almost perfectly was the first thing that caught her eye. Then she noticed the etched golden letters that spelled out Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes just above the door. It would also be fair to say that the bright orange and purple paint coating made it the most colourful building in all of Diagon Alley.

Of course this was their shop.

“Fancy a visit with the boys?” Angelina asked cautiously. Y/N could feel all of the girl’s eyes on her, waiting to see if she would agree or not. It was now or never.

“Yeah, sure.” She said hesitantly. Katie gave her a reassuring rub on the back before they all walked up to the loud building, dodging hyperactive children rushing past them in both directions.

The second they stepped through the door, a gust of warmth and the smell of gunpowder hit Y/N in the face. The inside of the shop was even louder then the outside. Kids and parents ran around different displays and shelves of magical toys, trinkets and miscellaneous items.

It was incredible and Y/N couldn’t help but gasp at what the twins had created. Everything started to make a bit more sense as to why they were so adamant about leaving before graduation.

The girls began to walk further into the shop, clearly familiar with the space, unlike Y/N. They had formed themselves in a way that Katie and Y/N trailed behind, hidden from anyone’s view.

“Ladies, welcome!”

Y/N froze in place upon hearing that oh so familiar voice. He did sound a tad older though, almost as if his vocal chords had grown accustomed to constantly yelling over the many ecstatic customers they have gained in the past year.

But it was him.

Her Fred.

She began to turn around before Katie grabbed her, keeping her planted in place.

“Hey Freddie, George!” Angelina chirped before sauntering over and engulfing them into a hug.

From where Y/N was standing, Fred seemed nothing like how George mentioned in his letters. His face was bright and radiated a youthful energy.

She shouldn't be here, she thought. And yet something told her to stay. Something more than Katie’s tight grip on her shoulders.

“Guess who came to visit?” Angelina suddenly said with a cheeky grin. Fred frowned down at her, traces of a smile still evident his face.

“Who?” Once he asked, the girls all moved away from where they were standing, leaving Y/N completely exposed. There was no turning back. She had been spotted and struck. No escape in sight.

The second he laid eyes on her, his smile dropped. Everything was happening in slow motion.

Even though it had only been a year, she looked so different. She looked like a woman. Not that her face had aged at all but just from the way she held herself. Like an adult witch who was making her way in the world. She was no longer the young naive Hogwarts student that he had fallen in love with all those years ago.

That love never disappeared though. He could still feel it dancing within his chest and gut as she shifted awkwardly in place, clutching her canvas tote bag in an attempt to grounding herself.

Fred also looked older to Y/N. He had grown taller since the last time she saw him, if that were even possible. He looked more strongly built, most likely from lugging around all of those boxes of inventory day after day. His face had filled in a bit and the waistcoat he had on hugged his sides nicely underneath his colourful dress jacket. He looked great, amazing actually.

“Y/N.” He gasped out as he dropped the small box of fever fudge he was holding.

“Hi Freddie.” Her face was flushed and the pounding in her chest held a strong presence within her. She wasn’t given any more time to speak as he ran up to her and pulled her in for a bone crushing hug.

“I’ve missed you so much. What are you doing here?” He muffled into her hair. It smelled of the lavender and sage shampoo she used throughout their school days.

Such good memories.

“Girls day I guess.” She awkwardly giggled, pulling away from him and looking down at the floor.

He couldn't help but stare at her intently, happy she had finally decided to come see him.

It didn’t take long for Fred to take Y/N’s small hand in his. He gently tugged her away from the group and pulled her through the chaotic space, showing her everything that him and George had worked so hard to obtain. It was as if he had completely forgotten about the last year.

With every minute, Y/N became more and more relaxed. She watched him intently as he explained things with so much animation while his hands flailed around rapidly. It was really nice to see the childish excitement behind his eyes again, the childish excitement that made her fall in love with him in the first place.

Shit.

“You’re staying for dinner right?” He asked out of the blue while the other girls bid their adieu to the younger of the two twins.

“Freddie I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I have a lot of work to catch up on an-”

“Please.” His big brown puppy dog eyes were exactly why she shouldn’t have come in the first place, but it was too late. She had already been caught in his web.

“Alright. Only dinner though, and then I need to head home.” His face lit up and his eyes formed those same old endearing crinkles in the corners that she adored so much. Not thinking clearly he began to lean in for a kiss before he stopped himself, suddenly remembering where they were in their relationship.

“Sorry.” He whispered bashfully as Y/N shifted away from him, looking everywhere else but his baby browns. She had to set boundaries.

“You coming Y/N?” Alicia asked as the girls started to exit the shop.

“Umm,” Y/N looked between Fred and the girls, finding it difficult to decide on what she should do. Fred’s hand then found itself placed on her lower back, sending a nice tingle down her spine. Her final decision was finally made.

“You lot go ahead. I think I will stay back for a bit.” The girls nodded, grins sitting on all of their faces. This was clearly planned and Y/N had fallen for it.

“Thank you ladies for your help.” George muttered under his breath while he led them out and placed the closed sign on the door. Y/N thankfully didn’t hear him say a single word.

Once the shop had fully settled and filled with quiet, George began to subtly examine his brother's behaviour, already noticing a difference. His shoulders weren’t slumped over and his eyes weren’t hooded with pessimism and exhaustion.

“I’m really glad you came Y/N.” George explained as he finally walked over and went in for a welcoming hug. It had been sort of difficult to do so earlier, since Fred had kept her glued to his side the second she got there.

“Nice to see you to Georgie.” She replied with a small laugh. Once they finally detangled from one another, the twins led the third member of their long lost trio up the stairs and into their shared flat .

It was a good thing that she was there really. The twins couldn’t cook to save their lives, so the minute they began preparing dinner, Y/N shooed them out of the kitchen, only allowing them to approach if she needed help with something small or uncomplicated. It was like the good old days when their mum made meals for them. The scents of cumin and cooking oil as well as the sounds of long lost laughs wafted through the space. Things were going swimmingly, and if anything, solidified the fact that Y/N had missed Fred and George dearly.

“Godric, Y/N. It really is great to see you again.” George beamed as he sat back in his chair, easing into the fullness he was feeling from Y/N’s amazing grilled chicken dish.

“It took me a while but yeah, I’m glad too.” She stated, blushing slightly as she looked over to Fred. With the three of them together, everything was fine. It reminded her of when they would run and hide within the halls and walls of Hogwarts at the peak of their pranking careers.

Y/N being alone with Fred however, was a completely different story. Wounds had yet to be fully mended and deep scars still very much remained.

George took a moment to dart his eyes back and forth between Y/N and Fred as an obvious awkward aura danced around the cozy flat. George knew exactly what to do to remedy the tension.

“Well, I’m stuffed. Should probably be heading off to bed. I’m so glad you agreed to dinner Y/N. I hope we do this more often.” She abruptly looked up at the younger twin with a pleading look in her eyes that screamed; please don’t leave me with him!

He read it perfectly, but chose to simply give the begging girl a sly grin and an obnoxious “good night.” before patting his brother on the shoulder and retreating down the hall to his room.

Damn George Wealsey. Damn him to hell.

The awkward silence remained but it was now so much louder. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Fred shift around in his seat, trying to calm the uneasiness that they were both clearly experiencing,

Someone had to say something before one of them spontaneously combusted from all of these pent up emotions.

“I’m sorry.” They said collectively. There was a moment of shock that they had spoken the same words at the same time, then small smiles that led to shy blushes.

“I meant everything I said that night you know. About me waiting for you.” He said while staring down at the table, folding his napkins over and over again to busy himself and ease his anxiety.

“Fred I-“

“I’m serious.”

“Then why didn’t you write to me?” Her words were laced with hurt. It was quiet for a moment. He then bowed his head slightly in shame before bringing his hands up and through his red strands of hair, letting out a sigh.

“It would have hurt. Trying to keep something alive that you didn’t want anymore. But the minute I saw you walk through that door this afternoon, I felt like hope was restored.”

She relaxed slightly at his answer, but only slightly. She never wanted it to end, so for him to think she wanted to let go of what they had killed her. This conversation was happening though, and that was all that mattered

“It’s been a weird year. I found myself at times picking up the phone or running to grab parchment to tell you about crazy events that had happened. Then I would remember, remember that you weren’t there.” He frowned, being slightly offended by this.

“I never really left. If you wanted to, you could have. Called and written that is.”

“You’re one to talk.” She scoffed, folding her arms.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He retorted in a state of defensive confusion.

“It means you aren’t allowed to be mad at me when you didn’t contact me once all year!”

“You hurt me Y/N! I had everything planned out for us and you ruined it!” Voices were beginning to rise.

“I’m sorry?” She was this close at screaming at him. The first time they fought, she had been scared. This time was different. She was stronger, maturer and quite honestly, sick of his shit.

“Last time I checked, you were the one that left school to open a fucking joke shop! What? You just thought I would up and leave an actual future so I could be your little housewife? Fuck you Fred Weasley!” They were both standing at this point, moving in closer and closer to the point of them almost touching. He towered over her and she couldn’t help but notice that feeling.

“Oh get off it L/N.” He spat down at her. The image they took resembled a Chihuahua trying to gain dominance over a Great Dane.

“You, are a man child Fred Weasley. When the fuck are you going to grow up and face the real world?” She shoved a finger into his chest, which didn’t even him an inch.

“A man child?” He chortled mockingly with a raised eyebrow and obnoxious smirk.

“Yeah.” She retorted, grounding her feet to make herself feel bigger and stronger. Her Gryffindor was shining through like no tomorrow.

“Say it again.”

“What?” She asked confused.

“Say it, again.” His tone was low and direct. He exerted an intense sense of power and strength that she secretly loved.

“You are a man child Fred Weas-“ Before she could finish her sentence, he grabbed her cheeks into his palms and slammed his lips against hers. Her eyes widened in pure shock but she quickly closed them and grabbed his wrists in her hands, giving into the sensation. It was a sensation that she had been craving for so long. They moaned and groaned into each other’s mouths before he pushed her back and hoisted her up onto the kitchen counter by her arse. His hands then squeezed into her sides, causing her to squeak and squirm.

“Fuck.” She whispered as their mouths seperated for a moment of breath since she had gripped the base of his neck hair and pulled him away from her.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” She continued as he moved his lips down her neck. She was slightly mad at herself for giving in to him so easily. Deep down though she knew it was going to happen eventually. She had just been too proud to admit it.

“Why?” He whispered as he sucked on her jugular, making sure to reach every single beauty mark that painted her neck.

“B-because I-. Fuck Freddie I can’t speak.” Her words were getting lost with each lick and smooch he planted on her jawline.

“Then don’t.” He muttered into her flesh. She dropped the subject and chose to grip on to his hair once again. His hands slowly moved from her hips down to her thighs, stroking them softly. The feeling triggered Y/N’s memories of the night he left. She wanted to yell at the top of her lungs; Don’t leave again! But all she could do was whimper at the touch of his warm and inviting fingers circling against her quads.

The whimpers she was releasing made Fred stop and look into her eyes which he had been dreaming about for over a year now.

“You are so beautiful.” He stated as tears began to form in his lower waterlines. He hated himself for being such a prick and for not fighting hard enough for her. Instead he chose to put his tail between his legs and accept defeat. That wasn’t the Fred Weasley he knew.

But this girl, this stunning girl with her chest heaving and legs open had changed him. She had changed him for the better.

Just from the mere sight of him crying made her tear up herself. Unable to watch him suffer any longer, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into her chest as he continued to silently sob.

One of her hands crept up his back in hopes of soothing him. She began to rub gentle circles between his shoulder blades. Her other hand came up to caress his hair as she shushed him gently.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out through weak whimpers.

“I let you down.” Her heart broke at this statement.

“You didn’t let me down. I’m sorry too Freddie. I didn’t mean what I said about the shop. I am so proud of you and all the hard work you have done.” She leaned down to kiss the top of his head. This made him tighten the grip he had on her.

She let him hold her for as long as he needed. Merlin knew just how much they both needed it.

When he finally started to feel the emptiness within him fill slightly, he pulled himself away from her grasp to look into her red puffy eyes.

“Stay? Please?” He was desperate for her. Desperate for her touch, her body, her laugh, her voice, her smell and everything in between.

“Freddie, you know I can’t.” She spoke softly while she closed her eyes, forcing out a tear.

“Just for tonight, please.” She sighed as she laid her forehead against his shoulder in frustration, wrapping her calves around his waist to pull him in closer.

Neither one of them spoke for a while, instead choosing to listen to each other’s laboured breathing, finding that missing comfort in the inhalation and exhalation.

“Just for tonight.” She spoke quietly. He closed his eyes in relief, smiling to himself before pushing her off of his shoulder and gently taking her face in his hands.

“Thank you.” He spoke, lightly pecking her on the lips. She smiled back and removed her hands from his neck.

“I’ve missed you.” She said in a whisper as her right hand grazed down his torso, stopping at his crotch. She began to palm him, making sure not to break eye contact. He sputtered out and buckled at her touch.

“Fuck.” He softly groaned, his face tucking into the curvature of her jaw and neck.

“What do you want, baby?” She asked, speeding up her movements.

“You.” Was all he was able to vocalize. This sent a sensation right down to her underwear.

“Stand up straight love.” He followed her instructions immediately, pulling all of his weight off of her and struggling to find a solid stance. She then hopped off of the counter and found her way down onto her knees, preparing herself for what was to come.

He tried so hard to not go absolutely feral as he watched her look up at him with these soft doe eyes. Her hands then came up to tug at his belt, making it so his hips dipped forward from the force of her pull. Never in his wildest imagination did he think that the sound of a clanking belt would be so heavenly.

“Need you.” He said through a gasp, gently stroking her hair. He could feel her fingers dance along the elastic band of his boxers before tugging them down to above his knees along with his work trousers. The cool air hit his member once it sprung free and lightly tapped his lower stomach. The feeling sent shivers down his spine and caused his leg hairs to stand on end.

His tears had now become dry against his cheeks as he strangled out a new cry. This time from pleasure as Y/N thumbed the tip of his member gently.

Noticing how desperate he was, Y/N continued to stroke him until his cock was covered in any kind of wetness he could offer.

Once she felt it appropriate she leaned forward and took a deep breath, taking him into her mouth and as far down her throat that she could. Everything she couldn’t swallow was dealt with by her hand.

Fred groaned profusely through his bitten lip, trying hard not to be too loud. His brother was just down the hall after all.

“Fuck love.” He encouraged, holding the back of her head lightly in a make shift ponytail as he gently thrusted forward, causing her to gag and slobber slightly. The strangled chokes she let out around his member made him subconsciously quicken his pace. No longer in control, she gave up on taking care of him with her hands and chose to lay them flat agaisnt his tense thighs for support instead.

Her breathing began to shorten and the choking was becoming a tad bit unbearable, so she lightly tapped one of his thighs, making him pull her off of him and up to her feet. She wobbled slightly at the feeling of coming up to fast and from the lack of oxygen as she fell into his arms.

“You alright love?” He asked with concern through erratic pants. She could feel his still rock hard member cuddled up against her hip as she leaned against him.

“Yeah, just thought we should take this into the bedroom.” He nodded in agreement and let go of her for a moment to pull up his trousers and boxers. He hissed at the fabric grazing against his sensitive area but paid it little attention. He couldn’t worry about himself since he wanted to be fully invested in Y/N and her wants and needs. He would be dealt with soon enough, that was for certain.

Once he was fully clothed again, he decided to pick Y/N up, catching her off guard by throwing her over his shoulder and making her squeal out in excitement.

“Shhh, don’t want to wake up George do we?” He whispered through a sly smile.

“Depends.” She spoke seductively.

“You cheeky little mink.” He growled jokingly while placing a palm down on to her arse with a firm smack, making her squeal out once more, this time in pleasure.

He carried her down the hall and into the room right across from the one George disappeared into. Once they were fully inside, Fred threw Y/N down onto his unmade bed.

She took a moment to take in her surrounding, mentally referring back to the letters George had sent her. She thought about how worried he was about the depressive hole Fred had found himself in and that his room would be a good indication of it, even if he himself hadn’t been in there in months.

It wasn’t terrible. Laundry scattered the floor, clearly making it difficult to differentiate dirty from clean. A few bottles of fire whiskey sat in a dark corner by his work desk, almost as though they were being shunned from the rest of the room. Used tissues were placed on his bedside table in the formation of a small hill, making it unclear which ones were used from his nights of tears and which ones were used for his nights of self pleasure to calm the tears, both actions having her in mind.

She observed all of this as he laid on top of her and licked up her neck.

“Freddie.” She moaned out, finally coming back to reality from her thoughts.

“Yes baby?” His lips attached to her upper chest.

“Off.” She said, brain too fried from the pleasure to speak in fully formed sentences.

“ ‘f course.” He mumbled before detaching himself from her collarbone and sitting up to straddle her waist. His fingers traced up and down the buttons on her light summer dress before he started to unbutton it, allowing her bra to be exposed to him. It wasn’t a fancy lace or an elegant silk, but rather a sweet light yellow cotton that drove him absolutely mad.

Because it was her. It was always her.

He took a moment to admire the canvas that was laying below him that he couldn’t wait to paint before tugging the bra down, revealing her breasts to him. She let out a small whine as the cold air struck her bare skin, making her nipples perk up in the process. He shifted his gaze between her face and her chest. She nodded slightly, giving him the go ahead. With her approval, he leaned down and latched his tongue and lips around her delicate areolas.

She hummed with ease and shimmied her hips underneath him. He took a good minute to praise her supple mounds before bringing his hand down and underneath her dress, tapping her hip. She caught the hint and lifted herself up, allowing him to pull the floral patterned fabric from underneath her and toss it amongst one of his numerous piles. She then arched her back, making it so he could remove the constricting bra fully. He let out a small groan before shifting his body, specifically his lips, down her stomach to her navel. His lips littered her skin with kisses but he could tell she was craving a different kind of touch.

“So good f’ me, love. Have always been so good f’ me.” She smiled at this and shut her eyes as he started to tug her underwear down her bent legs. Almost automatically her knees fell open, giving Fred admission to his own personal holy grail. His gaping mouth emitted a hot breath that hit her centre, causing her to squirm.

“Freddie, please, right there, ‘m ready for you.”

God she was so perfect.

“I know baby. I can see it, can see all of it.” His index finger stroked down her wet folds, making her shudder.

“So sensitive.” He tutted softly as he grabbed both of her ankles and tugged her further forward, placing the back of her knees over his shoulders.

“Need it now,” Her whining made it abundantly clear that she was unable to handle much more of his teasing.

He couldn’t torture her any longer, so he leaned in and let a small amount of spit to drop from his lips and on to her sensitive clit. Then he brought his tongue down to swirl the liquid he released around her entrance, making her moan out loud to indicate to him that he was doing his job really well.

All he could think about was the sounds she was making and how she tasted just like he remembered.

So sweet.

“Taste so good love.” She gripped the sheets at the vibrations of his words of encouragement.

“Whenever you’re ready, come f’ me.” He spoke as he stopped his movements against her clit and dropped her legs, allowing her to be laid out for him. He then laid himself on his stomach between her legs and I nserted a couple of digits into her hole, hoping to speed up the process of bringing her to a fully euphoric state.

“Okay.” She whined, along with a submissive nod that was so innocent, he couldn’t help but rut his hips into the sheets beneath him to try and calm his own ache. His fingers sped up and he attached his lips to her once more. She dug her heels into his upper back, pushing him further against her heat.

“Right there, right there, fuck I’m go-going t-” She couldn’t even finish her sentence as she released onto his face. They both wheezed out in exhaustion and once he felt like he could finally move, he sat up, kissing her roughly, making it so her wetness transferred from his lips to hers.

“Too many clothes Freddie.” She sighed out as she weakly tugged at his waistcoat button, while she slowly came down from her orgasm.

He was utterly bewildered by her and what she had just done that he had no choice but to scramble to sit up more and almost rip off his clothing in anticipation.

He moved off of the bed and tried to keep eye contact with her as she leaned back on her elbows, naked and open for him. He could see their mixture of slick fluids covering her thighs reflect in the moonlight.

Once he was fully nude, Y/N stopped him from moving towards her like a dog in heat by pressing her foot against his chest.

“Stay there. Wanna get a good look at you.” He tilted his head slightly in confusion, but obeyed his queen nonetheless.

She just wanted to see how he had changed over the past year. A year since they first made love. His arms were more toned and his abs carried a deeper definition. His thick thighs made her practically salivate.

“Okay.” She breathed out shakily.

“Get over here.” She continued, giving him the come hither motion with her finger. He smirked and quickly crawled over to her, hopping on top of her, pinning her down underneath him and smothering her with kisses.

She laughed out, trying to pry him off of her small frame.

‘Okay, okay enough! You’re crushing me!” She giggled.

He finally stopped, not expecting her to then lunge at him and roll them over so she was on top.

Her naked figure straddled his hips and he couldn’t help but to stare up at her in awe as he stroked her figure gently.

“I’ve missed you.” She said out of the blue. He smiled sadly in return.

“I’ve missed you too.” They both went in for a kiss.

“Want you inside me baby.” She mumbled against his lips. He nodded and shifted so she was hovering right above his erect shaft.

She let out a shaky breath of release from her sweaty, heaving chest as she eased down onto him, making him groan out loudly and grip her hips harder than before.

It had been a whole year since he had felt the touch of a woman but it had been totally worth it in the end. Because it was with her and that’s all that mattered.

“Oh Freddie.” She moaned, placing her hands against his chest as she began to rock back and forth. He could feel his toes curl just from the mere sight of her getting off on his cock. Her lashes sat gently against her soft cheeks and her plush lower lip was stuck between her teeth.

Unable to bear it, Fred began to thrust up into her with a rapid and rough pace, trying to catch up in the chase. The sounds admitting from both of them and their collective wetness grew. He knew neither of them would be able to last much longer. Especially after being away from one another for so long.

“Come ‘ere.” He panted, sweat forming in his hairline and on his upper lip. She nodded and leaned down so he could wrap his arms around her in a hug. They stayed like this for a while as he continued to slam up into her again and again. He made sure to have her ear close to his lips, so she could hear just how good she was making him feel.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He winced as his orgasm began to rise to the surface.

“It’s okay, let go.” She struggled to whisper. He nodded in response and squeezed her arse, pressing her further down on to him with every rough slam of his hips.

He then let out a shuddering sigh as he finished inside of her, all of his muscles relaxing that had been clenching during their heated escapade.

Y/N continued to whine and rut herself against him, making it clear that she hadn’t reached her climax yet.

Fred laid his head back on to his pillow in exhaustion, taking her with down him. He wasn’t done though. This was all about her and Fred be damned if he didn’t make her come at least twice.

His hand crept between their sweaty, connected bodies and pressed his fingers to her sensitive clit. Small ministrations were made to her bundle of nerves and she couldn’t help but kiss up his neck and grind down on him in return, a lot like when she would use her pillow after they broke up, always thinking of him of course.

“Freddie, baaaby!” She cried out, making his body tense up again as well as his cock.

“Yes baby?” He asked while stroking her arse with his other hand.

“Almost there.” She answered through heavy breaths.

“You look so good for me, love. Using me as your personal sex toy. Fuck I love you so much.” His words encouraged her to quicken the pace of her hips which made her clench her thighs against his sides.

“Oh god.” She groaned out as her eyes rolled back slightly before shaking and then relaxing, dropping all of her body weight on top of him.

Hot air deflated from her lungs, hitting his sweaty chest.

“Fuck I’ve missed you.” He quietly chuckled while rubbing her moist back with one hand and combing through his now wet hair with the other. She giggled in return and dragged her lips over the skin of his chest tiredly before reaching up to kiss him.

“I love you.” She hummed.

“I love you.” He responded candidly.

It didn’t take long for sleep to take over the young couple as they held on to each other for dear life.

May 8th, 1997

The next morning Y/N woke up with a jolt. Remembering it was a Sunday she relaxed again.

Her eyes roamed around the space for a moment, recalling that she never made it back home the day before.

Looking to her left, she saw Fred laying naked on his stomach with a leg draped over her torso and his arms tucked underneath his pillow. His face was sunken into the feathery fabric as he emitted soft peaceful snores. The poor bloke probably hadn’t had this good of a sleep in over a year.

She didn’t want to wake him right away. Instead she allowed herself to watch him and enjoy his beautiful features that she adored so much. Almost as if he were a spectacle.

She shifted over so she was laying on her side. Fred’s leg slipped off of her frame in the process. Her hand then came up to his face to caress his cheek.

“Mm, hello there.” He spoke through a dopey smile and deep morning voice, sending her into a tizzy. She chuckled lightly and began rubbing his exposed bicep in a soothing manner.

His eyes stayed closed as he let out a deep sigh, pulling Y/N further into his chest.

“Freddie?” She asked quietly. He hummed in response, pressing her even closer to him.

“I should be going soon.” She hated to break up the lovely moment but she couldn’t stay for much longer.

What would happen after this moment, no one knew. But what was most important was that the year of silence was now finally over.

“No, don’t.” He whined and pouted as he shifted down a bit to nuzzle his face in between her breasts. His favourite place to be.

She let out a sigh and gently played with the hairs at the back of his neck.

“Freddie, you promised.” She warned. He groaned out in a huff and finally let go of her, followed by getting out of bed begrudgingly.

She watched him as he walked around the bedroom, picking out an outfit for the day from the numerous piles of clothes.

“Fred talk to me.” She hated the silence.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He was unable to look her in the eye as he paced around his room, continuing to get himself dressed.

“I don’t know where we go from here.” He gripped his dark oak drawer at her words, frustrated that she was still being so stubborn, even after the events from the night prior.

“Look, I want you here, always. I want to wake up in the morning and have your face be the first thing I see, then have it be the last thing I see before I go to sleep. Is that enough of a forward for you?”

She groaned in aggravation and threw herself back down on to the bed. It seemed as though no compromise was ever going to be made.

“Look Fred.” She stared up at his ceiling.

“We can take it slow. I can make more of an effort to come see you on the weekends and you can make more of an effort to write to me. We will see where things take us, you know… slowly.” He turned at this with a sigh and walked back over to the bed, crawling over to her and placing a loving kiss to her lips.

“If it means the possibility of us being us again, then yes, I’ll do whatever it takes.” She smiled and grabbed his face, kissing him once more.

“Deal.” She sat up enthusiastically and stuck her hand out for him to take. He looked down at it as if she had an extra thumb. She waited patiently and he rolled his eyes, finally grabbing her hand in his and shaking it, almost as if they had just closed a business deal.

He then tugged her towards him by the hand which made her land on top of him. He began to tickle her and she immediately squirmed in his grasp.

“Stop, I need to get dressed!” She squealed.

“Who’s the best shag of your life?” He asked teasingingly.

“You!” She laughed through her struggle.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you love.” He further pushed through a cheeky grin.

“Fred Weasley is the best shag of my life!” She knew this was the only way that he would let up.

“Right answer.” She scoffed at his smug response as he let go of her.

“Only shag is more like it.” She muttered jokingly, just loud enough for him to hear.

“And don’t you forget it.” He winked before smacking her bare arse and rolling off the bed. She yelped and gave him a look of light hearted warning.

She soon got up herself and began to change, noticing out of the corner of her eye, Fred watching her from the doorway.

“What?” She asked in false annoyance.

“Nothing, just looking at you is all.” He was beaming from ear to ear. She rolled her eyes playfully in return.

Once she was done getting dressed, he reached his hand out for her to take. She walked over and grabbed it, allowing him to lead her out of the room and down the hall.

When they reached the kitchen, they didn’t initially notice George sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a bowl of cereal.

The couple were to busy poking and prodding each other as they looked through the fridge for breakfast.

“Mooorning.” They quickly shot up and shut the fridge, turning to see George smirking at them, who was as it seemed, clearly aware of what had occurred the night prior.

He gave them a wink and a knowing look before going back to his bowl.

[shoutoismybaby]

Omega Shame Part 2

Part 1 / Part 3

Thank you guys for all your interest! It made me super happy to see so many people excited about my writing, so I hope you enjoy and stay tuned for the last part soon!

Warnings: Angst, depression, mentions of fighting (bc hero training)

***

The classroom didn't smell right.  Not only was your serotonin inducing scent the class had gotten accustomed to in the past couple months missing, but a certain caramel smell had a hint of burnt rubber and ash to it. Despite some of the girls hearing commotion coming from your room, you didn’t answer their calls or knocks, so no one knew what was going on. The only knowledge the class had was that you weren’t in class and Bakugou was upset. Well, more upset than he usually was.

Even his best friends, whether or not he would admit that’s what they were to him, would earn growls and bared teeth if they got too close. Other than that though, Bakugou was generally unresponsive. Only caring when people got too close, but he didn’t respond when Aizawa called on him, or when the lunch bell rang. Only shoving the teachers hand off his shoulder when he came to check up on the blond.

Bakugou was just too caught up in his thoughts to really be aware of his surroundings as he followed his class aimlessly to the cafeteria.

Even though his body was in the P.E Training grounds, his brain was back in time to your dorm room. Back when your body began to tremble at the sight of him, the way salty tears rushed from your eyes when he started to speak. Your throat squeaking as you begged him to spare the nest you had constructed. It was beautifully made, if you had asked him. The way your soft blankets were woven together with your favorite weekend clothes, pillows being used to stable the walls. It looked incredibly comfortable.

Bakugou knew that Omegas could get upset if their nest was intruded without permission. But he also knew he was nowhere near your circular haven. Yet, you were crying, shaking, and begging.

It was then that it dawned on the hothead that you were scared of him. His omega was Terrified of him. It made his heart beat erratically, how could he make someone he cared about so scared of him? Especially his own omega. It was his job to keep you safe, to take care of you and make sure you were comfortable. You trusted him to fulfill this role, but you thought he was going to destroy your nest?

It made Bakugous’ buzz in confusion. It made no sense that you would be freaking out just because your alpha walked in your room.

Unless you weren't even his omega by choice. What if you just accepted his courting gift because you were afraid he would hurt you? He had been told multiple times throughout his life that he needed to stop being so aggressive,  that he would scare omegas away, but he had always brushed those comments off. He had thought that he would find someone who liked him despite his anger, and he thought you were that person.

Clearly, though, you were too fearful of him to even reject his proposal. Your trembling body inside of your nest was undeniable proof of that. You were too scared to even tell him you were nesting, and if the sight was evidence enough you didn’t seem to have or want his scent anywhere close to your nest. He should have noticed it before. What kind of alpha scared those they were supposed to protect?

You probably just got off of your meds to make him happy too. You had made so many sacrifices to keep him happy, and the thought of that made his blood boil. He had been a terrible alpha to you. He had to end this, he couldn’t put you through anymore pain. His inner alpha cried at the thought of having hurt you.

His large hand moved towards his opposite wrist, gently shimmying the bracelet that sat on it off. It was your courting gift to him, since you insisted on making him something in return. It was simple, made of skillfully twisted threads in his hero costume colors. His heart had skipped a beat the moment you presented it to him, not that he would tell anyone that. Especially not now, not when all the memories he shared with you were put into perspective.

He remembered how it felt as though the threads burnt his skin on its way past. How it dragged his heart down with it as it fell to the floor. Since then, he felt numb to the outside world. It didn’t matter how many times Kirishima tried to get him involved in their 1-1 match, he mostly just stood there, letting his instincts do the bare minimum to protect his body.

“Come on man!” His body dodged another hit just enough before slacking again, causing the redheaded alpha to growl. “You’re not responding to anything and you smell, honestly bad bro. What’s going on with you!?”

The only thing “going on” in Katsuki’s brain was replaying the pain in your eyes over and over. Replaying how you were scared, no, terrified of the person who was supposed to protect you. His omega wasn’t his omega anymore, and his alpha felt broken. He felt alone.

He could only focus on how he failed to do his basic duties. How he failed you. Everyone had been right when they critiqued his anger. He was too aggressive to deserve an Omega. Clearly he couldn’t treat one right no matter how much their smile made serotonin speed through his brain. If he couldn’t protect you from himself it was ridiculous to think he would do anything but fuck up protecting Japan from villains. He was a terrible alpha who couldn’t even treat an Omega properly, so what was the point? He wasn’t even good at his innate purpose.

By now Kirishima was getting desperate. All day his best friend had been growing more and more despondent, and he was scared for what that meant. He just needed Bakugou to talk to him, Kirishima wanted to be reassured that he was okay. And he had an idea of how to pull Bakugou back into the present, even if he didn’t like it.

“I don’t want to do this but, I’m really worried about you. Bakugou is this about (Y/n)?” The blondes alpha perked up at the mention of your name, drawing Bakugou’s head up with it.

“The girls said something happened in (Y/n)’s room last night and,” He hesitated, ruby eyes falling to Bakugou's large wrists. “You’re not wearing the courting bracelet she made for you anymore”

His words caused a whimper to leave Katsukis throat. Kirishima had no idea what kind of pain that reminder brought to Bakugou, but he could guess. The way the blonds hands clenched and brows furrowed made Kirishima's heart drop, he hated bringing up things that could hurt Katsuki. But he could only fix the problem if he knew what was wrong, and for that he needed Bakugou to talk to him.

“Did, did you guys break up?” Kirishima kept his distance, afraid of what Bakugou would do once he snapped out of his trance. But all Bakugou did was begin to shake, blinking furiously as he became aware of his surroundings once again along with the hot tears that flooded his eyes. Kirishima ran towards his friend then, placing a hand on the other alphas shoulder in a hope to be any bit comforting without overwhelming his friend. He analyzed the way Bakugous nose scrunched, causing his large canines to show as the first sob burst out of his trembling frame. It was so powerful that the blond lost his balance, falling into the stunned redheads arms. Face tucked into his friends chest, shielded from the attention his sobs were bringing from his entire class.

“Bakugou…” Kirishima ran his hands up and down Bakugous back gently feeling the way the blond fisted his shirt in desperation, “What happened? You can tell me.”

“I’m a terrible alpha,” Bakugous voice was shaky and Kirishima almost felt guilty at how relieved he was to hear it. “No you’re not man, wha-” “Yes I am!” Bakugous voice reached the same volume as his sobs that interrupted his speech. “She thought that I was going to destroy her nest, she was scared of me. I was supposed to defend her when really I’m the one she wanted protection from.”

Krishima didn’t know how to respond to what his friend said. Eyes too wide in confusion as he looked towards his teacher for answers. You had always been absolutely smitten with Bakugou, just his presence in the room made it seem like you radiated love and positivity. It didn’t seem that Bakugou needed any further encouragement to continue though, as his next statement sent ice down the spines of the whole class.

“I failed as an alpha… I don’t want to be alive anymore.” All Bakugou wanted to do in that moment was curl up and die. He didn’t have a purpose anymore, so he didn’t see the point of existing. It was then that his body seemed to shut back down in order to conserve energy, he began to slack in Kirishima's arms leaving him sitting on the ground despite the redheads' many protests. The revelation of how his best friend felt bringing tears to his own eyes, and a recognition to his teachers.

“Aizawa, what's happening to Bakugou?” Kirishima asked, struggling to hold himself together as he knelt in front of his friend. Bakugou’s eyes seemed more void of life than ever as he stared aimlessly at Kirishima's shirt.

“Someone call Recovery Girl, I fear that Bakugou has developed an Alpha depression.”

***

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[professional-benaddict]

depressed!peter gets into a fight with some classmate which leads to him getting a skull injury. He wakes up in the psych ward regressed and cuffed to his hospital bed. Tony is his assigned psychiatrist and is trained in Littles. Especially ones with mood disorders.

anything for my auntie!!🥺🥺💗💗 this got a bit heavy, but i hope the comfort makes up for it!!

Psychiatrist Tony, +18 Little Peter, Littles are Known, doctor Stephen, depression, suicidal thoughts, crying, head injuries, hospitalisation, psych hold, whump, comfort

“Hey, Doctor Stark.”

“Yeah?”

“Doctor Strange called from the ER. He says he has a patient who he thinks should be put on psych hold.”

“All right, I’ll head down in a bit.”

The psychiatric ward of the hospital is at the far west side of the hospital, so Tony has a bit of walking to get to the ER at the other end of the huge hospital. He brings a coffee with him, sipping on it while he walks, his mind already racing a bit with what Stephen Strange has for him at the ER.

For once, the ER is surprisingly quiet when Tony walks in. He throws away his empty coffee cup before he finds Stephen in trauma room 3. The neurosurgeon is stood at the foot of the hospital bed, his nose in a chart scribbling away. He smiles a little tiredly at Tony.

“Hey, he’s the one.” Stephen says, pointing at the patient with his pen.

The patient is a male in his late teens or early twenties. He is unconscious, although it seems like he is just sleeping peacefully where he is tucked in the blankets. The bandage on his head tells another story.

“Peter Parker, 18 years old. Someone found him knocked out unconscious and bleeding after what seems like a fight. He woke up in the ambulance, but he didn’t make much sense. My guess is he fell or was pushed over and knocked his head on the ground. He was bleeding from his head and vomitied once when he woke up. CT confirms a skull fracture, but there’s no other damage luckily. 12 stitches on his scalp, and he’s stable now.” Stephen lists, hanging the chart back on the boy’s bed.

“So, why did you bring me here?” Tony asks.

“He said he wanted to die in the ambulance. Multiple times.” Stephen says, his tone more serious. “Will you take him?”

“Of course. No doubts about it.” Tony nods, putting his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “I’ll talk to the nurses to have him transported.” He adds, turning on his heel to walk out, but Stephen speaks up.

“And one more thing. He’s a Little.”

Oh. That complicates things.

———

Peter wakes up to a pounding headache. He sometimes does that when he hasn’t had enough to drink the day before, so the pain in itself isn’t surprising. However, as he starts to come to his senses, he realises it’s not his head that hurts. It’s his scalp.

The boy opens his eyes, realising with a soft gasp that he is in a room he doesn’t recognise. It is white, bare and far from homey. It’s a hospital room, Peter realises, closing his eyes again in agony.

What happened?

He was going to class, although he didn’t want to. Some of his classmates bumped into him, wanting to cause trouble. And Peter saw an opportunity, and he took it. He had ended up exactly where he wanted, but then again he didn’t.

The confusion, the fear and the uncertainty of it all crashes down on Peter, and he regresses into his Little headspace. It just makes it worse, but at least it lets him cry. So, Peter cries.

Peter tries to lift his hands to his face to wipe his eyes, but he feels something holding him down. Looking down at his wrists, Peter finds he has been restrained to the bed. The restraints have soft faux fur on the insides, but the emotional hurt still pains him.

Peter cries louder, so he doesn’t hear the knocks on the door to his hospital room. A man in a white coat walks in, and he hurries to the bed with a concerned look on his face.

“Wha-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m Doctor Stark. You’re safe here, it’s okay. Are you in pain?”

At first, Peter nods his head. He is hurting, but then he realises that’s not what the doctor is asking about. He shakes his head, and his lips wobble as he looks up at the doctor.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I know you must be scared, but it’s okay, and you’ll be okay. Can you try and breathe for me?”

Peter does as he is told. Being given simple instructions to follow makes Peter feel a lot better, in fact. It’s a common thing for Littles, wanting to please their caregivers by doing as they are told. The boy clings to the doctor’s calm and reassuring aura.

“My hands- I…”

“I’ll take them off.” The doctor says with a kind smile. Peter cannot help but notice how nice and warm the doctor’s hands are on his wrists. Peter wants to hold onto him, but he resists the urge with all his might. “There, that’s better. Here, I’ll raise your bed a bit. You should blow your nose too.”

Again, Peter does as he is told. He blows his nose, whimpering a bit at the pain that spreads through his head in the process.

“What happened…?” Peter asks, holding his head. He feels the bandage that’s wrapped around his head and the dressing above his left ear.

“You hit your head on the ground, and you fractured your skull.” The doctor says. He is leaning his hands on the side rail of Peter’s bed. His hands look strong.

“Wha- I dunno… what that means…” Peter mumbles. The words are hard to find, and Peter is not sure whether that is due to his head injury or his current headspace. It’s been months since he last dropped.

“Tell me, Peter, how old do you feel?”

“Huh?”

“It says in your file that you’re a Little. You’re regressing now, right? It’s important for me to know how old you are in your headspace, so that I can explain things to you so that you understand.”

“Oh…” So, they know. They must know about everything. Peter has to lean back on the bed and cover his eyes with his hands to keep himself together. Otherwise, he will just burst into tears in front of the nice doctor, like a silly baby. “I- 10, maybe? I- I dunno…”

“Okay, thank you. You’re doing great, Peter. Now, about your head…”

Doctor Stark is easy to understand. Despite his upset and the pain, Peter finds it easy to follow the doctor’s explanations. There’s a fracture in his skull, a part of the bone that’s broken, but nothing else has been damaged. The bone will heal on it’s own, and he’ll be okay. But, Peter still doesn’t feel okay. He hasn’t in a long time.

“Peter, I can see that something is eating at you. Tell me what it is.”

“I…”

A long pause. The sobs are pushing at Peter’s throat again, wanting to get out so bad.

“It’s okay. It’s safe to tell me.”

Maybe, just maybe.

“I- I said I wanna die…”

“You said you wanted to die.” Doctor Stark repeats. Hearing it back like that makes Peter sob finally. “Do you want to die now?”

If only he wasn’t feeling 10 years old, Peter would be able to explain. He doesn’t want to die, but he wants to die. He wants everything to stop, and he hates himself for wanting such a thing. What would May think? His palms are wet with tears.

It started a few weeks after he got classified officially and his first regression started. Peter never thought he would be one of the rare Littles to suffer from depression after classification, but he did.

“Okay, Peter. I see how upset you are, and I’m going to help you. I’ll get a nurse to start a ketamine treatment. It helps people who are in similar situations as you.”

Peter nods a little, wiping his tears. He is too embarrassed and snotty to look the doctor in his eyes, but his ears are zoned in on the doctor’s calming voice.

“I’ll look after you, Peter. I bet you’ve had it rough for a while, and I know how to help you. We’ll get this sorted out, so you don’t have to worry. You’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

Peter nods again. He wants to cry more, but he finds the strength to hold back now, thanks to Doctor Stark.

“I’ll help you, Peter. We’ll sort this out.”

And Peter believes him.