#another week of wondering if it's even worth it but hey! we persist! it's my birthday soon too!

[silverselfshippingchaos]

the way she looks at him here... goodness...

[bluecookies02]

When they make you cry

pairings: Hawks x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Aizawa x Reader, Izuku x Reader, Tamaki x Reader

Tamaki, Bakugou and Hawks are in a female!reader perspective, the rest of them are Gender Neutral

warnings: angst to fluff

masterlist

Hawks will get cocky, laughing in your face when he sees your shocked expression.

Both of you were going at each others throats, spitting insults to one another, just your recent daily routine.

Now Hawks knew you were a tough gal, which in his head made it alright for him to strike a really painful nerve into your chest.

As you remained speechless he turned around, a winning smirk plastered on his lips.

Just as he took a few steps forward, sobs wrecked your body as you hid your face in your hands.

"I d-don't think I can take this anymore Keigo" your broken voice reached his ears.

A pang of guilt pierced his chest once he turned around to face you.

He did this. He made you cry. He completely drained your happiness out. He hurt you.

His teeth dug into his lip, his eyes stinging as tears picked at them.

At that point, he didn't give two shits about who's right and who's wrong, his arms reaching for you and wrapping themselves around your shaking form.

He held you there for a while, listening to your cries that gradually turned into soft sniffles against his chest.

"I-" He opens his mouth but his words remained stuck at his throat.

"I don't want us to end..." you mumbled, your own words throwing you into another sobbing fit.

"We won't end here kid, I've got you...shit...I'm a fucking idiot...of course we won't end sweetheart...c'mon look at me" he raised your chin up gently, looking into your red eyes.

"I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry...not just for today, for every day before this, I-, God... don't leave kid, p-please"

You stared at his face, tears now streaming down his cheeks as his grip on you tightened.

You swallow the lump in your throat, grabbing his hands in yours.

"Something has to change Keigo...I miss you...we've been distant for months. Sometimes you don't even come home to me, do you know how that feels?"

"I know, I know, I swear... I miss you too. I'll tell you about everything I promise. Let's go home please."

You hesitantly nod, putting your heart on the line for the last time.

And now looking back, you're glad you did.

//quirk: flesh manipulation (the reader can manipulate the molecules in a person's flesh just by touching it, making them useful mid-battle to make the other heroes ready to fight again in a matter of seconds, but also making them a threat to their enemies )

If there was one thing he despised about you, it was your guts.

Hell curse him for falling in love with someone so stubborn.

To live through a relationship with Dabi meant that you had to have though skin. You had to be strong enough to bite your cheeks and endure the issues that people in regular relationships never face.

He enters your home, covered in bruises and cuts, asking for your first aid kit.

You sigh to yourself, your usual nagging and yelling never reaching his ears.

You place the first aid kit onto your bedside table, turning your back to him, tiredly walking out of the room.

"Hey-" his voice calls out to you, quiet and confused.

You close the door behind you, making your way to your couch.

One of these days it'll be the last time he walks into your home, the last time you help him clean his cuts and the last time you hear his voice.

The weight of uncertainty pulls at your chest harder with every passing day.

He chose to continue living like this, he is the one that keeps ruining his own life, it's his ambitions that are making you this miserable.

Once he patches himself up, he sits on your bed for a while. Your silance meaning one thing and one thing only. You finally realized how pointless being with him is, you finally got it through your thick skull that he's nothing special to dwell about.

Time passes by quickly, a few hours already gone yet he's still glued to the same spot, not having the strength to leave your room, too scared to face your rejection once he gets out.

He should be happy for you, you won't be hurting anymore, you'll be able to find someone better.

He slowly twists the knob, taking slow steps through your living room.

You are laying on your couch, tear stains on your face and a tissue crumbled in your hand.

His chest tightenes at the sight. You cried yourself to sleep. He wonders... how many times did you cry over him? How many times would you just lay here as he carelessly roamed the streets?

He should leave...he should spare you the pain he brings. You were the only good thing in his life and by continuing this he'll ruin you, piece by piece.

You showed nothing but kindness to him, you made him realize that some people are worth getting close to, you being a hero also making his resolves shake under his feet.

He stretched his arm out to your cheek, careful not to wake you up.

He left a soft kiss to your temple before leaving your house.

-----

You woke up to a persistent ring of your doorbell.

You felt terrible...your hair was a mess, your nose was all clogged up and your eyes burned from all the crying.

You opened your door with annoyance, mad at whoever decided to burst your sadness bubble.

"Hey doll, I would've let myself in but my hands are kinda busy"

Your boyfriend stood there with a backpack on his shoulder and a carton box in his hands.

"So...do you happen to have a room to spare for a year or two...maybe three?"

You stare in disbelief your hand covering your mouth.

"I know that me being a villain might be a setback but...I got some hair dye? I might even consider letting you fix my jigsaw face."

Your body crashed into his, the box dropping to the ground as you squeezed your arms around him.

Maybe he can make you as happy as you make him.

You knew he was rough around the edges, but you never even imagined that you would be the one his rage would be directed at.

As soon as insults came crashing your way you left the room.

You were just trying to calm him down, placing your hand on his shoulder as you urged him to stop shouting and just let it go.

His rough hands grabbed yours, throwing your hand away like you were a mere fly, his quirk burning your skin.

You tried calling out to him just for him to snap around and scream at you.

Once you reached your dorm tears freely rolled down your cheeks.

You yearned for a normal relationship, longed for some peace and quiet just for a week or two.

Yet you just couldn't let the blonde go, always hoping for some miracle to come your way and take ahold of his ego.

--------

It's around 2 am and he can't fall asleep for the hell of it.

You're not picking up his calls nor answering his texts and you've been inactive on social media for hours.

Kirishima has been urging him to go to your dorm for two hours already, spamming him massages about him not being manly enough to win you back.

It's not like he doesn't want to, he just has no idea how to. Should he get you something? Get you some food and flowers? Where the fuck can he find all these things at 2 am? Isn't that how people in movies apologize or something...

He hates when you're mad at him, he is scared shitless of actually scaring you off and pushing you away.

A knock at your door snaps you out of your thoughts and a small flame of hope warms your heart for a split second as you make your way to your door.

He's holding a gray hoodie and a pair of bento boxes.

"That's not gonna fix it Katsuki."

"I know shitty woman you didn't even give me a chance to speak!"

You're sure that that's the first time Bakugou said the word "sorry" in his whole life.

The way it rolled off his tongue was shaky but somewhat determined, his hand grabbing ahold of yours gently.

Guilt was evident on his face as he stroked the bandages covering your hands.

"It's not that bad Katsu, and I understand that it was an accident." you mumbled trying to pull from his grip so he can focus on something else.

He grabbed ahold of your wrists, bringing your palms to his lips.

"I'll work on it, I promise. It'll never happen again. I mean it." you just give a soft nod, leading him to the table.

"Good. Now let's eat, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" you cheered, opening the bentos and stuffing your mouth with rice.

"Y/N...it's 4 am."

"Exactly, now eat, you're not gonna let me eat all of this by myself?!"

For this man, it was close to impossible to make his s/o cry.

He cherishes the relationship he has with you, making you feel special every single day at a time.

So when he sees you crying, he's confused and alarmed.

He reaches for you, trying his best to give you the comfort he thinks you need.

When you push his hands away and scream at him...Oh boy...

He's terrified.

Did he do something? Did he forget your anniversary? Your birthday? Did he eat your snack from the fridge??

You're pulling at the strands of your hair, your head buried into your knees as you sob.

He looks around, eyes widening when he sees a photo of himself and some girl kissing on the screen of your phone.

He wasn't there? He has proof! He was in a meeting! All of his colleagues could confirm that, he just needs you to listen! Please listen to him.

He's talking...blabbering...begging for you to just look at him.

As soon as you look up for a split second, he's hugging you, smothering your face in kisses as you weakly try to push him away.

Finally he leans his forehead against yours, letting out a long sigh of relief when he realizes that you're not crying anymore.

"Please Shouta, please, if you even have any respect for me, don't lie to me." you mumble out coldly, turning your head from him.

"Y/N, I would never, ever do that to you! Never! I love you so much, please, you have to know that, you do know that!"

You're too stubborn, but he calls all of his colleges one by one, putting them on speaker for you, asking about the time of the meeting or details of the meeting and they all have the same answer.

So now, your throat is dry and there's a lump in your throat, guilt eating at you as you try to apologize.

He couldn't give two shits about any of that, all he has to know is that you're okay and that you're still his.

He's not letting you go for the rest of the day, you're wrapped under the blankets with him as he makes sure you never believe the bullshit you see online.

"Sweetheart if I ever cheat on you, that's the day I cut my own dick off and bleed to death."

It makes you giggle and then laugh hysterically and he's just looking at you with the biggest heart eyes 🥺

Izuku would never do anything to make you cry.

He pays attention to every single detail in your relationship and he especially pays attention to your feelings.

What he is really bad at, is taking care of himself.

He doesn't take in consideration how you feel when he comes home all stitched up and tired, or how he stays up late to train and push himself further than his body can take.

However one day, he is exhausted from his training and he barely has any strength left. His phone rings and he is rushing out the door, already panting.

You don't reach him in time to stop him, so here you are, hours later next to his hospital bed.

The villain wasn't too powerful, but his state caused him to pass out in the middle of the bettle field.

As soon as he wakes up, you're yelling at him, but at the same time sobbing against his chest.

"I can't just stand here and watch you hurt yourself Zuku... I can't, I can't, I can't....O-one of these days you're just gonna slip away from my hands, I can't. Please" You're grip on him softens as you loose the strength in your hands.

His arms wrap themselves around you, trying his best not to flinch as you rub against his bandages.

His eyes are watering, realization dawning on him as he holds your tired body against him.

You're right...He sees the state of himself after a lowlife villain with a pathetic quirk sent him into the hospital. He doesn't even want to think about what would've happened if there was someone much stronger out there.

"Hey Y/N...I-...I might take a week off, to rest yeah? Does that sound good?"

You nod, wiping away the tears as you sniffle.

"And you won't be training at night anymore. And you won't be staying up late!" you scold as he rubs your cheeks.

"I won't. I promise." he places a kiss at your temple, pulling you onto the hospital bed next to him.

"Let's sleep for a bit yeah? I might owe you a few hours..."

You're crying, he's crying.

He's down on one knee and he's stuttering, his hands shaking as he hears you cry out a happy "Yes".

He barely gets the ring on your finger, burying his head into your neck as soon as he gets to his feet.

You always thought that he was going to propose to you at home, maybe some homecooked dinner with roses and candles. You didn't mind that option either.

You were surprised that he even suggested a walk in the park.

I mean, it was a really small park with little to no people in the area but it was beautiful nonetheless.

You're all giddy and happy as he takes your hand in his, his eyes always glancing at the ring on your finger.

Once you spot an ice cream stand you leap in happiness, rushing to get ice cream for the both of you.

The lady selling it smiles brightly at you.

"Is that the lucky guy?" you nod grabbing your icecream as Tamaki hides behind you.

"Good job sweetheart, you're making this lady very happy, I can feel it in my old bones" you laugh at her remark as you nudge Tamaki forward.

She hands him his ice cream and winks at him.

He's blushing and thanking the lady before running off to an empty bench.

”He’s a lil’ shy but he's got the spirit” you say to the lady as you rush off to get him.

You take the time to really study the ring, the beautiful blue crystal shining in the sun.

”I...I hope you l-like it...Nejire helped me out. Uhm I probably shouldn't have said that...S-she-"

"I like it Tama...I love it actually" you place a gentle kiss just at the corner of his lips, his hands grabbing your cheeks and kissing you deeply in return.

His cheeks are warm and his lips are slow against yours but you melt against him, letting him place you in his lap.

"Oh my God, I have a fiancé, oh my God, I have to call Mirio and tell him you said yes. You said yes, right?"

You laugh as you shake your head at him, playing with his hair as he fumbles with his phone.

All of the pictures are from the original anime/manga (please do correct me if I'm wrong in the comments below)

The Tamaki one has no angst in it because I had to heal from all of the emotional rollercosters.

___________

requests:closed

commissions:open

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[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

A certain redheaded tabloid journalist tracks y/n down at work. Y/n finds out how persistent she is when she makes her an offer she just can’t refuse. 

Trigger warnings: Christianity, stalking, survivor’s guilt

You made it out alive, and that was more than could be said for some. 

Your consolation prize was a ghastly scar on your hand that you kept bandaged up as to not scare small children. You did get some worker’s comp after all; enough to pay for your medical bills and a little extra to make up for the lost workdays. All things considered, you were the lucky one. Four people lost their lives that day and three more were injured far worse than you. You should have felt grateful to be alive.

But somehow that was even worse. You got a couple stitches and some time off. It wasn’t worth four people’s lives. 

Your therapist explained it to you very gently. You were experiencing a phenomenon known as "survivor's guilt". She encouraged you to join a support group, get outside and familiarize yourself with your new experiences. 

This was good advice and all, but yours was the newest, hottest crime. You couldn't go anywhere without being hounded by reporters looking for whatever details you had somehow left out. Dr. Bloom encouraged you to take some time off work until the media circus died down, but you had bills to pay.

"I feel like there should be some rule about re-opening a restaurant within a week of it being an active crime scene." Charissa observed as she wiped down a table. "If anything, it's a health hazard."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed. You'd been tasked with refilling the salt shakers. Appropriate, because there was plenty of salt to go around. "Demand for this place has never been higher. Everyone wants to see if the blood is still on the carpet."

"Hooray for capitalism." She rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna be okay, [F/N]?"

"'Okay' is a very relative term." You forced a laugh. "I think I can make it through the shift if that's what you're asking."

"Aren't you behind the bar all evening?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that means I'm trapped." You folded your arms. "First thing you see when you walk in is the waitress who survived the- what are they calling him?"

"The Baltimore Butcher." She answered with a voice full of vitriol. "Do you think they ever consider the ramifications of giving literal murderers these weird superhero names? Like, no wonder we get copycats, they treat these guys like celebrities."

"Holy shit, right?!" You slammed the salt shaker down on the table. "Y'know, last night on the news, they used the creep's graduation photo and kept saying that he was a good Christian young man with a lot of prospects."

Charissa stuck out her tongue in disgust. "I saw that. And how he was 'corrupted' by crack cocaine. Once again, blaming a drug that was used to villainize poor Black neighborhoods in the 80's as some kind of corrupting agent."

You nodded furiously. "Instead of understanding that Christianity is a violent imperialist religion that lets violent white men absolve themselves of any guilt."

"And they knew it wasn't crack." Charissa added. "I heard that shit was completely uncut. You know he spent a lot on it."

"And I will say this until the day I am put in the goddamn ground," you tensed up. "The only reason the fucker escaped is because he is white."

"Hey y'all." Another waitress walked in for her shift. "What are we talking about?"

"Cocaine." Charissa answered. “Also white privilege.” 

"Great." She said dismissively. "Hey [F/N], can I scoop up that bar shift? I could really use the tips."

"Madison!" Charissa scolded. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What?" Madison shrugged and glanced at you. "I didn't get any paid time off. I need the money."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Charissa scowled. "Are you seriously joking about her trauma?!"

"It's fine, she can have it." You rolled your eyes, then turned them to Madison. "Just know you're the reason I have survivor's guilt."

"Well now I feel bad." Madison frowned.

"Good." You and Charissa said in unison.

It was sort of comforting to get back to the script. Almost nostalgic. It provided the illusion of normalcy in an incredibly abnormal new reality. 

You approached the first table in Madison’s block, hoping for a new beginning. A young woman with fiery red hair sat alone by the window. 

“Hi!” You greeted, with a smile as genuine as you could muster. “My name is [F/N], I’ll be your waiter tonight.” 

The woman smiled back. “Evening.” 

You couldn’t tell what, but something was off. Perhaps you were trying too hard to force normalcy. Or maybe it was the borderline predatory way the woman was looking at you; like a shark following a trail of blood. Either way, the vibes were rancid. 

“Can I start you off with a drink or is water okay?” You ask. 

“Could I possibly trouble you for a glass of chardonnay?” She asked, lowering her eyebrows. 

“Of course.” You nodded and reached for your pen. 

“Actually,” She corrected herself. “If you could bring a bottle and two glasses, I’m expecting company.” 

“Absolutely.” You scribble the order down on your notepad. “Do you have a preference?” 

She thought for a moment. “Oh, dealer’s choice. Whatever you prefer.” 

You soon returned to her booth with a bottle of your favorite chardonnay and two stemmed glasses. You poured a small bit in one glass to let her taste. 

“You have wonderful tastes.” She complimented, filling her glass. “It’s very delicious.” 

You rocked on your heels. “Would you like to place your order now, or do you want to wait until after your guest arrives?” 

“Actually,” she repeated, filling the other glass. “My guest is already here.” 

She slid the glass across the table and gestured to the other seat. 

You felt stupid, but there was no way to avoid this. You couldn't just not do your job. She cornered you by the confinements of your profession.

"I really can't, I'm on the clock." You said, apologetically. The wine beckoned you. "I'm sorry, maybe another time."

"Oh, bummer." The woman placed her chin in her hand and pouted. "Well, I'm sure there's something that would make your boss look the other way."

She glanced down at your bandaged hand, then met your eyes. "The bandages are a dead giveaway, [F/N] [L/N]."

You then noticed a wire sticking from her pocket. Undoubtedly some kind of recording device. You looked at the ground. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

"But who will drink all this wine?" She asked, raising her glass.

"Ma'am." Your voice hardened as you tried to bite back an overwhelming rage. "Please leave the restaurant. I'm not going to ask you again."

Your manager, Matthew, passed by. "What's going on here?"

"This waitress is being very rude." The woman complained. "I ordered chardonnay, and she brought me chablis."

"Chablis is a type of chardonnay." You corrected. Even you found it strange that this was the hill you were willing to die on. "She asked for my preference, and I prefer the unoaked varieties."

Matthew looked confused. "Well, she's right."

You gestured to her pocket and he caught on immediately. He narrowed his eyes. "Ma'am, please leave the premises or I'll be forced to call the police."

The woman stood up, rummaged through her pockets and slapped a handful of bills down on the table. She then proceeded to drink both glasses of wine and walk away.

Matthew looked at you apologetically as he collected the bills. "Are you sure you want to be here tonight? I can call in someone to cover for you."

You shook your head and grabbed the bottle by its neck. "No, it's okay. I appreciate the concern but I really just want things to go back to normal."

"Hey!" A woman from the adjacent table called out. You prepared to immediately recant your statement about not going home.

"We like chablis." The woman said, gesturing to herself and her friend.

Her friend joined in. "And if that nosy reporter lady isn't gonna drink it..."

You glanced at Matthew, who shrugged. "Sure. It's yours."

The women exchanged delighted looks as you placed the bottle on their table. Matthew handed you a couple of clean glasses and you began to pour.

"For this wine, I suggest any of our wonderful seafood dishes." You explained, your cheeks stinging with a smile. "It also pairs quite nicely with chicken and game bird."

"Thank you." One of the women said. "If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look at the menu, please."

"Of course." You nodded. "Just flag me down whenever you're ready."

"This is why I put you behind the bar, by the way." Matthew gently scolded you as you collected the soiled glasses.

"Didn't you hear?" You said. "Madison needs the money because we can't all have paid time off."

"You should have come to me first." He sighed. "She has no right to say those things to you."

"Never stopped her before." You shrugged.

"I'll talk with her after the dinner rush." He said. "Just... try not to get cornered tonight, okay?"

"I'll do my best." You answered, flatly. “Because that’s definitely something I can control.” 

The rest of your shift went smoothly, or, as smoothly as could be expected given the circumstances. The nosy reporter was right, your bandage was a dead giveaway. You had to dodge a couple of questions, but most people had enough decorum to know the wound--metaphorical and literal--was still fresh. 

You said goodbye to Matthew and Charissa, collected your things and walked out to your car. You put the key in the ignition, only to find your gas tank was completely empty. You had just filled it that morning. 

You bit back a scream and fought the urge to slam your head against the steering wheel. Throwing the door open, you mentally prepared yourself to either make a long trek to the nearest gas station, or beat someone up.

“Looking for this?” A smug voice said over the cicadas. 

You turned around and saw the nosy reporter from before holding up a canister. A deep, blistering fury overtook your face as you slammed the car door. “You siphoned my fucking gas?” 

 “It’s not like you left me with much choice, [F/N].” She crossed her arms. “You’ll get it back once you answer my questions.” 

You threw your head back in disbelief. “You’re Freddie Lounds, aren’t you?” 

“I see I’m not the only one who does my research.” She said, looking a bit impressed. “How’d you know?” 

“It’s the first thing that comes up when you search ‘unethical crime journalists Baltimore’.” You answered. “There’s a whole flair dedicated to you on the subreddit for murder survivors.” 

Freddie seemed proud of herself. “Need a ride?” 

“I’d rather drive off a cliff.” You said, honestly, before turning around to leave. 

“Where are you going?” She walked after you. 

“To get more fucking gas, you evil bitch.” You shouted back. “Are you gonna follow me to the BP too?” 

“Look, I heard what you were saying to your friend.” She called out. “About white privilege.”

“Yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “It’s the same privilege that allows you to siphon a stranger’s gas and sit in a parking lot all night without getting arrested.”

“And I agree with you.” She hurried to your side, her chunky platform boots clacking against the asphalt. “They did you dirty and they’re shooting themselves in the foot by not listening to you.” 

You turned around and threw up your arms. “Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

“I invited you to sit down over a bottle of wine, did I not?” Freddie chuckled. 

“Cornering me at work is not a gesture of goodwill.” You huffed. “And I actually do want to put my story out there, but all you’re accomplishing by stalking me is guaranteeing you won’t be the one to do it.” 

“Are you really in a position to be that selective?” Freddie smirked and placed all her weight on one hip. 

You groaned. “What?” 

“The Baltimore Butcher is still out there, and you won’t be the hot new victim forever.” She grinned sadistically. “Soon enough, him or some other psycho is going to strike, and your fifteen minutes of fame are up.” 

“Good. Then I can go back to living my life.” You said. 

“But what if his next victim is a Christian?” Freddie grabbed your shoulder. “What if the next person who narrowly avoids getting their throat slashed decides to go on record and say that he doesn’t represent ‘real Christianity’?” 

You went quiet. You hadn’t considered it, but the thought of anyone downplaying his faith as a motivation made your blood boil. You looked into the man’s eyes and saw a person driven to kill for his god. A god he shared with the crusaders, conquistadors and slavers. 

“...but it does. Christians colonized half the planet for--” 

You stopped yourself when you saw Freddie’s smile. 

“You want to get on your soapbox, now’s your chance.” She bit her lip. “Take control of the conversation while you still can.” 

“Fine.” You spat. “I get off work tomorrow at four.” 

Freddie shoved the gas can into your hands. “I’ll see you then.” 

[hawkinsindiana]

this changes things

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER FOUR OF ELEVEN (!!)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 2.3k

a/n: we’re back to eleven chapters baby!!!! this one ended up being longer than i thought. i know i usually post on friday nights, but i couldn’t help but give you all a lil valentine’s day treat. pls enjoy!!!!

masterlist

Steve’s nervous. 

It’s down to the wire; there's only a few short weeks left of his final high school semester. Four out of five college applications have been rejected. Each one received has fed the anxiety more and more. 

Every day that passes without a lick of news from the remaining university has him reconsidering everything. His education. His career. His future.

The only thing Steve knows about his future is that he wants you in it, in whichever form that might be. You’re the constant. Without you, he’s afraid he’d eventually go back to being that person he was before. You make him want to be better. Trying to be worthy of you gives Steve purpose. 

He imagined that getting a college education would help keep him on that path. It seems farther away with each rejection letter he receives. 

Steve hasn’t told you that he hasn’t gotten into any so far. He’s afraid of disappointing you, especially after everything you’ve done for him. 

The spring of ‘85 has been particularly unforgiving. It’s been storming all week - the air still hangs with that familiar smell of rain soaked concrete. You read that the Hawkins Post reported a record amount of rainfall; the local stream overflowed and flooded a few basements. 

The mail is still damp when Steve retrieves it after practice. It sticks to his fingers as he shuffles through each envelope, drying his sneakers on the welcome mat. 

And then his eyes linger on one addressed to him; Steve nearly drops his backpack when he sees who sent it. 

Haphazardly, he tosses the rest of the mail onto the kitchen counter as he contemplates whether to even open the damn thing. Steve’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Is it an answer he wants?

Whatever the words inside this parcel read, it changes Steve’s life forever. His future is planned from the moment he breaks the seal - there would be no going back. Either he stays here in Hawkins, trapped by an education he neglected for far too long, or he gets to take a step to distance himself from this shitty town and prove his worth. 

Steve isn’t a fan of the former option.

He wishes you were here to read it for him. He’d rather you tell him the news; hearing it come from your lips would make it easier. 

By the time Steve decides to open it, a few minutes have passed. Why does this feel like the scariest thing he’s ever done?

Due to the water, some of the ink bled through the paper; pieces of the letter are illegible. But at the top, a familiar phrase answers his question: Unfortunately, we regret to inform you-

Steve curses, angrily throwing the envelope and its contents into the trash. He refuses to read anymore. 

He has no one to blame but himself. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry. There were multiple opportunities for him to change course and put effort into his schoolwork. By the time he finally tried, it was too late. 

Thunder booms in the distance once Steve parks his car beside your mother’s. He doesn’t remember deciding to come here; the only thing he can recall is grabbing the keys, without a destination in mind. His heart brought him to your warmth. 

As Steve gets out of the car, he wonders if this was maybe a bad idea. It isn’t very often that he feels afraid to face you - he’s scared of your reaction, and the outcome that could follow.

He knew that he could love you, that he could fall just as hard as you did for him. But admitting it to himself, and then you - he doesn’t know if he has the strength to do it again. That phrase has left a sour taste in his mouth, one that Steve hopes he can wash away. Because you deserve to hear it too. 

Maybe he’s closer to saying it than he thought, perhaps that’s why he’s so scared to tell you. Maybe-

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Dustin’s voice startles Steve, who turns to see the boy walking his bike up the driveway. Steve fumbles his response, head spinning with thoughts about you, “I don’t, uh-”

Dustin interrupts him, not noticing the nerves Steve displays, “Hey, you should come in! It’s mac ‘n cheese night.” 

Steve hangs his head in defeat, knowing that he’s going to follow your brother inside. He can’t say no to this kid. 

Dustin hangs up his raincoat once the pair of them enter the house; the bell on Tews’ collar jingles as they run to greet the boys. The kitten weaves between Steve’s legs before he kneels down to give them a few pets. 

“That you, Dusty?” Your mother calls from within; clattering silverware echoes from the kitchen. Steve chuckles at the nickname. Dustin punches him in the bicep. 

He kicks off his shoes as he replies, “Hey Mom! Get out another bowl - look who I found loitering around.” 

Steve scoffs, shoving Dustin as they walk forward through the threshold into the living room. Your mom moves to welcome them; her warm smile widens when she sees Steve by her son’s side, “Well look who it is! Steve, sweetheart, how are you?”

He’s baffled by her every time he shares a meal with your family. Her kind soul is infectious, and drastically different from the parents he was raised by. Steve tries not to think about the fact her beloved pet is secretly buried out back - he’s reminded of it whenever he sees her. 

“I’m good, Mrs. Henderson. How are you?” Steve answers, returning her grin. She envelops him in a quick hug, “How many times am I going to have to tell you? Just call me Claudia, hon.”

Steve laughs along with her as he follows her to the kitchen, “I think you’ll need to remind me one more time.”

And then his eyes meet yours from across the room. They smile nearly as much as your lips at the sight of him; your heart flutters at this unexpected surprise. 

When you catch onto the sadness in his expression, the corners of your mouth drop. It’s obvious to you that something’s wrong. Steve doesn’t usually stop by without an invitation; something must’ve happened. 

Throughout dinner, you take mental notes on his deflated behavior. It’s subtle enough to fool your family, but you know him better. With each minute that passes, the more anxious you become to hear the cause. So when he volunteers to help you with the dishes, as he always does, you know it’s only a matter of time. 

“How was practice?” You ask before drying off a cup. Steve takes it from your hand as he replies, “Uh, it was good. Although it’s annoying that we’re still practicing even though the season’s over.”

You hum in agreement as he places the glass on the shelf. Steve glances back at you briefly, “What about you? What’d you get up to?”

A beat passes - you’re looking for the words to describe your afternoon. Maybe not the words, but the courage. It’s only when he turns around, brow creased, do you answer him. 

“I studied at Nancy’s,” You say. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, “Oh yeah? How’d that go?”

You nod your head, focusing your gaze onto the floor, “It was nice, actually. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.”

“Now when you say studying…” He trails off for a moment as he thinks, “You two didn’t… exchange notes about me or anything, did you?”

Steve’s growing smirk makes you laugh; you hit him playfully with the towel, “No! And I haven’t told her, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

A part of him can’t help but be relieved. There’s no limit to what you two could chat about.

“We just ended up talking about college most of the time,” You add, “She wanted to know some tips since she’ll be applying soon.”

Steve grabs a plate to dry; in order to try and quell his anxiety, he has to do something productive. But your mind recognizes it as a distraction - you’re no stranger to coping mechanisms. 

“Have you figured out where you’re gonna go yet?” He questions, praying your answer isn’t far; lightning flashes outside the kitchen window, followed closely by the low rumble of thunder. 

You sigh as you lean back against the counter, “I’m not sure. Nancy was helping me talk through my options earlier, but it’s such a big decision to make. I wanna make sure it’s the right fit.”

Steve nods slightly, forehead creasing as he wipes his hands on the towel. And by the way he clenches his jaw at your reply, you know that this is the source of contention. 

You nudge his leg with your foot, “What about you? Get any responses back?”

The breath hitches in Steve’s throat; there’s no way this conversation doesn’t end with his reveal. The longer it takes for him to speak, the more concerned you grow. 

“I, uh-“ A sigh passes his lips as he grips the counter, keeping his focus away from you. He doesn’t want to witness your reaction. 

“I didn’t get in,” Steve mutters. He exhales, shaking his head in disbelief; until now, it almost didn’t seem real. It took admitting it to you for his brain to accept it. 

You shift on your feet, unsure of what to say. Over the past few weeks, you and Steve had been discussing how your relationship would persist once you both had made your college commitments. This wasn’t an outcome either of you prepared for. 

“Holy shit, Steve. I’m sorry…” You whisper. Steve pushes his face into his hands; his voice is muffled from behind his palms, “Yeah, yeah… holy shit.” 

You don’t hesitate any more to comfort him. Steve straightens as you place your hands on his arms; he melts into your touch, unable to prevent you from turning his body to face yours. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine,” You reassure him, “College isn’t the only option, you know. There are other things you could do.” 

The expression on Steve’s face breaks your heart. You’d do anything to wipe it away and brighten his mood. But Steve just sighs again, appreciating your efforts to help him, but nothing seems to be working. 

“How’d your parents react?” You ask. The only thing keeping Steve grounded to this moment is the firm grip you have on his shoulders; he thinks he’d float away without it. 

He scoffs a bit; the sound breaks the deafening silence that formed as he thought of a response. His eyes are still focused downwards as he finally answers you, “They don’t know yet. I just got the last letter today. I couldn’t think of going anywhere else.”

When your fingers brush against his cheek, Steve instinctively moves his hands to rest on your waist, “I’m sorry, I just-”

Steve finally lifts his head. Your eyes are wide, pupils filled to the brim with nothing but your fondness for him. All of a sudden, he’s confused why he was so scared to tell you. He realizes that he never should’ve doubted you. 

“I was scared this would change things. Or that you’d be disappointed in me or some shit.”

Your brow furrows as you laugh softly - baffled by his words, “What could ever make you think that I’d be disappointed in you?” 

A flash of previous memories answers your own question. You decide not to pull on that thread anymore. 

“This changes things,” You mutter. Your eyeline drops as you pause, choosing your words carefully before continuing, “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Finally, Steve feels a bit of relief. The sincerity in your voice calms the fear, and a deep exhale allows him to let it go. Your compassion and understanding permits him to begin thinking clearly again. He knew there was a reason he came here. 

You’re right though. This does change how you both navigate the future. But with you here to support him, Steve figures he’ll be just fine. 

“I mean…” The corner of your mouth curls up at the thought that pops into your head, “The only way my opinion of you changes is if you killed my brother or something like that.”

Steve chuckles slightly, “But Mike’s still fair game?”

“Oh yeah, go ahead,” You quip, “He’s had it comin’ for a while.” 

Even though your voices are hushed, the joke still makes you crack a pair of brilliant smiles; it almost makes Steve forget about his future for a moment. Standing here in your arms, Steve can’t help but realize how safe he feels. 

And then you sigh, reaching up to brush back a lock of his brunette hair - the sensation of your touch fills Steve with something new, something different. A direct contrast to the violent storm brewing outside, this is soft, warm, and golden. Like daylight.

Your eyes meet again. Honestly, he’s not sure he ever wants to look at anything else. 

Your hand lands on his chest, “This doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Steve throws caution to the wind - he kisses you. And already, you can tell that this is one you’ll remember. His lips are soft against yours, but without sacrificing an ounce of passion. You almost forget that someone could walk in and expose your relationship; when Steve finally pulls away, it doesn’t matter anyways.

As if you weren’t left breathless enough from his kiss, the words he mutters afterwards could’ve done it themselves. 

With one of his trademark smirks plastered across his face, Steve moves to hold your head between his palms, “Fuck, I love you.”

You kiss him again so quickly that you both didn’t have enough time to wipe the twinkling grins from your lips. Your noses are squished against each other, but neither of you cares enough. Your shared love dulls the pain. 

Steve smiles into the kiss even further. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

—   taglist: @djjarin / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

if you want be added to the taglist, just lemme know!

[detectivereyes]

I Want to Hold You Like You’re Mine

Summary: TK gets lonely in the ER.

Notes: idk if anyone is going to really read this because everyone is kinda distracted with the new episode and the promo for next week but yeah. this idea wouldn’t leave my head so now you get to read it too.

title from “agnes” by glass animals 

beta’d by @marjansmarwani

read on ao3

Watching the bustling waiting room, TK nervously twiddles his thumbs. He’s spent far too much time getting to know the emergency room at St. David’s that when he closes his eyes, he can picture the entire layout.

And yet, he somehow found himself back here again.

It wasn’t exactly his fault though. Granted, he could have been a little more careful going up the ladder on the truck. But the situation was getting urgent and he was so focused on getting to the top of the ladder that he didn’t even notice when his right foot got caught on one of the rungs and twisted his ankle in the wrong direction.

Which is how he ended up sitting in the waiting room yet again, his right ankle elevated on the chair across from him and the now melted ice pack resting on the swollen joint. He knows that he could just ask someone for a new one, but he’s been here long enough that they should be calling his name any moment now.

However as the minutes tick on, he gets more and more restless, and he wishes that there was someone here to talk to and take his mind off the persistent ache in his ankle. There had been some discussion about someone from his team staying with him but he had insisted that there was no real reason for the team to be two members down for something as minor as what’s probably only a sprained ankle. And of course, the 126 was called to another scene before it could be discussed further.

After Tommy dropped him off at the ER entrance, he thought he would be okay. However, on this abnormally busy day at the hospital, he only gets lonelier as he waits for his name to be called.

His loneliness getting the best of him, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoots a quick text to Carlos.

TK: are you busy?

He doesn’t even have shut the messages app before he sees the typing dots appear on his text thread.

Carlos: I’m on a call right now, but I can call you in a few minutes?

Of course. TK knew Carlos was working today, he should have known better than to bother him.

TK: nevermind, forgot you were on shift. it’s okay. 

He shuts off the device, only for it to light up again with Carlos’ name in the call ID. TK frowns, hitting the red decline button. His boyfriend should be focusing on his job, not needing to worry about how accident prone TK is.

His phone lights up again, and he declines it again.

By the third time it lights up, TK sighs in resignation and presses the green accept button.

“Hey Carlos,” TK greets with his best cheery voice and fake smile.

“TK, you denied my call twice. You do not get to ‘hey Carlos’ me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, I forgot you were working today,” TK answers quickly. “I can talk to you later”

“It’s clearly something. Just tell me TK,” Carlos says, pausing while he waits for TK to answer. 

TK wonders if it’s worth it to explain the situation to his boyfriend. He knows that as soon as he tells him, that the other man will drop everything to come be by his side. And while the companionship would be welcome, he would feel guilty pulling Carlos away from his job.

Unfortunately, he waits too long to answer and Carlos speaks up again. “Wait, aren’t you on shift today too?”

“Well, yeah..”

“TK, where are you?” he firmly asks.

TK can tell he’s beginning to put the pieces together. The ambient noises of the waiting room are no doubt filtering through his phones speaker, not to mention the red flags it raises that TK is calling him while on shift to begin with.

“That’s not really relevant,” he says, trying to shift away from the topic.

“You’re at the hospital, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, TK. Okay,” Carlos says, and TK can hear him mumble something in the background before coming back to the phone. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“That’s not really necessary,” TK tries to wave him off before Carlos cuts him off.

“Is anyone with you?”

“No,” he trails off.

“Then I’m coming.”

TK smiles to himself. He knows at this point there’s no talking Carlos out of it, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing the other man. “Okay, I’m still in the waiting room.”

“See you soon.”

The call disconnects, and TK cycles through the apps on his phone while he waits for Carlos to arrive, periodically looking up at the sliding glass doors of the emergency room entrance.

Eventually, Carlos does make his appearance in the waiting room, still in uniform and face flushed as he scans the area before meeting TK’s eye.

TK gives him a little wave and small smile, greeting his boyfriend with a kiss when Carlos takes a seat next to him.

“Hey, what happened?” Carlos asks, trying to mask the concern in his voice but TK still picks up on it.

TK explains the situation, watching as Carlos’ eyebrows furrow in worry as he processes the story. When TK finishes, Carlos smirks a little before speaking up. “I thought you making the transition to being a paramedic was supposed to be less dangerous.”

“It’s not my fault they needed a medic up there, and I have more experience on the ladder than Tommy or Nancy.”

“Clearly,” Carlos stifles a laugh, gesturing to TK’s ankle while the other man gently swats him. Leaning down, Carlos removes the ice pack to further inspect the swollen joint. “TK, this ice pack isn’t very cold.”

“Yeah, I’ve been here a while,” he shrugs.

Carlos presses his lips together, before getting up, ice pack in hand, and making his way over to the reception desk. TK watches as the other man exchanges a few words with the nurse sitting at the desk. After their brief exchange, Carlos returns with a fresh ice pack which he places gently on TK’s ankle.

“The nurse says they should be calling you back next,” he says with a smile.

“Thank you,” TK says softly, returning the smile.

True to his word, just a few minutes later his name is called and Carlos is helping him transition into a wheelchair to be wheeled back to an exam room. 

After being poked and prodded, and an x-ray just to confirm it’s nothing more major, the doctor verifies Tommy’s initial diagnosis that it’s just a bad sprain. He’s given a sturdy black brace, a pair of silver crutches, and strict instructions to take the next few weeks off work.

That last note causes a pout to settle on TK’s face as the doctor exits the exam room. 

“Hey,” Carlos catches his attention, rest his hand on top of TK’s own. “It’ll be fine. Tommy will understand.”

“I’ve barely been on the job for a week, and I already have to call out. Not a great reflection.”

“Well she’s been working out your house for a few months, so I think she knows to expect that her newest paramedic is also a danger magnet,” Carlos chuckles.

“Yeah, I guess,” TK sighs.

Carlos gently runs his hand through TK’s hair, knowing that it calms the other man down. “You ready to get out of here?”

TK nods. “Can you just drop me off back at the station?”

“I thought I would just take you home. You should probably rest and ice your ankle a little more.”

“There’s ice at the station,” TK says with a mischievous grin, only to be met with Carlos’ unwavering expression. “I just would rather be around the team that sitting at home alone while you finish your shift.”

“TK, my shift ended 30 minutes ago.”

“Shit, Carlos,” he looks up meeting the other man's eye. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to get pulled away for this long. I hope you don’t get into trouble.” “It’s fine, I told my captain what was going on after you called and she let me go. I wasn’t planning on going back anyway.”

TK smiles, wondering how he got so lucky to have a boyfriend this caring that he really would drop everything to spend a few long hours in the emergency room with him. 

“Now, why don’t we get out of here, yeah?”

He nods eagerly, letting Carlos help him off the bed and graciously accepting the crutches the other man hands to him. “Thank you,” he whispers to Carlos with a smile, before making their way out of the hospital.

[rrickgrrimes8]

Can I get rick grimes x gender neutral reader

The reader was an elite solider in the U.S army when the virus happened. They been traveling the South for five ½ years alone. So now they landed in Georgia when the Saviors and Rick Group are at war. One day Rick is attacked by the Saviors, but the reader saves Rick from the Saviors with a rifle but escapes before Rick ever notices. Days later the reader meets Rick (like how Jesus met Rick.) But Rick captures the reader and interrogates him. In the end Reader reveals how he saved Rick. Rick then forces the reader work/live with the group even though the real.

A Soldier ~ Rick Grimes imagine

hey sorry for the delay ive been super busy coz i just started school back after isolating and i’ve been doing exams all week

also for anyone else who requested i’ll try and complete them soon really sorry please remember i haven’t forgotten about yall i’m just busy

anyways @iawaythrown hope you like this thank you for requesting

let me know if there’s any mistakes so i can fix it thank you x

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

The sun had set hours earlier but that didn’t stop you. Unrelenting you continued through the heat and the exhaustion. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything you had gone through. Even before this, you wouldn’t allow yourself to stop. Being one of America’s pride and joys serving as a respected sergeant. You had served 10 years before the world went to shit and it made you laugh now. You always thought that the meaning of your life - the purpose - was to protect and serve against threats to the U.S.A. If only you knew that your greatest threat was against the dead now living. You were grateful, more than anything. You had a lot more in this world than others did. And now 5 1/2 years later you were still going. Never stopping. Not for anything.

 Except... when you caught wind of a certain curly-haired man. He was being attacked and was substantially outmanned. You thought the best use of your time was to protect people just like you had in your previous life. The man was cornered now by the time you’d made the decision to help him. Three men dressed in leather charged him with any weapon they could find. He fought against them - to the best of his ability. Which seemed to be skilled at least. You gripped your trusty rifle, aimed the scope and without hesitation fired. 

One man fell. 

Then the next. 

And then the last. 

The blue-eyed man scoured the area for you, curious about the location of the shots. You, however, were smarter than that. You didn’t know this man. You didn’t know if he deserved what those men would’ve done to him but you did know trust is to be earned in this world not given carelessly. You ducked away out of his vision. But you never strayed far from the man. 

You could say curiosity got the better of you. Naturally and from a very young age, you’d always pester, investigate, fight for answers when they really weren’t warranted. Your mom used to tell you how curiosity killed the cat but you preferred to say it saved the cat. Being curious never hurt anyone and it certainly came as an advantage to you. When meeting people you knew how to hide, how to watch. And yes it may be creepy but it was necessary. You weren’t stupid, far from it, so why stop your ways now? 

The man didn’t return back to a camp after the attack - one that you knew he had due to his clean and well-presented appearance. He continued through the area, meeting up with a tall brooding man accompanied with a crossbow. The two seemed close. Although despite how few words conversed between them, you knew they were. If either of them fell into some trouble the other protected. They were family - maybe not blood - but no doubt in your mind we’re they like brothers. 

It had been days now and these men were still on their run. By this time you were even doubting if this was worth it but you shook off the thoughts and continued. It wasn’t your intention to draw attention to yourself. Hell, it was something you were taught against. But it happened. You, rather carelessly, stumbled across them. It all happened so fast. You saw someone in the woods - walker maybe. But at that moment you decided against your inner workings and ran. Stupidly you ran straight into this man. 

“Watch it,” He growled pushing you back slightly. They glared at you threateningly, guns were drawn. 

“Wha’ ta hell ya doin’?” The crossbowman snapped. His deep southern accent growing darker through his words. He was on edge. It being clear that interactions like this hadn’t always been a blessing. 

“Was just passing through. Calm yourself, alrigh’?” 

Unimpressed he looked to the blue-eyed man who was fixed on your stance. “You looked in a hurry. Trouble heading this way?” The man inquired warily. 

“Nah not really,” You paused looking back to the area, “Well maybe I'm not sure.” 

“Not sure? What's back there?” He looked at you suspiciously hand still grasped around his colt python. You didn't say anything to them as a sound overcame the atmosphere. It sounded like a twig, perhaps just a wondering dead but they didn't see the rational side. "Who are you? Who are you with?" The blue-eyed man barked edging the pistol closer to your face. 

"Hey, chill man. My names y/n, alright? And I'm not with anyone. I'm on my own, okay?" The men shared a look before turning back to you unbelievingly. You opened your mouth to justify your case but was interrupted by a smack to the side of your head. You fell to the ground, gazing at the two men still.

And then... nothing.

~

Hours later your eyes snapped open. Alert, you searched through the room. It was a cell. A traditional one with an iron gate. One you knew from past experience weren't the easiest to break out of. Especially after spotting a man floating around the exit. "Hello?" Your head burned as you spoke likely due to a concussion but you powered through it. The man stopped pacing and glared at you. He was a dark-skinned man, holding what looked like a stick. But the main thing was that he was clean. You had noticed earlier how the two men didn't look as ragged and dirty as you did. Telling you they had a home. Now seeing him proved it. 

"Hello," He said back, "Names Morgan, yours?" Your rational side shut your mouth for you. You didn't know these people. Hell, they kidnapped you. They didn't deserve your name. And you resented how you caved earlier and told those people. "Not much of a speaker, huh?" Again silence, "You didn't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you." 

Begrudgingly you responded, "I'm not afraid of you." "Your not?" "No, I'm not. Not of you. Not of those men who brought me here. Not of anyone," Morgan almost laughed at your response. 

"You're quite brave, aren’t you?" You shrugged etching a smile on his face, "you'll fit right in here." 

"Who says I want to stay?" You countered. "I have a feeling," He smirked before another person entered the room. 

"They awake?" Morgan nodded and exited. 

The blue-eyed man from earlier entered your view. No words were exchanged between the two of you. You understood he still perceived you as a threat, which you knew you very well could be. You'd do what you have to. That's what you told yourself. After years of service to the army that swam around your mind like a mantra. You'd done some horrific things for your country now and before but you didn't let it rot you to the core like your comrades. You did what you had to. There was never an exception. So if these people decided to try something you'd do what you have to. 

"Who are you?" He interrogated swiftly. Telling you that this wasn't his first rodeo. He was a cop or maybe even in the army like you. 

"I already told you," Coldly you returned. 

"Yeah well, I don't believe you," He persisted. 

"I don't entirely know what you want me to do with that," you scoffed, "I can't force you to believe me. But I know my name. I know I'm alone. I know I don't mean to bring harm to your people unless I have to." 

The man grunted. He hated how he began to believe you slightly. "Why were you running then?" 

You sighed, "I was following you." 

"You were following us?" He growled, "Why?" 

"You were attacked. Those men I killed them," You revealed, "I was curious. So I followed you. I saw a walker or maybe it was a person... I don't know. I ran and bumped into you. That's all. I have no ulterior motive." 

"Just because you tell me you have no ulterior motive doesn't make me inclined to believe you," He let out a harsh breath. 

"What more do you want, huh? Want me to do a polygraph?" 

He chuckled, "No. Of course not. But I don't trust you." 

"So let me go," You promoted. 

"I can't do that," he shook his head erratically. 

"Why not?" 

"You're valuable. If what you say is true that you did save me. Then I... we can't let that go, alright?" 

You gaped at his confession, "So you're gonna force me to stay here?" 

"Not exactly... we'd prefer if you did from your own will but if we have to," He quirked his eyebrow at you, "What do you say?" 

Sarcastically you laughed at his proposition, "You're crazy." 

"No, I'm Rick. Rick Grimes. And this," Rick gestured to your surroundings, "is Alexandria. Hopefully your new home." 

"How do you know I'm not gonna kill you all in your sleep?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his naivety. 

"I have faith that you won't. I searched you when you were out," He went into his pocket pulling out a medal you had gotten for serving in Iraq, "A soldier? I was a sheriffs deputy myself and I know I wouldn't have it in me to kill all the people in here - the children. I know you wouldn't either." 

"You're right I wouldn't but... but we're not the same, Rick. We never will be," Rick tilted his head. 

"I know," He spoke honestly, "But I feel like we're similar. You'd do a lot to save someone you'd never met. That's someone we'd like in Alexandria. Y/n you saved me. And I know you can save a lot more. So what do you say?" 

You sighed moving closer to the cell door, "Okay."

[iloveramensm]

Severus Snape Imagine - Jealousy

Imagine Snape getting jealous when students keep asking you to Hogsmeade

warnings: some mention of sexual stuff at the end but nothing in depth, jealousyyyyy, you are 18 & in your last year of hogwarts

To say you were annoyed is an understatement. you're pissed. You had been dating Snape for a few months and you were insanely in love with him. it took a bit of time for him to warm up to you but the time was worth it. 

But he was still your professor.

So your relationship stayed secret. it consisted of lot’s of “detentions” and studying in his classroom. even the rare sneaking to his room to fall asleep with him. and if you were being honest, Dumbledore 100% knew but had never seen Snape so nice so of course he didn't say anything. 

Now why are you annoyed? because boys in your year and the years below you wont stop asking you to Hogsmeade. you knew if you told them you were dating someone, the rumors would start and they'd eventually figure our it wasn’t any student. So you always declined.

Until Dean Thomas set his eyes on you. and one thing everyone knew about Gryffindors? they were determined. 

“Hey y/n!” dean catches up to your fast walking figure.

you sigh and put on a fake smile “hey dean” you try and walk faster but he keeps up with you and you decide to slow your pace down to something normal. “whats up dude”

“I was wondering if you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me? like as a date?”dean asks hopefully.

“I’m busy so i wont be going this week, sorry!” and with that you rush off to class.

- time skip, 2 weeks - 

Dean had been constantly asking you to hangout whether it was Hogsmeade or sitting next to you at lunch or in classes, And if you were being honest, him being persistent was annoying but kinda funny. So you decided to give in just a little.

“Hey dean” you say, taking a seat in your potions lesson, which happened to be led by your amazing boyfriend, Severus Snape.

“Hey y/n! whats up? have you given my offers any thought?” he throws an arm around you and you laugh, shoving his arm off of you but sitting next to him.

“look you’re a really cool guy i’m just not really focused on dating right now. but, id love to go for a Butterbeer and do some shopping as friends?” you say. 

“that sounds honestly great, im glad you want to hang out cause Seamus is getting on my nerves” he laughs and you two make small talk. you're glad he wasn’t mad about you rejecting him cause luckily he seems the type to not hold a grudge.

as you talk, unbeknownst to you, Severus Snape is glaring at the side of Dean’s head. he had heard every word

-- time skip to the end of class --

To say Snape had been an asshole that day, was not a joke. he had been calling out every single person, including you, his best student (and girlfriend). once class was over, every single house had lost at least 50 house points each and everyone rushed to leave. You stayed behind.

Once you made sure everyone was out and away from the door, you whirled around to you brooding boyfriend.

“what the fuck was that about!” you yell, casting a silencing spell on the door, just to be safe.

“i have no idea what you mean. now if that is all, you may leave my class at once.” Snape says, not looking up from his papers

“are you kidding me?”

“why would i be”

“i don’t know what crawled up your ass but you took house points away from every single house today and you NEVER do that. what is wrong with you?”

“absolutely nothing. now once again, if you're done, leave and go get ready for your Hogsmeade date with Thomas” he says curtly, spitting deans name out like it was poison

“is that was this is about? my trip with Dean?”

Severus says nothing and you smile

“are you....jealous?”

Severus looks at you with offense “absolutely not, why would i be jealous of a student?”

“Cause he can show me attention without hiding it. cause if me and him were actually together we wouldn’t have to hide it. and i know that bothers you Severus and you constantly think i should be with someone better” you claim, walking behind his desk to stand by him

“and h-how would you ev-even-” he scoffs

“you sleep talk love” you smile and push his chair around so you can straddle his lap.

“i love you Severus Snape, no one else.” Severus places his hands on your ass, supporting you as you kiss along his neck.

“and I love you y/n y/l/n”

“now, i dont have another class for the next few hours, would you like to show me who i belong to?” you smile and grind on his lap and Severus smirks.

“of course”

[fatiguing-thoughts]

Change of Heart - Paul Lahote x Reader

Request: “Hey, since you don't feel comfortable writing about the poly imprinting thing the other anon suggested, I have an idea based on what they said that maybe you could write instead. So instead of the reader imprinting on both, a reaction type of thing for when the reader had a crush on one, but falls in love with the other with time. If it is preference style, you can get to show both situations (crush on Embry, but falls for Paul later and vice versa)”

this is the crush on Embry -> falling in love with Paul version

Having a mother who was obsessed with the beach was the reason that your life turned out the way it did. 

That’s where you met your best friend, Embry Call. 

His mother worked at the souvenir shop, she frequently brought him to the beach as well. So time after time of running into each other and playing together as kids-- you grew up hanging out all the time. 

Despite you living and going to school in Forks, you guys saw each other at minimum three times a week. And as you got older, you only hung out more. Even into young adulthood.

You guys did everything together. School dances when your moms forced you into going, going to see the movies either of you were dying to watch, and simply hanging around doing nothing. It was like you were dating, but if dating meant that you were merely best friends. No kissing, the awkward touching of hands here and there. 

But overall, you and Embry connected deeper than anyone else. You would stay up talking all night, picking the brains of one another’s minds. Listening to music together, singing your favorite songs. Sometimes you stared a little too long at his lips, but that was besides the point. You guys were friends. 

I had grown quite the crush on Embry, but I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be worth risking the friendship. I could never risk anything awkward between us. I have never felt this comfortable around another person before, and I doubt that I would find it again. So holding Embry close to my heart as a best friend was an idea that I was well acquainted with. I’d grown to accept it. 

Though, as time went on, he began to gain some newer friends, which was normal. What high school boy didn’t hang out with other boys? The only issue was, it seemed to tear into your Embry time. 

It was fine, really. Embry’s happiness was my top priority. But when he finally introduced me to his friends, I’ll admit I felt pretty excited. To finally meet some new people, to find friendship in those other than Embry. 

Embry was always my best friend, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a bigger circle. He spoke so highly of them all, how could I not be thrilled to meet them? 

So when I did, I could say that I was both incredibly nervous, yet excited. 

“They’re gonna love you.” He reassures me on our way to Jake’s house. 

“How do you know that?” I ask, fiddling with the rip in my jeans.

“Because, I love you. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for. They’re gonna think you’re a lot of fun and super cool, because you are.” He smiles that signature Embry Call grin. 

Friend. Ugh. Get it together, (Y/N). 

“Thank you, Em.” I smile back.

“Of course.” 

The drive to Jacob’s was quick from Embry’s considering they both lived in La Push. Pulling up into the house, Embry led me into the garage where they were working on Jacob’s project car, the rabbit. Embry would never shut up about it, his eyes brighter than the sun whenever he talked about how much fun it was, how he enjoyed finally being able to exercise his mechanic skills. 

“Hey guys, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Jacob, Jared, Quil, and Paul. We have a few classes together.” He points at them as he says their names. 

“Hi.” I wave shyly. 

“(Y/N), I know you haven’t been here yet, but don’t worry. I’ll quickly become your favorite. Don’t stress.” Quil walks over, putting his arm around your shoulder and chuckling. 

“Oh great, thanks.” I roll my eyes. “You really weren’t kidding, Em. He’s nuts.” I giggle. 

“Wow, okay. Thanks for putting in a good word, Embry.” Quil laughs, walking back to where he stood. 

I quickly found myself growing comfortable, no wonder why Embry found good company in these guys. They were all so nice, so down to Earth. 

One in particular caught my attention, Paul. He was handsome, well built for his age. He seemed to be just as friendly as the rest, too. 

I watched as Embry and Jake worked on the engine, peering over the side of the hood. 

“Do you know anything about cars?” A charming voice rings out behind me. 

I turn over my shoulder and see Paul, I felt a blush begin to rise to my cheeks. Why did he get me so flustered for absolutely no reason?

“Uh, yeah. A little bit. Embry talks my ear off about them, plus I have some cars I like myself. But mechanical wise, they run circles around me.” I smirk. 

“Nice. They’re teaching me a lot more, I’m probably at the same level you’re at.” He chuckles, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine. 

“No you’re not, (Y/N) still runs circles around you. I’m the best teacher around.” Embry teases. 

“Well, you heard it here first. Looks like I know more than you about cars.” I tease.

“Might have to teach me some stuff some time.” He smirks. 

I felt the blush creeping onto my cheeks again, so I bent my head down, glancing down at my feet, before returning his gaze. 

“Maybe.” 

Embry looks between us, discomfort slightly showing on his face, which left me a bit confused. 

The drive back to my house was a bit awkward. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“I just... I got the vibe that you and Paul hit it off really well. Which would be fine, but he’s a bit of a... player. I just, I don’t want you to go through that. He’s a great friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend.” Embry gently tells me, looking into my eyes with his chocolate brown ones. 

“I see.” I swallow, looking out the window.

I was unsure of what to say. Paul seemed like a nice guy, but Embry wouldn’t steer me wrong. 

Over the next few weeks, I began to spend more and more time with them all. I grew to adore them more than I ever thought I would, they were just as important to me as Embry was now, my romantic feelings finally subsiding for him. Quil quickly became the impish friend that Embry told me he’d be, Jared was an absolute clown, Jake was beyond friendly, very caring. 

And well Paul... Paul was someone that really left me blushing almost constantly. He hung onto every word that left my mouth, and I did the same for him. He was sweeter than sugar to me, even if he was less of that to the rest of the group and everyone else. He had a certain softness in his voice, in his body language with me. Paul talked to me like I was the only person in the room, but Embry’s warning loomed over me like clouds over the rainy Forks sky. 

As time went on, Embry warned me again. He even spoke to Paul about it, apparently. Paul had told me about it one night while we were talking just the two of us. We begun to hang out just the two of us, yet I never let him call it a date as per Embry’s warning. 

While he was at first surprised I wouldn’t go on a date with him, he was persistent because he knew how I felt. He knew the connection we had. He was upset that I always reciprocated the flirting, but was always far too hesitant to make any larger moves. 

“Embry, I haven’t seen any other girls since you brought her to hang out.” 

“I don’t know Paul... I don’t want (Y/N) to be the same as every other girl for you.”

“She’s not, she’s different. You know that. I really like her, I never felt this before. She won’t say yes unless you’re okay with it.” 

“Don’t make me regret this, Paul.” 

“You won’t.” 

Paul would hold my hand when I would get scared during horror movie night. He would pick me up for hangouts for the pure fact that he could drive me home, despite me being able to drive and having my own car. He would give me his hoodies when I would grow cold, whispering about how they looked better on me than him. Paul grew protective over me, always making sure that every adventure we took together, he would be there to make sure I stayed in one piece due to my clumsiness. Paul truly thought I was this fragile piece of glass that could shatter at any moment. 

 He would surprise me with my favorite drink from Starbucks when I was having a rough day at work. The way he would always have to touch me, whether that be resting an arm around my shoulder, holding my hand, or resting a hand on my thigh or lower back. All of the above sending my nerves in a frenzy. He was protective, slightly jealous. He didn’t like when guys checked me out, so he made it known I was his when he would press a kiss to my lips, then smirking at them, pulling me into him. 

 I loved the feeling of when he would pull me into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around me. The way he held me at night, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world-- it was a beautiful feeling. It was crazy to hear the stories of the hot-headed boy, because with me he wasn’t like that. He was patient, kind, and loving to no end. Did he have his moments where his temper would flare up? Of course. Everyone does, but I tried to help him get to where he wanted his temper to be. We worked on new ways to cope, we made a lot of progress for him. 

He was everything you could ask for in a guy, he was nothing Embry warned me about. Everyone noticed that Paul had softened immensely, he was calmed down. He was “whipped” according to the guys, which I didn’t stop him from kicking Jacob’s ass for that one. 

“Damn, Paul. (Y/N) trained you well.” Quil teases, only to be pulled into a headlock.

Our first kiss was sweet, it was gentle. Paul’s large hands held my face like he was holding the most fragile thing in the world. He treated me like a princess. 

“Wanna go get lunch before we hang out with everyone? I’m buying.” He offers. 

“Sure, but you’re not buying my lunch.” I giggle over the phone. 

“Why not? It’ll be a date.” He chimes. 

“I don’t know... What’s in it for me?” 

“Uh, going on a date with the hottest and sweetest guy in all of La Push.” 

“Oh, Jacob’s taking me on a date?” I tease, knowing that would drive him a little nuts. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He chuckles into the phone. 

“I just might be, when’re you picking me up, Lahote?” I giggle. 

“I’m actually outside already. Surprise.” 

So we went out to lunch, and it was really fun. It always was a fun time with Paul. Going to hang out with the guys was great, though something was off with Jared. He played it off, continuing to tease Paul and I. 

Embry grew to support Paul and I, though he told me he was my second pair of eyes. He was watching Paul like a hawk, hoping he wouldn’t break my fragile heart. 

But when Jared got sick with mono and stopped coming around, I had to be there for him. He was beyond hurt when he saw Jared hanging out with Sam Uley. Why would he up and leave the group? No explanation, nothing. Jared avoided all of us like the plague.

Paul was devastated. That was his best friend, how could Jared lie to him? How could he ditch him like it was nothing?

The issue was, is that Paul had a hard time expressing his emotions. Even though he was sad about the situation, he grew to be angry. He would huff and puff, pacing the room, yelling about how Jared was being an asshole and how he had no idea what to do. 

It was fine, really. You knew that he was going through the ringer and he still treated you like a princess. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t even realize how much I was yelling.” He would apologize, walking over to you sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to calm down after your attempts to do so were futile. 

“I understand, you’re going through a rough time right now. But I’m here for you.” I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you.” He presses his forehead against mine.

“I love you, too.” 

Chills ran up my spine, I had felt butterflies like never before. Paul gave me feelings I never knew existed.  

But soon, he grew feverish. His skin was burning hot and he grew testy. He snapped at everyone, and seemingly for the littlest of things. I thought it was strange, as this was a side of Paul I had never seen. We had to leave Jake’s one night, as he grew incredibly protective over me... almost animalistic. He almost lost it on Quil when he started play fighting with me, I just took him out of there, leaving the guys in the garage. I was met with concerned eyes all around, but I knew Paul wouldn’t hurt me... I just had no idea what had gotten into him. 

He held onto me like his life depended on it. 

“I’m scared, (Y/N).” He whispered into my neck. 

“Why Paul?” 

“Jared and Sam... they look like they’re waiting for me. I can’t stand it-- they’re hovering over me all the time. I can’t deal with it.” He huffs. 

His feverish skin almost burning mine, just as it had been the last few days. 

“I’m sorry Paul, maybe try to avoid them?” I offer up my advice, but it met with a mere sigh from his lips. 

“They keep telling me I have to break away from everyone. That I’ll have to leave the friend group, that I’ll have to leave you. They’re lucky I didn’t kick their asses.” He huffs. 

His words shocked me, they left me speechless. Why would they be saying that?

“Why would they say that?” 

“Hell if I knew. I just ran out of there before I punched someone. I know you don’t like when I hit people.” He chuckles.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I smirk.

But I couldn’t shake his words, I didn’t understand why they wanted him? Why they wanted him to cut us all off? 

He soon fell asleep while I rubbed circles into his back, trying to soothe him once again. I heard my phone go off on the table next to me. 

It was Embry asking if I was okay, to which I told him yeah. He didn’t need to know the worries plaguing my brain. 

But the next few days, Paul got sicker. He started changing before my eyes, growing insanely fast. His body temperature continued to climb. He told me that Sam and Jared wouldn’t leave him alone, but he was only getting angrier at them and holding onto me tighter. 

“They keep saying they don’t want me to hurt you.” He would sigh, his face visibly distressed. 

And then told me that I couldn’t see him for a while. He cut off all the guys completely, and I hadn’t heard from him since; he wasn’t even answering my texts. 

Embry was worried sick about me, despite everyone being upset at Paul’s sudden change and departure from our lives. He would come and check up on me, absolutely stunned to see the shifting moods I had. 

One minute, I was fine and 110% certain that Paul wouldn’t up and leave with no warning, and the next I was a blubbering mess. Embry did his best to make sure that I wasn’t left alone for too long, as he was afraid I would become the next comatose Bella Swan. I mean, kudos to him for caring but that wouldn’t happen. Or maybe just yet, as the longer Paul was gone the less I seemed to care about anything else. It just felt like a part of me was gone, like the puzzle piece fitting my heart together was missing. 

So a few days later, I made some of his favorite soup and made my way over to his house. 

I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. It was locked so I couldn’t let myself in, but I knew where Paul’s bedroom window was. I peeked through and saw him peacefully sprawled out on his bed, the sight bringing both relief and a smile to my face. But then I heard some whooping noises from the back of his house, causing me to investigate. 

I look and see none other than the infamous Sam Uley and Jared Cameron, he looked very different since the last time I had saw him. It felt like forever ago since that night. 

“(Y/N), what’re you doing here?” Sam asks with a concerned tone. 

“I needed to see Paul.” I demand.

“Go home, (Y/N). He doesn’t want you to come around anymore, he doesn’t want to be with you anymore.” Jared looks deep into my eyes, his words punching me in the gut. 

His eyes were hard, as were his features, but I knew he was full of shit. But the words still hurt for just a second. For just a second.

“What the hell are you guys doing to him?” I look at them with eyes set to kill. 

“What? What did he tell you?” Jared asks, eyes widening with concern. 

“Calm down.” Sam urges, putting a hand out in front of Jared. 

“He won’t tell me anything anymore.” I hiss. “But before he stopped answering me he was so afraid of you guys! Always following him around, telling him what to do. Telling him to stay away before he hurts me! Paul would never hurt me, asshole!” 

I was fuming now, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself. Paul was a tough guy, nothing really broke him like their warnings and constant following did. The sudden changes he was experiencing, he had no idea of what to make of it as he was given no answers. 

“I watched him change in front of my very eyes, this is beyond some bullshit about him wanting to leave me, Jared. This is not normal.” I stomp my way over to them. 

“(Y/N), stay back.” Sam’s hand gestures up to me. “Jared, calm down.” 

“Sam, don’t. I’m done with this, I want my boyfriend back. Jared, what the hell got into you, too?” I raise my voice at him, causing him to flinch. 

“Hello? Earth to Jared Cameron? What’s your deal now, asshole?” I yell again, poking his bare chest. 

But that’s when rage took over Jared’s body. Something I had never seen before. Jared was always goofy, so nice. I had really only seen Paul so angry, and even then-- this was a different level. 

“(Y/N), move back now.” Sam yells. 

This time, I listened. I took some hesitant steps back, almost tripping over my own feet. 

Jared’s body was almost vibrating at this point, that’s how fast it was shaking. I just stared in awe, Sam’s voice was booming, though. 

“(Y/N), move back!” He yells again. 

I bring myself to take a few more steps back, but this time I did trip over my feet.

Jared suddenly moved like he was bursting out of his own skin, and in some way he did. Sam pushed him back to create some more distance, but overall in the end-- Jared turned into an enormous wolf. An enormous wolf that snarled at me, but overall didn’t do anything to hurt me. 

“What the hell?” I blink my eyes, before running towards Paul house. 

That’s when I see Paul running towards the situation. 

“Paul, run!” I say, trying to grab a hold onto him, but he gently, but very quickly, shook me off. 

He too, burst out of his own skin, turning into a giant wolf. 

“What?” I whisper to myself.

I watch as Paul jumps onto Jared, listening to their snarls and growling. I stared astonished, as Sam looks over at me with sympathetic eyes. 

After a few moments, Sam orders them to stop. And they did, they walked into the woods and came out with some jean shorts on. 

“Come here.” Sam says, helping me off the ground. 

“Is this... is this what was going on?” I breathe out.

“Yeah, you’re gonna learn a lot today.” He sighs, clearly unhappy about me knowing. 

“I’m sorry.” Jared exhales. “It’s hard to control your anger when this starts, and then I had to lie and everything. I’m just sorry.” He smiles softly. 

“All good, understood now.” I smirk. 

Though I was still uneasy. What did all this mean?

“Paul?” I merely whisper, looking up at his face. 

He had grown a lot, got even more muscular since I had last seen him. But he refused to meet my gaze. 

“Paul, please look at me.” I beg, reaching out to grab his forearm.

He hesitates, almost afraid to. 

“Paul if you think I’m afraid of you, I’m not. Please look at me.” My pleading voice almost cracking. 

I needed to see those deep brown eyes I had loved so much. The ones that brought me endless joy, endless love. But he wouldn’t budge. 

“That’s not what I’m afraid of right now.” He chuckles sadly. 

He was still looking over my head, refusing to meet my gaze.

 “You owe it to the both of you to figure it out, Paul.” Sam nods. 

“What? What’re you talking about.” I turn to Sam. 

But as I turn my head to look back at Paul, I finally caught his gaze. A small smile crept on his face, until our eyes met. 

That’s when his jaw fell slack, his face completely softened. It was like he was stuck in a daze of sorts. 

But what I felt was good. I felt like the world had stopped spinning, I felt like Sam and Jared were gone, it was only Paul and I. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as this overwhelmingly great feeling pressurized around my entire body. This was something far more intense than what Paul and I usually had felt, and even before I thought we had intense feelings. 

No, this was different. 

I had no idea how to even stand anymore, I felt like my knees were going to give out.

“Finally, some good news.” Jared huffs, grabbing both of us out of our trance. 

“Okay, please explain things.” I look back to Paul. 

“Okay.” He breathes a sigh of relief, before he pulls me into a rib crushing hug, spinning me around. 

I felt the air leave my lungs, this actually hurt. He sometimes accidentally hugged me too hard, but this was surreal. 

My breath hitched as I whimpered out and “ow” which caused Paul to quickly let go, profusely apologizing. 

“Sorry, I forget my own strength. Still not completely used to it.” 

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

“Okay, so let me get this straight. Vampires run rampant through Forks and the rest of the Olympic Peninsula? Right, so that’s what made you guys phase. And then you can’t be around people for a while because it’s an enormous secret that only the pack and their imprints can know. And Paul imprinted on me, but I still don’t know what that exactly means, but we can go over that. But then, you guys protect everyone from said vampires and destroy them. Now you’re super warm and strong and the rest of the group you expect to join soon? Because you all have it in your blood?” I ask, looking at Sam.

“Well, you seem to really listen. But yes, It’s likely that Quil and Jacob will, we don’t know so much about Embry but it’s possible. Has he been acting strange?” Sam raises an eyebrow. 

“He texted me about a fever earlier, but he’s been normal enough.” 

“Well, you suddenly disappearing might set him off.” Jared chuckles. 

“What? I can’t see him anymore?” 

“Not until he phases, any of them. The secret is important.” Sam looks at me with empathetic eyes, Paul’s hand immediately resting on my lower back. 

“I have to disappear out of my best friends’ lives? I don’t even phase!” 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s too much of a risk right now. Over time, we’ll see what happens.” 

My heart sank, how would they forgive me for disappearing indefinitely? For blowing them off? I was growing anxious at the thought. 

“They’ll forgive you when they understand, it just takes time.” Sam nods. 

“Okay.” I whisper. 

“Alright, Paul. Explain imprinting.” Jared smirks, looking over at us. 

“Right now?” Paul looks at Sam, but Sam only nods his head, signaling for him to begin explaining. 

“Paul? Just talk to me, we always talk about anything and everything.” I lay my hand on his comfortingly. 

He seemingly melted at my touch, just as always.

“Well, the thing is, it’s not our choice. And I want you to hear me out before you say anything, please.” 

“Of course.” I grew nervous at his words, but I knew that was nervous, too.

“Well, so it happens to some of us, not all of us get so ‘lucky,’ if you will. It happens when you see a certain person for the first time after you phase. When you look into their eyes, it’s just... it’s pure bliss. You just know, you know it’s your soulmate. But, that doesn’t mean romantic, it could be platonic. In reality, it’s up to them. But for us, you’d do anything, be anything for them. A friend, protector, a lover. We just... we need to be near them. I need to be near you, and I always did, even before all of this complicated shit. I was always protective, but I can’t imagine I’ll ease up, it’ll probably get worse so I’m sorry in advance, but overall, I want you to know that you hold the reigns.” He softly smiles, looking into my eyes with a pleading look.

“Oh, I see.” I murmur, looking down at my hand for a second, trying to process the situation. 

His face fell, and it looked like someone punched him in the gut, Jared and Sam grew a bit worried. 

“Wait, that wasn’t me rejecting you. I’m just... I’m thinking. It’s just a lot to take in. I love you, more than anything. I’m glad it was me and not someone else, I am. As long as you’re happy about that. But I just need to understand it. I feel a physical pull to you, so I feel it, too.” I smile softly, thinking about when he refused to look into my eyes. 

“I’m very happy that it was you.” He grabs onto my hand.

“So why didn’t you want to look into my eyes?” I mumble. 

“Because I didn’t want to bare the thought of it not happening with you, though I don’t think I could change anything about us, ever. Imprint or not, (Y/N), you’re stuck with me.” He chuckled. “But only if you want me.” 

“Of course I want you.” I nudge his shoulder. 

After that, it was just playing the waiting game, waiting for my best friends to phase, too. I was left with so many calls and texts I couldn’t answer. Embry showing up to my house, knocking to no avail. Leaving, sadness deep in his eyes. Though, he eventually became angry. I knew he was going to phase soon, I watched from afar how he was growing more hostile, and how he was changing physically. Soon, I’d have my best friend back. 

Paul was right, he grew more protective, more worried about my every move. It was clear to us all that he was more protective than Sam and Jared were over Emily and Kim. It was easier to understand everything with Kim and Emily being apart of this all, as they knew where I was coming from. 

But, it was the waiting game that was killing me. Thankfully, Paul was around to pick up the pieces after leaving my best friends behind, no notice given. He held me when I grew sad, feeling guilty for having to leave their lives. 

Paul was unwavering, loving me endlessly.  __________________________________ Word Count: 4796

[ahkaahshi]

stay here [iwaizumi hajime x reader]

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x fem reader

genre: smut (18+) and fluff

warning(s): explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, a bit of dub-con (bc of the fact that alcohol was involved), alcohol consumption, swearing, brief mentions of toxic relationships

word count: 3.5k

overview: a post break-up night at the club with your best friend ends a bit differently than you’d expected

notes: a commission for the lovely @devlovesiwa-channn​! sorry this took so long bb but I hope the wait was worth it! thanks for supporting me ily ❤️

The heavy bass pulsating through the club shakes every bone in your body as you sit at the bar, head propped up by your hand and fingers tapping against the side of your face to the beat of the song playing. From where he is beside you, Iwaizumi watches you breathe out another, long sigh with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oi,” he barks, drawing your (e/c) gaze to his dark one illuminated by the bright lights flashing from the ceiling, “Quit thinking about that jerk, would ya?”

With a roll of the eyes, you retort, “You say that like it’s so easy, Hajime. I did just get my heart broken not even a week ago.”

“And you say that like I’m clueless. Don’t forget who’s spent the past—what is it now? Five?—nights over at your place, watching movies with you and making sure you get to bed at a decent time.” His words elicit an immediate feeling of guilt that wells up inside your gut and makes you avert your gaze to search for the bartender who should be finishing up your drinks any moment now.

What he’d said was entirely true, and you knew it. Ever since you’d gotten out of a relationship earlier that week, you’d been a bit of an emotional wreck. Mountains of snack wrappers and tissues had already been piled up in the trash bin placed in your room when Iwaizumi had first showed up at your apartment after hearing about the news. He’d sat with you every evening this week, huddled beneath the covers of your bed or a pile of blankets on the couch while you’d switched between directing words seething with venom towards your ex and struggling to speak through sobs. He’d made sure that you’d eaten your meals, gone to bed at a decent hour, and had done everything in his power to be the friend you’d needed.

So, to even mention that you’d just endured a heartbreak like he had no idea about the situation was nothing less than a slap in the face to him—and you knew it. However, the noticeable discomfort written on your face has Iwaizumi shaking his head as if trying to negate the harshness of his statement.

“Hey,” he tries again in as soft a voice he can use when he’s having to compete with the music blaring, “all I’m saying is that I’ve seen the hell you’ve been put through because of that asshole, so I want you to be able to take your mind off of it for a bit and enjoy this night out, okay?”

You can’t help but chuckle in a way that reflects how jaded you feel by your predicament but shoot him a small smile anyway as you respond, “No promises.”

“We’ll see about that,” he challenges, a smirk flashing across his lips when the bartender sets down two shot glasses on the metal bar top before you. As if in synchronization, the two of you reach for your drinks at the same time and clink them together in a toast. “Here’s to a good night.”

After downing your shot, squeezing your eyes shut and taking a sharp inhale at the burning sensation of the alcohol traveling down your throat, you state, “Gonna need a few more before we get started with that.” Iwaizumi nearly chokes when you raise your hand to summon the bartender for an instant refill so you can tilt your head back once more to knock another one down. “What?” you question upon noticing his wary gaze, “You said you wanted me to have fun, didn’t you?”

“I’m not hauling your ass out of here if you get wasted, (f/n).”

“Guess our definitions of fun are a bit different, then.” He clenches his jaw and grunts with indignation at your response, and you laugh heartily at his annoyance, reaching over to graze the sleeve of his floral button-up shirt with your fingers. “I’m kidding! I promise I’ll stay conscious.” Another, louder murmur of disagreement that echoes from behind his pursed lips has you rolling your eyes and placing both your hands on his muscular shoulders. “Learn how to take a joke, would ya?”

He huffs, “It’d be easier to if what you’d just said hadn’t actually happened before.”

Sighing, you move your grip from his shoulders to the hem of your skirt, holding it down as you hop off the barstool. “Well, if I have to choose between sitting here, recounting my unfortunate run-ins with alcohol or dancing to this mediocre song, I think I’m gonna head to the dance floor.” After attempting to give your friend money for the drinks that he refuses out of kindness, since your plans for the evening had been made by him to begin with, you offer, “You know where to find me,” before making your way through the throngs of clubbers to the dance floor at the other end of the venue.

Iwaizumi shakes his head as he watches your figure disappear in amongst the sea of people and turns his attention to the empty shot glass he’s taken to tracing his fingers along pensively. As much as he wants to ignore the thoughts that have a habit of returning each time he sees you fall out of love with someone else, he can’t seem to rid himself of them—of the idea that maybe, just maybe, things would be different if you were with him instead. All this time, he’d been sitting on the sidelines, forced to play spectator in the games that other men seemed to enjoy playing with your heart while knowing damn well he would treat you with the respect you deserved.

It makes him a bit angry for you, actually, the way others haven’t known what to do with your heart after you’ve given it to them. He knows better than most that you can’t help who you choose to fall in love with—since he’s felt a natural affinity towards you since the first moment he met you—yet he can’t help but hope, after each of your breakups, that you give him a chance with your heart instead. However, out of respect for you, since you haven’t given him any indications that you might return his feelings, he’s kept quiet and maintained your close friendship.

The nagging thoughts persist, and each time, he shoves them into the darkest corner of his mind so he can help you pick up the pieces of your heart after another man drops it.

But they return when he eventually ventures out to the dance floor to find you after you’d returned to the bar for another round of shots to fuel your agenda of forgetting about your ex and sauntered away once more. Navigating through the waves of gyrating bodies finally brings him within a few feet’s distance of where you stand, swaying along to the music without a care in the world. 

As he watches you with the same admiration he would give the only twinkling star in a dark, nighttime sky, he wonders how your former boyfriend could’ve ever thought to treat you the way he had—with such blatant disregard for your feelings. Anyone who tried to dim your light wasn’t the one for you, and now all he wants is for you to shine brighter than you had before. Whether or not you do so for him doesn’t matter in his eyes. He just wants to see your radiance and happiness return.

Just as he’s about to approach you so he can join in on the fun, the song changes into one he knows well—because it’s your favorite. He can’t count the number of times he’s listened to you belt out the lyrics while driving or caught glimpses of you performing bits of the choreographed routine you must’ve created whenever you hear it played in a public setting, but what he sees unfold before him this time is entirely different to anything he’s witnessed before. 

Even if he didn’t want to look, it’s impossible to ignore you when the thin veil of sweat over your skin makes you shine under the bright, multicolored lights in a dazzling display as you move to the beat. With the way your body’s undulating in cadence with the music, a seductive look on your face while your hands run from your torso down to your thighs, you’ve attracted more than a few hungry gazes. But his is the only one that you meet with your own, silently beckoning him over to you moments before you lift a finger to summon him in a request to join you. His feet carry him across the distance separating the two of you without a second thought.

There’s a gentle, somewhat amused smile on his face at seeing you finally letting loose, but it soon becomes much more serious when he feels your fingers clench around the fabric of his shirt. The space around you is hot and charged, and you’re barely able to tell one direction from the other with the way your head’s spinning in a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, but you know exactly what you’re doing. The heat of his body radiates onto your hands as you run them along his toned torso while singing along to the song’s lyrics, and you relish in the way his dark eyes are traveling along every inch of your skin.

When your hands reach his, you turn your back towards him and place his palms on both sides of your waist. Feeling his hold on you tighten and strong fingers pressing against your skin spurs you to grind your hips against him slowly in an attempt at testing the waters. He encourages your actions by pulling you closer to him and moving in synchronization with you. His acceptance and reciprocation of your invitation has heat pooling in your stomach and your heart fluttering in your chest.

The way your bodies as one, like they’ve been created to fit perfectly together in this moment has any restraint you would’ve normally shown evaporating completely. In your mind, you only want him. You’ve known that. You’ve known that for so long, yet you’d been out chasing down other men who’d inevitably become the sources of your heartaches. Now, you think it’s high time you finally go after who it is you’ve truly been yearning for in silence for far too long.

Once a change in the song brings an end to your fairly explicit dancing, you turn to face him again, (e/c) eyes drifting from his own down to his lips as your hands instinctively find his arms to steady yourself in amongst all the movement surrounding you. He seems to hesitate for a moment, since the two of you stand and stare at each other in silence despite the bass sending vibrations through your chests, but he eventually finds the courage to act on his desires. In an instant, his large hand is moving to cup your face and bring it closer to his so he can press a strong kiss against your lips.

A mixture of exhaustion and utter euphoria knocks the wind out of your lungs, sending soft pants tumbling out of your mouth when he finally breaks the kiss. “Hajime…” you utter, voice barely audible above the vocals bouncing off every surface of the club’s interior.

The distinct scent of alcohol taints the breath that fans across your face when he asks, “Yeah?”

“I want you. I want you so badly. Please.” The confession falls off your lips with such ease that you question why you haven’t been able to say it all this time.

A curse word escapes his mouth in a gentle whisper, and you can feel his hard-on against your body when he pulls you in for another heated kiss. “Wanna get out of here?” he wonders. Your enthusiastic nod forms a smile across his lips, and his arm is wrapping around your waist to safely guide you through the crowds so he can sort out a ride home.

What happens next all feels like a blur to you, since all you can think about the entire car ride back is having Iwaizumi’s hands all over your body the moment you get to your doorstep. It appears you’re not the only one who’s impatient, since he’s caging you against the wall in the entryway with his body moments after you’ve kicked off your shoes and locking lips with you once more. The combination of the booze and the pleasure is making your head spin, but you’re able to take his hand and pull him into the bedroom with you so your back can be against the mattress instead.

The strong, passionate nature of his sloppy, open-mouthed kisses serves as a telltale sign of how long he’s been waiting to experience such an intimate moment with you. All along, he’d thought he would want to take his time in this situation—trailing gentle kisses across every inch of your skin and making sure no part of you is left needing his tender but firm touch. However, in the heat of the moment, he’s quick to abandon any ideals of a slower pace, intent on ravishing you.

Your fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt so you can push it off his broad shoulders as his hands work on yanking off your little clubbing outfit. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest with excitement at the new, uncharted territory you’re both delving into together. For the first time in the many years you’ve known one another, you’re seeing each other at your most vulnerable states.

A gentle moan sounds from your throat at the feeling of his fingers traveling between your legs so they can slide along the saturated fabric covering your slit. Wrapping your arms around his back and pulling him closer to you, you bring your hot bodies flush against one another so you can taste more of the alcohol lingering on his tongue. He swallows another whimper you release when his fingers shove your panties aside so they can toy with your sensitive clit. The sharp sensation of your fingernails pressing into his skin makes him grunt gently, but also sends a rush through him like a buzz of electricity.

“That feel good?” he murmurs, his deep voice prompting your walls to clamp around his thick fingers as he pushes them inside of you.

Hips bucking at his thumb stroking your pearl and legs already shaking from just how mesmerizing his touch is alone, you nod in response and breathe, “So good.” His lips return to yours for another kiss before forming a smile as they press against your jawline, neck, and collarbone, slowly making their way down towards your breasts. Feeling his tongue drag across one of your hardened nipples has you crying out softly as your hands fly to his head, fingers carding through his dark hair.

The delicacy with which he’s sucking on your pebbled bud sharply contrasts the fast, fervent motions of his fingers thrusting into your warm, wet core, edging closer and closer to your sweet spot each time.

“H-Hajime!” Your voice shudders when his name tumbles off your tongue. “Want you inside of me… please, baby.”

Hearing your voice become so needy and desperate as you beg has him groaning against your skin. “Wanna cum all over my cock, princess?” he suggests lowly, moving his head away from your breasts so he can look down at your eyes clouded with lust.

Your heart skips a beat at the name he calls you in jest being used in this situation instead, and you gaze up at him with a mixture of awe and affection burning in your chest until your mouth falls open again at his fingers kneading your sweet spot. You moan loudly in place of the words you’d meant to say, but continue once you take a breath, “Yes! Please, fill me up!”

The way you sound makes him want to do anything for you, and he withdraws his fingers from inside your core so he can unbuckle his belt and push his pants down. Your eyes widen at the sight of his large dick adorned with beads of precum, which he notices and acknowledges by rubbing soothing circles on your thighs while he rids you of your soaked underwear and spreads your legs further apart so he can slot his torso between them. “You can take me, baby; I know you can,” he reassures you in between gentle pecks to your lips.

You hum in agreement, your gaze focusing on his as he aligns his leaking cockhead with your entrance and pushes inside you slowly, stretching your walls in a way that sends currents of both pain and pleasure shooting through your body. He groans, “Oh, fuck; you feel so good,” while your pussy swallows him inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed inside your inviting warmth. He starts with a slower pace than expected given how quickly he was thrusting his fingers into you just moments earlier, rocking his hips against yours and nudging your cervix.

“Faster, Hajime, please,” you beg breathlessly, “I need you.”

A particularly hard thrust he can’t hold back at hearing your request has you mewling with both surprise and satisfaction. “I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he growls, heavy breaths falling onto your ear as he picks up his pace and intensity, filling your stomach with a familiar warmth, “Gonna be the best you’ve ever had.”

His strong hand gripping your hip, lifting you up slightly to meet the angle of his precise thrusts—despite the animalistic desire that’s overcome him—has your legs trembling where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sound of his skin smacking against yours is barely audible above your own moans mingling with his loud grunts. All you can feel is him. Every inch of his body, every ridge of each muscle beneath his hot skin, and every ragged sigh that fans over your neck. He’s all you want, and you can’t help but voice your desires over and over again in the form of his name.

“H-Hajime, I’m gonna cum!” you squeal when he starts drilling deeper inside of you, sending waves of pleasure flowing over your body with each thrust. Your toes are curling, your heart’s racing, every muscle in your body’s tensing as you dangle on the edge of your orgasm—so tantalizingly close to coming undone.

He seems to know what you need to reach the state of euphoria you’re craving, since he pulls out of you to flip you over onto your stomach. The room tilts around you ever so slightly at the sudden change in orientation, but your head drops to the comforter when he pulls your hips up towards his and slams into from behind instead. More feverish sounds of pleasure and begs of “Don’t stop!” leave your mouth unabashedly when the sensations overwhelming you slacken your jaw and create white spots in your vision.

“That’s it!” Iwaizumi hisses as your pussy spasms around him and you cry out his name in the heat of your orgasm, “Fuck, baby; you’re gonna make me cum.”

Your velvety walls clenching around his dick so affectionately and your hips thrashing against his as you ride out your high has him reaching his as well moments later, and he releases inside of you, filling you to the brim with warmth. His hands on your hips keep them in place while he finishes, and he remains inside of you a few seconds afterwards before pulling out and lying down on the bed beside you.

“Fuck…” you sigh as your chest rises and falls with deep breaths. The exasperated tone in your voice causes worry to bubble in Iwaizumi’s chest for a brief moment until you turn to regard him with a bright smile. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Glad you feel that way too,” is his response delivered with a chuckle.

In the darkness only interrupted by pale shards of moonlight seeping in between the blinds, your hand finds his face so you can tilt it towards yours and press another, tender kiss against his lips. “I’m sorry,” you whisper even though your mouths are still connected.

“Why?” His fingers brush your hair away from your face on their way to rest at the nape of your neck.

“Because I should’ve been with you all this time and not those other losers.” There’s a short pause, bathing the room in silence save for the beating of your heart against your ribcage. “I love you, Hajime—and I have loved you—but I’ve just been running away because I’m scared of ruining things like I have with other guys.”

The warmth his lips spread over your body when they return to yours puts you at ease, as does his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“I love you too, (f/n),” he confesses, pecking the crown of your head, “So how about you stop running and stay here with me, hmm?”

Nestling your face against the crook of his neck and taking a deep breath, you sigh, “That’s all I want.”

masterlist ⭐︎ treat me to a coffee!

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom​​, @newfriendjen​​, @devlovesiwa-channn​​, @ohbyunhunn​, @aftcrlust​​, @mister-future​​, @kyleclxin​​, @kac-chowsballs​​, @osamusmiya​​, @nit-sir-hc​​, @arixtsukki​​, @shinsurou​​, @ichorizaki​​, @dominikmagnus​​, @yamagucji​​

iwaizumi: @misora-msby​,@lotsoffandomrecs​, @tsumue​, @heyhinata​, @cuddlysoftbear​

[skeezsbbygirl]

call me that too + kim seungmin

this one’s for anon who requested a seungmin scenario with a dash of oppa kink. i didn’t go too overboard hehe, just a sprinkle of a suggestive theme at the end (i’ll leave it to your imagination asdjhfrirgjgl cuz i can’t handle them feelssss ugh)

nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy! oh and thank you for the love that you guys are showing for “peaches + bang chan” uwuuuu (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

REQUEST BOX IS STILL OPEN. STREAM GOD’S MENU AND VOTE FOR OUR BOYS.

[5:12 p.m.] A yawn escaped your lips as you managed to go through all your assigned lectures for the day. You logged out from your university's portal and shut your laptop close, not wanting to stare at the bright screen any longer. You sauntered towards the kitchen and opened the drawer that contained all your caffeine-related pick-me-ups. As you were about to grab a mug, your actions were halted by your phone's ringtone, signalling a call as it rang on the coffee table from your apartment's living room. You managed to accept the call before it was dropped.

SeungMong <3

"Hey," you answered, sauntering back to the kitchen as you cradled your phone in between your right ear and shoulder to keep your hands free. "Baby, are you busy?" Seungmin asked. You shook your head but you mentally facepalmed as you remembered that the boy on the other line couldn't see you, "No. I just finished some school stuff. What's up?"

"Can you come over? Chan-hyung wants to take us out for dinner," Seungmin replied and you could faintly hear Jisung and Changbin screaming in the background -- something about Chan covering food expenses for the first time. You lightly chuckled and responded, "Yeah sure, I'll be there in twenty."

An hour passed and you were all gathered at the boys’ go-to restaurant, which was three blocks down from your university's dormitory.

"Am I dreaming?" Jisung teased as he hopped off Chan's car, Changbin and Jeongin not far behind him. “Somebody drive him back home,” Chan groaned to which the younger one giggled, jumping on his back in the process. “Hyung, come on. I was just poking fun at you,” Jisung cooed at the elder, earning him a light flick on the forehead from Chan.

You beamed at the sight of the boys playfully bickering. “Pay attention to me,” Seungmin whined and nudged your shoulder. You broke into a cheesy grin and gave his cheek a peck, “You always have my attention.”

Seungmin extended a hand towards you, to which you gladly complied, squeezing his hand three times as you intertwined your hand with his -- your silent way of saying ‘I love you’. 

Soon after, you guys were seated inside the restaurant and you fell into each of your own said conversations. 

“How was your day?” Seungmin asked as he adjusted his seat closer to yours. “Better now that I’m with you,” you said in a voice soft with affection. Seungmin chuckled, “Stop it.” You shook your head, leaning closer so that your forehead touched his. “You’re so cute,” you teased, which earned you a pout from the older male. “You do know that I’m a year older than you, right?” Seungmin bragged. You rolled your eyes, “Your point being?”

Seungmin sighed in defeat, opting to plant a kiss on your lips, but you were interrupted by multiple groans and a chorus of complains. “Get a room already!” Felix exclaimed with his hands covering his eyes, a poor attempt to discard the sight of yours and Seungmin’s “sickening” affection, as Minho described it. You stuck a tongue out at Felix, “Stop being so bitter.”

Felix faked sob and Jeongin joined in on his act, embracing the older male and patting his head.

Soon, your playful banter came to an end as your orders arrived. You guys were eating in silence, uttering a compliment here and there towards the dishes that you were served, until Hyunjin called for your attention.

“Oh, (y/n), before I forget,” the older male started, only stopping for a second to sip on his drink. “I found that outline you’ve been looking for,” he continued. “Please tell me you have it,” you pleaded, eager to finish the book review that your professor has quested upon your class a week ago. Hyunjin nodded, “The copy is in the car, I got you.”

You cheered as you reached out your hand to give him a high-five. “You’re the best, oppa.”

With your response, Hyunjin immediately side-eyed Seungmin’s reaction. He might have known something or at least sensed something, specifically when Seungmin blabbered -- well, more like ranted -- about you not calling him the said endearment you just used on Hyunjin a few seconds ago. 

Let’s rewind, shall we?

Hyunjin was an hour away from a deadline, and yes, he admits that he may have finished his project sooner, but a certain someone, who goes by the name of Jisung, decided that it would be more fun to play video games over at Felix and Changbin’s dorm. “That stupid project isn’t even due for another day. Chill out, dude,” Jisung claimed with burgeoning excitement. Instead of turning his friend down -- or better, kicking his tempting ass out of the dorm -- he caved in.

Hours later, he was cramming at least two days worth of work into an hour. Then comes your boyfriend, Seungmin. “Hyunjin!” the younger male called out from their dorm’s entrance. “In here!” Hyunjin hollered, his fingers still hot on his laptop’s keyboard, seven more questions and a descriptive about his said stand on the project, and he’ll be done -- both figuratively and literally, his brain’s slowly pan-frying itself to destruction. He mentally cursed Jisung.

“Procrastination at its finest,” Seungmin mocked as he entered Hyunjin’s room. “You can nag me later, bur right now I have to finish this and then kick Jisung’s ass,” Hyunjin said with firm persistence. The younger lad sighed and sat down on a bean bag at the corner of the room. “I don’t have the energy to nag,” Seungmin whispered, but Hyunjin still managed to catch his words. He jokingly rolled his eyes, finding slight amusement towards Seungmin’s puppy expression.

“You and (y/n), had a fight?” Hyunjin asked, his attention still on his laptop but he figured he needed Seungmin for a little background noise to keep him sane, plus the guy’s one of his best friends. “Not really,” Seungmin disagreed. “Then, what got you all gloomy?” Hyunjin insisted, but he was only met with silence.

“Seungmo, come on, spill.”

“She addresses you as an ‘oppa’,” Seungmin blurted out after a few seconds. “Who addresses me as what?” Hyunjin asked, his eyebrows contorted in confusion. “(y/n),” Seungmin answered as he buried his face in his arms. “Seungmo, you do know that she does that to everybody that’s older than her, right?” Hyunjin replied, “It’s called being polite.”

“Well, I call it being unfair.”

Hyunjin chuckled in amusement, “Please elaborate.”

“You and I are the same age, which means that I’m older than her too, but she doesn’t call me that,” Seungmin whined.

And that’s how Seungmin ended up being silent for the rest of the night. You, being unaware of the situation, shrugged it off, thinking that he was just exhausted from his vocal lessons. Until, Hyunjin decided to let you in on the puppy’s cause of gloominess.

“Here, now go ace that literature course,” Hyunjin handed you the outline he promised, giving your head a pat in the process. “Thank you, oppa.”

“One more thing, (y/n),” Hyunjin said as he leaned down and whispered, “Seungmin wants to be called that too.”

“Huh?” you turned to him in confusion, but Hyunjin just stared at you and decided that you would come into revelation in a few seconds. “Oh,” you gasped, eyes lighting up in the process. “That’s why he’s been acting weird,” you added. Hyunjin smiled in approval, “Do something and wipe that pout off his face.”

The car ride back to your dorm was silent. Seungmin kept his eyes on the road, no words were exchanged between the two of you and he clearly showed no effort of doing so any time soon. You’re slowly running out of time as your building came into view a few minutes later. Seungmin slowly stopped the car and got out, he jogged towards your side and opened the door for you.

Go time.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” Seungmin said. His expression was sad but he still managed to give you a kiss on the forehead. He was about to pull away but you prevented him from doing so by holding his face in your hands. You stared at him lovingly, thanking the universe for bringing this man into your life. 

“I love you, oppa,” you whispered, but loud enough for him to hear you. 

A soft gasp escaped from his lips as his eyes widened, “What did you just call me?”

“Oppa, why?” you giggled and gave his nose a kiss. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel like I’m on top of the world right now, but you never call me that,” Seungmin wondered, his arms now wrapped around your waist, allowing him to pull you closer. “Let’s just say, a little bird told me,” you teased.

“Hwang Hyunjin!”

You laughed, “Don’t get mad at him.”

“Listen,” you called back for his attention, “I don’t call you oppa because I use that on everybody who’s older than me, well close friends of course, but you know what I mean.”

“And you, Kim Seungmin, are not just anybody. You’re my person, my everything, my whole world. You’re special to me and you matter the most,” you explained, pouring your feelings out for the said man. You were about to say more in order to get rid of Seungmin’s doubt, but he cut you off with a kiss.

You guys were practically making out in your dormitory’s parking lot, but it’s the least of your worries right now.

You pulled away first as you tried to catch your breath. “I love you so much, (y/n),” Seungmin confessed, his expression now darker as you witnessed his eyes fill with desire. “And I’ll prove that to you.”

“What do you mean, oppa?”

Seungmin leaned down, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Don’t test me, baby.”

You whimpered in response, “Do whatever you want. I’m all yours, oppa.”

[waitingfortheendtocome]

Deceiving Love

This was a request idea send so all credits for the idea goes to @me-goro Thank you for the request and I promise I’ll try my best :)

Request: Enemy to Lovers where Lou meets y/n for the first time while Lou’s trying to be sneaky because she wants to get information o but Y/N is unknowingly in the way of her getting it. 

This is probably not going to be that many chapters maybe a few chapters, more or less fast pace. I tried to get it in a one shot but it would’ve been too long. 

I’m so sorry is so long I couldn’t find a stopping point and wanted to get as much info out there as well as introduction for the first chapter. I promise I’ll try not to make them too long in the future lol. I’m bad at finding good ending spots as well as writing characters hating on each other LOL. Fair warning I went for the crashing into each other cliché to create a bad start between them LOL

I haven’t edited it completely so there might be grammatic error and for that I apologize. 

Also this is my first Ocean’s 8 Lou Miller story so I’m sorry if this turns out bad 😅

Warnings: None yet except Cursing here and there. bad first impressions if you count that (is that under angst????)

Chapter One

~Lou~

Lou parked in front of the warehouse they had rented out for the job. They made sure to rent it out under a false name to avoid backtracking in case somewhere where to go wrong. They all took a flight to France for a job Debbie insisted they should do. She claimed it a really good job and the pay was good. Personally Lou didn’t needed the extra cash and rejected the job a few times over the course of a week before finally caving in due to Debbie’s persistence. Despite her agreeing she wasn’t happy and had been slightly grouchy she wanted to focus on running her club, upgrading it here and there to make it better and maybe open another club so she was very busy. 

If she did this job she had to put all the plans on hold for a while which she was upset about. She had to hire a temporary manager to run her club while she was gone, hell even Tammy tried to tell Debbie to leave Lou be but according to Debbie they’ll get caught if Lou wasn’t there. Lou had been in a bad mood that day and saying a few things that would have hurt Debbie’s feelings if Debbie had been within hearing range only Tammy heard her and the two had a lengthy conversation which made Lou wish she had a strong drink which wasn’t wise thankfully Tammy made her feel better already sensing Lou’s sudden stress. Safe to say after talking to Tammy she agreed on the job better her helping Debbie than having all seven of her friends get caught and arrested. Debbie was more than happy at Lou agreeing to do this job something Lou noticed and had to admit made her happy.

They all walked in the warehouse and looked around except for Lou who walked confidently to a chair and sat down her long legs spread out in front of her. She had already came here a week ago to get the place set up for the team she even set up a spot for nine balls with the equipment the woman needed for the heist so she didn’t needed to explore or look around. Debbie grinned at Lou proud that Lou had set the place up already Lou looked up from her phone giving Debbie a smug smirk before she finished texting her temporary club manager. She put her phone away and looked up knowing the team had gathered and Debbie took the floor.

“So, what are we stealing? You guys haven’t told us.” Amita wondered

Lou lounged back shrugging, “Don’t look at me not even I know.”

“Yo, are they diamonds?” Nine Balls wondered

“Woah, wait you haven’t told Lou?” Constance wondered shocked

“I didn’t wanted her to try and back out if I told her.” Debbie informed them earning a snort from the blonde in question who shoved a piece of gum in her mouth

“Oh now we really wanna know, spill girl what is it?” Nine stated closing the lid of her laptop

Smiling satisfied that she got everyone's attention she turned on the screen projector stating, “Hear me out first.”

The screened turned on and an drawing of three jewels popped up and beside it another image of two crowns popped up. Lou studied the items quickly wondering what was so special about them besides the lack of photograph.

The necklace collar is large and is made out of pure gold hallmarked with roses and harps made out of diamonds put to gatherer alternately. They where tied together with knots made out of pure gold and topaz diamonds. The roses where made out of diamonds and rubies. In the center of the collar was an imperial Jeweled Crown crest surmounting a harp of gold and diamonds. There was a small writing that says they're suppose to be two of them one had the imperial badge crown and the other did not other than that both necklace collars where the exact same.

The second jewel was a Grand Master diamond badge. The badge looked like it was similar to the one hanging off one of the necklaces. the badge is made out of silver containing trefoil in emerald on a ruby cross surrounded by sky blue enamel with rose diamonds writing. The crowned harp was made out of Diamonds and Brazilian stones.

The third Jewel was a simple large star made of gold diamonds and brilliants. it consisting of eight points with four lesser issuing Centre enclosing a cross of ruby and a trefoil of emeralds surrounding a sky blue enamel circle with writing in rose diamonds. The crowns was made out of pure gold, diamonds among with other jewels spread out creating a rather elegant and luxurious pattern.

Lou looked at them than at Debbie and sighed shaking her head looking incredulous. The jewels in the first image where known as the crowned jewels and the crowns where royal crowns from who knows how long ago both of which were stolen at different times ages ago. Lou was very confused as to what Debbie was planning unless Debbie decided to change her profession to treasure hunter.

“Debbie what are those jewels?” Tammy wondered confused

“Yo, what’s with the lack of photo are we downgrading or something?” Nine pointed out

“No we are not downgrading these-,” Debbie began before she was interrupted by Lou

“Those are the Crown jewels that went missing in 1906. The crowns on he right where missing in 1799 both where never seen again.” Lou explained

Debbie nodded slightly surprised Lou knows about them, “Yes, you know what they are?”

“Duh! So Indiana Jones how the fuck are we looking for said jewels are we pulling a Lara Croft or something.” Lou stated sarcastically

“If you would have let me finish Lou instead of interrupting I would have said that there was rumors that the said jewels are no longer missing they supposedly are here in this city in their most popular museum. Unfortunately we need information in order to get it that one one has but probably one person without said information there’s no way we can find them.” Debbie explained

Rose became confused and spoke up shyly, “What are they worth, don’t we usually start off by saying how much the seven of us earn?”

Debbie grinned mischievously and looked at the group proudly, “Today, four-hundred million dollars in today’s money minimum we might easily be able to up the prices due to the simple fact that the they where all stolen long ago and thought to no longer exist.”

“You’re not telling us something.” Lou pointed out casually

Debbie pressed the button on the remote and three pictures popped up, two of them where of two men one older than the other and the third of a woman Lou had to admit was the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eye’s on. She honestly could care less about the pictures of the men she was focused on the woman. Lou noticed you smiled proudly, you eyes shinning with happiness. You where wearing an outfit that was business casual, your hair styled to suit your professional style you where going for. Lou’s eyes flickered to Debbie to find her staring at her smirking smug and Lou cursed softly at being caught she knew that look anywhere. Debbie smug looked at the group and stated casually.

“These three are the ones in charge the younger man is the owner and director his name is Richard Davis, the older man’s name is Liam Moore he is the Curator, and the woman’s name is Y/F/N Y/LN she is the registrar. One or two of them have all the information we need and we need to get it out of them to find it. It’ll be too risky getting it out of Richard Davis and even Liam Moore. Our biggest chances is Y/F/N, she is in charge of what goes in and out of that place. Her job is to literally keep track of all the object, records, authenticity and borrowings so if these jewels are heading to their museum they’ll be passing through her and it'll be her job along with Liam to put them away either on display and hide them.” Debbie explained

“Don’t forget that if she has good relation with the director he’ll be giving her special tasks involving Jewels.” Tammy added earning a nod from Debbie

“So, how do we get this information out of her?” Amita wondered

Debbie grinned eying Lou again earning a sharp glare from Lou which in turn caused Debbie to laugh and look at the confused group who was looking back and forth between them wondering what they missed.

“Well Lou will be getting close to the woman and try to get information out of her she has Lou’s type written all over.” Debbie told them smug

“Like she’ll tell me the information. ‘Hey Miss. Y/L/N where the fuck are you keeping the jewels my team wants to steal them’.” Lou hissed her tone dripping sarcasm

“Please, we need the information.” Constance pleaded pouting Lou narrowed her eyes only causing Constance to pout further finally earning a sigh in defeat from Lou who all but caved she can’t resist Constance pout and she knows it she has a soft spot for the girl.

“Alright, I’ll do it. That was a cheap shot kid,” Lou pointed out getting up earning a beaming smile in return. “How hard can getting information out of her be aren’t people working in museum are boring or uptight as fuck.”

Lou without a word left the building deciding to pay the place a visit she kind of hoped one of the other’s would go in and do that after all Lou’s job was to gather anyone working for them, stealing the objects, making sure everything is going according to plan and have backup plans in case something goes wrong among other things bribing information out of someone wasn’t one of them. Granted a very attractive someone but she wasn’t going to admit that to anyone. Lou sighed realizing is been too long since she’s gotten anyone in her bed and it was starting to show. Lou climbed on a car and drove off following the GPS directions.

~You~

You rushed into the building of your workplace cursing at yourself for forgetting to set up the alarm. You moved to France from your home after finally landing a job that you actually loved for a change. You’ve always been a fan art and Historical artifacts so you began working at a big historical museum in Paris.

You walked into the building passed security and across the huge building waving hi to the security guard. You walked straight to your office that's located towards the back of the building. You barely made it in when your boss who’s also the director and owner of the museum jogged up to you looking like a kid in Christmas and you know something must have happened to get him this excited. The two of you had been friends since you started working there, you where originally the tour guide to the place before he promoted you to the official Registrar of the museum.

"Y/N right on time, we need to talk about something important that just happened." He told you barely able to contain his excitement. You honestly wonder how this man is an adult and owns this place. He is like a child sometimes.

You quirked an eyebrow at him confused, "Sure, what is it?"

He pointed to your office door, "let's go to your office to talk privately. I don't want anyone to overhear.”

Nodding more confused, you opened the door and walked in with him behind you. He closes and locks the door, tugging you into the room making you more confused if possible. The both of you sat across from each other, you barely had the chance to ask again why he was so excited when he handed you two folded piece of paper. Looking confused you opened  the first one and stared at it to find an old drawing of a three jewels. You looked confused when you saw it since it looked like a drawing of the jewels rather than an actual photo.

You looked up at your boss after you studied the two pages and the descriptions of the jewels along with what was used to create them. You remember hearing about these things going missing during a conversation you had with your coworker who was a guide here in the museum. When discussing missing jewelry or historical artifacts he had mentioned several different ancient royal jewels that had gone missing and mentioned these but you weren’t sure what this had to do with anything.

“Richard, do I want to know why you’re showing me these? These aren’t even in our museum I would know is my job to memorize anything and anyone that goes in or out of this place.” You wondered confused

He grinned excitedly, “Yes, They went missing centuries ago and we recently found them again and just so happens that they are secretly on their way here we wont put them on display of course.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, “Really? How the hell did you find them?"

He shrugged grinning, "I honestly don't have a clue how they where found the important thing is I got my hands on them before anyone else did. The jewels where stolen and sold in the 1900s someone must have found them recently the crowns where destroyed but turns out they where stolen and hidden. That's as far as I know."

You nodded processing the information for a moment, "okay that makes sense sort of but wouldn’t they be prone to thieves though?”

He chuckled, “Yes, which is why I have a plan which is foul proof. I did not wanted us to suffer the same fate as the Toussaint so I’m going to change a few things here and there around this place but more importantly only you and I will have all the information and location.”

You shook your head at that. Being the only one with specific information only added more stress on you especially if you’re going to be put in charge of it which you knew you where based on the look you where given.

“I’m listening. What’s this infamous information.” you told him slightly sarcastic earning a chuckle

He looked satisfied with your reply and sat back explaining the importance of having the word not get out that those jewels where discovered. He went into greater details on how they where going to get them in the museum, how they where going to be hidden, secured and how they where going to up the security and his crazy idea of adding a few decoys in other locations when you asked why the decoy he looked at you sheepish and said he took the idea from the Met when it was discovered Klugger was wearing a fake so he was borrowing the idea just in case. After he was done explaining which took up an hour or so you looked baffled.

“This better not backfire on us.” you sighed and got up getting ready for work to distract yourself leaving a smug owner in your office.

************

Most of the morning was uneventful and slightly dreadful. There was a tour by a Primary school which was stressful given how some of the kids wanted to run off on their own when their teacher and tour guide was not looking. At one point one of them almost knocked something over since they went past the security point forcing you to run and steady the item and pointing out to the teacher to keep a better eye on her students. You where of curse polite and respectful about it despite your patience being tested.

It wasn’t until the afternoon where everything started to go south. It was a lot busier an old lady freaked out believing that one of the old priceless painting was hers and tried to steal it not to mention she had a cane and smacked you with it a few times until she was escorted away from the area. You where pretty sure you where going to bruise a little. You could not help but wonder how does an old lady able to swing the cane that forcefully. So is safe to say you where in a really bad mood. You walked past the Egyptian wing and paused when you heard a childlike giggle. You walked over just in time to see yet another child trying to get past the safety line and getting inside the security glass. You ran over and stopped him before something tragic happened and fixed the glass. You couldn’t help but glare at the kid. The kid backed up but you grabbed his arm.

“Where are your parents?” You asked in a serious tone he didn’t say anything only pointed to the other side of the Egyptian wing. You walked him over to them to find them both on their phone you tapped their shoulder interrupting the careless parents.

“Yes?” the arrogant mother asked

“Is this your kid?” You asked trying to not sound rude and snap after earning a nod from both you spoke up before they can say anything, “Please keep your kid close to you I just found him nearly knocking over an artifact.”

The father took the kid and narrowed his eyes scolding his son for walking out of their side and misbehaving deciding to punish the kid by taking him home earning a temper tantrum.

“Bill don’t be harsh he didn’t mean it I’m sure we could have paid for the damages.” The mother scolded her husband

You rolled your eyes at that and said, “Yeah, ma’am keep him close and for the record neither of us can afford that thing. Instead of being on your phone how about showing your kid a good time if you payed attention to him he wont have any need to destroy the place. This is the third time I had to stop him.” you turned around and walked off not even bother with civility anymore.

You turned around and stormed off to keep an eye on the rest of the of the museum hoping nothing more will happen. You where in a bad mood and ready to go home. You walked around the corner only to collide with someone causing you to tumble back at that same moment you felt something cold splash all over you. Looking down you realized it was just water.

“Fuck. Watch where you’re walking.” the woman snapped

You glared up at her to find a pair of light blue eyes glaring right back you belonging to a tall platinum blonde woman. You looked down to find her shirt was also wet and she was holding a half empty cup.

“First of all watch where YOU’RE walking, second of all no cellphones and third off I wasn’t the one walking with a cup filled with what ever that was you’re not allowed to have liquids in this section only the lobby’s lounge area blonde.” You snapped right back

“What the fuck I was walking here you’re the one who crashed into me and be glad it was water and I’m allowed to take pictures what kind of fucking museum is this.” the woman snapped

You rolled your eyes, “That’s what bottles of water are for genius.”

That only pissed off the blonde even more, “First of all this use to be soda before I finished it and emptied my water in here second of all fuck you, you’re rude as fuck.”

Both of you glared daggers at each other clearly pissed off. Any other circumstance you would have admired how attractive and how her closed hugged her body just right but not right now. Right now you where actively glaring daggers' at her for being a rude bitch. Why the hell are the hot ones always rude and obnoxious. You wondered

You saw her unlocked phone and narrowed your eyes pointing to a sign, “You can’t take pictures in this section new rule only certain areas are allowed to have pictures taken put that phone away”

“What the fuck. First of all none of the other staffs have said shit the only uptight complaining is you second of all I only took some pictures.” The woman snapped

“I need to check your phone.” You told her. it wasn’t that you where out to get her but it was a rule and this particular area no one was allowed to take pictures ever since last year most museums and locations holding expensive items became more strict

“NO.” The woman all but growled

 “I need to see it.” You said beginning to loose your patients you said hell with professionalism and snatched it looking through the pictures she took earning a protest trying to snatch it back and you stopped her with a sharp glare and grabbing her free hand. You found a few pictures of statues that are pretty heavy. You looked suspiciously at the glaring woman and handed her the phone back.

“We don’t allow phones anymore miss. Put that away.” you told her for the second time sharply

Lou glared at you not appreciating the bad treatment, “Why not the other museums allow it and I don’t appreciate having my phone snatched from me.”

“Not anymore. Blame the moron who decided team up with Klugger and steal that Toussaint necklace. Lucky them the insurance agent is dumb as fuck. No one allows phone anymore let along pictures being taken. Now either chug that drink or I’m snatching it with your phone and not returning them.” you warned and stormed off to try and clean up your top leaving a very pissed off blonde behind.

What the fuck is wrong with her? Fucking rude. You thought pissed off. You spoke sharply through your walky-talky’s earpiece to have someone clean up the spill and stormed off to your office deciding it was better do paperwork than to deal with guests.

~Lou~

It wasn’t until you stormed away when Lou realized you where the woman Debbie mentioned that had all the information and cursed at that.

Great, Getting information from someone like her will be nearly impossible. Lou thought glaring at the spot you where just in.

Lou stormed out of the building determined to get something out of you but knew it will be impossible since she knew you will probably keeping a close eye on her after that horrible interaction. Lou got even more angry when she remembered you boldly snatching her phone and probably erasing some of the pictures she had taken from the interesting objects there.

“Fucking rude uptight b.” Lou complained angrily while driving only to be interrupted by her phone. Lou drove towards the warehouse clearly pissed off evident in her feature, her posture was tense, her jawline clenched and she was gripping her steering wheel tightly. She chose to ignore the phone to annoyed to bother with answering.

[mydrug-is-dragonage]

Veda Adaar, A Letter from Home

The balcony off my room had great light in the morning. The sun shining through the clouds, the crisp mountain air, spring properly arrived and ready to melt into summer. My belly swelled, slowly but surely. No kicks or stirring, a growing bump where they said a child would be. I hid myself in long, flowing robes and oversized tunics. I spent most my days here, staring out the window, feeling the sun on my skin. I wondered if this was the feeling my parents missed, living in this cold land so far from their home. I sighed and looked out at the mountains, so calm with the wars ceased. The sky still bore the thin green scar.

The week after the healer confirmed the child, Lace came into my room with tea. “Hey, V.” I nodded and waved her in. She handed me the cup and we settled onto the sofa. The fire crackled, I pulled my robe closer around me and placed both hands on the warm cup. “I haven’t written the Divine yet,” she said.

“You haven’t written or you haven’t sent it?” I asked.

“Sent. I’ve written a draft,” she said.

“Do we have to send it now?”

“No,” she paused. Her eyes stared at the burning logs. “We will have to tell her soon, though.”

“I suppose we can get it over with. Not like it’ll get any easier,” I sighed. I took a sip of my tea. My hands stayed on the cup, the warmth passing through my palms.

“She’ll make it easier to keep this quiet, if that’s still what you want to do,” she said.

I swallowed and stared out, the sun setting, the chill of the mountains taking over. “I want to keep it quiet. I’ll tell a few friends, in time, but for now it needs to stay with only those we trust the most.”

She nodded. “Have you written your mother yet? We got another two letters from her this week.” I shook my head. “The Divine considers her trustworthy. She hasn’t betrayed any Inquisition secrets thus far.”

“I know,” I said, “I just don’t know how to tell her.” Lace tapped her feet. “Go on, you’ve got a mind full of something.”

“Veda, she loves you. She loved Bull. She’ll be thrilled.” I took another sip of my tea.

“She does love me. She did love Bull. She also loves my father and will certainly tell him,” I said. Lace started to speak, but I interrupted. “Pa never trusted him. He had his reasons, of course.”

“I think he’ll support you more than he hates Bull,” she said.

“You’ve met my father. Do you really believe that?”

“He’s a hardass, but he’s always been bolder in affection than hatred.” I nodded, took another sip of my tea.

“Lace, can you bring me a fresh candle and ink?” She nodded and went to fetch them. I settled into my desk.

Tama,

I’m sorry I haven’t written. Lace tells me she’d get you informed about the immediate developments. I’ll also admit I haven’t read your letters. I’m going to, I keep them in a safe place. I simply haven’t found the time or the gumption. For being so brave, I’m so afraid. I don’t know why. I’ve face dragons and magisters and time travel. I suppose the risk there is death. Dying never seemed as scary.

I remember the stories you told me of when you were a girl. A young apprentice baker, elbows deep in flour. You wanted to be a Tamassaran, raising the children, guiding their growth, comforting their hurts. I suppose it’s the closest thing to motherhood in Par Vollen. They didn’t let you into the priesthood, though. They didn’t let you raise the babies and cuddle them, tend to their wounds. They sent you to a small bakery near the sea. I remember the gull songs you’d sing to me as we wandered along the coastline of the Waking Sea.

Pa never told me the same stories you did. I pieced them together from stories you’d told me. Pa, part of the antaam, stopping by your bakery for bread in the morning. Pa, the good soldier, making jokes as you packed his rations You, the naughty the baker, sneaking him sweetened bread, baked with too much sugar. His hands lingering on yours too long in front of the baker. You two sitting on beach, the sea lapping the shore, your hands finding their way to each other’s again. When I got older and understood the Qun, I always wondered how you weren’t quaking with fear. To love, while not forbidden, was certainly not allowed like this.

When you fled, were you afraid? Crossing through Seheron and Tevinter, Pa joining mercenary companies to gain passage, did you regret it? Did you miss the calm of the bakery, the friends you left behind? Was he worth it? Was I worth it? Were you afraid?

I remember when you sent me off with my first company, an apprentice myself, unsure of the power in my fingertips. I remember Pa standing, arm around you. You held back your tears, but I saw your eyes well up, so afraid for your only child, your only daughter. You wanted more for me than mercenary companies, killing for my dinner. You sang from the Chant of Light, you warned me of magic, yet it came to me anyway, taking me away from you. The first letter I got from you started and ended with, “May the Maker guide you.”

He guided me through mountains and valleys, along the seas. I’d seen the Free Marches, Nevarra, Orlais, the South Western corner of the Anderfels, all while learning to protect myself from demons, manipulate the fade to bend to my very will. The best, of course, was when I’d come home, a year older, a head taller, hardly the child you’d sent away, still so far from real womanhood. You fussed over me so, made goat pies, asked about the places I’d been and the joy I’d found. When you went to bed, Pa and I sat outside, looking towards the sky, the moon so full and hungry. He took a sip of the wine you’d opened, offered me my first glass. He put his arm around me and pointed out constellations. He said something softly, the sounds still ringing in my ears, “We wanted better for you. We wanted safer for you.”

The first time you visited Skyhold, we’d stopped the demon army, but we hadn’t yet gone to Halamshiral to save the empress. You wore a simple cotton dress, you hair braided down your back. Pa put on his nice shirt, his horn caps. You looked so nervous around the nobility. They didn’t know what to make of you. The deafening whispers, everyone so curious about the new Qunari amongst the Inquisition. I heard you sing from some Canticle as you walked towards the throne, up towards my room.

I was scared then, too, my mission unfinished, the Magister still on the loose. When we got to my room you gave me the biggest hug. “My little girl has gone on to be something so much bigger!” You beamed, your own daughter the Herald of Andraste. Pa hugged me too. While I was pressed against him he whispered, “I’m happy you’re safe, for now.” Pa pulled away and glanced at my neck.

The dragon’s tooth was heavy. It rested against my skin, cool and smooth. He didn’t say anything, eyes stuck on the tooth. Your eyes were stuck on me, until Pa’s hand reached your back. Your gaze went where his rested. I can hear your voice now, the surpise and curiosity, “Veda, is that….” your voice trailed off, so Pa, forever your rock, finished for you, “A necklace of the Kadan.” He didn’t share your curiosity.

I said yes. No use in lying to you. I felt my heartbeat in my ears. Your eyes widened when you asked me, “Do you have a Kadan?” I nodded, so unsure and afraid. Not of my love. I knew I loved Bull. I hoped he loved me, but the two of you, seeing me in love with a man closer to your age than mine, a Ben Hassrath agent no less. You two joined me in Herald’s Rest, we found a small table in the corner upstairs. Pa drank a full ale before Bull came to join us. It was awkward, so painfully awkward. When Pa excused himself, I wanted to be sick when Bull said he’d take a walk with him. The men gone, us alone at the table. “He’s,” you thought so carefully about your words, “a lot of man.” I laughed and agreed. You asked if he made me happy.

He did. He made me so happy. He made me happy for years. He made me happy dancing at Halamshiral, he made me happy fighting dragons, he made happy in taverns and campsites, in castles and caves. He held my hand in carriages, he held me in cold storms. He took blows meant for me, he killed foes sent to strike me down. I saw the whole future, I saw the danger you and Pa had lived through. I knew we’d have troubles. I knew he’d be called away from me, but he was mine and he made me so happy, Tama. I couldn’t have loved him more.

I assume you know now what he did. Pa was right. Pa, despite walking with Bull, pulled me into a great big hug before he left. Again, he whispered in my ear, “He’ll never love you more than the Qun.” I shrugged him off. What did Pa know? He didn’t know Bull. He didn’t know me or our circumstances. I thought myself so grown then, barely nineteen, but the most powerful woman in the world. I loved Bull. Bull loved me. I was so sure Bull loved me.

I don’t know if love persists once we return to the Maker’s side. I don’t know if he even gets to return to the Maker. I don’t know what the Qun says happens we die. He obeyed the Qun. He did what the Qun demanded. If there is satisfaction to be had there, he’s earned it. At the cost of himself, at the cost of our love, at the cost of my dignity.

It’s been scarcely two months, his body left to rot near that dragon’s prison. I saw my love struck down before me. Cassandra delivered the killing blow, saving me the anguish of having to kill him myself. He’s dead, Tama. He’s gone. He’s gone forever and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to accept that he loved me and still did this. I don’t know how to accept that he never loved me and felt no guilt. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.

It’s been two months, I’m in Skyhold with Lace and the few others who stayed behind to serve what was the Inquisition. I’m no longer the Inquisitor, I’m no longer a fearsome fighter. I’m no longer someone’s Kadan. I’m just Veda. I’m just Veda and that’s all I’ll ever be. I’ll try to help stop Solas, but I won’t lead the charge. I can’t, not anymore. I’m going to be a glorified advisor, one-armed and tired. All that is so hard to write. Forgive the smudges. I’ve finally cried without violence and I don’t know how to accept any of this, but I do have something I have to tell you.

I’m no longer the Inquisitor, a Valo-Kas mercenary, a Knight Enchanter. But I’m still your daughter, and I’m going to be a mother.

Love,

Veda

Lace sent the raven to my mother, I sat down and finally read her letters, her usual, motherly concern filling each page. Father was doing well, a goat had twin kids. When she’d found out about Bull, the letter was longer. Words about love and loss, the way pain settles in our chest, proving our love mattered at all. Beautiful words, frustrating as they were comforting. I heard her and Thom ringing in my ears. I lounged on the sofa, my hands resting at my side, sometimes settling on the top of it. My stomach was warm and tight. Sometimes my fingers would wander towards my stomach, but I’d pull them away. The child would have to be acknowledged eventually. I would have to care for the child, provide for its needs. But I didn’t have to love it, caress its home. Not yet, not now.

Two weeks passed, visitors came and went, spring got brighter, the documents and plans seemed more convoluted. A sunny afternoon, Lace came to my room with two letters. “I thought you’d want this as soon as possible,” she said. I opened the first, smelled the pages. The light scent of lavender and smoke, the oils mother loved and the constant cooking.

Sweetling,

Asit tal-eb. It is to be. Maraas Kata. Nothing is ended.

Love,

Tama

I held the letter to my chest, weeping. So few words, yet they struck right into my heart. Asit tal-eb, what mother would say whenever we suffered and lost. One summer, before I’d come into my magic, Pa came home furious. He cursed and threw down his sword. They spoke in quick Qunlat, too fast for me to understand. Pa sat down and put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hand. Tama put her arms around his head, rested her head on his. She whispered, “Asit tal-eb,” over and over, stroking his hair. I put my doll aside, walked up beside them. Pa took an arm off Tama’s waist and pulled me into their embrace. She leaned up, dried her eyes, and squatted down to my height. “We’ve got to go, sweetling,” she said. Her voice calm despite it all.

“But I like it here! They’re not even mean at the Chantry!” I said, full of childlike fury.

“They won’t sell us the land,” Pa said. “So we can’t grow food for ourselves. We can’t raise animals of our own.” He sniffed and stared at the wall. His gaze moved down to me, little girl with little horns still budding. “We will try again. Find a new place we can stay. Asit tal-eb.”

I caught my breath and opened the next letter. Instead of my mother’s gentle writing, a harsher, sturdier hand had written it.

Imekari,

Your mother says you are having a child. This means we will be grandparents. I have never known a grandparent. Like parenthood, it is a concept we’ve stolen from the Bas. Regardless, I will inquire with the man who sells wheat what this entails. I presume we will love this child, just as we love you. The stories I’ve heard, being a grandparent is easier. That brings some joy.

I read the letter you sent your mother. I read it a few times. I lost count after seven. You’re not so wrong with your telling of me. I was in the antaam. I tried to make your mother laugh often. We did hold hands when we shouldn’t have. Due to your existence, you know we fled together, children ourselves. We chose love over duty. We abandoned the Qun.

I never told you of the walk Hissrad and I took the day we met. You were right. It was awkward. I hoped for a moment to compose myself. Perhaps find a man to hit me with a stick. Of course, Hissrad chose to join me. We walked along the battlements for some time. He was quiet, as I was quiet. We reached a corner and overlooked the endless mountains. I asked him about the necklace. Your mother and I had never told you of this. Kadans and necklaces of Kadans were a memory we left behind. It had to be his idea. He kept a blank face. I presume he was a very good Hissrad. After some contemplation, he said (translated for your sake), “I mentioned it off hand. We killed a dragon less than a week later. I thought we were just having fun, but she surprised me. She constantly surprises me.” I asked if he loved you. He said yes. I asked if he loved you as the Qunari he was or the Tal-Vashoth he pretended to be. He said (again, translated for your sake. You need to learn more Qunlat. The child should know Qunlat), “Both. I love her as the friend and companion I’d get to have in Par Vollen. I love her as a Tal-Vashoth would love whomever they chose.” When I asked about the Qun and when he’d be pulled back to Par Vollen, he gave meaningless answers. He’d spent too much time around bas, he’d forgotten how to talk to men like men.

Imekari, I was wrong. He’s dead. He died obeying orders. But, presuming this new imekari—Imekari II? Small imekari? Ari-imekari? I’ll discuss with Tama—was not of your planning, he broke the Qun. He knew how to control his seed. We all grow up knowing, waiting to be called for breeding. He made a choice. He violated the Qun.

He died Tal-Vashoth. I wish he had lived to fulfill that betrayal of the Qun. The child will come. Tama and I will come too, to discuss and guide. For now, I’ve enclosed something that gave me great comfort during our great suffering.

You’re still a Kadan. You’ve always been our Kadan.

Your Father,

Beres

Behind his letter there was another piece of paper. I opened it slowly, the creases deep and discolored. Inside was a drawing, crude, of a little house. Two Qunari stood, both smiling. The drawing was labeled, “This will be our house. This is where the goats will sleep. This is where the goats will chase the chickens. This is where Veda will play. This is where Tama will sing to Veda. This is where Pa will squeeze Veda on days the Maker didn’t bring kindness to school.” A smaller Qunari reached both hands up, a parent grabbing each hand. At the bottom, it said, “Home.”

I read and re-read the letter. When my hand drifted to my belly, I let it rest.

[snifflyjoonie]

House Call

In which after a week of contemplation, Jimin finally decides to call Min Yoongi.

snz-centric with Yoongi as the sickie and Jimin as the caretaker.

Word Count: 3325

FlowerShop!AU Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

a/n: Um...surprise? 💀 Taking a break from my regularly scheduled request taking to bring you this pure fever dream word vomit. I went back and forth a lot on the prospects of continuing this AU and decided what the hell -- I had a few more ideas up my sleeve for our little florist yet. And I mean...a few of you asked if I’d be adding more to this AU ever so that technically makes this a request fulfillment, right?...right? Hell. We may even see more of these boys in the future. Who knows? Anyway! Without further delay, I hope you enjoy this random af extra content lol.

-

Oh, god. How long had the phone been ringing for, now? Surely for much longer than normal. 

Jimin paced nervously around his flower shop and chewed anxiously on his thumbnail. After a week’s worth of mulling it over, and some gentle (albeit persistent) encouragement from his friends, he had finally decided to give Min Yoongi a call. For one reason or another — and Jimin wasn’t entirely sure why — he couldn’t get the blonde out of his head. But now that the other man wasn’t picking up his phone, Jimin was quickly starting to believe he may have misinterpreted the other’s advances. 

God. This had been such a dumb idea. Of course Yoongi wasn’t going to answer — why would he? He should just hang up and never think about Min Yoongi ever again in his entire —

The sudden sound of fumbling on the other end of the line made Jimin stop dead in his tracks, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Hello?” A deep, gravelly voice answered. It vaguely reminded Jimin of the way someone might sound after just waking up from a nap, but it was nearly pushing 5pm.

“Um!” The florist cleared his throat and shoved his free hand into the pocket of his trousers. “H-hello is this, uh, Min Yoongi?”

He was met with a brief silence, and for a split second he started to worry that he’d possibly dialed the wrong number before the other finally responded.

“Could be.” The voice hummed with the same deep, croaky tone. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, gosh I’m sorry I-I should have said.” Jimin felt himself start to flush as he stumbled over his words. He was very grateful the two of them weren’t face to face as he knew he’d be even more of a mess than he already was. “This is, um, Park Jimin? From the flower shop?”

“Oh shit, the florist?”

Jimin felt himself nodding. He didn’t know why — the other couldn’t see him. Habitual, he assumed, as he confirmed the other’s statement with a nervous waiver to his voice.

The man on the other end instantly snorted, but it had a very obvious hint of amusement to it. Jimin felt almost as if he could hear the playful smile ghosting his lips through the phone.

“Jimin...why didn’t you just text me?”

Jimin’s expression quickly fell. Right. Texting.

“Oh my god. You’re right I should've just — god. I’m just so used to making calls at the shop, I—“

“Stop panicking, I think it’s cute.” Yoongi cut in with another low chuckle before adding, “Old-fashioned, but cute.”

Jimin flushed even deeper still — he couldn’t help it. He was starting to wish he could go back in time and try the whole exchange over again; possibly even save himself any more potential embarrassment with the anonymity of a text message.

God. Why didn’t he think of that?

The pair stayed silent briefly, the atmosphere heavy and a little awkward, before Yoongi finally broke the dead air with a sniffle.

“So, what’s up? You called?” He sniffled again and quickly added, “Not that I’m not happy to hear from you, of course. I’m glad you reached out.”

Jimin swallowed thickly as he began to resume his anxious pacing. The entire phone call had flowed so much more smoothly when he’d rehearsed it in his head — but now that he was actually executing it, it felt choppy as his confidence steadily dropped. In fact, he debated just hanging up and forgetting the whole thing, but remarkably convinced himself to press on.

“Well, I…” he started, pausing to take a deep breath. “I-it was really nice talking to you the other day, and…I sort of wanted to see if we could, um...get to know each other a little better. So I guess I was, uh, wondering if you might want to grab dinner? Maybe...tonight? With...me…?”

His question hung hauntingly in the air as he waited for Yoongi to say something — anything. Even rejection was better than silence.

“...Dinner?”

Jimin found himself nodding again, his stomach in his throat from the unsure tone in other’s voice.

“If you’re free?” He managed back, his voice catching a bit as he spoke. “I know a, um…really great sushi place.”

“Sorry, but no.” Yoongi’s response was blunt, to the point, and had no trouble instantly making Jimin feel absolutely horrible. Worried he may have overstepped his bounds, the nervous florist wasted no time falling into a self-deprecating, rapid apology.

“O-oh. God. I’m so sorry. Did I...misunderstand? God this was so stupid — look I’m really sorry, Yoongi, I—”

“Jimin. Calm down. I’d love to, just...not tonight.” He broke away from the phone to try and muffle a poorly-timed cough, but Jimin could still hear just how much the sound rattled in his chest. “I caught some kind of bug. I wouldn’t want to pass it along to you.”

There were a million different things Jimin wished he would have said back: “Don’t worry about it” “Your health comes first” “Let’s try again when you’re feeling better”.

Instead however, all that managed to come out of his mouth was a quiet, choked, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi sighed back and it was only then that Jimin started to clue into the way his words sounded much more rounded and nasally. “I have pretty piss-poor timing. But if you would’ve just called me a few days earlier,” His tone was teasing, and if it weren’t for the circumstances, Jimin felt he may’ve smiled.

“I guess I have bad timing then, too.” The florist offered with a meek chuckle, rubbing the side of his neck with his free hand. “I guess we’ll just...take a rain check?”

“Guess so.” Echoed the other before sniffling sharply and breathing out a hurried, “S-sorry, ‘scuse me—” 

Jimin could hear him fumble the phone away from himself before stifling harshly, just barely being able to contain the sudden sneeze that scraped its way out of his throat. Jimin’s own nose twitched in response, his damned phantom itch problem rearing its ugly head, before he quickly scrubbed the feeling away as Yoongi followed up his sneeze with a low, unhappy groan. 

Jimin pursed his lips. The poor guy really did sound awful.

“God, sorry.” Yoongi apologized again after returning the phone to his ear with another sniffle, this one audibly more wet. “Look, I’d love to keep talking, but.” He let out a tired sounding laugh that made Jimin’s stomach fill to the brim with butterflies. “I really feel like shit. Like… ‘wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy’ type of shit. But...I’ll text you, yeah? When I’m feeling better.”

“O-okay, yeah.” Jimin tried to hide the disappointment in his voice as he spoke. “That sounds good. You, uh…just make sure to get lots of rest.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi huffed out an amused breath. “Will do. See ya later, Park Jimin.”

Jimin ended the call and let out a long, defeated sounding sigh. Min Yoongi was sick. Because of course he would be. Jimin wished he could kick himself. If only he had worked up the courage to call him a few days earlier, then maybe, just maybe, he’d be getting ready to go on a nice sushi date with an extremely cute guy. Instead, any thoughts of a potential ‘something more’ had been squashed indefinitely. 

Granted, the other had said he’d reach back out later, but after the way Jimin had stuttered through the phone call he didn’t have very high hopes of ever hearing from the handsome blonde again.

He figured he’d simply try not to let himself think about it, which ended up proving very difficult when he got a curious phone call from his friend Namjoon a mere few minutes later.

“...Sick, huh?” Namjoon gave a sympathetic sigh that somehow just managed to make Jimin feel worse. “Sorry, Jimin. That really is too bad. Doesn’t mean you’ll never hear from him again, though.”

“Yeah...I guess we’ll see.” Jimin grumbled as he flipped his shop’s small ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. “But I’m not holding my breath.”

“Hey, don’t be like that. Give the guy some credit.” Namjoon encouraged with a small scoff. Jimin knew he was being a bit melodramatic, but he didn’t care enough to stop. “What’s this guy’s name, anyway? You never told me.”

“It’s, uh… Min Yoongi.” Jimin murmured, keeping his voice small as if to pretend he didn’t already have the name memorized.

“Wait — Min Yoongi?”

“...Yeah?”

The sound of Namjoon’s sudden laughter bubbled through the phone line and made the florist cock an eyebrow curiously. 

“Jimin — I know the guy.”

Jimin nearly dropped his phone.

“You...know him? Really?”

“Yeah.” Namjoon laughed again, clearly amused. “He used to bartend with me a few years ago. We haven’t spoken in awhile, though. God...what a small world.”

Jimin echoed his laughter, but it sounded much more forced and hollow.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “no kidding.”

There was a brief pause before Jimin heard Namjoon take a deep breath.

“...You said he’s sick?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah.” Jimin hummed in confirmation. “He sounded pretty bad.”

“Well…” Namjoon’s tone had taken on a sing-song quality, reminding Jimin of kids passing secrets in a playground. “Do you want his address?”

“Namjoon, what—”

“To swing by, I mean.” Namjoon was quick to cut in and clarify his intentions. “Maybe drop him off some dinner? To my knowledge he’s never moved.”

“Wouldn’t that be...kinda weird?”

“I mean…” Namjoon seemed to mull it over a moment. “You said he gave you his number, right?”

Jimin hummed a yes.

“Then, no. Not weird. Just tell him I told you where to go.” Jimin could hear Namjoon smiling through the phone. “Jimin. Do you want his address or not?”

“W-well…” Jimin thought it over. “Do you know if he likes sushi?”

*

Jimin stared at the outside of Yoongi’s door as he chewed anxiously on his bottom lip. He barely knew Yoongi, had only ever spoken to him really just the once, and yet there he stood: take-out sushi in one hand and over-the-counter cold meds in the other. A voice in the very back of his mind kept screaming at him to just leave while he still had the chance, before Yoongi realized he had even showed up, but he did his best to try and ignore it. He had already come all this way, bought all these things, now the very least he could do would be to deliver them. With a nervous sigh, Jimin mustered up every ounce of courage he had left and quickly rapped his knuckles against the hardwood of Yoongi’s door.

Sure enough, a raspy cough could be heard approaching from inside of the small flat, and not a minute later, the door started to unlatch and pull open.

Jimin watched with a tight-lipped smile as Min Yoongi’s head slowly peeked into view, his eyes squinting against the bright rays of sunlight that streamed in through the open door. His bleached blonde hair was disheveled with sleep, sticking out in ways that made him look much younger than he actually was. He had a tissue crumpled in one hand that he kept tightly pressed against the base of his red, raw nose, and he wore a pair of black glasses that, for one reason or another, Jimin just simply had never pictured. 

He had only seen the man one other time previously, but his rumpled, sickly appearance still somehow managed to catch Jimin a bit off guard. Out of everything though, the part that easily surprised Jimin the most were the beautiful floral tattoos that ran up and down Yoongi’s small arms. They seemed to stop just before his wrists and extend upwards towards his shoulders, and if the splash of colour at the base of his v-neck was anything to go by, they clearly bled their way onto his chest as well.

“...Jimin?” Yoongi’s voice dripped heavily with congestion and made him sound as if his nose was stuffed full of cotton. He took a deliberate step into the space created by his open door, seemingly trying to stop the other’s view inside, and ran a hand through his messy hair. “How the fuck did you…?”

“Uh! Well, do you know Kim Namjoon…?” Jimin watched Yoongi’s glassy eyes soften as he seemed to recognize the name. “He’s, uh, a friend of mine from high school. He passed along your address when I told him you weren’t feeling well. You sounded pretty awful on the phone so I just thought I’d…” Jimin trailed off sheepishly and raised both of the bags in his hands up a little higher as if that was somehow a good enough explanation.

“So you decided to make a house call, huh?” Yoongi scoffed, “...You really are old-fashioned.” He turned his upper body in towards his apartment and coughed roughly against his fist before facing Jimin again. “I don’t even know what to say. This is—” He gestured to the two bags as he searched for the right words, “—very sweet. Thank you.”

Jimin felt his cheeks grow warm as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. At this point, the logical thing to do would be to hand the poor man over the food and medicine and be on his way. But for one reason or another, Jimin couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to miss an opportunity to chat with the man he’d somehow become so heavily infatuated with. That’s why instead, without too much of a second thought, Jimin simply found himself blurting out: “I brought enough food for two. Do you think I could come in?”

Yoongi seemed to hesitate a moment at the other’s forward request before he stole a glance over his shoulder at the room behind him.

“I mean...yeah, alright.” He shrugged and ran a knuckle against the underside of his nose, sidestepping out of the doorway so Jimin could enter. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors, so uh, sorry about the mess.”

Jimin shook his head in understanding as he waddled his way into Yoongi’s flat, kicking off his shoes in the doorway. He passed the plastic medicine bag over to the other as Yoongi mumbled something about looking for a facemask before Jimin allowed himself a quick moment to look around. 

The walls of the flat were filled with stunning floral artwork, and many half-finished easels were scattered in small stacks along the floor. Yoongi had a sketchbook laid out on his coffee table next to a pile of used tissues and a cup of what Jimin assumed could only be tea. The air smelt vaguely of eucalyptus and menthol and there was a gentle beat of music playing from his television.

“Are you...an artist?” Jimin couldn’t help but ask as he shuffled his way towards the coffee table to set down the food. He stole a glance at Yoongi’s open sketchbook and cracked a smile at the beautiful sunflower drawings the other had been working on.

“In a sense.” Yoongi affirmed, joining Jimin by the coffee table with a facemask now resting beneath his chin as he pulled a tissue from a nearby box. “I’m a tattoo artist.” 

The surprised expression on Jimin’s face was enough to coax a small chuckle out of Yoongi as the blonde wrapped the new tissue around his nose and twisted his upper body away to blow.

“I didn’t even know you had tattoos.” Jimin admitted as he started laying out the containers of sushi onto the table. “You were in a jacket the last time I saw you.”

Yoongi hummed in remembrance as he switched the pressure of his fingers from nostril to nostril to try and clear himself out. 

“Not a fan?” He asked teasingly after finishing, coughing lightly against his fist as he threw the tissue into a nearby bin.

“Oh Yoongi, are you kidding?” Jimin gasped, shifting his attention from their sushi dinner to the artwork that stained Yoongi’s skin. “They’re beautiful.”

Jimin could tell Yoongi seemed a bit taken aback by his sincerity as a small pink blush started to dance its way across the man’s face. He offered him a warm smile before plopping himself down onto the sofa with a small grunt. 

“All the rolls are, uh, basically the same.” Jimin explained as Yoongi took a seat adjacent to him. “I just doubled my normal order, so I hope you like it.”

Yoongi nodded, dabbing his wrist against his nose as he made a grab for one of the containers and a pair of wooden chopsticks. If he seemed at all put off by Jimin’s sudden appearance on his doorstep he didn’t show it. Instead, the man continued to carry himself with an air of nonchalance that left Jimin wondering what he might have been thinking about the whole situation. 

Suddenly, an urgent sounding sniffle from Yoongi pulled Jimin from his train of thought as the older man hurriedly set his container of food back onto the coffee table. He gasped in a way that bordered on sounding erotic and swiftly tried to yank his mask over the lower half of his face. Turning his upper body as far from Jimin as he possibly could, Yoongi finally fell into himself with three sneezes that he tried to crush into the crook of his elbow.

“hH’INGx’shh! ‘NNGT’tshh! hH’ISSHhh’hiuu!” He rose back up with a harsh sniffle and pulled his glasses from his face. “Jesus, fuck. I’m sorry.” He grumbled as he smooshed the heel of his palm against the corner of one eye.

Jimin shook his head, bringing a sweater-donned hand up to cover his nose and mouth as Yoongi stole some tissues from a nearby box.

“Don’t be sorry.” The florist managed, his own nose itching empathetically from Yoongi’s sudden outburst. He did his best to fight the feeling — his sympathy sneezing always made him feel a bit silly — but his fight proved to be in vain as he sucked in a shuddering breath through his teeth and rocked forward against his sleeve with a single breathy sneeze.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at him from behind a tissue, chuckling slightly mid blow.

“I told you we should’ve done this a different day.” He joked as Jimin scrubbed his nose against his sleeve. “Now look at you.”

“No, no, I’m really fine, trust me.” Jimin assured as Yoongi finished blowing his nose. 

“Oh, that’s right. You ‘just sort of sneeze a lot’. How could I forget?”

Jimin buried his face into the sleeves of his sweater and groaned, cringing at the memory as Yoongi placed his sushi container back into his lap with a laugh.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed.” He snapped his wooden chopsticks in two before continuing. “I was a mess the last time you saw me. Honestly I’m shocked you even called me.”

Jimin let out an airy chuckle at the memory of Yoongi’s first appearance in his shop a week prior. The poor man couldn’t have been in the shop for more than five minutes before the sickly sweet aroma of the flora overwhelmed him. With the memory now fresh in his mind, Jimin once again turned his attention to the beautiful sunflower drawings in Yoongi’s sketchbook.

“Honestly I’m a bit surprised to see all the floral artwork you have. I mean...even your tattoos.” He gestured towards one of Yoongi’s arms with another small giggle. “With an allergy like yours I guess I just assumed you wouldn’t be a fan.”

“Hey, I told you before — I love flowers.” Yoongi popped a piece of sushi into his mouth before continuing. “They just don’t love me back.”

“Well I mean, if it’s any consolation, I’m a florist and so far I don’t dislike you.”

“Hey,” Yoongi snorted. “That works for me.”

[kri-babe]

A Bad Experience ᅳ Word Count: 2143 Summary: TAKE THE TRASH OUT. Warning: Implied Sexual Assault. Murder.

I was a pretty average kid. I wasn’t excessively popular, but I wasn’t an outcast either. I liked my silence and my own company, but I didn’t mind the company of my friends either. I had my own little pack of misfits that I ran with but we were average kids. We hung out where we could, but it wasn’t all that often between our classes or after school. My best friend in school was… sort of unorthodox, and a lot of people would have probably questioned it, and had my mom been any better, she would’ve told me to stay the fuck away from him.

And with good reason…

Mr. Rhodes was the school janitor; dressed persistently in a dark blue jumpsuit, and jingling whenever he walked because of the keys he carried on his belt. He was a fairly recluse guy, and the other kids thought he was pretty creepy. I think that was because of the fact that he had this weird tendency to turn up in random places, or… maybe it was the scars that mangled the side of his face. Hell, now that I think back on it, it could’ve even just been the vibe he put off. The smile that was just a little too friendly… the dark eyes that were just a little… too happy.

I guess I was a bad read of people…

But for whatever unfortunate reason, I liked Mr. Rhodes… I spoke to him regularly whenever I saw him, treated the guy like he was just another friend of mine. He was friendly enough, and he didn’t treat me like I was just some dumb fuckin’ kid in his way, wasting his time.

I never told him about it, but I think he put it together anyway - the problems back at home. He’d told me one day that I could hide out in the janitor’s closet if I ever needed a place away from everyone else. I hadn’t thought anything of it. Just a friendly gesture from a decent guy everyone overlooked because he had an unsavory job, and scars on his face.

I never once stopped to wonder why he was working at that school, why he was a janitor, and why the other kids avoided him… why the teachers avoided him. I never really thought beyond the idea that they were just mean. That maybe it was pack instinct that kept the flock together, safe in their numbers where the wolf couldn’t easily get to them.

No, I had to be the black sheep - the one that sticks out like a sore thumb, all the easier to snatch.

Too bad I didn’t see his fangs until he found me in the janitor’s closet one day. It’d been a shit day, mom was off her meds, had thrown away some of my stuff because it was ‘Satanic’. I didn’t want to put up with the teachers, nor the other kids, so I hunkered down in that little, cramped closet to just ride the day out. Where the fuck else was I going to go? Home? As if. If only I’d thought of some place else. If only I’d refused to trust him too.

He asked how long I’d been there, and I told him since school started. Guess that meant no one would notice one missing kid. The minute he closed the door, I felt something. A sinking brick in my gut and it only got worse when Mr. Rhodes knelt beside me, rubbed my back and told me that it’d all be okay. He could make it better. … I must’ve been twelve.

I stayed in the closet for the rest of the day. I was too scared to come out until well after school had ended….

I told her anyway. I knew she wouldn’t hear it, I knew she wouldn’t believe me. I knew she wouldn’t be on my side. But sometimes… just… sometimes. She was mom. I told her anyway. I felt the strike far before I had seen it coming.

“No son of mine will be an incubus, not in this house. God will excise this evil from you, you pustulant seductor.”

I still have scars from the whipping.

So… what now…

What do you do when your childhood fucking rapist comes into your place of work… and recognizes you…?

“Well, well,” Chimed a familiar, snake-like voice from just a few steps behind.

Alby blinked tiredly a few times, staring at the bleary image of the DVD cases in the cart and in his hands. As per the norm, the night had been slow - Blockbusters wasn’t really what it used to be, and the few customers he did get were often high as hell, and just looking for cheap movies to rent. He’d had maybe one other customer earlier that evening, before he’d set to putting back the returns.

Another blink, Alby slowly frowned as it pushed its way back to the surface - that rotten, fetid trauma he’d buried years ago. The boy straightened, blinking, and turned his head to peer over his shoulder as Rhodes stepped nearer, grinning just like the wolf he’d always been. Alby’s frown hardened as his good eye slowly cleared from the haze of the pot that clouded his head.

“If it isn’t little Alby… and you’ve grown up to be so handsome too… I’m honestly surprised to still see you around, kiddo… I was so sure your mother would be the end of you…” He reached closer, tilting Alby’s chin in his direction with a finger to better see the patch that was taped over the young man’s right eye. “Looks like she might still be,” He smirked, releasing him then, and instead, placed his hand over Alby’s back.

Broad, slender - he’d shot up like a beanstalk since they had last seen each other. Rhodes looked no different somehow, and Alby wasn’t sure how to take that. But the hand over his back summoned something from the depths of his being. A cold sweat broke out over his porcelain skin and Alby could feel a tremble push its way into his arms and fingers.

“So, how’s life been, kiddo…?” Alby frowned again, staring silently at Rhodes. Was this a joke? Was this guy just… playing fucking stupid? Like they’d always been buddy buddy? Like he fucking hadn’t raped him all those years ago? What was this? Was he trying to get cozy with him so he could do it again?

“What’s the matter, Alby~? Cat got your tongue?”

Rhodes’ hand slid lower, and whether that was to withdraw or not didn’t matter anymore when Alby suddenly exploded into motion with a left hook that connected directly with Rhodes’ jaw. He fell like a sack of bricks and Alby stood there in total silence once more - naught but the sound of his own shaky breathing to accompany him as he glared down at Rhodes’ body. He must have hit him just right… and certainly just hard enough, his knuckles protested about it.

Fuck…

What the fuck was he going to do with this fucker… call the police? But for what… a crime he’d committed twelve years ago? This was assault… and he was positive that his boss wasn’t going to be happy about his one fucking employee assaulting a customer…

The walkie-talkie on the back of Alby’s hip crackled and popped, and there it came: his boss’s chipper voice.

“Hey, Al, you there, bud~?”

He’d never seen the guy’s face, but his manager was always so weirdly happy… it was unsettling at best.

“Fuck…” Alby breathed, still shaking as he pulled the walkie-talkie off his belt and brought it to his lips, “Y-yeah, what’s up?” Just… be calm. Act normal. Everything was fine. He never even came into the store, and it was late. They were just between the shelves. No one would know.

“Hey, Al, there ya are! Listen, bud!” Popped the walkie.

“Remember what I told you about the trash? Those no-good lay-about trash guys don’t come by anymore, so there’s an incinerator in the basement of the building you can use to take out the trash! It’s pretty big, too, remember? So don’t fall in!”

Alby shook harder, blinking widely.

He was so sure he could hear something else just under his boss’s peppy voice. Something unnatural, just under the static, like worms in the dirt, whispering the earth’s secrets into his ears.

‘T̴̨̥̥̮̖̮̠̰̗͖̘̺͒̂̿̅͠Ā̴̫̖̬̜̝̟̠̥̿͌̃͐ͅK̶̟̻̤̼͇̭̻̗̖̖̮̤̺̺̅̐̐̊̀̅̔̈́͑̔̄̀̕̚͝ͅE̶͔̥̺̩̖͓̗̱͉̤̮̭̲͎̺̫̋͛̋̒̊̄̕ ̶̧̬̙͉̮̦̮̭̘͙͌̈́̈Ţ̶̨̛̛̫͖̙̫̺̘̰̘̳̮̘̞̊̏̅͊͋̍͂̄̅́̌͜͠͠͝ͅH̸̨̟͕͍̝̠̫̔̏̓͘͜͝Ě̶̡̨̨͖̫͚͇͍̰̻̪̭̰̃̈́́̈́̌̇̔̒̂̑́̉̿̓̑͘ͅ ̴̭̮͍̟̩̯̍̉͂̂̒͗̀̈́̐̒͘T̷͓̱͎͔̦̫̲̹̰̠̬̤̹͂R̸̡̹͔͓̳͎̣̗͙̥͙̱̯̂͊̌̽͗̈́̎̅̇͘͝A̴̳̳̤̣͐̑̄͘ͅS̷̩̲͖͒̏́̆̋Ḩ̶͔̥͉̪͓͉͇̠̭̓͋̀͒͘͜ ̸͇͎̘̮̀̊͐̈͋̽̑̇̔̄̋̈́͜͝͠Ơ̷̡̳̰̳͈͙̙̞͔̹̦͍͋̋̑̿̿͂̾̊̀̓͑̎̕̕͘̚U̶͔̩̘͖͖̗͚̞̲͓̬̟̥̺̅̓̂͑̏́͝͠͝T̸̺̹̤̮̆̓̽̈́̀̒̉͒̄̓̀̒͒͠,̶̪̤̯̖̩̯̘̾̒͊̇̂͂͗̑̂͋͋̈́̏͐̏͜͝ͅ ̶̡̡̣͓̠̭̫̟̫͕̔͆͋̈́̈́̌̊̓̈́̍͌̈́̔̐́̾͜͝A̵̲͓̝͚͚̖͖͙͉̹͍̗̦͙͔̭̞͑͊̃̓̿̑̓̑̾̃͊L̵̨͖̣̜̬̜̮̲̦̞̥̑̓͑̄͌̎̿͛̈́̈̂͝Ḇ̷̯͎̝̮̯͖͈̰͔̦͕̫̭̬̙̉̉̅ͅY̵̡̪̹̲͚̭͈̞͚̆̓͒̍̚͘͝͝͠.̷͚̳̘̜͙̺̝̳̌̀̔̑͒͗̐̌̈̃͌͝͠͝’

Alby swallowed, and looked back down at the body that lay sprawled across the carpeted flooring, lips working to form words he couldn’t find the ability to add noise to.

“Still there, Al!?” He jolted.

“Y-yeah, yeah, sorry, I’m here. I-I -- I’m on it, boss.” The walkie was hooked back onto his belt and Alby slowly exhaled.

Did he… know…? There was no fucking way this was coincidence. Trash day was usually at the end of the week… it was fucking Tuesday.

Could he do this…?

The basement door swung open, and Alby panted softly, grunting as he readjusted the man draped over his shoulder and slowly began down the steps into the blackness of the basement. There were lights, but the incinerator was often just bright enough that its orange glow was more than enough to light his way. That… beast of a machine. Steel and fire - the belly of a dragon, and the teeth to match.

When he first came to work here, there was no basement. There was no incinerator. There were large trash bins outside that the garbage men would occasionally come get, because the Blockbuster didn’t produce enough trash. Alby was the only employee. But after a time, he’d gotten word from his boss that the garbage men wouldn’t be stopping by anymore. They’d decided the place wasn’t worth the stop anymore, due to how infrequently they had to pick up from it.

The next day, there was a note about the basement. The incinerator. The shop never shut down. There were no construction workers. There was no equipment. No signs that the building had been added onto. It was just… there.

Every step thunked down the stairs as Alby disappeared down into that blackness, and squinted the moment he came around the corner to face the incinerator. It didn’t often make much noise… but it was growling now. Like a ravenous beast, it’s teeth clanking against its jaw in anticipation. Alby hesitated. He often wondered if this fucking thing was alive… the way it acted. But it was so easy for him to chalk it up to the fact that it was probably just funky machinery. He swallowed, and drew nearer, pulling the lever to open the jaws of this hellbeast which roared hungrily, releasing a burning belch of hot air into the basement. Alby squinted against the blast, and stared into those roaring flames.

The weight on his shoulder never felt heavier… and he wasn’t sure he could do this…

The guy… raped him but… this was murder, and no one would ever know…

But they never knew about his rape, either, did they…?

The walkie talkie crackled and popped, fuzzing loudly against the rumbling of the incinerator. There were no words that spilled through the static, and yet… he could hear that distant sound once again. As if there was just… too much interference, or the frequency wasn’t

quite right.

‘T̴̨̥̥̮̖̮̠̰̗͖̘̺͒̂̿̅͠Ā̴̫̖̬̜̝̟̠̥̿͌̃͐ͅK̶̟̻̤̼͇̭̻̗̖̖̮̤̺̺̅̐̐̊̀̅̔̈́͑̔̄̀̕̚͝ͅE̶͔̥̺̩̖͓̗̱͉̤̮̭̲͎̺̫̋͛̋̒̊̄̕ ̶̧̬̙͉̮̦̮̭̘͙͌̈́̈Ţ̶̨̛̛̫͖̙̫̺̘̰̘̳̮̘̞̊̏̅͊͋̍͂̄̅́̌͜͠͠͝ͅH̸̨̟͕͍̝̠̫̔̏̓͘͜͝Ě̶̡̨̨͖̫͚͇͍̰̻̪̭̰̃̈́́̈́̌̇̔̒̂̑́̉̿̓̑͘ͅ ̴̭̮͍̟̩̯̍̉͂̂̒͗̀̈́̐̒͘T̷͓̱͎͔̦̫̲̹̰̠̬̤̹͂R̸̡̹͔͓̳͎̣̗͙̥͙̱̯̂͊̌̽͗̈́̎̅̇͘͝A̴̳̳̤̣͐̑̄͘ͅS̷̩̲͖͒̏́̆̋Ḩ̶͔̥͉̪͓͉͇̠̭̓͋̀͒͘͜ ̸͇͎̘̮̀̊͐̈͋̽̑̇̔̄̋̈́͜͝͠Ơ̷̡̳̰̳͈͙̙̞͔̹̦͍͋̋̑̿̿͂̾̊̀̓͑̎̕̕͘̚U̶͔̩̘͖͖̗͚̞̲͓̬̟̥̺̅̓̂͑̏́͝͠͝T̸̺̹̤̮̆̓̽̈́̀̒̉͒̄̓̀̒͒͠,̶̪̤̯̖̩̯̘̾̒͊̇̂͂͗̑̂͋͋̈́̏͐̏͜͝ͅ ̶̡̡̣͓̠̭̫̟̫͕̔͆͋̈́̈́̌̊̓̈́̍͌̈́̔̐́̾͜͝A̵̲͓̝͚͚̖͖͙͉̹͍̗̦͙͔̭̞͑͊̃̓̿̑̓̑̾̃͊L̵̨͖̣̜̬̜̮̲̦̞̥̑̓͑̄͌̎̿͛̈́̈̂͝Ḇ̷̯͎̝̮̯͖͈̰͔̦͕̫̭̬̙̉̉̅ͅY̵̡̪̹̲͚̭͈̞͚̆̓͒̍̚͘͝͝͠.̷͚̳̘̜͙̺̝̳̌̀̔̑͒͗̐̌̈̃͌͝͠͝’

There it was again - that compulsion. This subtle… feeling. Like someone or something was just… gently pushing on his mind. On his thoughts. Compelling him, his wants. With a deep breath, and another soft grunt, Alby bounced the man from his shoulder, and into the blazing fires of the furnace, tossing in his legs to follow the body as embers shot out in every direction. He hadn’t even fully straightened when those steel jaws banged shut, and Alby threw a widened brown eye over the lever. Was it faulty…? Holy shit.

The blow to his jaw wasn’t enough to keep Rhodes down now… the screaming started shortly after, and Alby couldn’t take his eyes off the furnace as that blackening silhouette within thrashed and struggled frantically for an escape that would not be found.

It couldn’t have lasted for more than a few minutes… but those minutes felt like an eon, and Alby knew Rhodes suffered… too bad it was over so soon.

He stared quietly at the furnace as the roaring dulled to a soft, content rumble, fingers shaking by his thighs as he searched in vain for signs that Rhodes yet remained within that beast’s blazing belly.

The walkie talkie popped and fuzzed.

There were no clear words again… but he could have sworn that he heard the faintest sound of a voice… just… just out of range.

'̶̒̄͒͛̆̈́��̡͙̗͔̏̐̃̈́̎͝Ṋ̷̱̙̝̋́͐̑̀̋̐̽̽̐͂̆͐͝Ơ̵͔̒̀͋̋̌̂B̸̖̞̘̬̥̺͓̜̘̟͙̥̑̍͑́̍̈́̿̉̈́̽͑̏̀͘ͅO̸̡̬͉̞̱̪͚̭̼̬͉͊̉̆͛̍̒̊D̷̥̩̮̈̃̊̈́͂͊̔͑̈́̽̇͘̚ͅẎ̵̦̺̯̣̦̲̣̐̽̀͆̽̊̏̃ ̷̨͖̖̪̥̹̣̠͕͔̤͎͍̹̽̈̕͝L̵͔̜͇͖̮̰͙̤̰̠̂́̄̓̌̑̄̐̈̚͝Ǐ̸̗̭̬͍̬͙̗̘͔̃͝͠ͅK̸̙̼͙̳̹̫͚̩͎͍̈́ͅȄ̵͙̏̉̏͛̈̎̒̐̆̿Ş̴̧͙̤̳̤̅̿̈̉́̌͂̐̿͠͝͠͠ ̵̢͙͍̮̳̐̅͐̀͐̅͗͂̈́́̈́A̸̧͉̟̯͔̠̮͚̻̭͑̿͒̈̿̅͒͛͛̽͠ ̶̡̢̹̭͉̳̙̣̺̘̍͂́̏͝K̵̻͉̳̘͍̩̦͎̱̙̩̝͍͌͒̈́̐̃͘͜I̵̺̝̣̩͕̱̱͇͔̊̅͒D̴̨͔̘͎̝̫͕͙͚̥̦̘̙̳̀̔͑͘D̵͔̤͓̗͈͍͕̱͎̭̀Ī̴̱̲́̇͂̐͠Ē̶̡̪̅́̑̃͊̎̐́͐̂̊̓ ̵̨̱͎͚̣͖̘͓̻̬̗͖͊̊̉̇̽͑̓̋͊̾̾F̶̡̡͈̭̼͇͇͎̙̂̽͛͐͒̈́̅̉̎Ḭ̷̧̛̮̤̣͓̖͈̐̏̀̅͗́͘͝D̸̛̦͊D̸̡̢͈̞͙͔̜͖̖̮̻͖̒͆̆̒̆̿͋̌̒́̅̚͘͠Ļ̵̻̼͚̝́̿͋̚E̸̝͎͍͂̇̽̃͋͊̐͌͝͠ͅR̶̡̞͉̞̩̱̝͚̗͙̦̐́̉̑̈́̆̀͌̀̾̅͘ͅ'̷̨̧͔̣̜̺̪̰̜̦̮̖̺͑̂̃̊̔͂̈̀͐̃͜

[thisdreamplace]

Hey!

I met my sp almost 2 years ago (2019) and since then i fell in love with him. we went on some dates tho, he rejected me later. at that time i didn't know about the law so i reacted a lot to the 3D and manifested some 3rd parties and arguments with him. he blocked me tho and we went no contact. i found out about loa and it confused me a lot cause everyone said smth different. also i was focused on manifesting a text message rather than living in the end. altough i always tried to shift my focus, i lived in a lot of anxiety. also his social media acc is a trigger point and i try to avoid it for my best.

so he texted me in may 2020 and i was shaking so much (what a dumbass) and we messaged all night, it was some nasty sh*t. at the end of the chat he said that it was all a joke and that it was all his buddy. i felt so hurt and was so shaken up by the fact, that he played me like that? also really naive of me to let it go so far. so i went no contact and texted him one week later with alot anxiety. as u guess, he was so mean and told me some hurtful things. so i let him. i didn't know about neville back then. i went no contact, til he texted me in dec 2020, it was bc i saw his story) he apologized and he was really kind to me. we messaged again at night, but it was some fwb thing again. he told me he wanted to meet up but then he ghosted me. yea.. i texted him and he said he writes with another girl. and i was like "???" i told him good luck and went no contact.. he then unadded me a month later in jan 2021 which threw me away from my mental diet and so on.

What i am trying to say is that i am really disappointed that i can't seem to reach a point where he sees me more than a chick with a body. i wanted him to be interested in me, to show me love. to open up to me, a relationship! i tried all things, methods, meditations, sats. i am always feeling like i am not doing enough , i am searching for evidence i trigger myself with his socialmedia or some things that happened.

i dont know what went wrong. one thing that bothers me also is that he makes music and wants to gain fame which means that girls have his attention or he thinks he is something better. i also have a feeling of i can't reach him cause i feel like i am not that good for him. he is the kind of guy who had a hard life which messed him up.

also i am feeling nostalgic as soon as i am going somewhere. it's a feeling of " i rather be here with him than alone or with anybody else" time is also a factor which messes with my mind. i wanted to move away and idk how that will mess with my manifestation and his music career is also a thing which makes me anxious.

even now i am trying my best, but it seems like everyday is the same day. i wonder if our relationship will even happen..

i am not living in the old story, i just wanted to let it all out and u seem like a person who would get this. i hope u can give me some tips. i don't wanna sound dumb but yea my story is a bit messy. thank u for reading it, i appreciate ur time. u are my last hope!

Hey!!

Thanks for feeling free to share all of this. Sometimes it really does help just to get all this out, so you can continue moving forward freely.

The truth is, I can see where you went wrong clearly. In all honesty, your self concept has been neglected. And remember, when speaking of self concept it is much deeper than self esteem, but of course, why wouldn’t you want a high self esteem too? Anyway, you have put all of your effort into him. Every technique you did was for him, everything you have done has been entirely for him. And yet, the gag is, you are the one who has to change. He cannot possibly change without you having changed first. Because this is your reality and that’s just how the law works.

So, for example, all those times you took anything he’s willing to give you. You listed everything you wanted... but you quickly settled for less. What does that say about your self concept? It has nothing to do with him, although I know we do like to feel comfortable pointing the finger. When it comes to sp manifestations though, I will be completely honest in this way. There’s a big responsibility we have to take that may feel uncomfortable to do, since we are used to living in a world where people hurt us and we feel sad and blame them. We expect them to do something to make us feel better or we cut them off. Though, there is no one to blame here. There’s only full responsibility to take. There’s just you who will need to choose whether you are worth taking the responsibility of changing your life.

So all that being said, here’s some tips, based off what you said. Firstly, I would fully suggest you take a step back and focus on yourself. It’ll be scary, for sure. It’ll be uncomfortable, for sure. Especially because you spent so much time on him. But you have to be honest with yourself. Has that time paid off? The truth is, you have nothing to lose. Either things will stay the same or you will finally experience all you ever wanted to. But you must decide you are worth the risk of leaving those comforts behind.

So, as you focus on yourself you need to be thinking about how you see yourself in relation to the world, first. Are you worth it? Are you able to have anything you want? Are you limited or limitless? Do you see yourself as creator of your reality or a victim to your reality? Do what you need to do to begin answering these questions. You want to move into a state where you are able to answer positively to each of these questions. You do that through persistent practice. Through reminding yourself of who you truly are and how you can have anything you want. How you are worth all of the effort. How your desires are yours already, so you truly have nothing to worry about it. Remember, you do all this for you. Not for anyone or anything else.

As you get comfortable with your self concept and who you truly are as creator of your reality, you could allow yourself to start thinking of your sp again. Not as the center of your world, because you are already the center of the world. There is no one to change but self. But you can begin to lift him up in your mind, as you have lifted yourself up. You wrote exactly how you feel he is, and the truth is, if you continue seeing him like that he has no choice but to play that role. So, choose a new story. How is he really? He is successful in his music career and so what? He is so lucky to have you by his side. All those options you mentioned? They never meant anything, because you are the only one he wants. He doesn’t see anyone other than you. You are first best, you are the only best. He treats you like the God you already are. Because you have been God this entire time, and focusing on your self concept as the first step will help you to accept all these wonderful things about your sp.

I understand your feeling, of feeling nostalgic and just wanting to be with your sp. Let those feelings come up, don’t feel the need to run from them. They’re so valid. People in relationships still miss their person when they’re apart, no? It’s not a big deal. In fact, it’s important not to run from those feelings. Cry it out, throw a fit if you so feel the need to do so. Then brush yourself off and get back into your God energy. Because it’s always waiting for you, at all moments. The unconditional love that your Godself is, is always welcoming you in. You just have to remember to choose to allow yourself to feel it. Time seems so scary in the outer world, but the hard fact is you can be worried about time all day and it’s not going to change anything. So, benefit yourself and actively work on letting it go. Accept it’s not even real, no matter how much your ego will want to hold onto believing it is. Time isn’t running out, everything is happening perfectly Your relationship with your sp is yours and everything has it’s own appointed hour. All you have to do is accept it and allow yourself to enjoy the journey, or even dislike the journey some days if that’s what you’re feeling like. Stop judging everything and allow it to be instead.

You got this!! Hopefully you find this helpful. We all cannot wait to hear your lovely success story!! 💖

[resinatingbeauty]

In Memory of The Best Friend I Ever Had - RIP Shadow (assumed)- 4/30/2021

Shadow showed up at my parents house where I lived at the time, one night back in 2016. I had just gotten home from working at a local country club late in the evening, tired, and physically burnt out from working 40+ hours a week on top of going to college for my associates degree. I saw something pass by the driveway out of the corner of my eye. Something massively fluffy, tail straight up in the air, trotting along. There are many feral cat colonies in this town and many cat owners that lived on that street. Needless to say, I didn't expect this one to whip back around and start chirping at me, rubbing my legs after I called to her.

My mother was adamant when my last two cats had past 8 or so years prior that she wasn't looking for any more pets. My mom loves animals, but she also loves her home and was thinking about doing renovations before adopting any new companions. I knew I was in trouble when this cat came to me with nothing but affection, clearly malnourished, but strangely well groomed. I knew she had to be owned by someone, I had no idea who.

That night I went inside after spending some time enjoying her company. At the time, I was calling 'Charlemange'' as a play on 'Charlemagne'. I had been taking a medieval humanities course at the time and the name seemed fitting enough considering how much scraggly fur she had. Huge paws. Big, fluffy tail and mane. I had never seen a cat so gorgeous around the area. All the feral cats are short hairs, reinforcing my notion that she had to be someone's pet.

I watched through the window slit of the front door as Charlemange played with the moths and other bugs that were attracted to the lamp post my parents have at the end of the driveway and regretted leaving her out there.

I simply thought that Charlemange would return home where she belonged. When I went out to my back screened in patio, whom do you think was waiting for me? Meowing? Charlemange. To my mother's horror, she would launch herself at the screen and hang there to get our attention. Imagine this big ass cat hanging from your screened in porch you've been trying to renovate by all her claws.

She was persistent and Charlemange NEVER returned home, wherever home was.

Eventually, I sealed the deal, low key giving her a can of tuna. Now you see how Shadow went from Charlemange to Shadow.

For about a month, all I had to do was make a high pitched noise and Shadow would come out of wherever brush she was stalking, running and talking until she found me. One evening, I went to give her her dinner, and she shot in the front door.

Mortified, I watched as she scooted right into the one place that I dreaded her to go. My parent's room. That night, as a 20 something, I received a lecture from my father about how my mother felt about pets. 'She isn't a kitten, you know,' he said, 'thats a grown cat. Someone else's cat.'

I just listened and acknowledged what he was saying. I knew there was no point trying to explain what exactly happened. When my dad got done going off on the back porch and went back in to bed, I heard a meow from the patio door. Shadow had been standing at the door, waiting for him to leave , almost like she was saying, 'Hey, I'm really sorry about that, sis,'

Shadow would go on to live in or around the property for nearly a month. I made an effort to find her owners and return her to no avail. Eventually, a single mom I had been working as a private tutor for as a side hustle agreed that she would take Shadow. This would only last for a few months. The family had another cat, Karma, whom had been declawed (I abhor this) and two little girls who had no respect for animals (especially cats) because of this. I knew how the oldest handled Karma and my only solace in handing Shadow over was that I knew she wouldn't be hit by a car, would be fed, loved to a degree, and would scratch the shit out of them if they fucked up.

Their mother ended up calling me, giving me money to bring Shadow in to the humane society, saying she was a wonderful cat, just not the best fit for the girls. I could only imagine what Shadow went through at that house, because the time there changed her. The collar I had on her was returned to me snapped in two. It looked like it had been pulled off. I cringed thinking about it and never put another collar back on that cat. At the time, a woman had been busted hoarding 100+ cats that had all been relinquished to the humane society and local rescues. The humane society's solution for most was euthanasia and I wasn't about that for Shadow. Back to my backyard she went.

Eventually, Shadow won over my mother and my father, especially my father, whom you would never think would love that cat so much. When my mother brought Shadow to the vet, we were surprised to find she had a chip in her ear registered to someone on our block. As per protocol, animal control was sent out to investigate. The woman told animal control that she didn't want the cat. All she did was run away. Shadow's real name was Holly, but she was still Shadow to me.

Shadow became the best friend I ever knew. Not a night went by where she wasn't under my covers sharing the pillow with me, laying stretched out on her back or side as the little spoon. If she wasn't in my bed, she would sit at the door to the bedroom, guarding me or in a chair next to me, always watching. I could do no wrong in that cat's eyes. She was the highlight of my day when I got home from every crappy job I had since. A furry coat to soak up the tears shed during long nights of insomnia and depression. An inspiration for my art and spirituality. My familiar and kindred spirit. If I would talk to her, she would respond with chirps and meows like she knew exactly what I was saying. If someone else was in the room giving her attention and I walked in, she would perk up and run toward me like they never existed. Shadow was the second cat that chose me. I have never chosen a cat from a shelter or adoption / rescue facility. This is how I acquired both my childhood furry friend and Shadow.

It all began when I noticed Shadow's fur was sticky and stiff, like she had been sitting in honey. Just the end of her tail at first. She always had this silly habit of sitting in her food tray, so I cleaned it and her and thought nothing of it until the drooling started.

Shadow had always been a drooler, but not to this extent. Drool bubbles would pop from her left lip. One night, when I came home from work before I started my leave to focus on my Etsy shop, I was horrified to find her sitting on the couch with a bloody chin. Now, there wasn't a large amount of blood, but this alarmed me significantly. It was time to see a vet, like, yesterday. Thankfully, my shop sales had been great and I didn't have to fret over the bill- I was ready to pay whatever it was to make her feel better.

The vet confirmed what I knew deep down and didn't want to acknowledge because the thought was just too painful. Cancer. No chance of survival even if I wanted to go through the hell of treatment, which involved removal of the tongue and jaw. I brought Shadow home and cried, hoping for the best -that the antibiotic would work. The vet said she had been wrong before, it could just be an abscess and it would heal. Shadow was still doing cat things. Shadow was still my best friend, she still loved me, she was still trying to cuddle me at night and surrounding me with the reminder of death in the odor of her breath.

Yesterday, I brought Shadow in to be put to sleep. The decision was made when I looked up from making a rune set and saw puddles of blood on the floor, a stream of it from her face as she was sitting in the window sill. I have never felt so heartbroken. Not even at a family member's funeral. I asked to bring her home, burying her under the tree where I buried my last cat and childhood familiar, Elmo. When I saw the standard biohazard bag peeking up through the dirt, I knew that was where she belonged. With her sister. Yesterday, my heart was buried with that cat. Eleven years was not long enough but each one filled with so much love and happiness. I stood with her until the end. The only peace I feel is that I know that she is no longer hurting. I know she knew I loved her.

I miss you Shadow. To those of you who have recently lost your best friend, your familiar or the love of your life, my heart goes out to you. I hope that someone else can read this and share my pain. I understand that there was nothing I could do but love her. Love your pets. Love them as long and as well as you can- nothing is immortal. We accept this when we commit to caring for our (mostly) furry (sometimes scaly or feathery) friends. This doesn't mean that it hurts any less when we lose them.

To my customers, who have been patiently and diligently awaiting orders while Etsy forced hiatus on my shop, preventing sales during this crisis in addition to my sister in law's wedding and me poking my own eye out back and February- you all are really the best turn of luck I've had. You do not know how much I appreciate you allowing me the time to spend these last few precious moments with her. It truly means the world to me and I hope at the end you receive something worth your time and patience. I have not forsaken fulfillment, and orders are still shipping. Unfortunately, I NEED to reopen and accept new orders, as Etsy is demanding payment for $600 worth of shipping labels. My shop is still appearing as in hiatus at the moment, but I ask for all the support my friends, supporters and followers can offer at this time as I essentially will be working for free when I reopen to pay these fees. Great, right?

If you are awaiting refunds, there is literally no money in the account associated with Etsy. However, as the funds become available, I will be processing refunds / cancellations. I'm sorry for the delays, I never thought I would say I found success at the worst possible time. I urge the rest of you- if you have a deadline for your order for the love of goddess TELL ME. I am getting a little frustrated with buyers (who are frustrated with me, understandably, but still, my item descriptions are clear about relaying deadlines) who are upset or complaining about meeting gift deadlines or other deadlines I literally had no idea about. I'm a decent psychic, but not perfect.

~ Samantha

(Owner/Designer/Creator blursedbaubles.etsy.com)