#but so far i dont have enough evidence to confidently say that.

[tink27]

Steddie ficlet (might do a follow up to show Eddie's reaction)

"He likes a boy"

after years of friendship, and being joined at the proverbial hip, Robin liked to think she could read Steve pretty well, however, his love of being just vague enough to confuse her made this difficult.

"who likes a what now?" still trying to get a read on Steve's feelings, but as of right now he just seemed, disconnected. Since showing up unexpectedly at her house, he had maintained that far-away sort of look that showed that even Steve didn't know what he was feeling.

"Eddie... he... we were hanging out and he" finally he fully met Robin's gaze, and the heartbroken edge to his vacant stare became evident "he was implying, heavily, that he likes me"

"... likes likes you?"

Steve's expression briefly switched to mocking disbelief at her childish choice of words, but he didn't have the energy for any kind of clever retort

"Yes Robin! like likes me!" throwing up his hands before allowing them to smack down against their Jeans ("their" because they fit them both and had been making the rotation between both Steve and Robin's wardrobe for months, she wasn't entirely sure who they belonged to to begin with, not that it mattered)

"And you're... upset?" This was baffling because in the months since Eddie returned for the upside-down, the two had never been closer. Far too many shifts consisted of Steve waxing poetic about Eddie while Robin vaguely tried to relate and be supportive. Although why Steve seemed so utterly smitten as he talked about Eddie's hair or musical elitism would never really make sense to Robin. But still, she saw how they were together.

Steve had a bad track record for love, pouring every part of himself into another person in a way that was truly heartbreaking to watch. However, it became significantly less heartbreaking when it was accompanied by Eddie's eyes following Steve around every room, and always looking to him in conversations no matter who was there because it was Steve's opinion and thoughts that mattered to him most. They truly were obsessed with each other, and honestly, Robin had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So Steve's stricken expression made no sense, nor did his frustration that Robin - despite being his platonic soulmate - didn't magically understand the issue he was having.

"I dont know Robs, its just he likes... Steve Harrington" his voice was defeated as he said it, but it still explained nothing

"....you're Steve Harrington" The confusion in her voice was evident "Am I missing something here, this isn't a 'King Steve' thing is it, because Eddie has made it pretty clear that he thought you were a jerk back then"

the noise of frustration from Steve showed she clearly had missed the point and never had she wished so badly to read her best friend's mind as when the tears began to well up in his eyes. She wanted to hug him, but knew from experience that Steve needed to get the thoughts out first.

There was a minute of silence that Robin had to try desperately to not break, every instinct wanting to spit out an awkward and unhelpful comment to lighten the mood, but she knew she just had to wait.

"I'm not..." the words seemed to get lodged in his throat, even those two words came out scratchy and uncomfortable

He squeezed his eyes shut "I'm not a boy"

Steve opened their eyes, with a desperate expression "I'm not a boy"

It was a statement but also a plea. Begging for Robin to know exactly what to say. She didnt.

"you're not a boy." Robin made sure to sound confident, at least she could pretend to know what she was doing. It seemed okay because they gave an awkward nod, head moving slightly too much for it to seem natural

"you're.... a girl?"

the tears seemed to spill the second she said it, and a choked noise lodged itself in their (her?) throat, but after a moment of panicked pause their eyes screwed shut and they nodded but also shrugged. Clearly just as confused by their discomfort as Robin is.

"Okay, thats okay Ste-" shit, stupid "that's okay babe, you're still you, and hey I might be... severely romantically challenged but even I know Eddie is obsessed with you"

there's a brief watery smile before the corners of her lips are pulled down "He likes Steve, he wouldn't like me"

"Horse shit" Robin wasn't as confident as she was trying to sound, but she knew that her best friend was still her best friend and that anyone who didn't adore her was an idiot (as all best friends know)

she moved to sit next to her friend who had ended up on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest, and once again the silence was allowed to stretch out before them, only broken up by heartbroken sniffles and shakey breaths

"so..." Robin wished more than any other moment that she wasn't so awkward "Not Steve?"

"I-" the thought gets broken off " It doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like it's me"

"whats you?" two words encapsulating a question that was near impossible to answer, but it still felt right to ask, to show that Robin wanted to know the answer.

the expression on her face showed that her friend also thought the question unanswerable, and a frustrated shrug fell from her

Robin hated that defeated expression, so she tried "Michelle?"

Clearly, the scrunched-up expression implied it wasn't a fit

"Hannah?" no not that

"Sarah?" seemed less disgusted but still no

"Becky?" okay back to disgust, moving on

"OH! Punch me if this sucks, but... Stevie?" Robin felt the need to justify her choice, showing that she wasn't just trying to make her keep her old name "Like Stevie Nicks! I could see that, dye your hair blonde, get some bangs"

the comment about changing her hair was obviously met with a scowl, but after a soft smile found its way onto her face "Stevie feels better"

Robin had never felt so smart, she was a fucking genius "Stevie is it babe"

Stevie spent moments looking at her, seemingly deep in thought before softly speaking "Thank you Robin"

it seemed too formal for them, to say it so directly with her name like that, but she could tell that Stevie was really grateful so Robin held back the tears (one of them had to be the butch one in this relationship)

"no problem babe" it was spoken just as softly as the thanks, and for now it seemed enough

"Now, tell me what happened with Eddie"

[noellevanious]

started SLARPG. been playing for ~2 hours. my thoughts on it so far:

extremely cute w rly pretty art

all the character designs are adorable and i like the variety of animal people

this is obviously a game thatd have a huge impact on a transfem learning about themselves. as it goes on i can definitely see it hitting me certain ways but for now it hasnt rrally

charming in all the ways youd expect a game about lesbian furries going on adventures would be (upbeat, Fantastical, lovey-dovey)

i like how a lot of melody's dialogue choices revolve around her self-confidence and self worth. feels really genuine. i dont know how much of the choices actually play into the story or if they're just different dialogue, but her girlfriend saying "you're really impressive!" and her dialogue options being "yeah, i think i did good!" or "honestly, i think i couldve done better..." is Real as shit

the monster designs are fun. Again, very goofy fantastical mother-esque, but theyre unique enough that i think theyre fun.

It sure is a turn-based RPG that was inspired by Mother gameplay wise. nothing rly jumping out at me yet except for at the start where you choose whether Melodys magic was based on nature, her love, or her confidence. Star power gimmick idea is neat at least (if simple - just another 'MP' stat so far)

Writing is also bleh. Claire is really cute and i like her outfit but the dialogue between her and the other party members has been Okay at best, cliche in bad ways at worst

same with some of the characters/personalities. Obviously its an rpg so i cant say too much with certainty, i've only just started the story, but for now it definitely feels like the character writing is not a strong suit

It has a lot of charm, but its issues are very evident and would probably scare a lot of potential fans off (just how much of an RPG-ass game it is namely).

i think the art could definitely make up for it, cause it's really good and charming. i dont wanna disparage it, it's clearly a passion project, and deserves any attention it can get. give it a try but be prepared to play some RPG-ass gameplay

[prod-svt]

obsessed with seventeen hiphop unit's lyrics that is about their growth and putting haters in their place cause they have their steady growth, firm reputation and overwhelming success to back those up. the bravado and seemingly bragging lyrics comes off so confident that the listeners would agree bc again they have evidences to back up their words.

just like that, you’ll always be behind us. it’s not even a royal flush, don’t need to see it, just need to hear it once (ah yeah, scoups)

they don’t even know what they’re saying, all those barking rabid dogs. i hope you’ll be healed with this verse cause I’m the vet (ah yeah, vernon)

stack up the trophy written in my names in the rack. it's all not enough, i'll be a pioneer in a new path right away. (back it up, scoups)

my name on the headline makes me happy, accomplished it every year. sold out and sold out again, gather those sold out tickets and we can build a castle an instant (back it up, scoups)

made this far got nothing to prove just look back at our footprints (back it up, vernon)

here are my results. i'm the type of to show myself through action that words. look at my workin', i will be rich with my music career only (un haeng il chi, wonwoo)

when everyone just start to depart, i already arrived. chasing the back but when they catch sight of it, that's so far (back it up, mingyu)

passion is our main dish, our goals as free dessert (fire, wonwoo)

even if we go back 10 years, i'll rise up to the top again, my way (fire, wonwoo)

unlike me who have high growing potential, you have none / .... / to compare, im heungboo who's feeling the beat while youre beat deaf even if you try to imitate / from what i see in your actions, you don't thrive at all (lotto remix, wonwoo)

when you were carefully hanging out during that time / i go to the club you went later as a guest, rap and earn money even (lotto remix, mingyu)

im about to do something that nobody has ever done (lotto remix, mingyu)

all you do is eat my leftovers (lotto remix, scoups)

the idiots talk shit on the reviews saying i won't make it but who's the top of hot rookies that people around you picked? yeah it's me (lotto remix, scoups)

"whatever i say becomes reality" such sayings become one of my popular quotes in the far future (un haeng il chi, mingyu)

30 to 100, 100 to 300, 800 then 3000, 7000 and 13000 is near / the stars the scintillating in front of me now but this isnt enough, more (un haeng il chi, mingyu)

been touring domes now havent you heard now stadium tours now. (fire, vernon)

brag binjibteoli* trophy in your hand to your mom / at least bet your pinky, if you have no profit then risk your life (un haeng il chi, scoups)

do you think im crazy? everything i earned in 3 years fill up my fingers. do you think stealing my direction will make me absurd? without making it intense, you're already scared, don't know, nod (loser!) (un haeng il chi, scoups)

the gaze of people looking down at me. when i'm about to get lazy i think of those memories when i almost lower my head. now, im so high. we're no longer at eye-level. all of you who forced our head down when we were younger, bow down! (sukyo, wonwoo)

i look down to all of you, all of you go down. look at me, i'm sold out. i dont hang out with you, it's the truth. i'd rather invest that time. invest that money you earned to me. earn some extra cash for security (sukyo, mingyu)

our manager's phone goes ring ring, it's another invitation call. you guys ghosted us three years ago. you didnt know, you never expected us to get this big (sukyo, scoups)

this is the difference between those who know me and those who don't. all these punks ive never heard of or met always draw up an image of me in their heads to their own liking. why do you turn the spilled rumors and truth into your own useless news for attention (what's the problem, mingyu)

thanks to the envy and jealousy, i feel like i've become the best. i made a comeback during the war and i've become the punk everyone needs to be cautious of (MMO madness maxed out, scoups)

underline my name and memorize it like it had become a reality (MMO Madness maxed out, scoups)

you compare me (to others) while avoiding and running away from me. even if you lose your mind as the number of white flags increases. maintain this feeling (MMO madness maxed out, scoups)

until i am satisfied, everyone is my fuckin' target, surrender everything you have (MMO, scoups)

take the words you have spit out back home, i wont stop you, do whatever you want to do. the talks eventually reach my ears but you can't say it to my face (MMO, mingyu)

we fearlessly enter and whenever we step foot, we make it ours (MMO, vernon)

if you can't handle it, go on and run away. as long as we're holding out here, we're going to take it all. so don't fight (MMO, vernon)

binjibteoli : having comeback when there is no really popular artists to confront, thus avoiding competition and easily winning music awards // MMO lyrics translation

[idolshineitai]

harrow, for the ask game :)

hi hi sniffles i appreciate tgis so much !! headcanon asks !

realistic: uhhhhhh i dont know if this counts <33 but theres So Much evidence tgat i feel confident in saying that harrow is literally the autism/schizophrenia overlap/venn diagram. shes got both

while it may not be realistic it is hilarious: i like giving harrow my exact height (4'7). she is itty bitty teeny tiny

heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends: struggling to draw the line btwn hc & analysis here. im just gonna throw out a few !

reverend parents abused harrow in multiple ways. john and ianthe too. unknowingly or not they all worsen her psychosis

harrow wants to die for love just as much as she wants to live for it (her original plan during the cyth fight, her lobotomy, "let me live long enough to die at your feet", "and you walked to your death like a lover"). vice versa for gideon, too.

fixated on death itself & uses her lyctorhood to push herself as close as she can get — maybe even in a desperate attempt to sense the forgotten thing she Knows is missing. not with the intent to die — cost too much for it — just allowing things to get far away and fuzzy with the barest hint of arms around her again. kind of like how she pushes the bones in her hands nearly to the point of breaking just because she Can . like her parents taught her.

unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own: fashionable harrow. (stone) femme harrow. i am Sorry. verymuch a personal thing and she is 1000% more androgynous/genderless than anything . but femme doesnt necessarily equal Femininity in the traditional sense !! femmes can be all of that as well!!

GOD the way she centers and values this one (1) butch. her shitty lil dramatics. How she takes forever to get ready for the fifth's party while gideon gets ready in 15. same thing in the ball au where she worries over her image. when she dresses cool i do believe its on accident but she DOES dress cool and she DOES care abt that kind of thing, to an extent :] modern aus included !!

DETOURING TO GRAB QUESTIONING FEMMES BY THE SHOULDERS SO LOVINGLY You can do whatever you want forever you are no less femme for having a fucky gender!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it's a role and a dynamic and a community and you get to make it your own !!!!!!!! MWAH

bonus unrealistic hcs: gideon somehow prevented harrow from dying when her parents did. maybe even stopped her herself. And in their own horrible way theyve been looking out for each other even back on the ninth when it comes to garbage mental health.

[itgirl-111]

DANGEROUSLY HOT 💋:

(these affirmations aka some facts;) are a bit exaggerated and you can still use this no matter if you're single, or in relationship depending on your intentions)

All eyes on me , i am the center of the ring just like a circus

I am literally the hottest, most perfect, most beautiful, dangerously seductive, attractive, the most charming, dazzling, ethereal and scrumptiously hottest person to ever exist. My beauty and hotness is literally ground shattering. Whenever i walk into any room all eyes turn on me! Everything from my confidence and aura is seductive, attractive and jaw-dropping. People gasp air when they see me. I am incredibly magnetic, desirable, unforgettable, unattainable, irresistible and irreplaceable. Every encounter I get love, respect and admiration. People don't know perfection till they see me. One second is all it takes for me to become someone's obsession. I am treated like a princess/prince but worshipped like a goddess/god. I don't need people, they need me the most. I literally embody first love and sensuality. Its a obvious evident fact that i am the hottest person in the room, my beauty is beyond comprehension, beyond what words could ever describe. My presence makes them feel like they're on cloud nine, I am like a drug nobody can resist. They miss me when i am not around, constantly begging for attention. They can't formulate their words while speaking to me, how can they? When i am literally this breathtaking!

Love me? Get in the line...

Its tiring how i recieve love confessions 24/7. Everywhere I go people ask for my socials, my number! I walk in the room and all eyes turned to me, jaws dropped to the floor and constant whispering about how they'd die for me (not literally - ). But seriously tho, I can never not recieve compliments! They feel a constant urge to compliment me , spoil me , pay for my food and drinks. They know i am so incredibly far out of their league yet I literally get asked out uncountable amount of times. I am literally everyone's type, The prize, The trophy, The award , the irresistible drug they can't get enough of. Its cute to see how People literally get so flustered , struggling, trying to formulate their words while talking to me, pretending they dont get butterflies just because i am too hot to handle.

Confidence is my middle name...

I never need validation from others because i am confident in my own skin and myself as a whole. I know my worth and exactly what i deserve and do not settle for less. I have high standards and i never lower them for anyone or anything. I always get exactly what i want. I am never afraid to ask for what i want boldly and recieve it. I am free, i am unapologetically myself eliminating the need to fit in or conform to norms. I am loved for that! I know my boundaries and I can say No whenever I want to without feeling guilty because I put myself first. Putting myself first is a form of self care. I am never afraid to speak my emotions, thoughts and feelings. I have excellent communication skills and my vibes are immaculate. <3

[heliads]

can i request with one with the twins (i dont mind which one) where the other twin dares them to go out with reader, but the twin actually falls in love with her, but the reader finds out

angst with a happy ending <3

(thank you)<33

ok first of all this trope <33 also this was such a fun fic to write

masterlist

This might be the easiest ten galleons Fred Weasley has ever won in his life. The job is so easy, in fact, that it’s got him suspicious. The whole situation is no less suspicious due to the fact that it’s being set up by his twin brother, and if there was ever anyone more inclined to trick someone than Fred, it’ll be George. That’s the way it always has been.

So, it should come as no surprise that Fred is a little hesitant about the whole thing. Just to clarify, he runs the plan by his brother one last time.

“Let me get this straight. You’re willing to give me ten whole galleons if I go out with a girl? Why would that ever be a problem?”

George chuckles. “It’s not just any girl, Freddie. We’re talking about Y/N L/N.”

This does, admittedly, make the whole thing a little more difficult. Y/N is notorious for basically being a Gryffindor in name only. Whereas the rest of the house has an affinity for sticking together, Y/N is the boldest and most brash of them all. She walks with who she pleases, she does what she wishes and makes everyone wonder why the hell she isn’t a Slytherin for all her confidence and ambition.

She’s also one of the prettiest girls in Gryffindor, which makes her standoffishness even worse. Many boys have tried and failed before Fred to win her affections, but few have been able to even talk with her long enough to pose the question of a date, and fewer still have walked away with enough pride to be able to tell their friends about it. 

Basically, this task is herculean, although Fred still isn’t sure why George cares enough to place such a bet on it.

“And why, again, is this something you’re interested in? Any chump can ask Y/N for a date, that’s not worth the galleons.” He says.

George leans forward, evidently enjoying Fred’s bewilderment. “Precisely. That’s why you have to go on three dates. One to prove that you can actually manage it, two to make sure the first one wasn’t a fluke, and a third to confirm that you’ve actually broken through to her. Three. No more, no less.”

Fred frowns. “What’s the point of all this, then? Sure, it would be fun to break L/N’s streak of ignoring the rest of us, but I don’t get why you want me to do it.”

George’s face sours. “She hasn’t been pleasant to me recently. I overheard her talking to one of her friends about how our latest prank was so foolish a first year could have seen through it. I want to prove that she’s not as omniscient as she thinks.”

Fred blinks in surprise. He doesn’t usually hear his brother so vengeful, but then again, they take their pranks far more seriously than anyone expects. It’s their one claim to fame, their one way to get ahead of the rumors about their family’s financial status, the one thing that separates them from the redheaded masses of their other siblings. Without the pranks, they’d be nothing. No wonder George is still bitter.

Still, ten galleons is ten galleons, and Fred isn’t about to turn that down. He sticks out his hand before he can second guess himself, and George shakes it just as fast.

“Here we go,” Fred says, trying to convince himself that this is a good idea, “Three dates. Wish me luck.”

As it turns out, Fred is going to need a lot of luck. He wasn’t kidding when he said that Y/N is cold to anyone who isn’t her friend. He’s scarcely talked to her twice during their entire time at Hogwarts, so it’s not like he’s starting out from a great point. Well, at least he isn’t her enemy. That’s all he’s got at the moment.

Thus, Fred launches his first effort in what will be known as the greatest struggle of all time, at least to George and himself. Fred takes a day or so to map out his approach, and from there, it’s all about timing. The first encounter comes on a dreary morning, with one of the classes Fred shares with Y/N.

Y/N certainly does look surprised when Fred slides her a mug of something across the table in their dimly lit Divination table, but he supposes that’s to be expected.

She peers in at the darkly caffeinated contents. “Is this–”

Fred cuts her off cheerfully. “Coffee? Yes, it is. I know it wasn’t on the tables for breakfast this morning, and if we’re going to fake our way through this morning’s predictions, I figure we’d best be running at our fullest potential.”

Y/N arches a brow. “Why would you bring me coffee?”

He has technically just explained himself, but Fred knows what she’s getting at. If it weren’t for their random partner assignment this morning (which, as it turns out, was not random at all, Trelawney just leaves her notes in conveniently accessible places), they would never talk at all, much less bring each other drinks.

Still, it’s nice, and being nice is one of the first steps towards getting someone to like you. He grins again, and feels faintly relieved when one of the corners of Y/N’s mouth twitches up in response.

“Although I know for a fact that we’re all just in this class because it requires the least brainpower in the mornings,” Fred offers, “failing Divination would actually be humiliating. I haven’t got any imagination, so I’m going to need you to bring everything you’ve got for today’s graded prophecy.”

Y/N looks suspicious, although he notices that she takes a sip of the proffered coffee first. “I’m sure you’ve got imagination in spades, what with all those pranks.”

He’s not sure if her tone is judgmental or not, but Fred has to work with what he’d got. “Oh, you’d be surprised. We’ve run through almost all of our ideas and we’re desperate for new content.”

Y/N laughs incredulously, which causes a few students at neighbouring tables to look over at them in surprise. Clearly, Fred’s already doing a killer job at winning her over. “You guys can’t seriously be running out of ideas. I don’t believe that.”

Fred widens his eyes in mock horror. “Believe it indeed. I’m actually starting to panic over the whole thing. Say, maybe you could help me out on that front.”

Y/N scoffs. “You can’t actually think that I would know a thing about pranks.”

Fred shrugs as casually as he can. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ve never given it a chance.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, although Fred swears she’s hiding a smile. “Wonder why that would be.”

When the end of the class rolls around, though, they’re doing better. They’ve been talking almost the entire time, to the point where Fred is willing to hurry up the timeline and bring up his offer to talk through prank ideas once again, say, later at the library. He’s stunned when Y/N says yes, although no more so than George.

George, who all but falls over in shock when Fred triumphantly sweeps into the boys’ dorm room and announces that he’s already gotten Y/N to agree to their first date. George tries to argue out of it, saying that it’s just at the library and therefore not a date at all, but it’s not like Hogwarts students have anywhere else to go except the grounds, so eventually he’s forced to accept the truth that Fred is doing far better than either of them expected. 

Fred leaves for the library later that day, but only after telling George that he’d better start coming up with those galleons, because the chances that he’s winning this dare have suddenly started skyrocketing.

He’s half afraid that Y/N will come to her senses and not show up to the library at all, but he’s scarcely been waiting five minutes at a table in the back when she walks up to him, slinging her bag on the ground next to them as if the whole thing were nothing at all. Fred can feel a thousand eyes burning into his back from all the other occupants of the library, but he’s not about to let their shock ruin this date, because damn it, this is a date and he is winning this whole thing.

“Well?” Y/N asks, and belatedly Fred realizes that he’s been silent a little too long after all of his pleased contemplation. “How exactly does one plan out a prank?”

Grateful for the familiar topic of conversation, Fred settles back into his rhythm. “Well, it’s actually quite easy. All you have to do is figure out what sort of thing you want to do.”

“Really?” Y/N asks, the picture of surprise.

Fred swats her shoulder before he can stop himself, and he doesn’t know who’s more stunned, him, Y/N, or the other students nearby. Luckily, she just grins back at him, and he’s fine again.

“Yeah, really. Let me talk, will you? See, there are a few things you can do. The prank can be temporary, for one thing, like a spell that changes everyone’s hair a certain color for an hour, or it can be longer. Remember that time George and I turned all the stairs in the castle into rope ladders for six months? Man, that was so fun. ‘Course, half the school hated us for it, but it was still fun.”

When he looks up from his spiel, Y/N is smiling again. He’s starting to think that all of those rumors about her being a total ice queen are nothing but lies.

“I remember that thing about the rope ladders, it was great. People were just mad because they couldn’t climb to save their lives.” She says, and Fred feels his spirits rise.

“I know, right? It was fantastic. I didn’t realize you remembered,” he says a little quieter, because in truth he had no idea that she kept track of what pranks they did at all. George had made it seem like Y/N couldn’t care less about what the ineffable Weasley Twins came up with unless she was insulting them, but it doesn’t seem that way in the slightest.

Indeed, Y/N’s face is fond at the memory. “I remember a bunch of your pranks, but that one stood out the most. I didn’t like the hair color one at all, though. You chose a shade of aqua that was terrible for everybody.”

Fred chuckles. “That was the whole point. I thought all of our collective egos needed to be taken down a notch or two, and the prank did the trick.”

“Seems like your ego might still need repressing,” Y/N says, although she’s looking at him through a smile so bright that Fred’s ego doesn’t feel a thing.

Fred comes out of the supposed date feeling really good, actually. He’s trying to compare the Y/N he’s heard about for years with the Y/N he just spent more than two hours with, and they just don’t seem to match up. He enjoyed himself quite a bit, so much so that George comments on his stupid grin the second his twin sees him.

“You do realize that this is just a dare, right?” George says, which shuts down Fred’s mood immediately.

Fred scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Of course I do. Doesn’t mean that I can’t have fun, though. Would you prefer that I muddle through life with a funereal depression just because I have to talk to Y/N?”

George rolls his eyes. “Obviously not, I just guess I’m surprised. This is the girl who insulted us, right? That’s the whole reason we’re doing this.”

Fred nods along, but on the inside he can’t stop seeing Y/N laugh when they were brainstorming all the things they could do to the castle, and for the first time, he wonders if George has the right idea after all.

This conflict doesn’t disappear after the second date, either. Fred doesn’t believe his luck when Y/N agrees to sit with him out in the courtyard to talk again. This feels more like a real date, especially when it starts raining and they have to run back into the protective shade of the castle walls, shrieking from the beat of the water against their skin. Y/N pushes him out into the rain when Fred thinks he’s safe, so he tugs her out after him.

He thinks he’ll remember that moment forever, her howl of outrage after both of them get soaking wet despite their best attempts to avoid such a terrible fate. It’s only fair, he tries to reason with her, you forced me out first. This doesn’t mean that she doesn’t pretend to swear vengeance upon him forever, although she can scarcely get the words out between both of their bouts of laughter. Fred feels utterly golden, all up until the point when he tilts his head up and sees a figure with a red and gold scarf staring at them from one of the towers.

By the time Fred is certain of who it is, George has already disappeared back inside, but the damage is done. Fred can’t convince himself to get that playful spirit back, even when the rain picks up again and Y/N loops her arm through his to guide them back under the stone parapets. It’s just a forceful reminder of the one truth Fred has been trying his damndest to avoid: this is date two of three, and then he’s done.

Truth be told, Fred is lying to himself even more than he’s lying to Y/N. If he were actually willing to be honest with himself, he would say that he’s not just doing this for the dare, not anymore. He likes Y/N, he can admit that now, he likes the way she grins at him in this special way, how he’s never seen her smile like that at anyone else. He likes to think that he’s the special one to her, even if this is just an illusion he’ll have to break in a matter of days.

They’ve got their third date coming up, after all, the third and final one. There’s a trip to Hogsmeade coming up in a few days, and Fred swallowed the last of his regrets and asked Y/N out for real, no more hiding around casual conversation. She said yes in a heartbeat, and Fred almost choked on his guilt when it came time to give her the place where they should meet up.

It’s perfect, almost. They walk hand in hand to a coffee shop Fred found the last time he was here. It’s fitting, Y/N says, they started talking because of coffee and now they’re having coffee together at last. Fred laughs and changes the topic before he can start thinking about how much this is going to hurt to break it all off.

For break it off he must, after all, break it off or lose his brother. George all but presented Fred with that very ultimatum the night before the final date. He’ll still give Fred the galleons, but he has to end it now. It’s just a dare, after all, albeit a dare that has wrapped clawed fingers so deeply around Fred’s heart that he doesn’t know how to separate himself from the lies. It’s Y/N or his brother, and Fred has never been raised to choose anything but family, over and over until he ends up alone forever.

He lets himself enjoy today, though, traipsing through the walkways of Hogsmeade after the coffee. Fred doesn’t even need the caffeine to make his heart feel so full it could burst. Every small moment is a majesty that he’ll never get again, and Fred tries to make himself believe that she might not hate him after this ends.

Fred is trying to think about the best way to break the news to her when the first person comes up. Y/N is a few paces away, trying to read a sign on a nearby building when another Gryffindor arrives. Fred vaguely recognizes him as another boy from their year, but he doesn’t like the sight of the boy’s incredulous smirk.

“Is it true, Fred?” The boy asks. “You got Y/N to go out with you?”

Y/N is at the boy’s back, just out of his line of vision, but Fred has the perfect view as she stiffens in surprise. 

He does his best to salvage the situation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The boy laughs, shoving Fred casually across the chest and making him stumble. “Of course you do! Man, that’s something. Who knows that Y/N L/N would have actually tolerated one of us after all. Those galleons were well earned. Wow.”

The boy leaves after a second, still faintly chuckling to himself. Fred is left to stare at Y/N, who has turned around to look directly at him. Her eyes are wide, haunted. She knows.

She asks, though, just to give him the last chance to absolve himself of all of this. “Is it true? What he said?”

Fred tries to think of some way to make this all seem better, but he can’t. There is no way this sounds good. In the end, all he can offer her is the truth.

“Yes,” he says, “it was, in the beginning. But it isn’t now, I swear, I don’t feel that way anymore. I like you, Y/N, I really do, and–”

She cuts him off, shaking her head frantically. “That can’t be true. I trusted you, Fred. Hell, I loved you. I knew not to believe any of you, because there isn’t a single person in this castle who doesn’t hate me for not being as simpering and friendly as you think I should be, but I thought you were different. All this time, you thought I was just worth a handful of galleons.”

Fred reaches out, trying to do anything to make her stay, but she just shoots him one last broken glance and leaves, disappearing out into the swirling snow. Fred doesn’t know that he has ever known a hurt as deep and cruel as this.

A voice from behind makes his blood grow even colder than before. “Don’t take it personally, Fred. She was going to find out eventually.”

Fred turns around slowly to find his twin brother staring back at him. “You did this, didn’t you?” Fred asks, his voice jagged. “You told people because you knew she’d find out from them and not me.”

George lifts a shoulder. “Actually, you did this when you agreed to the dare in the first place. I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to try and back out of telling her. Listen, don’t be mad, Freddie. I knew you were going to get too deep into this, but it’s over now. You never cared about her beforehand, anyway.”

George steps forward, dumping a stack of something into Fred’s hand. He only knows it to be the galleons by the clink of it against his gloved palm. Staring at the gold, though, all Fred can think is that it’s not enough, not nearly enough to have ruined all of this.

“I need you to know something, George,” Fred says roughly, “I don’t care how mad she made you when she talked about our pranks, but I will never forgive you for this. Yes, I agreed to the prank, but you took it too far by suggesting it in the first place and forcing her to find out like that. You’re my brother, and that means I’m supposed to be able to count on you when I can count on no one else. That wasn’t true today.”

George looks stunned, but Fred is already walking away, fighting or perhaps even welcoming the punishing bite of the wind. He doesn’t know how he could possibly find Y/N in all this mess, but perhaps the universe takes pity on him, because he stumbles upon her soon enough. She’s walking as fast as she can towards a quieter part of the town so she can be alone, but Fred’s long legs allow him to catch up quickly.

“Y/N, wait.” He calls out, but Y/N keeps going, the hunch of her shoulders the only sign that she might have heard him.

Fred jogs in front of her, forcing her to stop. “Listen to me, please? I know you don’t owe me anything, but please. This whole thing started awfully, and I have been terrible to break your trust like this. I’m sorry, and I always will be. I regret that I ruined my chance with you. You don’t deserve this. You could hate me forever, and that would be fair, but I would never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to make this better.”

Y/N looks fiercely up at him, and Fred is startled by the sight of tears she’s unable to hold back. “And what, I’m supposed to believe that? How do I know that this isn’t just another dare? Break her heart, and you get even more money if you manage to delude her enough to come back?”

Fred shakes his head. “No, I wouldn’t do that. No more dares, Y/N, I swear. You don’t have to forgive me now, but I won’t stop trying to make up for this, however long it takes.”

Y/N lets out a shuddery sort of sigh. “And what about your brother? You can’t hate him, either.”

“I don’t like having to choose between you,” Fred says firmly, “but I’m choosing you. I can fix things with him later, but I need you most.”

She looks surprised by that, perhaps because the Weasley Twins have always been one nameless, inseparable entity and the thought that one of them might leave the other is enough to shake her out of her sadness.

“Really?” She asks, somewhat tentative.

“Really,” Fred answers, “if that’s what it takes. I do love you, Y/N. I need you to know that. It may not have started out that way, but it was real to me, too.”

She laughs at last, quiet and so unlike her usually cheerful laugh, but it’s a start. That’s all he needs, Fred realizes, a start. “Alright, then. I suppose it wouldn’t make much sense for you to come charging out here if you didn’t mean what you said.”

“I do,” Fred confirms, “I really do. You know that, don’t you?”

Y/N tilts her head back, considering this, considering him. “Yes,” she says at last, “I think I do.”

Fred has no idea how long it will take for her to fully forgive him, or even for him to fully forgive himself, for that matter. All he knows is that at least he’s been given a chance. He would do anything for that chance. It’s worth it to be able to keep loving her. George will forgive him eventually, they’ve been in tougher scrapes than this before, and then it will be all good. Fred will have his girl, and all will be well. 

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie

[paintingformike]

yeah...thinking again about how we really dont see a single time mike actually opening up to el about his insecurities, or even el opening up to mike about her inner turmoils (atleast not onscreen or one that didnt turn into a massive fight). we dont see a single serious and consistent heart-to-heart conversation between them that couldve actually solved their issues faster. whether m*levens want to admit it or not, it’s evident in the show that mike hasn’t been feeling comfortable enough to be vulnerable with his feelings around his own girlfriend and he always stumbles around his words and struggles to express himself to her, which is odd if we’re supposed to believe they truly understand and connect with each other. i can’t imagine being that bad at communicating with my significant other who i’m supposed to be close with and feel like i can confide in the most.

but you know who mike does feel the most comfortable with when it comes to expressing himself and being openly vulnerable with? will. all will has to do is to sit beside him reassuringly, and mike has no problem baring his heart and soul to him. it was will who knew the exact words to say to ease his feelings of guilt and worry. it was will who actively reassured him about his insecurities and made him feel loved with his words and with a painting crafted with care and affection, something that had mike catching his breath, smiling widely and looking the happiest he’s ever been all season. never once do we see mike being reassured like this directly by his actual girlfriend. it was will. all will. quite literally the only person who he’s able to be this authentic with too, since he’s 10x more repressive around everyone else.

and people can argue that yeah, mike and el never had the opportunity to sit down and have a serious conversation with each other since they were separated all season and el was off on her own self discovery arc, but that should make you wonder, why did the writers never LET them? they made the active decision of purposefully making mike spend the entire season glued next to will and el far away from him. remember, these are fictional characters, not real people, so you can’t just reason out that “oh el would’ve definitely been the one to reassure mike about his insecurities even without will in the picture she was just preoccupied with the nina project blah blah” because they were purposefully WRITTEN in a way that this never happened, not once. they couldn’t even insert a short conversation between them after el lost against vecna? after mike finally said ily to her, the one thing she has been pleading to hear from him for so long after he denied her a single utterance of the L word? they have one conversation that happens off screen and its not even about their actual relationship, just with the whole deal about brenner and el’s powers (we did get another heart to heart with mike and will though...wonder why 🤨).

at the very least m*levens have to acknowledge the fact that the second love interest had to get involved just to keep their failing relationship from falling apart, and that everytime they have relationship problems that need to be resolved, they’ve never been able to do it by themselves alone, there’s always somebody else in the background prompting one person in the relationship (mostly mike) to talk or make a move. they’re quite literally the only couple written this way too, other couples in the show (but specifically s4 lumax) have had conflicts with each other but they’re able to do it by themselves with proper communication and actually opening up to each other in a serious heart-to-heart conversation. imagine if mike just continued wallowing in his insecurities and never talked to will about his fear of being unneeded by el? imagine if will wasn’t there for him to open up to and nobody was there to convince him that el “still needed him”, since he was already about to resign himself to the fact that actually, el didn’t need him anymore? then nothing would’ve happened. no ily monologue, no nothing.

when a character is strategically separated from his significant other, who he keeps showing a fake side of himself to (“i need to be more normal i cant be my real nerd loser self around her!”) and who he’s been having a major conflict with, and then spends the entire season pouring his heart and soul out to the second love interest, actively seeking comfort and confiding in him the most, and the second love interest simultaneously being able to offer him the exact words of comfort that he wants and needs, they’re building something up between them and trying to show you how compatible and good they are for each other. the sooner people (m*levens) are able to understand this glaringly obvious love triangle pattern, the sooner they’ll be able to accept that maybe mike and will were always meant to end up together 🤷‍♀️

[jungwonenthusiast]

hi ! enhypen smut prompt request ! can i have the reader whos a female say #4 with jake or sunghoon whos a hard dom ?? if u can , can u add how the reader and the partner are enemies who got lots of sexual tension so they kinda trease e/o a lot with words and actions ? u dont have to use that plot but thank u♡

A/N: This is one of my favorite works now lol i hope u like it :) <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, rly brief oral (f recieving), degredation

Word Count: 2.9 k

“But it’s a Tuesday,” you tell Jay while zipping up your backpack.

“So?” he says. “Don’t be lame.”

“I’m not lame, just responsible.” you sing your bag over your shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s lame.” he walks with you to the lunch tables. Jungwon and Heeseung are already there chatting it up.

“You guys are coming right?” Jay asks them and they nod. “See? You gotta come.”

“It’ll be fun noona,” Jungwon says. “And you have to come because Heeseung hyung and Jay hyung are probably gonna leave me for girls.” he rests his head on your shoulder for a moment.

“Why don’t you get yourself some girls too.” you suggest and he shakes his head.

“I’m too shy.” he says quietly and you giggle.

“Alright fine, I’ll go.” you finally say and they all celebrate. “Jake’s not gonna be there right?”

“Uhm,” Heeseung looks over to Jake’s lunch table nervously. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” you cock an eyebrow.

“He won’t be there,” Jay says. “It’ll be fine.”

You feel someone bump into your shoulder as you walk to history.

“What the hell?” you say and turn around to see who the culprit is. Of course it’s Jake. He shrugs with a half smile. That fucking ass.

After a few more classes you head home and start preparing for the bonfire party. It’s at a beach so you decide to wear your favorite bikini under your shirt and shorts. Your phone begins to buzz and it's a facetime call from Jungwon.

“Hola~” you greet him.

“Hi~” he says. “Can you take me there? My parents are at work.”

“Sure.” you say while putting all of your essentials into a purse.

“Also,” he hesitates. “I think Jake hyung is gonna be there.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I heard him talking about it during p.e.” he says quietly and you groan.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go anymore.” you say.

“No you have to go, I will die without you.” Jungwon pleads. “It’ll be fun, we'll just stay away from him.”

“It’s gonna be hard to stay away from that giant ego taking up the whole place.” you roll your eyes.

“He’s not that bad noona, he’s actually pretty nice.” Jungwon shrugs.

“Don’t betray me like that,” you scold him. “You’re on my team alright?”

“Okay okay.” he surrenders, giggling.

You pick Jungwon up and give him the aux for the 30 minute drive to the beach.

You guys groove to SZA together.

Jungwon rolls down the window while you're on the highway and sticks his head out like a dog. He kind of is like a dog (in a good way). He’d be a shiba inu.

“Whoooo!!” he screams as the wind whips through his hair, you smile.

When you get there you park your car and get the beach towels from the backseat.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” you as Jungwon and he shakes his head. “Why do you never listen to me?”

You get a bottle of sunscreen out of your purse and rub a dollop on his face. He scrunches his nose.

“It feels like you're rubbing cake batter on me.” he complains.

“You’ll thank me when you’re fifty and you aren’t a wrinkly wreck.” you tell him while spreading it over his cheeks.

“Can we be done now?” he whines and you sigh.

“Fine.”

You two approach the crowd of people suntanning, drinking, playing volleyball, and playing in the ocean.

You drop your stuff next to Heeseung’s and Jay’s before looking around for them. They’re playing volleyball with who on the opposing team? Jake Sim.

Jungwon must’ve noticed you shooting lasers through your eyes because he grabs your arm. “Come on, let’s go swim.” he tugs his t-shirt over his head and jogs over to the water.

You follow suit, only feeling a little self conscious about stripping with Jake Sim only so far away. But it’s only because you don’t want to be vulnerable in front of your worst enemy, right?

Jungwon’s already relaxing among the waves when you get to the shore. “Why’d you go so deep?” you call out to him.

“It’s not that deep,” he says back.

You swim around with him for a bit before forcing him to look for pretty shells with you.

He gasps. “Baby crab!” he rushes to pick it up. “Look.” he holds it up to you.

You try to pet it without freaking it out. “What if it bites you?”

“It won’t, we’re friends.”

The sun is nearly gone by the time you’re done shell searching and swimming so you head over to the bonfire. You wrap a towel around yourself and snuggle up to Jay. He scrunches his nose.

“It’s cold,” you defend yourself.

Heeseung hands you a white claw and you crack it open.

“What are we doing now?” you ask but you can’t hear Heeseung’s answer over the sight of Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki sitting right across from you. You notice how the bonfire highlights the muscles in Jake’s chest and arms. The warm orange light washing over him makes it look like he’s glowing. Is this what Apollo would’ve looked like? “Huh?” you ask Hee.

“We’re probably just gonna play dumb highschool games.” he says.

You inhale and take a big swig of your seltzer.

“Truth or dare time~” Bree sing songs. “Sunoo truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Sunoo answers.

“Do you have a crush on anyone and if so, who?” she asks and he rolls his eyes.

“I have a crush on myself.” he says confidently.

“Fair enough, you go now.” she says to him.

“Heeseung hyung, truth or dare?” Sunoo asks.

“Dare,” he replies and Sunoo giggles.

“Give your phone to Jay and let him text anyone anything he wants.”

Heeseung groans and throws his head back. “Oh God.”

Jay cackles an evil laugh. “Gimme.”

Heeseung reluctantly hands Jay his phone. “You’re gonna text Sophie aren’t you.”

Sophie Morales, Heeseung ex. They broke up only a month ago after half a year of dating. This was about to be brutal.

“You know me so well.” Jay smiles.

“Please don’t say anything too horrible.” Heeseung pleads.

“Sophie,” Jay narrates his text message. “I miss you and your huge tits. Also I’m sorry for not telling you while we were dating but your feet are really fucking ugly.”

Heeseung buries his head into his hands, laughing. “Fucking Christ.”

“And your breath stinks,” Jay continues. “At least your boobs are nice.”

This is what I get for befriending males. You think to yourself.

“Alright that’s enough.” Heeseung snatches his phone away while everyone giggles. “My turn since I was the victim. y/n, truth or dare?” “Truth,”

“What’s your biggest regret?”

“Becoming friends with Jay, because he’s insane.”

Jay guffaws. “I’ve been nothing but good to you.”

You roll your eyes.

The game goes on for a bit until it lands on Jungwon.

“Noona, truth or dare?”

You’d usually go for truth, but you didn’t want people to think you were boring. “Dare.”

“I dare you and Jake hyung to talk to each other in private for at least five minutes.” he says, crossing his arms.

Your eyes widen and you look over at Jake, he looks like he wants to drown himself.

“What? Why?” you ask urgently.

“Because I’m tired of you guys hating each other for no reason. Now go.” Jungwon shoos you away.

“Yeah go talk.” Niki says to Jake.

Both of you don’t budge. Jay tugs at your arm. “Come on, Jake and y/n becoming friends!”

The whole group starts chanting. “JAKE AND Y/N BECOMING FRIENDS!”

You had to admit that their enthusiasm was kind of endearing, so you swallow your pride and walk over to the lifeguard tower. You hear him not far behind you.

You climb up the stairs and let your feet hang over the ledge of the patio.

He sits down next to you.

You let a few moments of silence pass before speaking up. “I don’t want to be here as much as you do, so let’s just wait for the five minutes to pass and then go.”

“Damn,” he says. “Do you really hate me that much?”

You roll your eyes. “What do you think?”

“What did I ever do to you?” he scoffs.

“I don’t need to justify my feelings.” you cross your arms.

“Why are you so dense?” he grumbles.

You whip your body over to him. “I’m the dense one?”

“Yeah,” he says proudly. You want to slap the smug look off of his pretty face. Normal face. Slightly, almost, barely good looking face.

“Such a prick,” you mumble, turning away.

“What’d you call me?” he scrunches his eyebrows.

You look him right in the eyes. You never noticed how dark and piercing they were. “A fucking prick. Cause you are one.”

His black hair is still damp and poking into his eyes. His lips are parted and they look so soft that you almost want to kiss him. But he beats you to it.

I should push him away. Push him away you dumbass. You kept telling yourself but you couldn’t do it. His lips felt too good against yours.

Your arms snake around his waist as he lays you onto your back.

You wish you had a hundred hands so you could touch all of him. Two weren’t enough. He feels like silk and he tastes like red velvet.

He pushes your jaw up so he can get to your neck. You exhale as his tongue dances on your skin. He grinds his hips into yours and you let out a small moan. Why are you letting him affect you like this? Idiot.

“I thought you hated me?” he smirks while kissing your chest.

“I do.” you breathe out.

“You sure?” he asks, his fingers traveling down your stomach and into your bikini bottoms.

“Mhm.” you say.

He kisses your collarbone. “People you hate don’t make you wet like this.”

That just makes you throb even more.

“Fuck off,” you say and he backs up.

“Really?” he says. “Because I will.”

You roll your eyes and pull him in by the back of the neck.

“Touch me,” you say and he happily obliges. You knew were in public but it was dark and honestly, you didn’t care.

“Such a slut,” he says while running a finger up and down your slit. “If you wanted me this badly you should’ve said so sooner.”

“I don’t want you asshole.” you breathe out as he circles your clit.

“You just asked me to touch you princess,” he kisses your neck. “I think that’s good evidence.”

You rub your fingers through the back of his hair and tug it back, exposing his neck. He lets out a small moan. You kiss his neck, sucking and nibbling every now and then. When you pull away there’s at least three red blotches that go from his throat to his chest.

“People are gonna see those you know?” he says.

“Whatever.” you roll your eyes.

“Are you marking me or something? Telling everyone that I’m yours?” he boasts.

It’s confusing how your anger is feeding into your lust for him.

“Shut up and fuck me.” you say and he cocks a brow.

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” he kisses your cheek sweetly. You want to wipe it off and slap him in the face.

“Who do you think you are?” you scoff at him.

“Come on dont play with me,” he pushes one finger into you and you moan. “I can tell that you want it.”

It was true. You were practically gushing.

“More,” you say, wanting another finger.

“Where are your manners?” he smirks.

You swallow your pride. “Please?”

“Good girl,” he says and it sends tingles down your spine.

He pulls your bikini bottoms to the side and rubs his thumb up your slit. “Such a pretty cunt.”

Your thighs are already trembling.

“I really thought you’d still be hating me right now.” he says lowly. “Do I make you that weak?”

You snap to your senses for a moment. “Fuck you.”

“I am.” he snickers and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t give me attitude princess.” he warns you with a dangerous smile.

“Or what?” you test him.

“Do you really wanna find out?”

“What do you think you’re intimidating or something?” you ask and he scoffs.

He sits up and grabs your arm. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up.” he says sternly and you do.

He grabs your hand, leading you somewhere.

“Where are we going?” you ask, agitated. If you really didn’t want to go you wouldn’t, but you secretly wanted to continue what was going on.

“My car.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll see.”

“Hey! Where are you going?” Jungwon calls out. “Don’t leave me!” “I’ll be just a second!” you reply with an unsure smile.

“Backseat.” Jake says as you approach his Mercedes.

So bossy, you think.

You sit in the back seat and before you know it he’s pulling you into his lap.

“Let’s continue shall we?” he says and you don’t waste any time getting your lips on his.

He pushes your hips down onto his and you whimper. You were already so wet and this was just making it worse.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer.” you say, not being able to hold it in.

“For what?” he nips at your neck.

“I need to feel you inside of me.” you plead. 

“That’s better.” he tugs his shorts down and pulls your swimsuit to the side.

You grab the base of him before slowly sinking down. “Fuck yes.” you moan in relief.

He fills you up perfectly and his tip brushes your g-spot every time you bounce.

“So fucking tight.” he growls, holding onto your hips tight.

Your legs begin to tremble from the pleasure so he grabs you by the waist and lays you on your back.

He snaps his hips into yours and you whine.

He smirks. “Look at you all spread out for me,” he kisses your neck. “Taking this cock deep inside you.”

Your fingers trail down to rub at your clit. “Please don’t stop.”

He flips you over into doggy and tugs your hair, bringing your ear up to his mouth.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Really bad,” you whimper.

He smacks your ass and you let out a small squeal.

“Touch with yourself while I fuck you.” he lets you go and you rest on the door. Your fingers move to play with your pussy.

His hands are tight on your waist as he pounds into you.

You feel your knees start to give out and your cunt start to pulse around him.

He chuckles. “Are you close sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Please make me cum, please I need it so bad.”

“Why should I think you deserve it?”

“Please, I can’t hold it any longer.” you say and he stops his movements completely.

He gets close to your ear. “You get to cum when I say so okay?”

You accept defeat. “Okay.”

You start to get more and more flustered as he continues to fuck you just right.

“Fuck Jake I can’t,” you whimper and hold onto the car door for dear life.

He pulls out suddenly and you complain before feeling his tongue on you. Your body tenses up from the pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good,” he says and you arch your back, pushing your pussy into his mouth. He moans against you.

After only a couple circles on your clit with his tongue, you’re ready to come undone. You grab onto his hand.

“Wait wait I’m close,”

And before you can utter another word he slams his cock into you and brings his hand around you to rub your clit.

“Cum on this cock sweetheart, I know you can do it.” he encourages you.

He smiles as your moans get louder and more high pitched.

Your legs start to shake and he grabs you tight. He comes up to your ear. “Be a good girl for me won’t you.”

Your eyes roll back as bliss runs through your entire body. He was probably the best lay you’ve ever had.

Your body goes slack as he cums inside of you.

“Fuck,” he growls and slowly pulls out. He picks you up and holds you in his arms as you try to ride out the trembling.

“How am I supposed to clean up?” you ask.

“Maybe you can swim again?” he jokes and you punch him in the arm. “Do you still hate me?”

“One hundred percent.” you say confidently.

“Are you kidding?” he scoffs. “My kids are in you right now.”

You fake gag and he laughs.

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf���i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

[probably-haven]

I’ve been thinking about Childe a lot recently- because my friends slander him relentlessly and other than one person who kinda semi-likes him I’m the only one who actually likes his character.... and I know I’ve slandered him a fair amount myself but just- 

-

He was a child. 

A child - No ‘e’. No puns. No jokes. Not this time. 

He was only fourteen. 

-

His story described him as “frightened and hesitant” prior to his time in the abyss. All he wanted was an adventure of his own. To make an adventurer of himself, the likes of which he had heard so many times in the stories of his father. To be like him. He didn’t even go seeking the abyss or any kind of grave danger or incredible power, he was just a naïve little boy, running away from home with almost nothing in chase of a story of his own. 

And yet he was fated to fail, and everything went south almost immediately. Lost in the freezing cold forest environments of Snezhnaya, he was completely alone save for the wild animals on his trail. And by an unlucky roll of the dice - or perhaps because in that moment, his desire and drive to survive, to live, to get back to his family, was so strong that even the abyss itself took notice - the world he knew was stripped away. 

Scared and vulnerable with only a shortsword for protection, Ajax was torn from what already would have served to be traumatizing enough for the child, and thrust into something immeasurably worse. 

Described as “a bottomless crack in the earth’s surface,” “the endless possibilities of another ancient world,” and “the darkest corners of the universe;” the abyss is not a place that ordinary people are meant to survive.  Now I could go on about what the abyss may be or who the swordswoman might be or what might have happened to him, but the point is: it doesn’t matter what happened, his trauma is trauma nonetheless and its not in his control nor is it his fault how his brain decided to process it. Regardless, I think “endless possibilities” within the “darkest corners of the universe” speaks well enough for the severity.

Even without this however, it is important to note that for three months of what logically would have driven anyone to or past the brink, he had one consistent point of relative safety in the form of the swordswoman, a person who while training him for destruction, was also deliberately manipulating into him “the ability to stir up endless havoc.” 

Placed in an extremely traumatic situation like this and being manipulated by one he would have been forced to see as an anchor of sorts, simultaneously holding him together and molding him into the twisted version of himself that she wanted him to be; Realistically, Childe is more a victim than anything else.

And he returned - still only a fourteen year old child - to his home. 

Now an interesting point: based on the wording of his character story, it seems as though when he came out from the abyss, his new demeanor actually unnervingly reflects his hopes when he ran away, implying that the swordswoman very well could have used his own ambition as a cruel mirror to shape him based off, or used them merely as an additional manipulation tactic. “He acted as if this world revolved around him, and as if battle existed for his sake.” Almost as though he were truly the protagonist in an adventure story of his own, just like his father before- or perhaps that’s what he was made to believe. 

Regardless, Childe quickly gained a reputation for havoc, chaos, and violence, as it followed him and he spread it wherever he went, just as he had learnt to do during his time in the abyss, constantly seeking that unpredictability, the thrill of combat. 

And this continued until he went too far, and in response to this, the father that he admired so greatly sent Ajax away into the strict military environment of the Fatui. The idea was that the highly strict environment of training for the literal military, would “hone his son’s temper.” Not dampen, or control, or reduce in any way, but “hone” - to sharpen it, to refine and perfect it. And he watched “fully-armed troops getting the stuffing beaten out of them by a mere child.“

He was only a child. 

Everything he went through in the abyss and all the changes he went through himself, only to be shipped into military by the family who could no longer handle dealing with the effects of what he experienced... 

And he was just a kid. 

-

oh but they honed his temper alright. Not only was he entered in this military training like his father had planned originally, but soon after, the young child was selected and placed within the official ranks of the Fatui themselves under the guise of being a punishment.

Told to work his way up the ranks from the bottom, the Fatui “honed” his temper and penchant for combat towards the purpose of serving the Tsaritsa, encouraging these tendencies that would only continue to grow stronger and more apparent with time as a result of their actions, which was exactly their intent. These, psychologically and neurologically, were the key years for his mental development.

And once again the young Ajax found himself the victim of another’s subtle manipulation.  Until he was Ajax no more. 

-

Childe has been under the constant task of further proving himself since enlisting in the Fatui, and once he gained the recognition of the Tsaritsa, the only next possible way of doing that was by comparing his skills to others. And thus far, he has exceed in this time and time again, so with the evidence before him his arrogant confidence in his abilities is by no means unreasonable. Nor is his tendency to express friendship and varied other things through combat, it’s only natural after besting others in battle became his main source of acknowledgement throughout his younger years. 

He’s fiercely loyal as well, to the point where - were his sense of loyalty not so shrouded in his delusion of what loyalty is meant to be - it would likely border on codependency. He also doesn’t seem to have the greatest understanding of social cues, as expected with his combat-oriented upbringing, and tends to have an unnerving aura to a lot of the things he says that he doesn’t seem aware of. 

His loyalty to the Tsaritsa rings true, and seems to be his highest priority above all others, an ideology that, once again has been drilled into him since the age of 14. However, despite this, he is disliked and avoided even by his fellow harbingers, and often kept out of their true plans in a way that clearly shows what low opinions they have of his abilities in certain areas. 

And yet, through it all, he still maintains his own set of values and seeks to make genuine connections which people, which while these efforts may be unsuccessful in most cases, and these values far in between - It still firmly shows the strength of his character which, though in fragments, managed to remain as a part of who he is in spite of his circumstance. 

-

And i get that he’s memeable and slanderable and easy for a lot of people to just hate outright, i really do but sometimes it feels like a lot of people only ever see him at surface value and a lot of people dont even know his story and even fewer still actually consider the implications of that background. He was literally a child soldier - that and even more; “endless possibilities” more.

I have nothing against Childe slander, genuinely - but eventually, when it reaches a certain extent...

It’s not bad, I’m just tired.

[koushou]

Can you please do zhongli/rex lapis x fem shy reader. The fem reader is extremely shy and doesn't have any friends cause of her quiet and timid nature and she lives in liyue with her parents and an only child. She loves to story of rex lapis and the history of liyue and accidentally meet zhongli and sometime later he revealed to be rex lapis to the reader. Also, the fem is a villager of liyue and doesn't have super powers to fight just a weak villager.

fateful meeting

pairing : zhongli x shy f!reader {fluff}

warnings : none

word count : 2.6k

a/n : thank you for this request! I apologize for the wait, I dont think i made the reader as shy as you requested jshdjd sorry, i hope you enjoy !

Even as a child you had been fascinated by the stories of Liyue, or rather, a specific figure in its history. Perhaps, the archons have heard your passionate nature regarding Liyue, for a fateful meeting one day will change your peaceful life forever. 

Life was everything you could’ve ever wished for.

Only the soft, consistent chopping of a knife against a wooden cutting board and an occasional quiet flip of a page in a book could be heard in one of the many homes in Qingce Village. 

Sunlight seeps through the cracks of the window you sat by, casting a bright glow on the words inside the book in your hands, seeming as if the story itself was coming to life.

Well, not that the story wasn’t coming to life, it had already come to life, for you were currently reading about the history of your beloved nation, Liyue.

The book you were so engrossed in was not an unfamiliar story, having already read it a couple times. You would never grow tired of this one.

A smile played on your lips as you approached one of your favorite parts of this specific chapter. 

Softly fiddling with the corner of the thin page, your eyes scanned over the familiar words slowly.

Wielding a spear so sharp no blade could even hope to compete against, he emerges from the shadows, illuminating a golden aura around his built figure. In one swift motion, the polearm-wielding fighter sends a rumble through the ground beneath him, ridding of any enemies around him in a flash. A sigh leaves his lips as he removes his hood, examining his surroundings. A long ponytail of golden-brown hair trails down to his waist, flowing softly in the wind. His eyes the same shade, if anything more golden, slowly fluttering shut, head turning upwards, immersing himself in the soft breeze.

You pause and gaze out the window, sighing at the scene of hundreds of miles of tall mountains spread out all around, all thanks to one person. One archon, to be more specific.

About to flip the page once more to continue, you were interrupted by your mother’s voice calling out from the kitchen. 

“Y/N, dear, could you fetch me some berries down the river if you aren’t busy?”

You tear your eyes away from the book begrudgingly, calling back, “Fine, anything else?”

“Some sweet flowers and fowl would be great, thanks honey!”

You shut the book, placing it down on your table as you stand up to stretch, bones cracking at the movement.

As much as you wanted nothing but to snuggle back into your chair and immerse yourself back into the story, your parents were the most important people in your life, and you knew it was mainly up to you to take care of them.

Being an only child isn’t as lonely as people make it out to be, you get peace and quiet in the home, and you wouldn’t change it for anything else.

Kicking on your shoes you wore when you ventured outside, you picked up the basket that was used to collect food, as well as your hunting bow for the fowl.

You didn’t know how to fight, having spent your whole life secluded in the village, but you had enough hunting experience, at least.

About to head out, your eyes landed on the book now laying on the table and pondered for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it into the basket.

Despite your mother’s scolding about dangers reading outside, you just wanted a change of scenery while you lose yourself in Liyue’s history.

“I’m heading out now, Ma!” You call out as you push open the wooden door to your home, earning a hum from her in response.

The heat in Liyue would be pretty unbearable to outsiders, however having lived in the same village for almost all your life, it wasn’t anything new.

You hummed, greeting your neighbors occasionally with a wave, walking down to your usual place to fetch ingredients.

Finally reaching your destination not too far from the village, you crouch by the river as you picked the sweet flowers and berries your mother had asked for.

“Mmm, what else did she ask for again?” You thought out loud, forgetting the last ingredient, eyes landing on your bow.

“Oh right, fowl!”

You scan your surroundings, looking for any signs of birds, when suddenly you hear a sharp rustle of a bush behind you. 

Not having time to even turn around and investigate, a heavy weight pounced on you from behind, causing you to tumble forward.

You let out a yelp, feeling a pain through your arm that you had landed on, turning around to see the attacker.

Your eyes widened, seeing it had been a hilichurl that was currently standing above you, however, it didn’t feel like a regular hilichurl.

It had black smoke emitting around it, as if some type of curse had been placed on it, enhancing its strength.

The hilichurl spurt out some unintelligible words, before raising its bat and lunging at you once again.

You grab your bow beside you quickly, aiming at its head before completely missing due to your shaking hands.

Cursing under your breath, you pick up a rock and throw it weakly at the creature, causing it to stop only briefly before charging towards you again, seemingly more angered this time. 

This was it, you thought. All the time spent not learning how to fight, this must’ve been your punishment. 

You shield your face with your arms, hoping to at least lessen the impact, before hearing the hilichurl shout followed by a thud behind you. 

Moving your hands away from your head, you turn to see the hilichurl now lying unconscious a few feet away from you.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” 

A deep, masculine voice brings you out of your shock, as you turn slowly to meet your savior, instead met by a hand held out in front of you, offering assistance. 

Your eyes trailed up to the mysterious man’s face, before your breath caught in your throat.

A long ponytail of golden-brown hair trails down to his waist, flowing softly in the wind.

The man looked back at you curiously, hand still reached out toward you.

His eyes the same shade, if anything more golden.

Why were you suddenly reminded of those words in the book?

Your mouth gapes at the sight of the man above you, his presence bringing a strange feeling you didn’t recognize.

Your eyes widened. Could it be..?

“...excuse me? Are you alright?”

His voice brings you out of your daze once again, a worried look cast upon his handsome features. Wait, what?

It was only then did you realize how good looking the man was before you, turning red as you took his hand and stood up, wobbling a tiny bit.

“Thank you for saving me,” you bow slightly, quickly picking up your forgotten belongings on the ground, still flustered from the incident.

You were about to say goodbye and leave as quick as you could, before your book fell out of your basket and landed on the ground next to the man’s feet.

“Ah—“

The man bent down and picked up the book, about to hand it back to you, when he suddenly stopped and examined the cover.

You swore you could’ve been seeing things, but a small smile grazes his lips as he faces you.

“Are you also interested in the stories of Liyue?”

You stop in your tracks, turning to the man who was now flipping through the pages of the book to the section you had bookmarked prior.

His golden orbs now held an unreadable expression behind them, almost...nostalgic.

You felt a small surge of confidence as your favorite topic was brought up.

“Ah--yes, I am quite informed of the history of Liyue myself,” you smile softly to yourself, causing him to look up and chuckle.

“Is that so?” He hums, tilting his head upwards to face the blue sky, closing his eyes slowly. 

...slowly fluttering shut, head turning upwards, immersing himself in the soft breeze.

Your eyes widened at the sight.

There was no way.

But, there was no other explanation for it.

“May I...ask your name?” You ask carefully, awaiting his answer.

He shuts the book with a soft thud, handing it back to you to which you take back happily.

“I go by Zhongli.”

He offers you a smile, making your heart skip a beat and blood to your cheeks, as you stutter back your name in response.

“Be careful around these parts, monsters have been affected by some sort of spell here, making them stronger than usual,” he explains while putting away his spear he had used earlier.

Wielding a spear so sharp no blade could even hope to compete against.

There was no mistaking it.

“Are you perhaps--” 

You start to ask, gaining a curious gaze from him, however stopping in your words after realizing how bizarre you’d sound if you’d ask him the question you had been aching to voice since your meeting.

“Nevermind, I should get going,” You shake your head, thanking him once more before starting to walk away.

“If you’d like me to answer your question, meet me back here tomorrow, at the same time.”

Zhongli spoke behind you, making you turn and meet his eyes, which gazed back into yours almost knowingly. 

“But you don’t know what my question is,” you question, confusion evident on your features.

He chuckles again, the sound making you melt on the spot.

“Do not underestimate the geo archon.” 

With that, he disappears into the other direction, leaving you frozen in your place.

Did he just…?

A million thoughts were coursing through your head at the moment. But one thing was for sure, you couldn’t wait until tomorrow. 

--

That night, sleep did not come to you like usual.

With your head filled with thoughts about Zhongli, and his last words before departing, you were basically shaking with excitement.

Had you really met him?

Nevermind, your questions would all be answered the next day.

--

“I see you’ve arrived.”

Zhongli smiles at you, to which you return the gesture, still mesmerized by his delicate features to speak.

You had practically jumped out of bed this morning, making some jumbled excuse about fetching more berries and fowl to your mother, who was left dumbfounded.

Zhongli pats the spot beside him on the grass, and you notice his spear laying next to him on the other side.

Carefully sitting down next to the tall man, both of your backs leaned against the tree with its leaves above you providing minimal cover from the sun. It was then that you noticed the close proximity of your bodies, making you flush.

“So, would you like to ask me your question from yesterday?”

You bit your bottom lip nervously for a moment, before shaking your head and reaching next to you into the bag that you had brought. 

“Ah-- before that, Mr. Zhongli, you mentioned you are also interested in Liyue’s stories?” You pulled out the book from yesterday. 

He nods, as you flip open the book to the chapter you had bookmarked. The same chapter describing Rex Lapis’s first appearance.

“Just Zhongli is fine. And yes, I am also well-informed of the stories of Liyue. Would you like me to tell you some?”

You nod, showing him the marked section. “That would be nice, but could you answer this one question of mine first?”

He takes the book from your hands, bright pupils scanning over the words. A small breeze blew by just that moment, causing his long hair to lift slightly. The sunlight shone softly on his pale skin, giving him an almost ethereal aura.

You never thought someone could appear so calm and peaceful while reading a book.

“Yes, ask away.” 

He lifts his head up to meet your eyes, making you clear your throat, embarrassed you had been admiring him so openly.

Although that chapter remains your favorite chapter of all times, there had been one question that had stayed in the corner of your mind each time you read it.

“In that section, when Rex Lapis lifts his head and immerses himself in the wind, what do you think he was feeling? Satisfaction from eliminating his enemies? Or perhaps, tired from all the fighting in the Archon War?”

Zhongli hums, smiling gently at nothing in particular as he closes his eyes, lifting his head up towards the sky.

A small breeze passes by again, and you smile at the sight. You no longer questioned his true identity. You knew.

“That all may be true, however, I’d say he was feeling quite…” He pauses, as if trying to search for the right word.

“...saddened, almost.”

You tilt your head curiously, “Saddened?”

He nods, facing you, “Perhaps mournful, even. Have you ever wondered if Rex Lapis wanted to kill at all? Although those evil should be eliminated, they are still living souls, and perhaps he wished for everything to return to normal.”

Zhongli’s voice trailed off, as he held a sad feeling behind his eyes, making you unconsciously reach for his hand laying on his lap.

He looked at you in surprise at the sudden contact, and your eyes widened at your own actions, making a move to quickly retrieve your own hand, when he stops you.

 He brings the both of your hands together, now laying on his lap as red spreads through your cheeks.

The both of you sit in silence as a few beats pass, when he breaks the silence once again.

“I’d like to share with you some of my favorite stories of Liyue, would you be interested?”

You smile, nodding as he starts speaking again.

And he shares stories you’ve never heard before, or even some that you have, but a different version of. The difference in stories that you had believed your whole life made you surprised, not sure what to believe.

No, scratch that, deep down, you knew what to believe. Or, who to believe.

Zhongli shares his stories until it starts to become dark, to which he finally stops and suggests you return home.

“I’ll walk you home, it’s quite dangerous at night.”

You thank him, and you two start to make your way back, continuing to talk about Liyue and its fascinating history.

“Ah, it’s just right down there. Thank you for today, Zhongli.” You smile at him once again, ready to return before he stops you.

“Are you not going to ask me the question you had yesterday?” It was quite dark, so it was a bit difficult to tell, but you swore there was a slight smirk on his lips.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’ve got my answer already.”

He raises his eyebrows, a teasing hint in his voice, “Are you sure, Y/N?”

Hearing your name roll off his tongue sent shivers through your body, smirking back at him.

“I’m quite sure, Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli opens his mouth to speak before closing, as deep chuckles ring through the night. Not long after, your own quiet giggles joining him. Finally, you both recover from your laughter.

“Goodnight then, Morax, you still have to share your stories with me tomorrow.”

He smiles at you, golden eyes shining even through the dark. “Same time?”

You grin back, before turning to return back to your home. “Same time.”

Maybe you’d ask him to teach you how to fight tomorrow.

On second thought, perhaps your lack of experience in fighting was a good thing. For because of it, you had met the man who only existed in books that you’d read everyday.

Your once peaceful life, although disrupted by the appearance of the one and only geo archon you admired so dearly, had now offered you something to look forward to each day.

[omgitsshrimp]

[SPOILERS from Manga!] Attack on Titan Theory: The baby was NOT PLANNED.

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING!! IF YOU’RE ANIME ONLY SKIP THIS POST! 

I thought I’d share my own theory on the whole situation with Eren and Historia. Keep in mind this is just my opinion/interpretation of everything so far. I just want to get my two cents in. 

I know suggesting that the baby isn’t planned sounds nuts, but hear me out. In Ch 130 we’re shown panels of Eren and Historia discussing the military’s plans for her, Eren telling her his plan, and Historia discussing a baby with Eren. 

In one panel, Historia is standing in front of the wooden fence, on the left side of the panel; then in a later panel she’s standing in front of the wooden fence on the right side of the panel. 

I don’t think this is by accident. This implies that Eren and Historia met up more than once, which opens up a strong possibility of them meeting up several times in the past. So when Historia asks Eren about having a baby, we don’t know if she said that in the same conversation as the earlier panels. It could have happened at a completely different time. We only have a close up of her face when she says it, and we dont see the whole convo, which means we don’t know the full context around her bringing up a baby to Eren.  

*Assuming they have met up several times, it begs the question, why does Eren even meet up with Historia? In my opinion, it’s because he has feelings for her, and they might be involved romantically.

 We know that the songs for AoT can allude to or foreshadow events in the story. I feel like Eren and Historia’s meet ups were alluded to in two songs (that I know of) in AoT OST, “Zero Eclipse” and “Yuugure no Tori” (ed3).

Zero Eclipse (only later part of the song is related to Eren):

“Make a promise that I cannot regret, As long as I can see you but in secret”

Yuugure no Tori:

“I’ll sing out with my girl, Go to the meeting place sing alone”

If the Baby was Planned, It Would Contradict Eren’s ideals/motivation

Another reason I don’t think the baby is planned is because if the point is to not produce kids just for a strategic purpose then why would Eren and Historia make a plan to do just that? (ie having a baby to put off Historia eating Zeke). Having the reason for making a child be reduced to convenience/serving your plan doesn’t sit right with me. It doesn’t align with Eren’s beliefs, in my opinion.

Assuming that Eren and Historia are romantically involved and have been physically intimate for some time, I think its fair to consider that this baby was conceived by chance (as well as love) rather than some sort of necessity brought on by a situation. I think upon hearing what the military was planning for Historia, Eren decided to make plans for another way that wouldn’t sacrifice her. I don’t think that involved making a child. I think the child came about by chance and the panel of Historia asking Eren about a baby was maybe part of a longer conversation where she was telling him that she was pregnant. I know I’m making a lot of assumptions, but I don’t think its impossible. 

I think from there, Eren and Historia came up with a plan to hide the pregnancy in order to protect Historia from being connected to Eren, since he knew he was going to start going against the military and wanted to protect Historia from any association with that. And also, kept it secret because if Zeke some how found out, it would compromise Zeke’s confidence in Eren and mess up Eren’s plans. Eren and Historia’s plan to keep the paternity a secret involved lying about the due date and using the Farmer as a cover. I suspect the farmer guy agreed because he really did feel guilty about bullying Historia as a child. The fact that he felt guilty enough to work there for years opens the possibility of him willing to go along with Eren and Historia’s plan, so he can make up for everything.

Paneling Choices

Now I want to talk about Isayama’s choices when it comes to the panels in ch 130, specifically in regards to the scene of Eren making his plans, Eren and Historia talking, and Eren and Zeke discussing Mikasa. How Isayama chose to order these panels seemed to me, very intentional and meticulous. 

In the previous panels in the same chapter we see Eren refusing to allow Historia to be sacrificed and we see him willing to go against humanity for her (and Paradis as a whole). Isayama decided to shows us the process of Eren deciding to carry out this plan through his interactions with Historia, as if to convey that she’s a big reason for why he’s doing all this. He’s emphasizing her importance in how Eren came to start this mission by positoning her front and center. This sequence ends with Eren telling Historia that she saved him, paralleling Mikasa in a big way.

Then, we go to a conversation between Zeke and Eren about the Ackerman bloodline. Zeke is clarifying to Eren that there is no ingrained behavior and that Mikasa does all these things for him because she loves him. And right after Zeke says that, there is a panel of Eren and Historia. I feel like Isayama gave us an explanation of Eren’s actions right here. A discussion about Mikasa’s affection and devotion juxtaposed with images of Eren and Historia right after we saw several panels of Eren doing exactly what Zeke described Mikasa does for Eren, in my opinion, was meant to indirectly allude to why Eren is doing this and how he feels about Historia. Isayama doesn’t want to give it away just yet, but is giving subtle breadcrumbs. Using Mikasa’s feelings to juxtapose probably threw people off too.    

It’s my opinion that Eren loves Historia. There’s other evidence that people have pointed out that I also agree with, but I won’t delve deep I’ll just mention them here:

 -Hanji noticing Eren smiling at Historia and defending her wellbeing, then asking Eren about it. Eren snaps at Hanji when she brings up Historia.

-Historia getting teary eyed when Eren defends her in the meeting. 

The only person Eren has been consistent with protecting this whole time has been Historia. His desire to protect her never wavered. He’s been talking about protecting her since the end of season 3. The only person we’ve seen Eren confide in (about his plans etc.) is Historia. She’s clearly significant to him.

What Eren Kruger Said to Grisha

Another reason I think Eren loves Historia and is romantically involved with her is because of what Eren Kruger said to Grisha. The Attack titan shifter can see future memories as well as past ones. Kruger told Grisha to “love someone in the walls, build a family. If you can’t do that, the same cycle will repeat itself. If you want to save Mikasa and Armin, carry out your mission to the end”. I think Kruger was also talking to Eren here, OR Isayama was alluding to what Eren will need to do in order to save everyone. In the anime, they added a line for Kruger, he says “someone in the future might see this [moment/memory of their conversation]”. I think it was added to establish that there may be a link between what Kruger said and what Eren is doing. Afterall, we know Eren saw this conversation. 

I think Eren did fall in love, with Historia, and is building a family (conceived a baby by chance), and something about the experience of love and impending fatherhood has played an important role in Eren carrying out this mission and ultimately saving Armin, Mikasa and Paradis, while also ending the cycle of hate.

In Ch 130, we see Eren saying that he has to do the rumbling in order for the cycle of hate to end. Similar to what Kruger said. Everything is happening exactly as Eren saw it, we saw that with that little boy Halil (or was it Ramzi?). The future memories were all correct, so if Kruger was speaking based on future memories then what he said about love, building a family, saving Armin and Mikasa, probably had truth to it.

 Eren’s Talk with Mikasa in Ch 123

A lot of people see this as an ErenxMikasa moment but since Eren and Zeke’s conversation in Ch 130, I don’t think that’s the case. In Ch 123, Eren asks Mikasa “what am I to you?”. Mikasa flusters and says “family”. I think Eren asked her this because he was suspecting that her Ackerman bloodline was influencing her decisions. This probably worried him because he didn’t want Mikasa to be a slave to her bloodline. Mikasa’s answer didn’t clarify anything for him. He was left ambivalent on the subject and that’s why he asked Zeke about the Ackerman bloodline. 

Mikasa says in Ch 123, that maybe if she gave a different answer things would have happened differently, but Zeke did give Eren a clear answer about how Mikasa felt. Eren knew how she felt and it didn’t change anything. Eren was concerned about the Ackerman bloodline influence because he wanted Mikasa to be free, not because he’s romantically interested in her.

I do realize I could be dead wrong. I know suggesting the baby wasn’t planned is a huge stretch but I just thought I’d put it out there. I just want it to be true so badly lol. Even if the baby is planned, I think there’s still some truth to some of the other things I pointed out. This was just a fun thing for me to do. I normally don’t write long theory posts, but I figured why not since it’s so close to the end and everyone is speculating. Why not join in?

I think that’s it. I hope I’m not missing anything. As for how I think the whole story will end? I think because Eren freed Ymir, titan powers might cease to exist. But I don’t know how that’ll affect the 13 year Ymir curse if that does happen. So I guess we’ll see. 

Feel free to share your thoughts. I’m not AntiMikasa or anything. Please be respectful! Thanks for reading!

[phoneybeatlemania]

I was recently diagnosed with ASD and a few people were surprised cause Im not awkward when I talk to people. I'm very aware I could be projecting onto Paul but I find myself relating to him, like he seems to stim a lot in interviews. But then you dont need to be autistic to stim so who knows.

Discussion point: Paul & ASD

EDIT: Id recommend reading the response from @jeffreyrhymansss to this post (just look in the notes), since it gives far more insight into the psychology of autism then I could provide. Apologies about any misinformation I might've spread with this post, it was pure misguidance on my behalf. Not an excuse I know (I should be more cautious with this stuff) but just thought id clarify that I was never purposely being insensitive.

EDIT 2: id also like to just clarify though that I am all for discussions on Paul being neurodivergent - the same way that im all for discussions on John as having had a personality disorder. Im not personally convinced that Paul is autistic, but I think its plausible; ive just never read any in-depth and strong arguments for it, ive only come across brief speculations. I remain open to the idea of Paul being neurodivergent as a possibility, but id need to read a thorough and well-evidenced argument for the claim before really getting on board with it. Hope this cleared some things up :)

My mum is a bit like this - if you met her, it’s unlikely that you’d be able to tell that shes autistic because she’s quite low on the spectrum and interacts with people pretty confidently. Even my oldest brother didn’t know she’s autistic until last year, when I mentioned it in casual conversation and he was like “oh shit, that makes a lot of sense actually!!”. My point with mentioning all this is essentially that there are a lot of people (especially of Pauls generation) who are autistic, but just about pass for “normal” (used with some irony there, of course) enough to go undiagnosed, for varying reasons. And while you can usually tell if someone is on the autism spectrum, theres still a lot of people who learn throughout their childhood to mask their symptoms - and it becomes practically second nature. So you probably just wouldn’t know they were autistic, until you knew them quite intimately.

Personally, I don’t see tons of evidence to suggest that Paul is autistic - but there are stories here and there that make more sense (in terms of his behaviour) if you consider them within the context of him being somewhere on the spectrum. Its not a diagnosis I think you could build quite as strong a case for on, compared to something like John having BPD - still though, its plausible, its worth considering and its good to discuss it as possibility, since it could potentially help us in empathising with and understanding him.

On another note, I don’t actually think that projection is such a bad thing tbh. Its just a way of relating to and understanding these people; everybody projects to some degree, and while we should constantly try to question ourselves, saying “okay, but can I back this claim up with substantial and meaningful evidence? or is it pure projection?” - and I btw fully admit that im just as much prone to getting carried away with my analysis’s at times, so much so that they run into projection, as anyone else. I suppose still that projection is essentially just an unavoidable part of interpretation - and applying our own experiences onto our speculations can have the capacity to speak certain truths about (god i hate to use this phrase) ~the human experience~ (<<< blahhhhhhhhh) just be careful, and question yourself.

[bloodycassian]

heavy is the head - Cassian x reader-  reader has to deal with Night court forces in a battle with Spring. Part two likely.

"Look who's come to plead for help." Cassian drawled, looking you up and down. Rhys gave him a sharp look that he shrugged off. You held back your fighting words and approached with false confidence.

"And look at the male who lost a fight to a giant fish." You retorted, giving him the same judgmental look.

"The levithan-" He began, and you swore you saw the Shadowmaster roll his eyes.

"Enough. We have matters to discuss." Rhys silenced him before he could continue. You gave him a sweet smile and turned to the high lord. 

You noted how the shadowmaster smiled. His dark hair glinting in the pale light of the meadow. They all looked alike, the dark hair that reflected the moonlight like a river. The dark wings that blended into the night far too easily. The sight of them made you shiver.

You began before one of them could bring up anything else. There was no other reason for you to call the meeting, it was pain. You were desperate. And if Rhys was so adamant about keeping all of Prythian safe, he would listen. "Spring court presents more of a problem than we thought. Tamlin's son is preparing to invade." You reported, extending your palm for them to see the evidence you'd brought. 

A fragment of an arrowhead tipped in faebane. You kept it wrapped in a leather cloth for a reason. "Where is he getting these?" Azriel asked, his shadows running over your palm and the arrow there. The tinginging feeling they left behind made you sick to your stomach. “That’s out of my pay grade, shadowmaster.” You said with a bitter smile.

 “You’re the next heir to the throne.” Cassian laughed despite himself. He wasn’t a fan of Summer Court after the blood rubies sent to them by the previous ruler. They had recalled them, but the message still stung.

“I am the throne. My father’s time is coming quickly.” You said with a clipped tone, not sparing them any room for further questions before continuing. "Summer court cant risk any more ships to the southern border. We are losing more and more soldiers daily just to hold the line." 

"Perhaps you could train better-" Cassian was full of fight tonight it seemed. And you were willing to oblige, you bared your teeth at him and cut off those words before you could 

"Perhaps you could allow us some help. We are allies if I recall correctly?” You tapped a finger to your chin, earning an eyeroll from the two generals. Rhys just leveled you a cool glare.

"Reluctantly." He admitted, then looked to the sky. "Cassian..." He called. You felt there was some other conversation continuing in their heads based off Cas’ reaction. It was predictable, him acting like such a child. But it still hurt, nonetheless.

"Rhys- No..." He whined, his wings flaring out a bit. You watched the sharp tips of them as they so expertly avoided catching his hair or head. You wondered what it was like having such an advantage. You wondered what all Illyrians thought of the wings, if all of them loved them or if they had mixed opinions. 

You knew a few Peregryns from Dawn court that resented being born with wings because it meant they had to serve in the army. Some even ‘went missing’ to other courts to avoid being enlisted. You wished you had that option at all. But Tarquin would likely send the entire army after you if you had done so. Being his only child meant good training, as well as being very well known throughout Prythian. Just like Kova.  

"We can discuss this later.” Rhys said with a sharp tone. Cassian’s look of betrayal made you wonder what the actual conversation would be about. “Now I need you to pledge forces to our Summer ally. We can't risk Kova moving north." 

Cassian was silent for a long moment. Contemplating. He knew he couldn’t tell Rhys no. Especially in front of a different Court member. But his battle instincts told him hell no. Do not give forces over to someone who dosen’t even know how to handle them. "Cassian." Azriel said softly, his shadows circling his brothers. 

He compromised. "Two legions. I will lead them tomorrow." 

You hated the reluctance in his voice. "Two legions are a sacrifice. You don't know the terror that child brings-"

"Two legions or nothing. Your choice." Cassian said firmly.

"Cass-" Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose. "We will consider more options. For now, we will give you what we can spare in weapons as well as the legions." He held a hand up to Azriel when he made to argue. 

"Thank you, your highness." You gave a half assed bow, and he was gone before you rose. You smiled to yourself at the faint echo of a growl in the meadow. 

+

You donned your most threatening armor and set out to greet the Illyrians. The far hills of Summer court were donned with swaying brown beach grass that hissed in the wind. The ocean spray shimmered above the dark ranks of warriors. The sun did not glint off their armor like it did on yours. 

Cassian's look of distaste said all you needed to see to understand that the Illyrians were not ones for following orders. "One hundred Illyrians. All with weapons that they will take care of." He gave a sidelong glance to the males to his left. They tensed, but did not scare from their general. Whatever they had done must not have been too awful if they were still standing.

Azriel squinted against the Summer sunlight. His shadows seemed more highlighted than ever against the beating sun. "Welcome... I will guide us the rest of the way to the camp." You said, loud enough that the entire crowd could hear you. 

You marched forward, and none followed. 

A male spat on the ground where you had been standing. His wings were gray and tattered, face a strange pale color that didn't match the rest of the Illyrians. A man who had seen too many days for what Illyrians were used to. 

"We dont take orders from a Summer court-" Cassian did not let the male continue. He took the crossbow from his hands, and gave the soldiers around him a nod. They parted around the male. His face went white as a sheet. Cassian's frustration turned his expression into that of a wild wolf. He knew that there would be some to stand against him in helping.

"ninety nine soldiers, I must have miscounted." Cassian announced, and waved the forces forward to follow. You smiled to yourself, and led them through the tall pine and larch trees that made up the forest border with Spring. 

Cassian carried the crossbow the entire journey from the hills to the camp. Summer soldiers did not hide the way they stared at the winged males. Some even moved their setups to be further away. You didn't blame them, but embarrassment ran through you at the message it sent. 

"Half of you will flank Tamli- Kova’s…” You corrected yourself and spat the name. Cassian wondered what kind of hatred lie there. There was obviously something beyond just enemy courts. “-forces from the shoreline. The other half will follow the second front into the border.” You ran a finger across the map. Cassian was thoroughly impressed with your planning. He noted the details of which fronts were where and what diversions were being made by specific groups. 

“Az will lead the flank. I’ll take the front.” He spoke with the confidence of a male who had never lost a battle. He knew Tamlin’s upfront ways on top of it all. He would have trained his son to do the same. 

“Dismissed.” Cassian announced, and the Illyrians went straight to the long dinner table. Az followed, giving his brother a long look before departing. Cassian knew that look. The one that said ‘watch your back. I’m not watching it for you.’ After centuries of giving each other that look, it was enough to rattle him. What exactly had he been doing to warrant that from his brother? He stared at the map on the table. 

He felt your presence before he heard you. Like a snake creeping around, waiting to strike. “This is a good plan.” He approved, then stole a glance to see your reaction. 

“I would hope so. It’s our last push to keep them out of Summer territory.” You collected your pawns from the table and tried not to look at him. He watched you move with fluid grace that was common in Fae.. but you were different somehow. Like you moved with extra care. It made him uncomfortable. Why did it bother him so much? He tried to shake himself from the stupor he felt around you.

He took crossed his arms over his chest, feeling his wings flare at the frustration he was “If you had boats to help that would ensure you winning this.” 

“You mean us winning this?” He bit his tongue. He didn’t like the idea of allying with someone with a reputation like yours. It was dangerous even getting this close. As if you could read his thoughts, you rolled your eyes. “Like I said, we can’t risk any more.”

“But you can risk my people?” The words stung with accusation. With a underlying tone of shame and history there. He tried not to think of himself as fully Illyrian after what they’d done to his mother. But he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the brutality of the culture. It made him what he was. It forced him to survive instead of dying in those camps alone, freezing to death.

You were silent at the simmering question. He smiled bitterly. “You can say what you want but I brought them here. Now you need to make sure your side keeps them alive.” He didn’t look back when he left you standing there in front of your battle map.

“Heavy is the head...” You thought.

[yelenasdog]

heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)

genre: angst+fluff

summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now

words: 4.06k

warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci

a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling

·。·。·。

“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”

Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.

But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.

“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”

Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.

“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”

Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.

“How’d he die?”

Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.

“Suicide, after the war.”

“And your mother?”

He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.

“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”

The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.

“Right then.”

The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).

“Welcome to the family, son.”

And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.

He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.

“So, how’d it go?”

It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.

“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.

She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.

“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”

She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.

“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.

Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!

So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.

“Arvin?”

He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.

Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.

“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.

And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.

“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.

“You could say that.”

The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.

But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).

“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.”  He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.

“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”

And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.

“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”

They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.

Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.

“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion. 

The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.

As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.

And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.

One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.

“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.

“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.

The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.

“Come again, son?”

Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.

“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”

The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.

“I just thought that after our arrangement-”

“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”

The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.

“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand

“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.

The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.

“Would you die for her?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.

The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.

“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?

Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.

The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.

It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.

It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows. 

When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.

Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.

And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?

“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”

“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”

Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.

“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.

“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”  

Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.

“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”

She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.

“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.

So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.

He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.

He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.

He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.

He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.

“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.

“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.

“That I love her so much.”

Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.

“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”

Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.

“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.

“Long enough.”

There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world. 

Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated. 

Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel. 

“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

·。·。·。

how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself

 xx hj

[machinegunbun]

After watching that video I thought of something could u imagine colson pulling u up on stage and he asked u to do something and u diddnt maybe cuz u was to shy or something and he goes 100% into dom mode. I've seen clips where he would bring fans on stage and get a little dominant with them

FUUUCK I’m in love with this. If yall ever wonder why full fic comes out few and far between its cause I have so much fun with theseee

Please send me videos of him being dominant on stage with fans.

Okay, so.

You were sat in the middle of and mgk concert, front row. You wouldn’t be surprised if your eyes were popping out of your head as you stared up at him, slipping his shirt over his head to combat the heat that had been building for the past half hour.

“Choke me daddy!” You yell, your bestfriend smacking you on the arm and laughing. You look away to smile at her for a second before returning your attention to the tall boy on the stage. You’re taken aback as you’re met with the view of him crouched infront of you on the edge of the stage, the other girls in the crowd reaching up to pull on his pants.

He pulls you up on stage your eyes never leaving his as you climb up, standing awkwardly next to him

“Whats your name?” He asks, offering you the mic. Your voice gets caught in your throat, looking back into the crowd to look at your friend for reassurance. She offers a thumbs up, laughing at your embarrassment. 

“Don’t look at her, look at me. Whats your name?”

“Y/N” you whisper, a small laugh following

“Nahh,” he laughs “Dont be acting shy now. Repeat that shit. Here.” He says, shoving his mic into your face. Your hands come up to cover your face, hiding the flush that comes over your cheeks. You hadn’t expected him to hear you, and now you were stood infront of thousands of people being confronted by him.

He moved your hands from your face, you look back to your friend on instinct and he tangles his fingers into your hair, forcing your view back to him.

“Say it.”

“Choke me.” You repeat, your voice echoing throughout the room, amplified by the mic. The eye contact only intensifies the nervous feeling in your stomach, Colson licks his lips and nods, his hand coming up to wrap around your neck. You gulp, your eyes faltering for a moment before returning to his. He leans down, lips connecting with your own in a rough, messy kiss. He traps your bottom lip between his own, pulling away and bringing it with him, your lip making a small slapping sound as it falls back in place.

“Yeah, Imma choke you alright.” He says, a small ingenuine laugh slipping past his lips “Get on your knees.” he demands. He isn’t focusing so much on speaking into the mic for all to hear as he is speaking directly to you, so it’s unclear how much the rest of the crowd could hear. All they knew was that they saw you lower yourself onto your knees and his hand coming to the back of your head, shoving your face into his lap.

The redness of your cheeks was evident  as you looked up at him, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

“You wanna talk your shit but can’t handle the real me, tuh.” You really didn’t know what came over you, but when he said this, in front of everyone, so cocky and confident in himself, so sure you couldn’t possibly handle someone like him... It just pissed you off so much.

Your eyes turn from nervous and innocent to confident and angry, you were gonna prove him wrong. Your mind flipped through your options, you weren’t confident enough in yourself to do something like stand up (well, really at all) and grind on him, so instead you just bury your face in his lap once again, figuring if you were gonna be embarrassed and haunted by this moment for the rest of your life you might aswell make the most of it. You turn your head from side to side, smothering your face in his dick as he smirks down at you, licking a stripe up his midriff, suckling on each of his red X tattoos. You refused to break eye contact, determined to prove to him he was something you could handle. That he was wrong. That you had no reason to be embarrassed. You were confident and sexy and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be able to handle you.

He turns you around, pressing his clothed bulge into you so you can feel just how turned on he is, grinding into you. You begin to shake your ass against him  bit as if you were fucking back against him, his hand coming down to deliver a harsh slap to your ass.

“Get the fuck off my stage.” he says, thrusting into you, knocking you off the edge.