#coming back with a new piece of writing after more than a month of total eclipse on my part

[melodeebarnes]

"Of course, I noticed"

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It's your first Christmas with the Avengers, and you're nervous. Not everyone is big on the idea of a new teammate. They haven't been very good at remembering to include you. However, someone you least expected remembered.

Notes from Author: This is my first thing to write on here, and first written out fanfic ever. So, not sure how I feel about this. I started writing this at 2AM. So, we'll see.

*No mention of y/n*

It's currently 7:45AM, and you've just finished up wrapping the present you picked out for Wanda. You want to make sure everything is perfect.

It's you're first Christmas living in the compound and what happens today could determine how everyone thinks about you. You may be overreacting a bit...but what if you're not? Either way, your nerves are at their peak.

You take a deep breath, and grab all of the gifts you bought for everyone. You head down to the main living area, which holds the biggest Christmas tree in the compound. You delicately place each present underneath it, next to the other ones.

You follow the aroma of fresh hot coffee into the kitchen. You pass Wanda, who's flipping a pancake, humming to the Christmas music sounding from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

You grab your favorite mug, and quickly turn, eager for the first sip of coffee. Thankfully you got here just in time, as there isn't much left. You pour the rest of the steamy hot goodness into your cup.

You quickly doll in up, a little bit of cream, and a little bit of sugar. Just the way you like it. You take the first sip, and it's perfec-

"You've got to be kidding me." Bucky groans, causing everyone to turn their attention to him. Though, his eyes seem to be on you. "You just HAD to take the last of the coffee?"

Bucky. He's the person you knew you'd have the most trouble with today. He has never been fond of you. You thought he just needed some time to warm up to you, but even after months he still hates you. He made up his mind about you the first day, and won't change it.

"I'm sorry, there wasn't much left." You explain.

He scoffs, "So you think you can just come in here and take it? You have no right to-"

"Hey! What's the rule?" Wanda interrupts, immediately shutting him up. "No arguing on Christmas morning," she reminds.

He huffs out a sigh, glaring at you. "Whatever." He mutters.

"Here, I'll make another pot." Steve offers, being the peacemaker, he is. He looks back at you, giving a friendly smile.

Everyone sits down, eating their breakfast. There's a bit of banter between the group, but you just sit and listen. They're clearly more familiar with each other than they are with you.

They haven't made much effort to get to know you on a personal level, so you chose not to force it.

Tony walks in into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bacon from the plate. "Alright, now that I'm here we can start the real meaning of the gracious holiday."

You follow behind everyone to the black velvet couches and sit in the in the empty spot on the corner. Natasha passes out everyone's gifts to their recipient.

As you watch each gift get passed out, you notice how few of gifts you have, compared to everyone else. You have two gifts, one from Steve, and one with no name.

"Sorry, we're not used to you being here for Christmas." Bruce shrugs.

"Oh, no. It's fine. I totally understand" You try to hide the disappointment behind a smile, but there's no hiding the sadness' in your eyes. Though, no one cares enough to notice.

You try to brush it off and open the gifts you do have. Inside the gift from Steve is new training gloves. Your old ones were already beginning to wear out, your thankful to have new ones.

"Thank you, Steve."

"My pleaser." He smiles, warmly.

The second gift with no name, is a small box with a poorly tied bow. You sigh at the lack of effort. When you open it, you see a necklace with a diamond incrusted butterfly charm. It's the same one you saw at an antique store you went to when everyone was out shopping on a day off.

You figured no one was paying attention, but clearly someone was. "Wait, who is this from?" You ask, gently holding up the necklace.

Everyone either shrugs, or looks around looking for an answer to the same question.

"Well whoever it was, thank you so much." You're unable to stop smiling. You admire the beauty of the necklace.

A few hours later, you're back up in your room. You decided to leave the celebration early because you felt left out. It just seemed like it'd be best for everyone.

However, the sound of a knock, echos off your door.

"Who is it?" You raise your voice, in order for them to hear you. When there's no answer, you sigh getting up. You slowly open to door, to see Bucky standing on the other side, hands in pockets, and eyes avoiding yours.

"Uhm...may I help you?" You ask, confused.

"I just came to tell you, we're doing our annual Christmas movie night, in case you wanted to join." He mutters, looking off to the side.

"Trust me, no one wants me there."

"That's not tru-" He cuts himself off.

You furrow your brow, "What?" you ask.

"Did you not like the gift?" He asks, now looking at your neck, still bare with no jewelry.

"No, I loved it I just-" you got yourself off, suddenly putting the puzzle pieces together. "Wait, that was from you?" You question, taken aback.

"Uhm..yeah." He mutters.

"Why didn't you put a name on it?" You feel confused. Why would, Bucky, of all people be the one to get you the meaningful gift.

"Well, usually everyone can tell by the wrapping." He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm not the best at it, but I swear I try."

"Well, that is what matters." You laugh. "Wait, but how did you know?"

"When we were all out shopping, I saw the way your face lit up when you saw the necklace." He explains. "So, I assumed it'd be the perfect gift for you."

"I can't believe you noticed that."

"Of course, I noticed." He smiles at you for the first time ever.

You can't lie, seeing him smile did abrupt a few stray butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you, it must've cost a fortune."

He shakes his head. "The price isn't what matters. It's the thought that goes into the gift."

"I never thought I'd hear that coming out of your mouth." You laugh.

"Yeah, and if you tell anyone I'm gonna have to kill you." He jokes.

"Can't ruin your big bad wolf reputation, right?"

"Hey, it's white wolf." He corrects.

You put your hands up in defense. "My apologies."

"Wait, so why aren't you wearing the necklace?" He asks.

"I'm not great at putting on necklaces, and I didn't want to break or mess it up." You explain.

He nods in understanding, "Would you like me to help?" He asks.

"Sure, I would love your help." You smile, opening the door wide, inviting him inside.

He hesitantly walks in, immediately spotting the gift sitting in the poorly wrapped box. You smile, delicately taking it out and handing it to him. You turn around, watching him through the mirror.

He uses his flesh hand to gently brushes your hair out of the way, sending shivers down your spine. He brings the beautiful necklace in front of you, and you lift your hair up out while he clasps the chain.

You let your hair fall, but you both stand silently looking in the mirror. Suddenly he ends the silence by clearing his throat.

"It's beautiful, Bucky. Thank you."

"Call me Buck." He smiles, again.

"Really? But I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you. Sometimes I'm just not great with new recruits, and I don't handle it the proper way." He looks away, embarrassed by the way he's been acting. "And I'm sorry for treating you so poorly these past few months."

"It's okay." You smile.

"Now come on, lets go down for movie night." He begins to walk out.

"But they probably don't want me there." You say.

"If they have anything to say, they'll have to deal with me." He warns. "Between me and you, they're all a little if not extremely scared of me." He laughs.

"Well then, this should be good." You smile, and follow him out.

[cloudiewrites]

OMG. Hiiii. I love Tom Riddle and Theodore Nott. So I am totally going to ask you if you are comfortable to write either Professor Tom or a Professor Theo x fem reader fic with smut. Feel free to ignore this but I really struggle to find Professor Tom fics and Idk how to write them 😅

Professor Tom Riddle x f!reader

Warnings: strong language, toxic behaviour, manipulation, SMUT reader is a student in the beginning (still over 18!), reader becomes a little bit unhinged towards the middle (who wouldn't after meeting TR?) 18+MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Author's Note: Wow, this took me ages to post! I was having a break from this blog due to my exams, but I promise I will be more active from now on. Also, this is actually my first smut! (Idk how to write them either, so I do hope you like it.) I tried to build some plot into it, so it is not just filthy p*rn, haha. Thank you so much for your request! <3

There are moments that change your life. Moments when you realise you will never be the same and your whole existence is divided into two parts - before this, and after this.

For you, this moment was meeting Tom Riddle.

The memories of that rainy day when your gazes crossed for the first time continue to haunt your thoughts almost every second of your existence. And no matter how hard you try to forget, they become more and more vivid. Sometimes you wonder if you are actually reliving it or if it is just a fruit of your imagination.

The rain was so cold that day, that your whole body was shivering under your soaking clothes. You were running across the courtyard, trying to get inside as soon as possible. Both of your hands were clutching your bag on top of your head, trying to prevent the water from getting into your eyes. You were almost at the door when your body collided with someone, and you lost your balance falling into a muddy puddle.

You looked up, ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever made you end up like this, but your words got stuck in your throat the moment your gaze crossed his.

Eyes as dark as the night. Skin as pale as the moonlight. Hair falling in elegant curls on top of the most beautiful face you have ever seen. He silently offered you his hand, before he took off his jacket and wrap it around your trembling figure.

"Are you alright?", he asked. His voice was smooth like honey, yet deep. You couldn't do anything else other than slowly nod before your cheeks turned a light shade of red. He offered you a small smirk, before guiding you inside the castle. No words were exchanged between you after that.

Looking back, you are sure that this was the moment that changed your life.

You didn't know who he was at first. He looked so young, that it was natural to assume he was your age. You have not seen him before, so he must be a transfer student, just like you were a year ago. "He did not wear a robe, so he must not been sorted yet", you said to your friends later that day and they just shook their heads. No one has heard of any transferring students this year, yet here you were claiming you have seen in the flesh the man of your dreams.

And you were almost convinced you were dreaming a few days later when you found yourself sitting in the back of the class, while he was neatly writing his name on the black board.

Professor Riddle.

"As your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I would like to establish a few ground rules right now", his voice was calm but dominant, "Always come prepared. I do not tolerate lazy students. No talking during class. No questions during lessons. If there is anything you do not understand, you can either conduct your own research in the library or visit one of my additional sessions every third Friday of the month."

Unlike you, the majority of the students have already heard of Tom and some even knew him personally, as he graduated just a few years ago. They carefully listened to all his rules, noting everything they should do to stay on his good side. No matter the house, the respect and fear felt towards Tom was felt by all students. You would lie if you said that this did not include you.

Yet in two weeks time during his first Friday session, you found yourself leaning over your notebook, while Tom was calmly explaining the lesson material to you. You were nodding your head, not paying even a little bit of attention to what he was saying. All you could focus on was the sound of his voice and the tingles that covered your whole body every time he lifted his eyes to your face, checking if were actually following.

"I am curious, miss, for the real purpose of your visit today", he said once you started packing your bag. You immediately froze in place, cold sweat forming on the back of your neck. Your trembling hands closed your bag before you turned to him with a tight-lipped smile.

"I am not sure I understand what you mean, professor."

He offered you a small smile, before grabbing his coat and briefcase and making his way towards you. Stopping just a step away from you, he lifted his hands toward your neck, making you gulp. You stood still, expecting him to wrap his hand around your throat, while his eyes burned into yours. His long fingers inched closer and closer to your skin, before wrapping around your tie and adjusting it so it could be centred.

"I am a patient and understanding man, miss", he said, his hand resting on the piece of cloth for a few more seconds, before moving away, "But I am no fool."

And you knew his words to be true. Because if there was a fool here, that was you. You knew it was wrong to pursue the foolish feelings that started to blossom in your chest. Despite the age difference being only a few years, falling for a professor was never a good idea. But how could you stop yourself when every time his eyes laid upon you there was a feeling of longing behind them? The small touches on your arms, every time he tried to explain to you the parts of the textbook you claimed "not to understand", the way his lips curved in a small smirk every time you volunteered to help during demonstrations in class, the way his gaze darkened that time he saw your friend's arms wrapped around your shoulders during dinner...

He may have thought he was subtle, but you knew there was some part of him that desired you as much as you did.

"What do you think of me, professor?", you asked one day, while sitting on the desk, arranging papers. As you were the only student who showed any interest in DADA sessions outside the scheduled classes, Tom moved the Friday meetings to his private office. They also started to happen every week, rather than once per month. And often, you were helping him with work, rather the other way around. "Why?", his gaze lifted from the papers he was grading, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. He laid his pen down, crossing his arms in front of his chest and resting his body back on his chair. You sat next to him on a smaller wooden chair, but your hands did not stop arranging the graded exams, and neither did your focus move from them.

"I am...", you took a deep breath, thinking how to phrase your explanation, "Curious, I guess."

Tom watched you with interest, noting the way that your voice trembled in the beginning. Looking up at your face, his eyes trailed every single one of your features, before stopping at your lips.

"You are a good student", he finally said, his tone flat. Your shoulders immediately slumped and you let out a quiet "Oh.", your fingers now pressing the tower of papers on its sides to make sure it is stable. The silence between you grew longer as you tried your best to hide the disappointment you felt from his answer. Tom, on the other hand, was still staring at your face, trying to read your emotions based on your pursed lips and furrowed brows.

"All finished. I think it is better if I go", you finally said, unable to sit in his presence anymore. You stood up, ready to grab your bag from the floor, when cold fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist halting you in place. Tom stood up from his chair, moving behind you. Laying his free hand on the side of your waist, he leaned towards you, nose just a few inches from your hair. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume, and let out a low groan.

"What I really think...", he murmured, the fingers on your waist digging into your flesh, "is not something I shall voice out loud. The thoughts that flood my mind every time I see you are too..."

Your breath hitched.

"Too?"

"Sinful", you felt his breath on the back of your ear and your body involuntarily shivered. Before you could think of an answer, his hands left your body and he took a step back. You turned around, eager to close the distance again, but were stopped by him grabbing your shoulder and gently pushing you away.

"Do not", he warned, "do not make this harder for both of us."

"But I-"

"I think it is best if you leave."

You gulped. And the first time your eyes did not cast down in shame - instead you held his gaze, your expression hardening.

"You cannot do this to me", your voice trembled, "Toying with my feelings , then pushing me away."

He raised his brow and his hand fell from your shoulder. You stood in place, not making any attempts to get closer.

"I did not do such thing", his voice sounded low and dark, his eyes suddenly turning colder, "In fact, I am telling you now... Whatever hope you hold in your heart about anything happening between us, you should kill it now."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said", he interrupted you impatiently, "And I mean it. But whatever affection I have towards you does not change the fact you are my student."

Your fingers wrapped around the edge of your skirt and you clenched your jaw, moving your gaze towards the door. The rational part of your brain was telling you to just grab your bag and dash through the door. The other part, the one led by your heart, was screaming at you to stay and confront him. It did not take you long to decide which one to listen to.

"Why does it matter?", you snapped, "I am an adult already. And you are only a few years older. It is not illegal or anything!"

Tom let out an annoyed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, before running his fingers through his dark curls. He turned around and walked around the desk, before slamming his hands on the hard surface.

"Merlin, you just do not understand!", his voice was full with irritation, "I can not lose my job. I can not lose everything I have worked for!"

"We can hide it", you protested, gluing yourself to his side and gripping his bicep, "Only for a few months! Only till I graduate!"

The man tore your hands away from his arm, cupping them in his palms instead. He tilted his head, searching your eyes, which were now starting to form tears of stress and frustration.

His face suddenly relaxed. The air between you felt lighter and a new spark of hope started to burn inside of you. His finger made its way to your cheek and wiped one of the tears that started to trail down your skin.

"Is it not curious, how weak love makes a man?", his finger trailed down to your jaw, before cupping it, "And no spell in this world is strong enough to save a man that has already fallen."

Your head instinctively leaned towards his hand and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of warmth of his skin on yours. If you could only freeze time, you would stay in this moment forever.

"I don't want to be saved", you murmured and despite not being able to see him, you could feel the small smile that grazed his lips once you said it. You freed your hands from his and wrapped them around his torso, burying your head in his chest. It took a few seconds for him to embrace your body, resting his chin on the top of your head.

And if you could only see the satisfied smirk and cold gaze on Tom's face, you would have known how true his words are. There is no spell in this world that could save you not that you have already fallen...

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You can't say exactly when the dream had turned into a nightmare.

Private sessions became everyday afternoon meetings, where you talked about different random topics. Tom never opened up about his past, even his Hogwarts years. On the other hand, he was a good listener and without you realising it, he managed to unravel your whole family history just within a week.

His silent nature did not bother you, however. You finally had someone who listened to you. You slowly started to detach from your friends, excusing your unnatural behaviour on all the extra academic work you were taking. They were worried, but every time they tried to voice their concerns, you rolled your eyes, before running to Tom to tell him about their words. "They are just jealous of you, my dear, " he would always chuckle, gently stroking your cheek, "because you found what they would keep searching for a long, long time."

Soon, he was the only person you really trusted. And he claimed he felt the same.

This is why he couldn't ask anyone else to sneak into the Headmaster's office and get the little leather diary in one of his desk drawers. This is also why you had to find a way to get the books he was interested in from the restricted section without getting caught. This is also why you had to lure the naive fifth-year Hufflepuff into the Chamber of Secrets and leave her there.

There was simply no one else whom he trusted to do these tasks. And you gladly completed each of his requests without question, doing everything in your power to keep him happy.

But soon this was not enough. And once you graduated all the promises he made to you broke into thousand little pieces, which were discarded into thin air.

"I don't need you anymore", his cold voice said, his eyes glued to the papers in front of him, "You can leave. Make sure you close the door."

Without sparing you even a glance, he grabbed the pile of papers and left for class, leaving you to gather your thoughts and pieces of your heart by yourself.

What did you do wrong? Why did he change so suddenly? Was it all a lie?

These questions continued to poison your mind for the next few years, while you tried to rebuild yourself. You did not realise how dependent you were on him, till you were left on your own. The weight of all the unsaid feelings within you was forcing you onto your knees, making you unable to get up and continue with your life.

And this is how two years after your graduation you found your way back to Hogwarts. The place where it all began...

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The wooden clock on the wall was ticking dangerously close to midnight when Tom finally got to his office. The teacher's gathering has been prolonged unnecessarily due to Dumbledore's ramblings and him finding problems where there are none. The amount of control the young professor has exercised to endure this long meeting has left him completely drained of energy, but he knew he still had to do some research about the Founders' Relics. After so many years he was finally getting close to achieving his goal and he was ready to sacrifice as many nights of sleep as necessary.

He knew something was not right the moment he opened the door. The lights were still off and everything seemed to be in the exact place he left it... but there was just the faintest sound of someone breathing which made him immediately reach for his wand.

"Ah, look who finally came", your giggle reached his ears before he saw you turning on his chair, fingers moving towards the small lamp on his desk, "Terribly rude of you to make me wait this long."

Tom's lips pressed into a thin line and his grip around his wand tightened. He traced his eyes over the visible parts of your body, noting the little changes that had occurred since he last saw you.

Your hair, which was usually neatly combed and put in a bun, was now in a messy braid, the front pieces framing your face. Your lips, which usually curved in a shy smile, were now forming an arrogant, almost sinister smirk. Your eyes, which have always looked up to him full of admiration, were now staring down at him with a glint of insanity.

"Get out", he commanded, striding towards you with his wand pointed towards your head.

Your raised your eyebrows and your mouth shaped an "o" in a mock horror, before you reached for your own wand, pointing it back at him.

"Now that is not a way to welcome your ex-lover, is it?", your eyes squint.

Tom scoffed at your words, stopping at the edge of his desk, before his expression hardened.

"You were never my lover", he stated, his head tilting to the side, "And I thought I was extremely clear when I said last time I saw you that you are not welcome here."

You hummed, eyes moving to the ceiling. Still holding your wand towards him, you relaxed further into his chair, lifting your legs onto his desk. With a curious gaze, you followed the stone patterns of the walls around the room, while scrunching your face in disgust.

"3 years, Tom", you finally said, landing your attention back on him, "3 years you have been here and your office is as bland as it was when you first came here. It brings my mood down, you know? It's so grey!"

"You can leave then", Tom hissed through his teeth, making a few more steps till he stayed right in front of you. The tip of his wand rested under your chin and he pulled it upwards, making you look up, "I am giving you exactly a minute to leave, before I take your life."

A loud giggle left your lips and you pressed your neck further into his wand.

"How generous!"

"45 seconds."

You gently put your own wand back into your pocket, not moving your eyes from his. Tilting your head, your mouth formed a wide smile.

"Okay."

His brows shot in confusion, his jaw clenching. You could see his on the wand became tighter, his knuckles almost white.

"Okay?"

"Do it", you shrug your shoulders, "My ghost will be eager to see how are you going to explain why your new assistant went missing after coming to your office to drop a list of all the students that are going to be in your... our class this year."

Before you know it, his free hand flew to your face and gripped your face. His fingers dig into your jaw, lifting it dangerously close to his face.

"My assistant?", he let out a dry chuckle, "Good try, dear. And a terrible way to waste that minute I gave you."

With lips already starting to form the words of the deadliest spell, his fingers dug deeper into your face, before his eyes landed on the sparkling object in your palms. The unforgivable words quickly died in his throat and he withdrew his wand, stumbling back. Eyes full of anger met yours, who in contrast were sparkling with playfulness.

"How did you get that?", he demanded, reaching towards the object, but you pulled it back, before laying it on your head. Putting your elbows on his desk, you fluttered your eyelashes, smiling brightly.

"Do you think it suits me?"

"Stop playing around."

"You are such a bore", you rolled your eyes, "I went on a holiday to Albania. And I found this gorgeous, gorgeous diadem, which turned out to be Rowena Ravenclaw's. What are the chances?"

Tom seemed unamused by your story, instead twitching his jaw. His eyes stayed glued to the diadem on your head, the reflection of the sapphire on it sparkling in his cold eyes.

"How did you know where it was?", his gaze moved towards you, his hand putting his wand back in his coat. His tall form moved towards you again, this time taking a seat on the empty surface of the desk in front of you. With a smile, you took the diadem out of your head, twirling it between your fingers.

"You don't think you were the only one who managed to charm the famous Helena Ravenclaw, do you?", you raised your eyebrow, moving your tongue across your top lip, "You underestimate the power of women's empathy and love for gossip, Tom."

He let out an airy laugh, running a hand through his thick curls. After two years, he hasn't changed anything about his appearance. His face, his haircut, and even the suits he wore were the exact same ones he already wore when you were a student. You would lie if you said you didn't enjoy it - that meant that the Tom you loved was still somewhere inside of him. Your Tom.

"I'm impressed", he finally said, moving his hands towards his knee and locking his fingers around it. His face dropped into a serious expression once again, "Give it to me."

You tilted your head, pursing your lips. Your eyes moved to the diadem, before landing back on him.

"Oh, I can't do that, Tom", you rested your palm on your chest, looking up at him with doe eyes, "He would be very disappointed if I don't bring it back to him."

Tom took a deep breath, his upper lip twitching.

"He?", he pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek, "Who is "he"?"

You twirled in his chair, pressing the diadem closer to your chest.

"My Lord, of course", you let out a giggle, resting your cheek on your shoulder and closing your eyes. You still managed to see the way Tom's body tensed, however.

"He sent his regards to you", you smiled, standing up, "If you hadn't left me that day, he wouldn't have met me and subsequently learned all about making horcruxes."

The man's eyes immediately darkened and his hand flew towards your wrist, stilling you in place.

"Name."

"Huh?"

"Tell me his name", Tom hissed, his nostrils flaring. You stepped closer to him, noses almost brushing.

"And why would I do that?", you raised your brows, your voice turning into a mocking laugh, "Do you think I would betray him... for you?"

The sudden feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward made you almost lose your balance and you grabbed his shoulder in reflex to keep you from falling on top of him. Nesting his head in the curve between your neck and shoulder, Tom pressed his lips next to your ear before muttering:

"You, my dear, are a liar", his teeth grazed the end of your earlobe, "And a very bad one."

Your whole body froze and you tried to push yourself away from him, but his arms were holding you firmly in place. Suddenly all the confidence you have displayed in his presence so far melted under the warmth of his touch, and you were left only with the hope you could still lie your way out of this situation.

"I am not lying", you protested with a quickening breath.

Tom lifted his head from your shoulder and rested his forehead on yours instead. His eyes stared deep into your own and his warm breath on your face made your whole body involuntarily tremble.

"I have already told you I am not a fool", one of his hands slid from your waist towards your arm and then hand, where you were still clutching the diadem. His fingers wrapped around it and pulled it out of your grasp with ease. Without looking at it, he placed it on the desk behind his back, before his hand found its way to the top of your head.

"I know you better than you know yourself, my dear", he muttered, his hand gently stroking your hair, "And I know there is no room in your heart for anyone but me. You would not be here otherwise."

He pulled back enough to be able to take a better look at your face. His gaze fell from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

"You are mine. Always were, always will be."

A loud whine escaped your throat before it was swallowed by Tom's mouth on yours. His plump lips were chapped, a result of hours of his teeth sinking into them, trying to hold back all the snarky remarks he had for his fellow colleagues. The rough feeling made your knees buckle and you closed your eyes, relaxing fully in his arms.

Without breaking the kiss, he turned you around and with a swift move of his hand, pushed the diadem and a few books out of the way, before laying you on the cold surface. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging the soft curls.

A low growl left his lips and he lifted his lips from yours, a trail of saliva connecting them, before it was broken by his fingers cupping your chin.

"This is what you wanted, is it not?", his voice was suddenly deeper and darker, "For me to take you on the same desk I once you graded you."

His words made a loud moan to escape you and your back arched up, seeking nothing more than to be close to him. With a low chuckle, he pressed his palm between your breasts, pushing you flat on the furniture beneath you. You opened your mouth to complain but were quickly silenced once he pushed his index and middle fingers in your mouth, almost making you choke. Fixating your gaze on his, you closed your lips around them and started to suck, making sure to flatten your tongue in the process.

The image before your eyes was something you had dreamt of countless times before - Tom, with his messy curls and parted lips, panting while the fingers of his free hand were skilfully unbuttoning his vest. You did not waste any time in helping him, focusing on shakingly unbuttoning his belt.

"So impatient", he clicked his tongue, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth, so could remove his shirt. Once his torso was in full view, you did not hesitate even a second before you lifted yourself in a sitting position and attached your lips to his neck. Nibbling and sucking the smooth skin, you started to nibble and suck your way down to his chest. His head fell back and he closed his eyes, his muscles relaxing under you.

Tom Riddle may not be a man who was capable of love, but he was a man after all. And it would be a lie to say he has never thought of you in a more... erotic way. You have always been so obedient and good, doing everything for him without any hesitation. He has always found that incredibly attractive, but not enough for him to act on his desires.

Now, however, the sight of you has ignited some primal urges within him that he never felt before. Maybe it was the few drinks he had consumed prior at the gathering or maybe it was the idea of the the crazy lengths you were willing to go in order to get back to him...

Tom Riddle would probably never know the reason for him giving up control for the first time in his life. To you, nonetheless.

His mind came back to reality when he felt you pushing him on his chair and nestling yourself between his legs. Looking up at him, you tugged his pants and boxers down, letting his erection free. You let your index finger gently caress the length of it, making it twitch. A small giggle left your lips before you repeated the gesture.

"Stop teasing me", the man groaned, and his palm rested behind your head in order to push you towards his member, but you swiftly moved to the side dodging it. You squinted your eyes, moving your hands to his thighs and digging your nails into them.

"You", the word was hissed through your teeth, "are in no position to order me around."

Tom scoffed and was about to argue when your mouth unexpectedly wrapped around the head of his penis, twirling your tongue around it. He let out a choked gasp and he tried to put his hand on your head again before you smacked it away. Swallowing his pride, he rested both of his arms on the side of his chair, bucking his hip forward.

Carefully watching his reaction you wrapped your hand around him, slowly moving it down and back up again, following the movement of your mouth. The feeling of him filling your mouth was causing some saliva to start dripping your chin, but rather than pulling away, you pushed him further into your mouth till your nose was buried in his dark pubic hair. The feeling of his swollen head hitting the back of your throat made you gag, causing Tom to groan in pleasure.

"Fuck this", he muttered, before grabbing you by your hair and pulling your head up, before pressing it down again. His hips buckled in harmony with your head, making sure you were taking all of him. His dick was now coated in your saliva, making it glisten in the dim light. You closed your eyes, the lack of oxygen making them sting. The rapid pace with which he was moving was making it hard for you to breathe through your nose and you tried giving him a warning slap on his leg, which he purposefully ignored. Instead, he moved his other hand towards your chin and held your head still, while he continued to thrust his hips up and down. Sloppy wet noises filled his office, being interrupted only by his heavy breathing.

Your thighs clenched together in a weak attempt to relieve the burning ache between your legs. The way he was using your mouth to satisfy himself was making your underwear damp, yet you knew better than to touch yourself yet. After so many sleepless nights during which you tried to relieve yourself, imagining how would it feel to taste him, you wanted to focus all your attention only on him.

Feeling he was close, Tom finally pulled your head back and examined your face. Both saliva and tears were smeared all over your chin and your cheeks were flushed in rosy colour.

"What a pretty sight you are, my dear", he smiles, wiping some of it with his thumb. You licked your lips, getting up on your feet.

"And you are such a smooth talker", your face leaner just inches from his, "I wonder if you are as good with the action as you are with words."

Taking this as a challenge, he stood up and pushed you back onto the desk, before lifting your skirt. His fingers hooked under the elastic bands of your panties and with one tug they snapped, leaving you completely exposed in front of him.

Tom gulped, burning the image of your waiting arousal into his mind. His fingers made their way towards your slit, gathering the wetness before easily sliding his middle finger in. You moaned at the contact, fluttering your eyes closed. He pumped his fingers a few times, his eyes carefully observing your facial expression before he slid it out. You whined at the loss of contact, opening your eyelids only to find him smirking down at you.

"Do you really think you deserve me wasting time on your pleasure?"

"Fuck you!", you snapped, resulting in him grabbing your neck and squeezing so hard, an airy cough left your lips.

"Such a dirty mouth", he lifted your face up, his jaw clenching, "but such a weak mind. Look at the pathetic mess you are..."

Your lips parted to offer a snarky response, but your mind quickly went blank the moment he slid fully into you. Arching your back, your hands found their way around his shoulders, while his rested on both sides of your head.

Tom did not waste any time in developing a quick pace, which made you roll your eyes back. With each thrust the head of his cock was brushing against your cervix, making your whole vision white. His left hand moved towards one of your breasts, pinching and twisting the oversensitive nipple between his fingers. His other hand made his way to your pussy, where his thumb started to draw sloppy circles over your clit.

Never in your life have you felt such pleasure in your life. Of course, you had previous lovers during the past two years while trying to get Tom out of your mind, but nothing compared to this. Curling your toes, you lifted both of your legs and rested them on his shoulder.

Both of you groaned in unison when you felt him going even deeper than before. His upper body collapsed on top of yours, his lips immediately latching onto your other nipple. Still gripping his shoulders, you dragged your nails down his back, leaving angry red marks behind.

The knot in your stomach started to tighten and your moans became louder and louder. Moving your hips so you can meet Tom's thrusts, you looked at his face, only to find him staring back with eyes clouded with desire. His fingers were now working faster on your sensitive bud and you let out a shaky breath: "Tom, I...", you could not finish your sentence, your vocabulary suddenly consisting only of his name.

"Shhh", he whispered, his hand moving from your breast to your cheek. He gently stroked it with his thumb and suddenly you saw in front of you the same Tom that charmed you years ago, "I've got you."

His words were enough to cause the knot to snap and your whole body went rigid, squeezing and pulsating around him. A few harsh trusts and Tom suddenly tensed on top of you, as he painted your insides white. You both held onto each other, fingers digging into soft flesh, as you melted into your shared euphoria.

It was not romantic.

It was primal. Rough. Dirty.

It was everything you have imagined.

Finally relaxing on top of you, Tom buried his head in your shoulder, trying his best to calm his breathing down. You laid under him, crushed under his weight, yet enjoying every second of the contact he allowed you to have.

Against your better judgment, you lifted your hand and started to gently stroke his hair. Against his better judgment, he allowed you to and closed his eyes in the process.

Tired from the long day and your office activity, Tom lifted you in his arms, his now soft member slipping out of you and he sat back on his chair, adjusting the backrest so you can both take a more comfortable position.

You lifted yourself from his chest and raised your eyebrow, but bit back your tongue the moment your gaze crossed his stern one, warning you not to voice whatever you had in your mind. Letting out a small chuckle, you shook your head and laid it back down on his skin.

There was an urge burning inside of you to mock him about showing gentleness, but deep down you knew this was your only chance to enjoy it. So you closed your eyes and relaxed, finally being able to fall asleep without the haunting dreams of what could've been.

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

The sunlight was painting the whole room in a beautiful gold colour and Tom let out a low groan when he felt it hitting his face. His hand made its way over his eyes, shielding them from the light, while his mind slowly started to become aware of his surroundings. The uncomfortable chair was making all of his muscles ache and he immediately regretted not gathering the energy last night to make his way back to his room. The chill air coming from the window has not helped too, especially when we was only partly covered and-

Tom's eyes shot open looking down at his body and finding his suit jacket thrown over his waist and private parts. You, however, were not to be found. Not on top of him, not on the desk, nowhere in the room.

He immediately stood up, grabbing his pants from the floor and furiously putting them on, while breathing heavily. His gaze fell on the stack of books he pushed from his desk last night and he immediately fell on his knees, scanning the floor around him.

"No, no, no", he hissed under his breath, pushing his hair out of his eyes, "That little serpent!"

Not only you have left, but you also have taken the diadem with you. No matter how much he searched for it, it was definitely not here.

You tricked him.

Getting up back to his feet, Tom kicked one of the books on the floor, before slamming his hands on his desk. His breathing was hard and he could feel his blood boiling in his veins. Suddenly, his attention was caught by a small parchment of paper placed next to his quill. Unfolding it, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second.

"My dear Tom,

Thank you for our wonderful night together. I did not want to leave you so early, but I had to be out of the castle before everyone else woke up. To be truthful with you, I am not going to be your new assistant. But your already knew that, so I guess it is not shocking news. I sneaked it yesterday when all of the teachers were having a party (or what you call a gathering, ha!). Neither do I have a new lord. You already knew that as well.

Do not stress about the diadem, as it is safe with me - if there is one thing I learned from you is that I need to take good care of horcruxes once they are made. I know it was probably foolish of me to bring it to you last night, as it does hold a part of my soul, but I promise that from now on I will take better care of it.

Without doubt your paths shall cross again. Remember Tom: You are mine. Always were, always will be.

Love, y/n

P.S. - I hope you do not mind that I helped myself by getting your keys from your jacket and getting a shower in your room. Also, I think you need to follow your own advice and start putting your objects away. I found your diary resting on your bedside table, so I had to take it with me. Do not worry - I promise I will keep it safe...

for now."

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

CC artwork: Nasan Hardcastle

[jamneuromain]

Stalker Lady pt. 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (You)

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warning: Mean!Simon Riley, Voice (PORN) actor!Simon Riley, patron!reader, neighbor!AU, description of audio porn and stalking behavior. bad language word people we're talking about audio porn here

Summary: You meet Simon unexpectedly. Unfortunately, he thinks you are a stalker.

A/N: This fic is my rehab-going-back-into-writing fic. And it's the first time I'm writing for "Ghost" I've honestly never played COD. But here's my idea of the scary (not really lol) simon ghost riley :3

After enduring your rented noisy flat for nearly six months, the construction of your new house is finally completed, which is a total relief. You now have a house of your own.

It’s a small place in the suburbs, with a handful of neighbors on the same block, and a decent lawn that you need not pay too much attention to besides mowing occasionally. More importantly, the quietness.

You’ve settled for this house because of the friendly neighbors and the quietness around the place. Most houses are properly wrapped up in thick walls and heavy planks so no noises would escape. The only sounds that constantly appear from outside of the window are the birds chirping and the laughs and talks from family and friends.

This.

This is the perfect place for you.

You met the Pinewood Residential Community Committee (Really? A community committee? You could be in tears) the day you moved in. A group of five that consisted of three of the actual committee and two of your neighbors. The house to your right lives a delightful family whose wife Sarah came to visit and brought you homemade cookies. The house to your left harbors a tall silent man called Simon who has dark circles under his eyes (You doubt the house was enough for him because he looked like a Tall-nut that could poke through the roof). Most of the time he just nodded to whatever the rest of them were chatting about. He gave you a brand-new Bluetooth speaker about the size of your palm, saying that it might come in handy if you want to play music without carrying your phone around the house.

You were grateful.

For the committee. For the friendly neighbors. For the speaker, even.

Until the day you decide to try this speaker out.

Present day, today, this very hour, you have been fighting with this unruly speaker.

You have pushed buttons. Connecting it to the charger and unplugged it twice. Flipped the on/off switch. Turned the volume thingy at the top to the maximum. Turned up the phone volume, too.

Nothing.

No sound coming out.

While your phone mocks at you by showing you that you have already connected it and no sound is coming out.

You googled, searched, and tried reading the instructions, but nothing helped.

You sigh. Snatch the speaker and the small piece of paper with instructions and head to your neighbor’s place.

Simon is just finishing up his work for today.

It’s not a job, per se, but trades his time and patience for some of the allowances.

Actually, scratch that, he has been making more from this not-job job than spending time in the military, which says something.

He has been considering making this job a little permanent, aside from his part-time work to deliver posts and mails.

He starts the day early, driving his van to the local post office, loading the bunch of stuff onto his backseat, and finishing driving around the blocks at around 1 pm. Works a little on his side job, goes to bed at 9 or 10, simple as that.

He leaves the recording room of his house, only pausing his steps to the showers when he hears something coming from his living room…?

He heads back to the recording room, making sure his laptop is turned off, his phone is on airplane mode (which has stayed that way for a while, he must add, to prevent it from interrupting his recording), and his iPad certainly has not connected to his Bluetooth. Which is … odd?

Because why is one of his recordings playing on his Bluetooth speaker?

Simon winces at his own grunts and moans from the speaker. He’s not particularly proud of it, okay, that he is a member of an audio porn production team. He takes time recording himself reading various scripts of monologues that end up taking the imaginative figure of a woman to bed.

Yes, he records himself twice a week.

Yes, he makes male-for-female porn.

Yes, he never shows his face and has a silly stage name called “Ghost”.

Yes, he does (very occasionally) custom-made fan audio for those generous patrons.

Yes, this is a custom-made audio playing on his Bluetooth – wait what?

A few soft knocks land on his door before he can comprehend what mystical force is toying with his speaker.

“Brilliant.” He grumbles to himself under his breath, “Fucking brilliant.”

Now he has another thing to tend to besides figuring out his haunted speaker.

He turns the volume down, shoving the small gadget into the sofa cushions before it can be haunted again.

Opening the door.

And there you are.

“Oh! Um, hi!” You are stepping down the porch, thinking that he must be busy, but the noise of the locks startles you a little, turn around to see your neighbor Simon, “Hi, I live next door. Uh, I moved here about a week ago?”

Cute.

He thinks to himself.

Technically, his first impression was supposed to be a week ago when he visited your place for the first time, but he missed his nap time so the thirty minutes spent there consisted of him keeping himself awake – hardly, more like keeping his head straight and eyes open, which he failed, for at least a dozen times or so.

Rude. He knows. But he is not the kind of social butterfly either, so you kinda get what you deserve by moving in next to him.

“Yeah.” He grunts, his mind still on the fucking Bluetooth, “Wha’d you need, luv?”

“I think this speaker is … I don’t know what’s wrong with it, it just … no sound coming out of it.” You chew on your lower lip sheepishly, “Would you mind helping out, please?”

“Tried to dial the volume on your phone louder?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, I did, I-” You fumble with your phone, giving him a moment to look at the speaker under your arm.

One glance at the Bluetooth speaker in your hand, same brand, same model, but different color, connects the dots for Simon in his mind.

It is obvious as daylight that you accidentally connected to his speaker.

“I’ll try turn it up-” You push the buttons on the side of your phone, turning the volume up to the loudest.

And a guttural groan comes from his couch.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweet’art.” His couch moans loudly, “You’re killin’ me with that sweet cunny-”

Simon acts quickly, yanks you inside the house by the arm, and slams the door shut.

“That’s my speaker.” He says, quietly.

Your stupid fingers finally manage to turn the volume down. You completely forgot about the audio playing on your phone – your favorite audio, the one you have listened to and cummed to for at least a handful of times. Your face instantly goes aflame. You were planning some quality time with your toy, but not this! You are not connecting to your neighbor’s speaker and standing at his doorstep!

The deadly silence is eating you up.

“Um. Guess it’s not … wrong?” You let out a dry chuckle, your mind a puddle of jellyfish that zaps your neurons into firing the wrong sparks, “I’ll, um, go upstairs – my home, my place, I mean. Thank you for tonight.” Your face scrunches together out of sheer embarrassment.

His iron grasp on your arm is unwavering.

He has some patrons online, but the fact that you are one of them and live next door is … a bit too much of a coincidence.

“You a stalker or wha’?” He growls at you. His eyes flash a dangerous glint as he recalls what had happened to one of his friends, John, with the stage name “Soap”. Soap works with Simon in the small group of audio porn production called “Team 141”. Soap was careless about his whereabouts, leading to a crazy woman piecing together information and ambushing him when he gets home from his day job.

“Wha- what?” You sound completely baffled. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, sweet’art. Doesn’t work like ‘at.” Simon eyes at the now-silent speaker on his couch, before returning his gaze to your startled expression, which is indeed fright, but for different reasons than he’d think of – the fear of being found that you stalked to his house. “Peachy? Peach? ‘s that your Discord name? Coz this is a specialized piece, custom-made. An’ I made it myself.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. Your Discord name is indeed, Peachyyy,with two extra Y, and it hits you that this man you are confronting, who is confronting you, might be the one who sent this audio as a special gift to you, their patron.

Every patron for the Team 141 could designate a voice actor for their custom-made audio. When you were notified that you could also participate in deciding the actor of the audio, without a second to stop and think, you chose your favorite one of “Team 141”.

“Ghost”.

Simon “Ghost” Riley let out a cold smirk. He believes he has this all figured out.

“I won’t report you. Not yet. But if I find you ten feet within my vicin’ty,” His teeth bared, sharp canines ready to rip something apart, throat rumbling like a true animal, “I’ll get your pretty arse locked up and thrown into jail. Run along now, stalker lady.”

Monster! You shriek. Or perhaps that’s a pitiful whimper under his massive shadow, and flee from his grasp.

Part 2

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Seams drabble: Patch

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: None

Summary: Ellie finds a Pride-themed sew on patch that leads to revelations.

Warnings: Pure fluff and love for this girl, some angst, coming out, total disregard of canon because I don't know how it goes in the game.

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: This idea struck me out of the blue many months ago, and I was waiting for 'the right place' in the series, until I mentioned it to a dear friend in passing conversation and then I just started writing it. Very lightly edited. Set at unspecified time frame after Part IV.

Ellie hums to herself from her spot in a cosy corner of the Outfitters, one watchful eye on the door. It’s an uncharacteristically slow Saturday, but she’s not complaining - she has her hands full.

A big canvas sack lies empty on the floor, its contents strewn haphazardly all over the wooden floor. The mess drives you up the wall, but you know better than to question her (very questionable) methods, so you’re ensconced in the safety of your studio while she sorts through the clothes and odds and ends that the patrollers brought back from their most recent outing.

Though infrequent - most settlements around Jackson have been painstakingly pilfered for anything useful over the years - it’s her favourite duty at the shop. Lucy is looser with the rules, but sometimes, you let Ellie keep little knick knacks that won’t sell.

The teenager goes through the pile thoroughly. Shirts go in one stack, jeans in another, followed by shoes, hats and scarves. Turning to the heap of smaller loose trinkets, she separates mismatched buttons, safety pins, shoelaces and zippers (as Maria always says, every little help), when something colourful piques her attention.

Plucking the piece of fabric out of the jumble, Ellie recognises it as a decorative patch that she’s seen sewn onto bags and shirts. It’s the size of her palm, cut in the shape of a rainbow, the colours still bright. Over the arches, bold white text outlined in black spells out NYC PRIDE 2003.

Tucking it into her pocket for now, she quickly finishes the rest of the sorting. Clothes go into the bin to be collected by the laundry, shoes for the cobbler’s, and accessories into a box to be priced and shelved.

Ambling into the back of the shop where you’re busy hemming a pair of jeans, Ellie plops into one of the rolling chairs, straddling the back of it, and the wheels screech as she careens across the floor to your sewing station.

Your lips quirk as you look up briefly at her. ‘Find anything interesting?’

‘Just this,’ she replies, flashing you the patch and reading aloud, ‘NYC Pride 2003. What does that mean?’

‘There used to be a big pride parade for the LGBT community every year in New York City,’ you explain. ‘They used to close down the streets and everything for it, it was a huge event.’

Ellie blinks, your answer taking her by surprise. She clears her throat, a distant buzzing at the back of her head as she turns the patch over pensively in her hand. ‘What - do you know what it was like?’

‘I’ve never been to one, but it always looked incredible. People used to line the streets in support, and everyone dressed up. There’d be rainbow flags everywhere, floats, dancing, music, and of course, it was an important way for the community to highlight and push for LGBT rights.’

‘You mean -’ she pauses, the unfamiliar feeling of stumbling over her words making her hands sweat. ‘You mean, people would just be out in public, like, being themselves?’

‘More than that - they were celebrating themselves.’

Ellie doesn’t realise she’s fallen quiet until you speak, ‘You can keep it if you want.’

Her head snaps up, disoriented. ‘Keep what?’

‘That.’ You nod towards the patch she’s clinging onto so tightly that her knuckles have gone white.

Panic prickles the back of her neck, an embarrassed heat suddenly making her want to pull at the collar of her flannel. But then you shrug and say, almost flippantly, ‘It’s pretty.’

‘Yes,’ she blurts out in hasty agreement, letting out a breath she’s been unconsciously holding. ‘It’s very pretty.’

Ellie is relieved when you turn back to the sewing machine, leaving her to retrace her steps to the front of the shop. The patch sits on the counter, where she leaves it, as she goes about her business for the rest of her shift.

Her eyes travel to the rainbow, and she thinks of how she wasn’t like the other girls at school, who fawned over dogeared photos of singers and actors long dead. She thinks of how she’s always known she’s different, but didn’t have the vocabulary to express it.

She thinks of Riley.

Riley.

For Riley.

When half three rolls around, you spot the teenager lingering by the studio doorway out of the corner of your eye, her backpack dangling from her fingers. Any other Saturday, you’d be lucky to catch the blurry shape of her shadow when she gallops out of the shop, throwing a see ya over her shoulder.

Thrown by her silence, you prompt, ‘Yes, Ellie?’

Scruffing the tips of her well-worn sneakers on the floorboards, she bites her lip in an atypical display of hesitance. ‘Pin, could you help me sew the patch onto my backpack? Please?’

You smile, eyes soft. ‘I’d love to. C’mon.’

‘You don’t have to do it now,’ she protests, feigning nonchalance, but her twitchy hands give her away. ‘Like, whatever, it’s no big deal.’

Wanting to put her at ease, you shrug. ‘No time like the present. Where do you want it?’

Putting her bag on your work surface, she points. ‘Guess right here under the wings.’

‘Perfect. Can you unzip the bag for me?’

You have Ellie hold the rainbow exactly where she wants it while you thread the needle, and you start sewing it in by hand, stitch by tidy stitch. It barely takes a couple of minutes, but time is of the essence - you haven’t heard the girl take a single breath of air since the anchor stitch.

Snipping off the thread with a flourish and giving it a once over, you grin. ‘There, all done.’

Ellie ducks her head, quiet as she takes the bag from your hands, running a thumb over the arches of the rainbow. Without a word, she suddenly throws her arms around you, hugging you tight.

‘Thanks, Pin,’ she mumbles into your hair.

Your heart swells, and you squeeze her back even tighter. ‘Anything for you, kiddo.’

On Monday morning, Ellie hovers in the hallway outside the kitchen, observing.

Joel is at the table, oblivious with his back to the door, her breakfast of two fried eggs over and easy and toast waiting at her usual spot at the table. Taking a deep breath, she bites the bullet and walks in, backpack in her hand.

‘Mornin’,’ grunts Joel, almost done with his own eggs, sunny side up.

‘Morning,’ she parrots back as she makes herself comfortable.

She usually just dumps her bag on the floor, but today, she pulls out the chair next to her and drops it into the seat. The unusual movement catches Joel’s eye, and he takes a good long look at the backpack.

Eventually, he points vaguely in what she assumes is the direction of the rainbow patch, and says, ‘That looks new.’

‘Yup, Pin helped me sew it on.’

He purses his lips, asking around a mouthful of egg. ‘You know what Pride is?’

She swallows thickly, and it takes a beat to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. ‘Yeah, Pin told me.’

He nods, then turns his attention back to his plate with no fanfare.

Not entirely sure if he caught the nuance but her mind too in knots to care, Ellie picks up her fork and doesn’t think twice when he gets up to put his dish in the sink.

She nearly chokes on eggs when strong arms close around her shoulders in a vice-like grip, scratchy beard on her temple, Joel’s voice so thick that it makes her think if she turns around, she’ll see tears in his eyes.

‘Proud of you, baby girl.’

Later that afternoon, Joel finds you alone in the shop, restocking the women’s outerwear rack.

You toss him a smile over your shoulder. ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’

‘Lucy ‘round?’ he asks.

‘When is she ever?’ you quip with no bite.

Three steps and he’s spun you around by the waist, soft lips latching onto yours in a sweet kiss with just a hint of heated aftertaste that has you swaying on your feet when he pulls back.

A breathless laugh bubbles in your throat as you palm his whiskered jawline. ‘Why, thank you for that, Mr. Miller.’

The corners of his eyes crinkle, and he brushes his nose tenderly against your cheek. ‘No, thank you, sweetheart.’

Notes: I hope I wrote Ellie's coming out as sensitively as I hoped to. As I mentioned, I have no idea how or if she comes out in the game, but despite being such a chatty teenager, I think she'd find it difficult to broach the subject with Joel in conversation. For me, this was a fun way of weaving in her part-time job at the Outfitters and Pin into her coming out story that stays true to Ellie's character. I hope you enjoyed this - comments and reblogs appreciated as always!

P.S. I am not 'back' back, so I don't know when I will next update Seams. Thank you for your patience while I try to navigate my way back to some semblence of writing regularly, whenever that may be.

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the dividers ❤️

[sturniozo]

Savage Love

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

Summary: After a night out with her friends, Y/n wakes up in a hotel bed with a handsome stranger with no memory of the night before. Pieceing together what she can, she finds the man she woke up with wasn’t just some stranger, but the most powerful man in New York.

A/N: I’m basing all of my mafia knowledge on watching the god father when I was six and that one episode of community with the chicken fingers. Other than that I have no clue how mafia works so this might not be as good as you hope but hey I tried. Tell me if you want me to continue this though! I had fun writing it!

Masterlist

I never go out with my friends and I felt bad about it for a long time. But today, Emma convinced me to go dancing with her at a club in New York. I’ve been in the city many times, as I live just outside of it, in a small apartment above a bookshop. But the city of New York still terrifies me, especially at night. There’s a rumor of a secret organization that controls just about everything in the city, and if you cross the man at the top then you’re done for.

Of course, these are just rumors and haven’t actually been proven. I have nothing to fear, right?

Now I’m sitting in front of Emma’s vanity mirror getting ready as she does my hair.

“Oh you should totally wear it down! Curl it a bit, let it hang over your shoulders. You might hook up tonight, you never know.” Emma teases as she messes with my hair. I finish curling my lashes and then turn to her.

“I don’t think I’ll hook up at all. I’m just not the type.” I shrug and stand up, switching places with Emma as she sits in front of her vanity mirror to do her own makeup.

“Well, I am the type.” She says as she starts with contour. I walk into the bathroom and plug in the curling iron to heat it up.

“You can hook up with any guy you want.” I say to Emma. “Just make sure he wraps it. I don’t want to be an aunt so soon.” I laugh.

Emma and I have been best friends since fourth grade. She’s my polar opposite, although we have the same dreams. We’re both journalists writing for a small newspaper outlet right outside of New York.

Emma’s the type to do things we’re doing now almost every day. She always tells me about all the big parties and exclusive events and venues she’s attended. She’s talk to, and slept with, many of the biggest people in multiple industries to get information for her articles.

I take a different approach. My stories come from the smaller people. The homeless and the struggling. I try to bring attention to the lower class of America.

I bet you can guess whose stories get published. Hence why I live in a small apartment above a bookshop, and Emma has a penthouse.

“God, I know. I can’t handle having a baby now. I’m only 20 for Pete’s sake!” Emma laughs and sets down her makeup brush. She turns to me and says “But I need to sleep with someone big and important tonight. I’m dying here, I haven had a story published in almost two weeks!”

I sigh. Two weeks is nothing. Try five months. I’m basically just a consultant at this point.

Emma turns back to the mirror to finish her makeup. I check the curling iron and it’s nice and hot, so I begin to curl the ends of my hair. Just a little curly at the edge.

Emma gets up from the mirror and starts shutting off lights and electronics around her penthouse. I unplug the curling iron and walk into the front room to put on my shoes and grab my purse. Emma shut off the last light and we walk out of the penthouse. She locks the door and we get into the elevator, going down to the front desk.

Emma has an Uber waiting for us. The great thing about Emma is, no matter how much more she has than me, she always gives and never asks for any in return. It’s always been this way. She’s the sweetest friend I’ve ever had. She’s also the most ruthless journalist I’ve ever met.

We get into the Uber and the driver starts for the city. It’s a long drive, one that me and Emma use to our advantage and try to find out who’s the most important person attending the party.

“Oh my god!” Emma says after a long silence of us just looking at our phones.

“What is it, who will be there?” I ask frantically.

“Matt Sturniolo!”

I look at her, confused. “Who’s that?”

“Who’s that? WHO’S THAT? Matt Sturniolo is only the most powerful guy in New York!”

“That can’t be true, how come I’ve never heard of him?”

“Because you focus on who can help the lower class. He can’t help them, it’s not in his power.”

“Then he doesn’t have much power.”

“Oh, he has power. He has all the power. It’s his rumor that he’s the one who controls all the important somebody’s in New York. I gotta make it my mission to sleep with him. God, I bet he’s good in bed.” She says to herself.

I let out a laugh. “What story do you plan together by sleeping with him?”

“I want to know if the rumor is true, duh!” She laughs and lightly hits my shoulder.

We arrive at the venue. It’s large and the music is blaring. We step out of the car and I lean to Emma and say loudly so she can hear me over the music “The most powerful man in New York is gonna be here?” I laugh. “This doesn’t look like a scene you’d catch someone so important in.”

“Trust me, he’ll be here. Steph said so, and she’s always right!” Emma says back. She takes my hand and drags me through the line, showing the bouncer a VIP pass for both her and I. They let us in and Emma immediately drags me to the bar.

“Two vodka martinis!” She says to the bartender. The bartender nods and begins our drinks. I turn around to look at all the people dancing. Men in half dressed suits grinding on women in the shortest dresses. This is what Emma does every day? I understand the appeal, but the loud music and the flashing lights just aren’t for me.

We get our drinks and Emma takes me to a table to sit down at. “So what do we do now?” I ask.

“We mingle!” She shouts and raises her hands in the air.

The rest of the night that I can still remember was filled with drinking and Emma talking to numerous people, always asking about the guy who’s name I can no longer remember due to my copious consumption of alcohol. The last thing I remember was talking to a tall, handsome, dark haired man with beautiful light blue eyes.

~

I awake with a pounding headache. I raise my head from my pillow and slowly open my eyes, groaning from the pain. I look around and realize, this is not my bedroom. This is not Emma’s bedroom. I have no clue where I am. I scan the room and my eyes fall on a strange man sitting on the couch. I gasp and he looks up at me.

“Good, you’re awake. I was wondering if I’d have to drop you at the emergency room.” He laughs to himself.

I sit up fully in the bed. “Who are you? Where am I?” I ask frantically.

“My names Matt, and-“ I stop him

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine just-“

“Oh god what happened?”

“Nothing, I-“

“I was drunk!”

“I know, that’s why I-“

“Tell me I didn’t. We didn’t.”

“Would you let me fucking speak?” He yells. “I didn’t fucking touch you, okay? You were dancing on a table and your friend had gone home with some guy so I got you a hotel room. You could barely stand and you just passed out on the bed.” He finishes with a huff.

I stare up at him in shock. “So we didn’t”

“No. We didn’t.” He pauses. “But we could.” He says with a smirk.

A blush appears on my cheeks and my breath shakes “What?” I ask

“Well you’re an attractive girl, I wouldn’t mind it.” He laughs. “But I have a meeting in an hour, so it’ll have to be another time. Want my number while you think about it?” He asks and before I can answer he hands me a card. “I got an Uber waiting for you whenever you’re ready to go home, it’s already paid for. Just do whatever you need to before you leave.” He says, clearly insisting I shower and eat. “And tell the driver where you need to go. Don’t forget to call, doll face.” He says before leaving and closing the door behind him.

I look down at the card he had handed me.

‘Matt Sturniolo.’ With an address and phone number.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover (the one who came up with the idea for Mafia!Matt) @sturniolobessed

[ilys00ga]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ synopsis: where you meet him during your best friend's wedding. can a heart beat again after breaking to pieces?

➞ genre: best friend's brother!yoongi, actress!female reader, bookshop owner!yoongi, angst, kind of hurt/comfort, there's also some fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn.

➞ warnings: mentions of cheating, heartbreak, reader is going through some deep shit, failed past relationship, alcohol consumption (drink mindfully and responsibly (not me saying this when I don't even drink lmao)). this is PURE fiction!

➞ A/N: I wanna start by saying thank you to the one or two persons who requested another part of this fic. as I mentioned before, I had no intention or inspiration to write more of it, but I'm glad that yall forced me into coming up with this (jkjk). I don't KNOW how and what , but I WANT to write more parts of this. so, in the meantime, enjoy this and expect something to be posted in some few months lmao. I had to rewrite this a hundred times, I kind of don't wanna proofread it ever again 😭 so pls ignore any mistakes or questionable points (🙏🙏🙏!!!!!!). love <3

➞ tags: @viankiss + @parkjennykim + @acquiescence804

★ MASTERLIST.

Ethereal clouds blanketed the sky above the town, giving a gleam of light every now and then as they played a game of hide and seek with the sun. The crisp wind bit the skin of your face, carrying the scent of freshly wet concrete in every direction it went. the world was vivid in color around you and underneath your feet. As per always, nothing could beat the delight of walking down the street shortly after a round or two of rain.

as you make your way down the sidewalk, you reach a shopwindow displaying a collection of book goodness. The huge sign right at the top of the storefront read 'SNOOZE', and you wondered what kind of significance it carried for it to be the chosen name of the shop before you.

not wasting any more precious time, you decided to pay a visit and see if any book would call out your name as soon as it spots you, and lure you closer to fan its pages and listen to their story.

The first thing that welcomed you as soon as you walked into the place was a radiating warmth. the air was sweet-scented with a mix of wood, paper, new and old books, multiple perfumes and a mouth watering smell of both coffee and tea. It was almost too overwhelming, but the atmosphere soaked your heart with so much comfort almost immediately that it left you speechless.

The shop was on two floors. The first one was largely specious. Every wall was loaded up with books neatly lined up from top to bottom, and planted everywhere were tables presenting neatly organized books. Some people were scattered around, talking in hushed voices or just silently browsing. Others you could see chilling on the second floor, where a coffee bar was. It was not as spacious as the one underneath, but it was commodious enough for some extra small couches and chairs here and there.

you started walking around the lovely aisles, taking your time as you scanned through them. your finger ran down spines, and your nose inhaled the sweet, dearly loved smell of paper books in.

At the heart of your wandering, piano notes rode the air inside the shop, rushing as they slipped between shelves and making their way to your ears. it tugged a smile on your face, the smooth melody that sounded somewhat familiar, and you stalked its source with sheer curiosity.

There, when you finally made it, you found the man you met at your best friend’s wedding a couple of months earlier, seated on the piano bench, focused. Yoongi was his name. Yoongi, Soyoon’s older brother, who walked around with a box of UNO cards in his pocket. such a memorable person.

He looked slightly different than the last (fist and only) time you saw him, though. His hair was shorter, pushed back with a pair of sunglasses resting on his head. He also had sidecuts, and some ear piercings. totally different from the other day.

perhaps the "performance" went on for about two minutes more, u couldn't tell, but soon he had his hands clasped on his lap and smiled, satisfied. Before you could walk away, Yoongi turned and his eyes immediately fell on you. ‘oh’, he whispered as his eyes widened in surprise, and you cracked a faint smile.

"didn't expect to see you again." he spoke first, standing up and approaching you.

"Me neither. I was losing hope in playing another round of UNO with you again."

"Well, about that.." scratching the back of his head, he bit his lip sheepishly and confessed, "I kept a box in my pocket for days but then lost track and didn’t think we’d see each other again.."

"Too bad I can't beat you today.." you scrunched your nose teasingly.

"we can play another time?" he suggested, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark pants and relaxing his board shoulders.

"Sure, why not." you averted your eyes from his for a moment before meeting them again with a small smile.

Neither of you said anything for a short moment. it wasn't exactly awkward—or at least not from your end—in fact, something deep inside kept eagerly nagging, pushing you to say something and keep pulling strings of conversation from the man before you. so, you decided to comply and chat up with a hint of hesitance hanging from your teeth, "You work here?"

"oh, yeah. with a friend of mine." he answered, "is there anything specific you'd like?"

"no, I’d just discovered the place so I was walking around."

"I see… coffee? or do you prefer tea?"

"Coffee is good."

"Alright, come with me." He led you upstairs, told you to take a seat, and started preparing two cups for the both of you. Truthfully speaking, the cozyness of the store caught you off guard. really. It didn't feel like a shop, no, it felt like a private reading space in the comfort of your own house. For a moment, you felt sad as you wondered whether it was a painfully underrated place or not. It would've been such a shame if a place like that one wasn't appreciated enough, you thought.

a stretched out arm placed a cup in front of you. looking up, you were reminded of his presence once again.

"there you go," he said and sat across from you.

"How's the situation here?" you inquired, fingers hugging the warm mug between your hands.

"pretty good. We started recently, but it's already going well."

"I see." you nodded your head and took a sip, "Associating readers and bookworms all day must be nice."

"It's fun, sometimes." he hummed, "Are you one?"

"a bookworm? not really, no. I mean, I do love reading but I'm almost always busy filming so.."

"filming…?"

"oh, yeah. I'm an actress. a very not well known one, at that." you chuckled.

"That's cool." you could read elements of genuine interest off of his expression. you weren’t sure why, but it made you smile.

"you think so?" you asked.

"Of course I do. acting has always been interesting to me."

The two of you exchanged bits of comments and opinions for a few more minutes. it wasn't until you glanced down at your wrist watch that you realized it was time for you to leave.

"But you haven't picked a book yet," he insisted when you got up and bid your goodbyes.

"there were too many good ones, I really couldn't choose."

"Wait, come with me." you trailed along behind him as he headed downstairs, until he came to a halt and showed you a tall bookcase. written on the very top was a big “BLIND DATE WITH A BOOK”. Each one of the books in it was wrapped in the same gray paperwrap and had words scribbled on it. after a quick glance, you could tell that they were short anonymous letters.

"People drop mystery books here all the time. see if you find something that stirs your interest?" Yoongi proposed.

Doing as he said, you went through the notes, reading each one carefully, until one grabbed your attention.

“for the mourning soul,

harried and frayed at the edges,

this is a hug from me to you.”

It read.

“Good choice.” somewhere to your left, you could hear Yoongi softly muttering.

"baby, please listen to me!" he pleaded, hand tightening around your arm to prevent you from walking away.

"What more do you have to say? I saw everything with my own eyes!" your voice cracked as you held a sob in, trying so hard to hold yourself together and not break down in front of the man that just broke your heart with no care.

"it's not what it looks like! I love you, why'd you think I would lie to you?!"

and all of a sudden, every word known to man vanished from the top of your tongue. your brain went blank, your face frozen. all you could muster was a faint "...you.."

“Cut!” the director’s voice rang out and sliced its way through the scene.

Everyone on set looked at you with knitted brows as he walked up to you, pulling you aside. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, mentally preparing yourself for whatever remark he was intending to deliver your way.

“__, we’ve done intense scenes like this one before. I know you can do better.” he crossed his arms, eyebrows inching closer to each other as he spoke.

“I'm sorry, sir. it's just so ha-"

“How hard can it be to express and demystify being cheated on? have you never been cheated on before? just conjure that picture up, then translate and convey it. it’s not that hard.” he rolled his eyes and instructed with a sharp tone. it made your stomach twist again and you felt sick, almost as though those pair of strict eyes grew an arm and bunched you right in the chest, hence your aching bottom lip as you chewed at it and looked down at your feet.

and with a timid voice, you answered, “I know, I'm sorry, I will try my best.”

“right.” was all he muttered before he walked away, announcing a ten minutes long break to the whole crew.

it took everything within you not to walk up to him and scream at his face until your throat bled and burned with an old rage. you really wanted to do that, but you didn’t. you couldn't. so you just stood there and watched the room move like nothing had been said.

A guy walked in. He hastened to reach the director and whispered something in his ear. another guy came up and handed you a cup of coffee. you thanked him and put your mind to the drink, savoring its bitterness as it washed every corner of your mouth.

some minutes later, your phone beeped with an incoming message:

from Saera <3: There’s something i think you should know. Let's meet up when you’re done.

Planning it all step by step was what the universe had done. the director suddenly called it a wrap, and the room was moving quicker than before.

“Here’s your bottle, miss.” a blond bartender said with a sweet grin on his face. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a necklace sitting comfortably between the partially exposed pecks of his chest—a sight you were sure you didn’t see a few minutes ago since the first few buttons of his shirt were definitely not unbuttoned.

You muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ and opened the bottle of your favorite alcoholic drink, filling the empty glass you were clutching with the other hand and taking a decent sip. it burnt as it washed down the walls of your throat, to your chest and spread all over your system.

“Oof, I really needed that.” hissing, you threw your head backward.

Over the past couple of months, that bar came to be a comfort zone for you. when the emotions you tenderly carried in the palms of your hands overflowed and raced down your arms, reaching your elbows to then drip like heavy raindrops by your feet on the floor, you rushed your way to this pub to pat it dry.

Maybe it was the coziness of its vintage interior decor presented to the visiting eye that pulled you in. or the quiet atmosphere that lured every presence that steps into the place with curious eyes, welcoming it with a warm embrace and a gentle smile. or the hushed voices of customers spending their time in various of ways and feelings, one sitting alone and sipping on a huge glass of beer with a grim face, another sitting lifelessly with barely opened eyes and a bunch of empty glasses stacked up on the table before them, a couple with tinted cheeks sharing whispered love between each other and some elderly people just hanging out here and there.

The cocky bartender was somehow always on shift whenever you showed up. He seemed to love shamelessly hitting on you with that large smile of his, but Instead of paying him any attention, you fix your eyes on the stacked up bottles and glasses behind him, shining with reflections of soft yellow, and politely smile back every single time. That didn't seem to wind him up, though.

A thick steam of thoughts fogged your mind up as you sat on one of the high red stools lined up at the counter, facing the room with your back and consuming one glass after another.

A soft knock on the wooden counter to your right pulled you out of your wandering thoughts. your back stiffened and your head snapped up. Then you saw him, once again, Yoongi smiling down at you, and he ever so softly said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He didn't have his sunglasses above his head, you noticed. his fringe fell on his forehead, and he didn't have the piercings on, you noticed that too. Amber light bulbs beamed gold on his pale skin, going perfectly right with the black silk dress shirt he was wearing.

"Are you stalking me?" you said with a thick, slurred voice.

he tilted his head, still smiling, and pointed, "this bar is two blacks away from the bookshop. I like to come here often."

you didn't say anything further—maybe it was just the alcohol, or maybe it was something you couldn't confidently put your finger on, but there was a voice that kept praising his face in the back of your head and you just sat there, listening, observing, red-cheeked, droopy-eyed, motionless.

Yoongi nodded towards the seat right next to yours and muttered, “can i?”

"o-of course!" you spat an answer out, pressing your eyes shut and facing away from him. maybe drinking too much wasn't the best idea that night. or maybe it was that you should've paid more attention and recognized the very familiar street beforehand? either way, you felt too unstable to function in front of another human being at that moment.

"You look troubled." was the first thing he said after the batista had come, served him the drink he ordered and left again.

"ah… just tired."

The man didn't say anything for a while. The frown he immediately noticed on your face when he spotted you just earlier ran a hundred questions in his brain, however, at the very tip of his tongue laid a question he really wanted to voice out ever since the two of you had met at the bookstore, but he just couldn't.

After giving it some thought, he gathered some strength and decided to just ask his concern away.

“that thing you told me about the other day,” he started, carefully picking his words, and you tried to listen as attentively as your fogged up mind could, "does it still hurt?”

At first, you couldn't understand what he was referring to exactly, not until you thought back on the two times you two had met before.

he watched your pointer finger, the one you'd been gliding along the rim of your glass freeze. He didn’t speak, neither did you. it seemed like neither of you was breathing for a few seconds. The air in the room was getting colder, and so were the tips of your fingers as they hung above and barely touched the rim.

Gulping the saliva that gathered on top of your tongue, you contemplated whether you should provide an answer to his question or just ignore it like it was never asked at all. This was a question no one had ever asked you since the entire cheating situation had happened. it was always ‘are you okay?' or ‘Did you move on?’. something of the sort. Not once did anyone wonder whether it still stinged your heart every time the image of your ex popped up before your eyes or not. not once did anyone ask if the scene still haunted you after all these months or not.

But it’s not like you were mad or pointing accusatory fingers at anybody. the pain was yours, and only you shall bask and drown in it. only you shall figure out how the fuck to get the hell out of that dark pit and heal from it.

It was just something that you yourself were too caught up in the hurricane of your grief and bitterness to even ask your own self, ‘does it really still hurt?’, ‘Are you getting any better?’, 'are you still stuck?', 'what if you're stuck there forever?'

It took a long moment before you could manage a proper reply to that stirring query. until you uttered a small ‘he died’ loud enough for him to hear.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him lifting his head, yet he remained silent. you rawly added, "the asshole died in a car accident like nothing had happened at all... tell me," you paused to lift your tremling hand and rest its palm over your chest, right where you heart was beating fast, " how should I mend what’s been ruptured in here now..? Why is it even still hurting..? Why am I mad..? I don't understand. Do you..? I…”

Yoongi took his time to answer, humming then absent-mindedly nodding his head before speaking again, “it takes some time.”

“how do you know that?” you inquired again, lifting your head to have a look at his side profile.

“I know how it feels to be abandoned by someone so special, at the very least.”

“you got dumped?” you blurted.

He let out a breathy scoff, lightly scratching at the skin under his left eye with flushed cheeks.

“did you really have to say it that way?” he hissed playfully and wet his lower lip, eyes pinned on yours, “but yes, my ex left me to chase after her dreams.”

somewhere deep in those dark orbs, you could catch a glimpse of something sorrowful, but it quickly vanished as he attempted to smile and then looked away.

“I guess we’re both losers, then.” you downed the three quarters full glass in one draft. The room was spinning. you were feeling gradually more light-headed.

“We are not losers just because we got our hearts broken.” Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t sound that buzzed yet. his voice got deeper, and his words stood steady the more he talked.

“Then what are we? If not a loser, then what does being cheated on or abandoned for some worldly goal make you?" tears started welling up from deep inside, but even in your dizzy state, you couldn't let them out. not at that moment, not with Yoongi some inches away from you. you gulped, and with a trembling voice, you muttered, "being stuck in one square while they move on with their lives and build castles for themselves, then have the audacity to die like nothing had happened at all, what does that make you?”

“a lover. being betrayed by a loved one despite all the unconditional love you offered makes you somebody who loves so sincerely. a wretched lover."

you allow his words to set in, analyzing them briefly and pondering before letting a snort out.

“That's even worse.” you said, bitterly.

Yoongi smiled, equally bitter as you, "turns out we're actually more similar than I had thought."

a ‘do you need anything else, dear?’ popped your little bubble up when the bartender showed up again, not once glancing at the man sitting right next to you as he addressed all of his attention towards you.

“no, we’re leaving.” came a sharp answer from Yoongi, and when you glanced at him you saw that his face held a stiff expression, one that was very different from the wide smile and crinkly eyes it was displaying some minutes ago.

The bartender turned his head towards him with a flat smile, then excused himself to serve some new customers.

“we’re leaving?” you tilted your head with furrowed eyes in confusion.

“yeah. you look gone as hell, and it’s getting late.” he started getting up, “i’ll give you a ride.”

“That sounds about right.” absently nodding your head, you stood up as well, and he guided you out of the building.

The door to your flat beeped once automatically unlocked, and just as you stepped in, you were faced with Saera. she stood there with her hands on her hips, eyeing your drunken state, unsatisfied. her shoulders lowered, and her brows rose as soon as she caught sight of Yoongi standing right behind you, then said: “you two..”

Yoongi began explaining the situation briefly to her, scratching the back of his neck as he stuttered on his words and blushed.

“she's not that wasted. All is good. Just put her to bed.” he finished his summary and hummed, satisfied with himself.

Before Saera could say anything, you grumbled an “I can take care of myself just fine.” and walked up to your room with unsteady steps, waving them off.

“and I'll go.” Yoongi mumbled, quickly walking out with a ghost of faint red still remaining on his plump, milky cheeks.

[showstopper35]

Honey Sun (arranged marriage to Megatron, part two)

Part One

a/n: a whole two people asked for part two! @yrsfch and @sleepisapriviligethatidonthave thanks! This story is giving me back my love of writing.

cw: implied masturbation, but not much else. a whole lot of silence.

-Days melted into weeks, months, years….centuries. The war raged on, and I was reduced to a princess in a castle. He never came back after that night. Suddenly called to the front, people said. Part of me thought it was a way to be rid of me. After all, neither of us had wanted this. Why was I expecting him to come back? No honeymoon for a puppet.

-And now the war was over. News of your death was a blow, but it was an even bigger one hearing that you had returned. Sure, Starscream ruled Cybertron. Shockwave was gone. But now you were on trial. They said they were letting you hold off on all your crimes. You hadn’t mentioned a divorce. Or even me. Not even when they asked me if I thought you were guilty. Not even when I said yes. They said you were going on a ship full of Autobots. They said I was to come with you. Optimus’s orders. Notice how Optimus never married?

-I followed, because I had no choice. Packed up my things and set them in our shared room. I saw that there was only one large berth, because of course. We were married. I was married to one everyone called a monster. -The next few days passed in total silence. No words were spoken between us. You were never there, of course. At night you recharged with your back facing me. My back faced yours. -I was surprised it ached so much. After all, I should be more than used to this by now. But maybe the fact that you were here made it worse. So close, and yet not enough. Sharing a berth again didn’t mean our marriage was fixed. So much for the great intervention of Optimus Prime. You can’t salvage two broken pieces.

-I’d taken to reading near you on the bridge, or in the bar. Sometimes Rodimus tried to talk to me, but my one-word answers put him off. I think he pitied me. Ultra Magnus politely asked me how I was and left it at that. I could imagine you being friends with him. If you even had friends. -I remember once that Rodimus had glared at you, not-so-subtly flicking his eyes over to me. With a heavy sigh, you had asked how I slept. “Fine. You?” “Fine as well.” He gave Rodimus a cold stare. We didn’t speak the rest of the day.

-I should mention here that centuries of being alone has made me rather good at…entertaining myself. I only do this when you’re not here, of course, but I think you can tell. Averted gaze when you come back to our room, finding my face slightly flushed. I can’t tell if you do it too. -We continue this silent dance, waiting for the other to finally crack the canyon between us. I know it’s going to me, eventually. I can’t be alone for centuries more. I start imagining talking with you…being with you. I’m probably going crazy just because of the newer bit of contact. -I start accidentally brushing against you in your sleep. Whispering “Good morning”, only to be met with a gruff hum of acknowledgment. Little glances at you while you read, or talk with Rodimus. Once, I smile at you, and I know that you froze for a second before turning away.

- I want more. -Maybe I do want this.

[thewordypeach]

Untitled

Untitled

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: explicit 18+ smut!!!! unprotected p in v, oral (cunnilingus… and anilingus), masturbation, implied dom, no use of y/n. summary: you can't sleep. joel helps out. author's note: so, umm... i never post my writing but lately, i've been wanting to contribute to the happiness of thirsty smut readers. so here it is - my debut. a Joel Miller fic <3 ~*~ also i'm sorry that the summary is so bad, i'm terrible at them. and i'll try to fix up my warnings cos i'm totally new to this but *most definitely, this is an 18+ story*!!! p.s. it is untitled as of right now

In the early days, you used to go scouting with Joel. You thought you were strong. You thought you could handle it; you forced yourself to understand that this was how it needed to be from now on. But seeing the ruin of the country you grew up in was devastating. It tore you to pieces and shattered your already broken heart into nothingness. You spent the following weeks in bed, crying your eyes out, feeling utterly hopeless, and praying for death. 

One morning, after a particularly rough week, you woke up in a different bed. In Joel’s bed. His body slept next to yours, his hand resting on your arm. It was the first time, in a long time, that you felt something other than sadness. You never got an explanation and Joel carried on as if it was normal for him to be waking up next to you. 

At first, the change was subtle. The tiniest things that Joel did, you almost didn’t register them. In your haze of depression, it took you a long time to realize what he was doing. Sometimes he would give you the first and last bite of his meal, sometimes he would touch your hair and sweep it away from your face. He began refusing your company on scouting missions, leaving you by yourself. You hated it but you hated going out there more.

So you would wait. Waiting was the hardest thing to do. You would be an anxious mess, waiting for him to return. You would soon learn that Joel always came back. Always. No matter what, he would come back. And every time he did, you would throw your arms around him and squeeze him oh so tight. Joel was complacent and never complained about the embrace. 

This became a routine for the two of you. He would leave and you would stay. He would come back and you would hug him. And at night, when you were feeling lost, your heart filled with despair, Joel would grab your hand and bring you to bed with him.

For months, nothing transpired beyond this. 

Until one night, you found yourself missing your husband. You were aching for his touch. You thought it was wrong to think of your dead husband in a sexual way, but you also realized that this was the first time, in a long time, that you felt horny. Something you didn’t think was possible anymore. Of course, you were in Joel’s bed and he was already asleep. You were jealous because sleep came so easily to him.

You heaved a sigh and closed your eyes, waiting for Mr. Sandman to bring you a dream. But instead, lewd thoughts flooded your mind and your core ached. You flexed your thighs, repeatedly squeezing them together, desperate for the horniness to stop. You thought, 'Not right now!'

However, the urge in your body was strong. Undeterred. You sucked in a deep breath and opened your eyes to glance over at the man next to you. You listened to his soft, little snores and watched the steady rhythm of his chest. You knew Joel was a light sleeper, so you thought carefully of your options. If you left the bed, you risked waking him up and what would you tell him? That you were going to the other room to rub one out?

The thought of admitting that to Joel made your face flush with embarrassment. However, this thought was quickly replaced with does Joel get horny too? And if so, how does he deal with it? Because he's never really alone. You realized that maybe because of his age, the urge to masturbate stopped and maybe Joel was impotent, and he couldn't get erections anymore -

You stopped.

This was dangerous to think about. You were overstepping a boundary with these dirty thoughts and you could potentially ruin your entire friendship with Joel. Your eyebrows furrowed together - was this friendship? Or was this something more? It was confusing because while Joel was somewhat affectionate, he was equally as cold and distant. The tender moments were few, and far apart. But they were there and you saw Joel trying. You saw the effort he put towards keeping you sane and surely, he must have a reason for it. 

As the minutes ticked by, your thoughts drifted back to your husband, and you couldn't help but compare him to Joel. They had their similarities but in the end, they were totally different. Your husband was a skilled surgeon and Joel was a contractor. Yet, in some ways, Joel's rugged hands reminded you of the precision with which your husband wielded a scalpel.

The comparison didn't last long because a vulgar pornographic fantasy began to unfold inside your mind. Unable to resist, you carefully lowered your hand and dipped your fingers beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You grazed the wet spot on your panties that had been steadily growing over the last hour. A sharp exhale escaped from your mouth and your eyes snapped over. Joel was still asleep, his chest rising and falling - completely oblivious.

Moving slowly, you pressed your clit through the fabric and slowly rubbed it with delicate precision. You knew your body well and you knew exactly what it was going to take to get you off. The touch felt good. Really good. But you thought it could be better, way better. Without delay, you slipped your fingers into your panties and cupped your fuzzy mound.

Meanwhile, your other hand began kneading your plump breast; your fingers twisting your nipple until it was hard. You closed your eyes and thoughts of your husband ravishing your body took over. Your fingers glided through the slick wetness, vigorously teasing your clit and tight hole until a fire began to burn inside your core.

Slowly but surely, Joel replaced the thoughts of your husband. You pictured Joel's scowling face as he demanded you to cum for him. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you suppressed a moan that was threatening to spill. 

You imagined how frustrated Joel would get with your disobedience and how he would take over: he’d push your fingers aside and demand that you to listen to him before plunging his tongue deep inside your cunt, licking and sucking until you were cumming -

A fiery jolt shot through your stomach and reached out to zap every inch of your body. Your toes curled with delight and a low moan escaped from your lips. The release was intense and quick. The orgasm afterglow kept you in a hazy bliss. Your once tense body relaxed into the mattress and you sighed, trying to remember what you were so worried about when it hit you - you could no longer hear the soft, little snores. With your hand still in your pants, your eyes peeled open and found that Joel was awake, and gazing sleepily at you. 

“Can’t sleep?” Joel rasped out, shifting his body closer to yours. You blushed crimson. You were too embarrassed to answer.

Joel pressed, “Hmm?” 

“Uh, yeah. Something like that…” You murmured, twisting your body so that your back was now facing Joel. You took this opportunity to take your hand out of your pants, wiping the wetness of your sex onto the sheet below you.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Joel inquired as he engulfed you in his arms, bringing your back to rest against his chest. His warm breath touched the nape of your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

Surprised by his affection, you cleared your throat, “I - I,”

Joel wiggled his hips into yours, pressing his stiffening arousal against your ass. You swallowed hard as he continued to nuzzle his face into your neck. He hummed against your soft skin, "You were thinking about me, weren't you?"

“N…no,” You attempted to lie but Joel didn’t appreciate it. Placing his hand on your hip, he pushed your stomach down into the mattress. He swung his leg over yours and straddled you from behind.

Joel brought his chest down to rest against your back and lowered his mouth to your ear, “I’m going to ask once more, were you thinking of me when you came?”

“Y-yes, Joel.” You admitted softly, “I was.” 

“Mmhmm, tell me about it,” He instructed.

Reluctantly, you told him, “I pictured you eating my pussy with that stupid fucking scowl of yours-” A low groan replaced your words because Joel began grinding his cock against your ass. The friction felt amazing.

“Is that it?” He asked, sounding doubtful. “No thoughts of my cock?”

Joel sounded a bit hurt. You thought it was cute. You softly told him, “I didn’t manage to get that far…”

“Oh,” He grumbled and nipped at your ear lobe. It sent your brain into horny overdrive. “Do you usually think of me when you cum?”

You ignored his question and huffed with frustration because your pussy was throbbing for him and if he was going to fuck you, he’d better do it now. You attempted to wiggle out of his grasp but his strength easily overpowered you. You whimpered, “Joel, please -”

You didn’t have to say another word because Joel tugged your pajamas off. You tried to roll over but Joel was quick and he kept you on your stomach. He hiked your hips up and firmly planted your knees on the mattress, displaying them apart for better access. Joel peeled off your panties and pushed his nose into your sex. You hissed in surprise. 

As Joel inhaled your tantalizing scent, his chest unleashed a deep and animalistic moan. His tongue dodged out and licked your pussy, dragging it upwards until it met your puckered asshole. You gasped at the sensation of his swirling tongue against such a taboo body part. He started lapping at your pussy and asshole, savouring the taste. He listened as you moaned and begged, your words coming out as incoherent sentences.

He didn’t stop eating until your pussy was soaked, and weeping with happiness. Joel pulled down his pants and his cock bobbed out, precum leaking from the tip. He grabbed his thick shaft and pressed the head of his cock against your pussy, dragging it between your slick, wet lips. The movement incited feral moans from both of you.

Once he was happy with the thick layer of pussy juice coating his cock, Joel pushed it inside your tight cunt. You whined noisily as you stretched around his girth. You said his name, over and over, until his entire length was inside. Your lungs were gasping for air and your fingers were gripping the sheets below you. Tears of pleasure almost burst forth because it had been so long since your pussy had been this full. 

He stayed still, letting you get used to his size. He started to slowly rock his hips, humming out, “Mmm, bet you didn’t imagine it being this big, huh?”

You shook your head, mewling. You couldn’t form proper words. You were already cock drunk on him and Joel hadn’t even moved yet. At a glacial pace, Joel pulled out, leaving your pussy feeling empty and hollow. He shoved his cock back in. Your pussy swallowed his entire length with such ease that he couldn't help but moan at the sensation. He did this several more times. Each time you cried out as an orgasm built inside you. 

Without warning, Joel pulled away causing you to whimper. But moments later, he was flipping you onto your back. Your eyes flickered down - you couldn’t help it. You desperately wanted to see Joel’s cock. It was big, really big; you thought this size only existed in pornos. Joel saw your eyes widen with surprise at the sight of his gift and he grinned wolfishly as he climbed on top, pinning you down again.

“Do you see something you like?” He teased. His silky voice caught you by surprise and you looked into his eyes. The cold cynicism had been replaced with lusty desire. You wanted to say something but he quickly caught your lips with his, effectively shutting you up. 

As he licked the crevices of your mouth, his arm pushed your legs apart and he sunk his heavy body between them. Joel ran the head of his cock against your slit and with a single thrust, he entered. He moaned into your mouth and you moaned into his. You quickly snaked your arms around his neck, eager to keep him close. 

He pumped in and out, slow at first because he liked the impatience etched upon your face then you gave him this sexy, little pout that sent him into a frenzy. His pace quickened into an unsteady rhythm of hard, shallow thrusts. Your moaning became urgent and your breathing became laboured. Your face twisted with pleasure. Joel could tell that you were close and he would do everything to get you there. 

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked, chest heaving. You tried to answer but the words were caught in the back of your throat, you could only nod in response. You were deliriously high from the ecstasy of Joel mercilessly fucking you. 

“Cum for me,” Joel ordered. He was trying to get you to cum first. But your delicious moans mixed with the crude sounds of your wet pussy would have him exploding any minute now. He accelerated his thrusts, driving his body into yours, somehow fucking you harder than before. 

“Cum for me,” His voice was raspy but still demanding. Joel slipped his hand between your bodies and tweaked your swollen clit with his fingers. Your pussy clenched around his cock - a sign that you were almost there. 

“Fuckkkk,” You drawled out, breathlessly. Your eyes shuttered close.  The carnality of it all made you wish that this would never end. You wanted Joel to fuck you until the world ended - again. 

“Look at me,” He hissed, “Look at me when you cum,” 

Obediently, you opened your eyes and peered at Joel. His fingers rolled around your clit once more but it was the appearance of his stupid fucking scowl that gave your body the final push, shoving you over the edge. You shuddered as sparks of pleasure set your body on fire.

 “Joel, I’m cumming - m’mm cumming!!!” You called out, gripping his strong arms. But Joel already knew because your eyes had rolled into the back of your head and the walls of your pussy were flexing around his cock, coaxing him to cum. The sensation was enough for him to be raptured and his orgasm quickly trailed after yours.

Locking your legs around his waist, you kept him there as his cock twitched and emptied inside your pussy. Joel dropped his body onto yours and buried his face in the crook of your neck. Both of you were breathing hard, chests rising and falling together as you slowly drifted back down to earth.

You laid there, bodies fitting together like a puzzle piece, for what felt like forever. You were convinced Joel had fallen asleep and as you were about to ask if he was okay, Joel rolled off. He kept his face nuzzled against your neck and snuggled into the side of your body as he draped the forgotten blanket around the two of you. 

Joel kissed your shoulder, softly cooing, “Sweet dreams,”

[sc0tters]

The Last Hello | Mat Barzal

summary: it’s been two months since you last saw Mat. but what happens when you are both in important roles in the event and Mat had been doing som personal evaluating.

request: yes/no

warnings: sad Mat, no real ending, slight use of strong language

word count:3.1k

authors note/ ending went to crap as I am tried so pls excuse any typos cause this wasn’t beta read. This is sort of a part two for The Last Goodbye, but I won’t make a series as this is the last part. both parts came be read separately but they make more sense in the way suggested (pt 1 then pt2). To the person who wanted Wedding Mat I didn’t know if you had a preference for whether or not he was the groom. So if I’ve gotten it majorly wrong just let me know and I’ll write you a new piece!

pt 1

You wondered if you would have been seen as a bitch if you didn’t show up.

Sure you were the maid of honour, and sure you had said you could survive seeing Mat for a whole week again but that didn’t mean that you thought you could actually do it.

You hadn’t seen Mat in over two months after timing the pick-up of your stuff in his apartment whilst he was in New Jersey you were physically officially gone. It was the worst reality check that Mat could have ever come home to, the first sign was when your hat wasn’t on its hook by the door anymore and it only went down hill from there. The Canadian had contemplated all of the different ways to talk to you, he had called all of your friends and the ones who did pick up said you needed space. He even sat at your favourite coffee shop every morning for a week until one of the baristas who had seen the two of you in there plenty of times eventually told him that you started getting your coffees delivered to work and that’s why you hadn’t been in there.

It had been the hardest two and a half months of your life. When the islanders were knocked out of the cup you wanted to call him, when you saw a cat that reminded you of Marley. The ginger cat you snuck into your dorm and then had to give to Mat when your RA found out about him. That led to three happy years where you were proud cat parents before Marley got sick causing you two to have to put him to sleep, leading to a week of near none stop tears from you both. When you saw a couple at your favourite table at the local Korean BBQ place you wanted to tell him as it was an ongoing joke between the two of you. But your brain always told your heart to forget about it as there was no chance you were going to do that to yourself. Sure you regretted breaking up with him after you had some time to think about it, but you really never thought that he’d ever take you back. And besides with how things ended you knew that you missed the old Mat, not the current one who value love in the way that you did. Staying in New York was tough on your heart so you opted to moving further into the city where you were now in Rangers territory. Your one bedroom apartment was above this nice old lady who had three cats who all seemed to adore you. Felix the grey tabby cat made daily trips up the stairs to come say hello to you where he got his daily dose of cuddles from you. The best part about Margret though was that she knew nothing about hockey so you turned into an open good about your breakup with Mat.

It was refreshing being able to just vent to a totally outside party about it all “know you remember that if he gives you any shit you punch him okay,” Margaret’s words drew a laugh from your lips.

You loved how blunt she was “and then I’ll give him a second one and say it’s from you,” you nodded as you pulled her into a hug “thank you,” not only had she taken you to the airport but she had also convinced you to go to the wedding. Her words called you out for being a bad friend at the fact that you even considered not going just because of a boy. Whilst Mat was a little bit more than just some boy to you, you understood what she meant and were quick to book your flight to Kelowna just after that.

Sure you were disappointed that you weren’t going to make it to the bridal shower but you were swamped at work and Lenasia was just grateful that you could come to the wedding.

You and Mat had been asked to be the maid of honour and best man respectively as your friendship with the couple had gone on for years. It came as a shock when you announce that you and Mat had broken up but when both she and Ethan had confirmed with both of you that you were comfortable being around the other during the big day, wedding plans were quick to continue on.

After the long flight you thanked your taxi driver as you got out of the car “just when I thought you wouldn’t show up.” Ethan joked as he had seen your taxi pull into the street a minute ago from the kitchen window.

You let out a playful scoff “miss my Gracie Bear too much for that.” You pretty much stepped into the role of playful aunt whenever you saw his daughter. It was aided by the fact that she seemed to adore you “she’s just woken up from a nap,” he explained as he pulled you into a hug.

It felt weird for him as he had never heard your side of the break up from you. Sure Lenasia had relaid information onto him after you called her in tears one night, so he knew that you were just as broken as Mat was but it was tough not being able to say anything to either one of you about the other. The soon to be married couple wanted to meddle but they knew that it was best if they kept their noses out of it all “you better not be hiding my maid of honour E!” Lenasia called out causing you to giggle “where’s my beautiful bride?” You asked as you made your way into the cabin.

Your relationship with the girl has blossomed over the fact that your boyfriends played on the same team, when they went separate ways you still remained in touch never letting your friendship burn out.

Mat thought he was dreaming when he saw you walk in, the way you hugged Lenasia placing a kiss on her cheek before you picked up Gracie and proceeded to smother her in kisses eliciting a high pitched giggle from the baby. You looked good, there was no doubt about it. You had cut your hair and had even gotten those highlights that you had been contemplating on for like four years.

When the Canadian locked eyes with you everyone seemed to notice it. Even Gracie did as she made a little noise of complaint that she wasn’t your center of attention. Not wanting to be weird you let your face form a soft smile “why don’t I show you to your room,” Lenasia offered as she motioned to you to follow her.

Ethan watched as the three of you left as you still had Gracie in your arms “you okay bro?” He asked as he tapped Mats arm. That was the weirdest thing he had like ever seen the boy so “yeah,” the Islanders player nodded as he thought he was going to throw up. The idea of seeing you again was something that he once looked forward to, still desperate to get back with you Mat hadn’t accepted the fact that you two had broken up. Actually seeing you felt like a whole different territory.

A wave of nerves came over you as you guys walked past more bedrooms “since my cousin decided to come you have two options, there is a bed in Gracie’s room or-” Lenasia sent you an apologetic look as she felt bad for the situation you had been put into “it looks like we’re roomies.” You had cut her off because you knew the second option involved Mat, she hadn’t given any signs to indicate that matter but somehow in your heart you knew that he was apart of the unsaid statement.

You looked down to the clothes you were wearing and realised that you were in need of a change “I’ll let you take her whilst I go freshen up?” You asked as you held Gracie out for her mother to grab.

The first real moment of silence you got came and hit you like a truck. With the amount of unknown girls that were there you were glad that none of them were Mats date. Sure it didn’t mean that he was single, but it meant you didn’t have to watch him get all cozy with another girl.

Your body practically collapsed onto the bed as you were in need of a nap. The eight hour plane ride was finally catching up to you. But just as you were about to doze off into a peaceful slumber you heard that ever so familiar laugh “you look like you’ve just died,” Mat pointed out as he leaned against the frame of your door.

You rolled onto your side to look at him “been a long day,” you confessed as you had been up since five in the morning due to nerves.

What surprised you the most was the way Mat walked into the room and sat in the little arm chair that faced your bed. He wanted to talk but the words were not things that he could find “how were the parties?” You asked as you propped your head up by your hands.

It actually hurt Mat that you hadn’t asked him about himself and he meant that in the least conceited way possible. Maybe it was the fault of his brain or his heart but he truly thought that you could have at least asked how he was “they both went down successfully.” He nodded as he rubbed his chin feeling the stubble that was being to grow through.

You always loved it when Mat had a beard, it was a tradition at one point that if the Islanders made it into the playoffs that he’d let his beard grow for the duration of the teams time in the playoffs.

It might have sounded absurd but the action from the boy made your thighs clench “thanks for picking up my slack when I was gone.” You yawned as you smiled at him.

The Canadian watched as you rested your head on the soft padding that was your duvet “I’ll let you get some sleep,” his voice was soft as he pulled your blanket over you.

The way you mumbled a small thank you before you shut your eyes warmed Mats heart “I love you,” he whispered making sure that you were all tucked in before he left you.

So what he didn’t hear was how you said the same words back just as he walked out of your bedroom letting your sleep consume you.

Your love for Gracie was seriously being question by the way she continued to babble whilst the two of you were meant to be asleep “Gracie Bear please so me a real one and just go to sleep,” you pleaded as you knew that you were going to have to be awake early tomorrow for the long and hectic day that stood ahead.

When your requests went ignored you let out a sigh running your fingers through your hair. You really didn’t want to have to do it but if you wanted any chance of a solid night of sleep then you clearly had no choice.

So you muttered things to yourself as you grabbed your phone charger before you left your room making sure to kiss Gracie’s head on your way out. The way to Mats room was short, Lenasia had shown you where it was just in case you needed it. The thing that took the most time was mustering up the courage to actually knock on that door, it took three soft knocks on the door before Mat shuffled out of bed and opened the door.

Due to the height difference you were met with his chest “what’s up?” He asked as he let out a yawn surprised to see you there.

You rocked on the balls of your feet “can I sleep in here tonight?” You cocked your head hoping he’d say yes “Gracie won’t stop talking.” You added as you rubbed your eyes.

The boy laughed “sure,” he nodded as he motioned to you to come in.

The sight of his room made your heart feel at ease. The two single beds had the left one untouched and the right was where he clearly slept. He never used to have a side of the bed where he slept but when he learnt that you took the left side his only option was to become a right side sleeper.

You sat on what was now your bed as you just stared at the roof. It wasn’t often that you experienced being left speechless given that you were talkative by nature “I’m sorry,” Mat blurted out causing you to lift your head as you looked at him.

When he saw that you were confused he had to continue “for everything I did.” He shoved his hands into his sweatpants as he sat on his own bed.

All you could do was nod “you didn’t so anything wrong Mat.” You sighed as it was the truth. If he had yelled at you or cheated on you it would have made the end of your relationship not feel as forced.

Mat had spent the last few months reflecting “I’m sorry for what I didn’t do then,” he knew that it probably sounded better as your main reason what you had shared for breaking up was the fact that he no longer showed you love.

A smile formed on your lips “thank you,” was all that you could get out as you fiddled with the necklace around your neck.

You felt bare without your M necklace so once you gave it back to him you were quick to get a replacement chain as you needed something on your neck “we should probably go to sleep,” the hockey player announced as he looked at the digital alarm clock that sat on the table between you.

Mat simply hoped that the silence in the dark would give him more time to wrack his brain for things to say to you. Somehow he had all the time in the world whilst having none of the words.

A sigh fell from your lips “goodnight Mat,” you mumbled as you rolled over to let the sleep consume you.

Surprisingly the wedding was going really well. The ceremony was beautiful, you walked out to see Mat and swore you were going to cry but you kept it in because you knew that you’d wind up crying later.

Which was totally true, your tears struck in the middle of the couples speeches. Thankfully for you though you were sat next to Mat after two of the bridesmaids that were sat on either side of you wanted to sit next to each other. The Canadian noticed the sniffle you had as the tears welled up in your eyes, he was quick to lock his hand with yours “you okay?” He murmured into your ear as he shot you a concerned look.

You nodded as you raised your fingers to your face making sure to catch the tears that fell before they ruined your makeup “yeah,” you sighed “that was just really cute.” your confession caused him to chuckle. It hurt you both though because deep down inside as you listened to Ethan make his undying love speech to Lenasia, you both thought about Mat being in his shoes and you being in Lenasias. Your wedding although as hypothetical as it was, it was still something that both of you had thought out in depth having conversations and everything. The type of venue all the way down to the cake had been decided on. Mat would never intend on telling you this but he’s even had your engagement ring ready to go for the last ten months.

He was meant to propose on your big Valentine’s Day bash but with his injury that trip got canceled and so did your proposal.

The air between you two felt dense as people began to separate as they made their ways to the dance floor.

You decided to stay back was you had Gracie on your lap and as a result Mat stayed with you.

It wasn’t something that you expected him to do but nevertheless you appreciated it “she likes your bracelet,” the Canadian pointed out as he smiled.

Gracie made a string of noises before she looked up at the girl “she likes the fact that it’s shiny,” you explained shaking your head as you made funny faces at the girl.

Mat always knew that you were going to be a great mother “always thought you’d be like that to our kids.” He let his filter disappear as it caused your eyes to go wide “our?” You repeated as you hoped you had done so indeed.

You smiled as he nodded “we’d have a girl and a boy.” You had both agreed that you would have a minimum of two children as you both grew up with siblings and felt like if you were to have a child that they should do the same.

This rush of the feeling of content waved through your body “I want you to ask me again.” After only getting two hours of sleep due to the fact that he had been racking his brain for what to say, he had finally come up with the perfect answer.

Despite the not contact for two months, you knew exactly what he was talking about. “Do you love me?” You asked as you took a deep breath.

Whilst you knew that his answer was more than likely yes or else he wouldn’t have told you to ask him, you still felt like his answer might have been like his previous one.

Mat turned his chair so that he could face you “I love you so much that you’re the first thing that I want to see when I wake up and the last thing I want to think of when I go to sleep.” Your heart practically melted at the confession “you are my life, my happy and my world all in one, so I’m sorry I made you feel less than.” Usually be would have stopped with the first co session. Doing things like the second one were meant to be for massive moments.

And a massive moment is what this was.

Your Mat was officially back.

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[plasticflwrs]

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ DISCOGRAPHY — Under the cut, you will find an IN DEPTH look into the career of South Korea's favorite idol band, Plastic Flowers. Beginning in 2016, they would rebrand after failing to make a profit in 2017 and find true success with TEETH in 2020, just a few months before their 16 month hiatus would begin. In 2022, they came back stronger than ever with I'M ALIVE and have consistently topped the music charts since. They are known for their promotional style which revolves around a spring and fall release each other, amounting to about 16 releases across singles, minis, their three full studio albums. Despite their constant stream of releases, the quality never suffers despite being completely self-produced since all five members are now involved in the writing process.

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ TRIGGER WARNINGS — Death of a parent, descriptive mention of eating disorders + treatment ( 2021 section ). If this piece is too triggering, please DM and I can give you a summary of what happens!

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ THE YEAR IS ... 2016 !

Compared to their underground counterparts, idol bands have been relatively successful in the past as seen with FNC's trio of FT Island, CNBLUE, and N.Flying along with JYP's newest venture, Day6. However, Plastic Flowers would fall under the radar due to the influx of third generation groups debuting between 2014 and 2016 with all three of the major companies debuting at least one new group during that time. Plastic Flowers would debut as four members with SALEM, DAL, JIHUN, and GWYN on May 15, 2016 with the lead single SCARED from their single album LET ME GO. While the two songs were praised by music critics, it failed to reach the general public. Along with their other single album, it would sell 46 copies total within the year and has never been reprinted. Original copies of the album are priced very high on second-hand selling websites and no "real fans" currently own a copy. LET ME GO and MENTALISM were even taken off of all major streaming platforms until fans demanded for it's return in 2022.

MV VIEWS: 1.2 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 0.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0

In their debut, Plastic Flowers explores themes of fear and insecurity through the song SCARED. The lyrics suggest hesitant to approach someone and an inability to express oneself freely, with most fans interpreting this to relate to Salem's original group THE BIG GLOOM, which she left the year prior. The phrase why are you scared? repeats throughout the song and highlights a sense of frustration with the fear and reluctance in their relationship, despite attempts to change. The narrator yearns for reassurance and validation, seeking comfort in the hope that their fears and uncertainties will fade away.

This line-up would release their second and final single album MENTALISM in November of 2016 with the title track MOUSE. This would be a continuation of their previous release, in terms of themes and inability to perform well on music charts. Though Mouse is beloved by fans now, it made no noise in 2016 and remains their worst performing single of all time, selling even worse than their debut single. Mentalism marked their first attempts at performing at small venues like bars and other restaurants, however, due to Oliver's age, they were often denied by the promotional teams. They would return to busking and posting covers in hopes of gaining more fans. At the end of 2016, it was announced by Superbloom Media would be placed on INDEFINITE HIATUS as they evaluated where to go forward. DAL and JIHUN would leave not long after, moving to larger companies and debuting in traditional idol groups instead.

MV VIEWS: 3.9 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 0.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0.

In 2024, MOUSE is often compared to their later b-side BRAND NEW CITY from their 2023 album OHIO IMPROMPTU. Both discuss the sense of dread from being in one's prime and dreading what comes later. Mouse is described as what happens after the narrator of Brand New City moves and realizes that they need to find a way to survive, that simply moving was not enough to change their feelings and create happiness. The narrator vows to "find love / and find a way to survive here", giving them a new sense of hope for the remaining time that they have and will move on from the silence.

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ THE YEAR IS ... 2017 !

In September 2017, Plastic Flowers would return with an almost completely new lineup composed of SALEM, JUNYEONG, MINGHUI, SERIN, and OLIVER. Oliver would drop his initial stage name, Gwyn, during this rebrand for an unknown reason, though he still uses it to produce for other groups. They would release ROCKSTAR from the album SOCIAL REJECTS to limited success. They would sell 99 copies of their third single album, doubling the previous records set by LET ME GO and MENTALISM. Superbloom Media would also shift their promotional style in favor of the more traditional idol route, getting them performances on Music Bank and The Show for three weeks.

MV VIEWS: 3.4 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 0.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0.

ROCKSTAR moves away from their traditional melancholic sound for more critiques of the social landscape. Rockstar explores themes of frustration and defiance in the face of judgement and control from others. They are seen as a suspect, watched closely, and labeled as a hopeless murder by those around them. Similar to their other tracks, this is believed to have been written after the conflict with The Big Gloom and is Salem's take on it. Those around the narrator continuously reject and oppose them, leading to a growing sense of resentment with the world around them. The chorus emphasizes the narrator's resolve to stay true to themselves because they believe they are doing nothing wrong. This song would be revisited in 2024 and a re-recording with new pianist Oh Deurim would be included in their third studio album RUTHLESS ROCKSTARS as a b-side.

With a small but mighty fanbase under their belt, Plastic Flowers would return in December 2017 with their first mini-album NORTH STAR, which had five songs including the title track FREEDOM. This release would double their catalogue and allow for slow growth across the next few years. THE BIG GLOOM, composed of the four original members, would also release their newest album over Soundcloud that same day, leading to tensions amongst new and old fans as the debate of what Salem should have done returned. Rather than alienating the old fans, they went back to their old sound to prove that nothing has changed and Plastic Flowers will only be a better version of her previous band. NORTH STAR was promoted similarly to their previous single album with performances on all major South Korean music shows and even an appearance on The After School Club to connect with international fans.

MV VIEWS: 6.7 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 0.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0

FREEDOM returns to their original sound with the themes of liberation and desire to break from societal constraints from ROCKSTAR still following them. Freedom opens with lyrics expressing uncertainty about what to sing about, overwhelmed by the abundance of refrain in the world and emphasizes their understanding of the path that they have chosen. The narrator proclaims that they have finally found their own way and the metaphor of cutting the moon and devouring the night suggests a rebellious mindset, choosing to defy expectations and live freely. Freedom encourages fans to let go of the norm and find their own path, breaking from societal expectations for their own happiness.

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ THE YEAR IS ... 2018 !

2018 would cement Superbloom's promotional style for Plastic Flowers as they release an album in the spring and fall, the seasons in which they have found the band to be most popular in. The first release of 2018 was HIGHER & HIGHER, their second mini-album with the lead single LET'S GET LOST. This release continued their momentum forward and there was nothing out of the ordinary during this era. They were slowly being included in more variety shows, as seen by their joint appearance with Day6 on Weekly Idol and their first invitations to a major award show with the Golden Disc Awards and Seoul Music Awards. They were not nominated or even performed, but their photos from the red carpet got people talking about the unknown group.

MV VIEWS: 5.7 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 0.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0

By now, Plastic Flowers had also shown what their lyrical concept would be as they created another song about escaping hardships of life and embarking on a journey of self-discovery. The narrator has a desire to let go of the past and leave behind anything that feels uncertain in LET'S GET LOST. The verses encourages themselves and their companions to leave behind their negative experiences as they "open the curtains" and lock the door behind them. Later lines capture the excitement of encountering new experiences and embracing the unknown, showing their growth away from the past that seemed to follow them and rising above.

LOVE ME? would be the last Plastic Flowers album fully written and produced solely by SALEM and Superbloom's in-house production team. All of the members were growing interested in producing their own music, especially the two youngest members—Serin and Oliver. They had submitted drafts to Superbloom for Love Me?, however they were not chosen. Interviews this era were a bit tense because of this and Salem wanting to keep her creative control over the group. Superbloom would also give Plastic Flowers their first reality show, FLOWER SHOWERS, which followed them around and tried to show fans the "real" members.

MV VIEWS: 6.3 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 0.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0

TWENTY-ONE revolves around the themes of heartbreak, disappointment, and the realization that a once-special relationship has come to an end. The lyrics depict the emotions of someone who believed their relationship was unique and meaningful, only to discover that their partner does not feel the same. This is famously thought to be about former bandmate YING SHUHANG, more commonly known by his stage name IRUM. Throughout high school and much of their career together, they dated and broke up around the same time Salem left to join Superbloom Media. Through this song, she is coming to terms with the relationship being over after asking "why don't you adore me?" over and over again. She uses the concept of sleep and going to be bed to bury the past and move on from the relationship, showing that she would be ready to move on once she wakes up.

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ THE YEAR IS ... 2019 !

Plastic Flowers would release HYPOCREEP in March 2019, right before OLIVER was set to appear on the new survival talent competition show SUPERBAND, produced by JTBC. Despite the sound change, Hypocreep was met with positive reaction from fans and is their first mini-album to sell over 1,000 copies in the first month. It is often seen as a turning point for the band as their releases following would follow a similar sound and is the first song to credit another band member besides Salem, that being OLIVER. This would be the first of a long partnership between the two that would eventually fizzle out during their 2022 hiatus. Hypocreep is also one of the most popular songs for other idols and bands to cover given the technical requirements of each instrument.

MV VIEWS: 7.4 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 0.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0

HYPOCREEP expresses frustration towards people who are hypocritical and fake, particularly those who are thirsty for drama and attention on the internet. The singer identifies as a "hypocreep," which is a term they use to describe themselves as a different breed of person who is hyper and freaky. The singer acknowledges that they may be seen as strange or abnormal to others, but they do not care because those same people secretly wish they could be like the singer.

While Hypocreep opened the door for other members writing, THE CHAIN would be the first time another member would sing on a Plastic Flowers track. The Chain is a duet between Salem and Oliver and would mark the beginning for a lead singer change. It was under the direction of Kim Yuchan, a first generation soloist, and he advised the change since Oliver was well liked by the general public after Superband. THE CHAIN still remains a fan favorite song and would give the band their first award show nomination on Show! Music Core, much to the band's surprise. Most of the members recall this era as the first time they actually felt loved by the audience and could see people singing along.

MV VIEWS: 10.2 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 1.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0

The main message of THE CHAIN is that relationships can be enduring, even if they have difficulties. The first verse describes the struggles of having a relationship and feeling powerless to their partner's actions. They discuss the idea that a love can endure even in these moments of darkness, as the lover is trying to tell the other that they would never break the chain that binds them together. There is a strong guitar and bass solo--played by SALEM and OLIVER--that represents the strong connection between them that won't be broken so easily. The end is a plea to stay together, to keep the chain together, and not run into the shadows away from each other.

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ THE YEAR IS ... 2020 !

Fans of Plastic Flowers fall into two camps for their 2020 releases: either loving it or hating everything it stands for. Due to it's "inappropriate lyrics" FOR YOUR LOVE was banned by all the major South Korean music shows and would be promoted in a series of live concerts instead. They would instead promote READY TO FLY as their title track for this era, saving the performances of For Your Love for their smaller performances. Not long after the conclusion of For Your Love's promotions, Superbloom Media would confirm SALEM and OLIVER's relationhip, which had begun at the end of the year prior. This would be another reason why people did not like the song as it showed their relationship was taking away from making songs about important topics, not just each other.

MV VIEWS: 29.2 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. Banned.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. Banned.

FOR YOUR LOVE talks about the desire to please and satisfy someone in a romantic relationship. The lyrics in the verses describe the singer's intent to be the first thing on the person's mind and engage in sexual activity with them. The chorus reinforces the theme of doing anything for the person they love. The bridge highlights the singer's willingness to give everything they have to their partner and the importance of communication in the relationship. The outro repeats the sentiment that the singer is willing to do anything for their partner's love. 

TEETH, and it's accompanying album LOVESICKNESS, continues with the themes from FOR YOUR LOVE. Unlike the previous song, it was actually allowed on music shows and was loved by their fanbase for the aesthetics that came with it. Due to the show going semi-viral on TWITTER thanks to a tweet by a poppy asking "what business Plastic Flowers had releasing" the song, LOVESICKNESS sold over 10,000 copies by the end of the year. This would also be the final time they were promote prior to their 16 month hiatus, making it special to their fans. Teeth would later become a sleeper hit by going viral once again and entering the top 10 on the Circle Chart after being used on an OST.

MV VIEWS: 229.6 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 3.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0

The major themes of TEETH relate to toxic and tumultuous relationships, with the lyrics depicting the ups and downs of being someone that can be both loving and hurtful. Written completely by OLIVER, many fans have begun to debate the real meaning of the song as it relates to his former relationship with Salem. In TEETH, the protagonist realizes that the person they are with is full of contradictions as they compare their lover to a pair of teeth. The lover's heart is described as having teeth, meaning that while they may talk sweetly, they can also hurt and bite. The relationship is very complicated, in which both parties are hurting each other but can't let go with the narrator realizing that they are losing themself by the end of the song and maybe even the relationship.

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ THE YEAR IS ... 2021 !

The GOODNIGHT era was spent dreading what would come next for Plastic Flowers. It was obvious that the members were losing steam as shown by their smaller performances and the constant cancellation of their performances at their bar, Cheeky's. The release of 403 only made that worse as they went back to the melancholic sound and promotions outside of music shows were cut short. In fear of losing the band, Poppies made sure that it sold well, achieving a record-breaking 14,000 copies in the first month alone and securing them more music show nominations. However, it seemed that nothing they were doing was enough as Plastic Flowers slowly slipped away from the public eye.

MV VIEWS: 122.9 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 3.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 0

403 focuses on liberation and moving forward from a difficult past. In the verses, detachment and release from pain and regret is encouraged alongside the image of taking off one's shoes and lying on the floor as an escape. The narrator wants the listener to forget about the past and focus on the possibilities of the future, becoming an active participant in their life rather than remaining passive. There is a reoccurring theme of breaking free as shown through the lyrics "get up in the morning" and "get out of deception", indicating the need to rise above negative situations and leave them behind. It suggests that nothing valuable can be obtained by staying where they are currently and encourages them to let go and move on.

Despite GOODNIGHT selling well, Plastic Flowers were put on an unofficial hiatus two months after it's initial release. Superbloom would be intentionally vague about the details behind the scenes to keep everything under wraps, however, sasaengs exposed the truth. Not only were they on hiatus to "fight burnout", but Oliver had returned to his hometown of Boston after the death of his father and Jiyeon had been checked into an eating disorder treatment by their manager, Cheon Garam. During this time, Salem and Oliver would also BREAK UP, creating a new tension within the band. The band's social media—both company owned and personal—would go completely dormant from March 2021 to April 2022, leaving many to believe that the group would never return and would be lost just before they achieved stardom.

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ THE YEAR IS ... 2022 !

Just when most fans began to lose hope for Plastic Flowers to comeback, Superbloom did the unthinkable: dropping a new set of teasers for a full album called INTERNET BLUES. During this time, it was also revealed that MINGHUI had left the band and was replaced by Timefighter contestant OH DEURIM, who had failed to make it into the debut line-up by one place. According to Minghui, he left on good terms with the members but could no longer handle the idol life anymore. Despite how protective poppies are, they surprisingly welcomed Deurim with open arms and wanted to see what she could bring to the table. INTERNET BLUES would be released on May 5, 2022 with the title track I'M ALIVE, which secured them their FIRST WIN and first NOMINATION at a major award show after selling 100,000 copies.

MV VIEWS: 392.9 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 8.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 2.

I'M ALIVE is an uplifting song that talks about the feeling of overcoming challenges and persevering through tough times. They promise that even in the midst of uncertainty and darkness, the singer declares that they will keep themselves alive. The chorus serves as a mantra of sorts as the singer repeatedly affirms that they are alive and won't give up. The idea of "highlight" suggests that even in the bleakest moments of life, one can find something beautiful to hold onto. The bridge encourages listeners to keep searching, keep breathing, and keep alive. It's a call to action to hold onto life and never give up. 

Plastic Flowers would return to their original promotional schedule with the release of PSYCHO, the title track for their first studio album, CALL ME CRAZY that November. The studio album was celebrated by all fans as it finally meant that Plastic Flowers were confirming that they were here to stay despite their earlier issues. The members looked so much more alive this era and they even held their first FAN SIGN, which went as well as expected. The members had fun with their fans, but hated the constant requests for cuteness or prying into their personal relationships. They would hold their own formal CONCERT, with over three thousand people in attendance.

MV VIEWS: 323.4 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 9.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 3.

PSYCHO explores themes of obsession and dependency in a relationship. The lyrics depict a protagonist who is deeply infatuated with someone to the point of being obsessed, as represented by the repeated phrase "I can't stop thinking about you." The protagonist seeks answers and validation from a doctor, indicating a desperation for a solution to their intense emotions. They recognize their own exaggerated behavior, acknowledging that they may appear crazy or "psycho" to others. The chorus reinforces the protagonist's obsession, stating that they cannot live a day without thinking about this person. It conveys a sense of dependency and the idea that the protagonist's life revolves entirely around the object of their affection.

★ ⠀⠀ ! ⠀⠀ THE YEAR IS ... 2023 !

Coming into 2023, Poppies were promised many exciting things from the band. In March, Oliver's solo BURNOUT SYNDROME with the lead single STARTING LINE would be released to overwhelming success, cementing his popularity with the general public and showing everyone that he was here to stay. Though fans were happy for him, the same could not be said for his bandmates as SALEM and JUNYEONG began a smear campaign that lasted throughout the entire promotional period. Oliver would ignore any questions about the situation and chose to move on from it instead, celebrating his own achievements rather than focusing on those around him. In June, the band would come back as five to release LOVE AND WAR with the lead single of the same name, which became their best selling record at that point at just under 1 million copies.

MV VIEWS: 748.3 million.

MUSIC SHOW NOMINATIONS. 10.

MUSIC SHOW WINS. 7.

WAR tells the story of a broken relationship, in which the narrator realizes there isn't much to save if they cannot stop fighting. They are beginning to realize there isn't much to save and they have lost their love for each other, leading towards a state of emptiness or insignificance. The song's title WAR comes from the lyric "war of attrition without benefit", highlight that this war between the lovers is doing nothing to help with their current problems. The narrator wants to call a ceasefire, but it seems that their relationship's end if inevitable. Written by Oliver, many fans believe that this song was written about the end of his relationship with Salem, which has never been confirmed or denied by Oliver or Superbloom Media.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi :) i hear you give advice and i very much need some. I’m 15 and I live in a pretty (very) conservative christian area.

My older sibling is 19, and came out as trans to me like a year ago. Ngl I didn’t really know what that meant, cause we don’t learn about that stuff (except for your classic, anything that isn’t “normal” is wrong). But he just told me that he’s happier with he/him and with his new name. But he hasn’t told our parents yet, so I have to use the old stuff in front of them when he comes back for visits (he’s as uni) which feels gross cause I know he feels uncomfortable but it’s fine. 

I sort of thought the he/him thing would be weird, since that’s not how i’ve addressed him my whole life, but after a couple of months it was actually super easy. We call each other like twice a week, and I was worried we’d drifted apart after he told me but actually were closer than ever, I feel like I know him a lot better now. 

Oh but his old name, the one parents gave him, SUCKS. And now I can’t mock him for it cause he picked a new one, which seems unfair to me but I can come up with new material, i’m creative.

Anyway, he told me that he’s been saving up and he’s gonna get top surgery. He’s had a pretty good job since  school so I guess he’s been saving since then. I hear it’s expensive. 

But it made him decide to tell our parents. So when he came up and visited, just before he left, he told them.

That was last week. They reacted terribly, as we knew they would. And they’ve both been yelling about it a bunch. Saying stuff like “He (okay no they’re actually using she but I won’t be doing that even in writing cause it feels wrong cause it’s my brother) is totally insane” or “He needs therapy, we failed him.” or “How dare *old name* do this” or “he’s delusional” and a bunch of other awful shit like that.

So I have two options. I can try and encourage them to do little things like use he/him for my brother. Or call him their son instead of daughter. Or actually look at photos of him now (he very much doesn’t look like a girl anymore- idk how they didn’t realise tbh). Or how he always did little things like cutting his hair and hating dresses and other stuff like that.

I’ve often been able to help my parents be nicer about stuff. Like my friend who’s a lesbian, they hated her at first but now they’re nicer about it.

But maybe if I do that they’ll start yelling about corrupting me (as they’ve done in the past) and harass my brother worse and be even worse about it all. 

It’s hard to know which direction it’ll go.

And look I still don’t really get it. But also it makes sense, you know? It’s like the final puzzle piece being slotted in, all those things he used to do make sense now. 

My parents say I can’t interact with lgbtq+ stuff cause they’ll corrupt me. But like- not to be rude but, aren’t they corrupting me? My brother HAPPY. I don’t see how that’s wrong. And they’re the ones telling me I should be actively encouraging him to be- what, sad again? Uncomfortable in himself. 

I don’t know, i’m not totally sure I understand my parents or my brother. I got tumblr in the first place since it’s the only thing I could think of that’s online (so I could hide it) and probably has lgbtq+ people on it so I could- idk get used to it I guess. 

And now i’m here. 

When it comes down to it, I want my brother to be happy, and if he’s happier as my brother than my sister then I don’t see why I should care about him switching pronouns or whatever. 

So I want to try and help my parents see it like that too. And they often do see new sides to things when I point them out. So maybe id be helping.

But there’s also the chance they’d get more mad at my brother for corrupting me and that’d make him upset and that’s not what I want. 

So yeah, any advice? 

It’s kinda scary coming from my small town onto the giant internet of people i’ve been taught are weird. But you guys don’t seem that weird. I mean- you do but weird like i’m weird, not weird like ill. (Sorry if any of this seems rude btw, I might not get it but i’m trying really hard not to judge anyone, since it’s pretty clear to me that some of the things i’ve been taught aren’t correct). 

Also why do my parents think my brothers ill anyway? I know him, i’d know if he’s ill. Also i love history, and trans people are all over history. I mean they’re never said to be trans but watching my brother, it’s pretty obvious other people were like him. 

Anyway, thanks and have a good summer 💖

Hi hon!

I want to tell you, it sounds like you have a really good head on your shoulders and you're an amazing support to your brother. You should be so proud of yourself.

I think you need to think about what is best for you and your mental health. If speaking up to your parents about your brother could end in them getting mad at you, it might not be a good idea. You've been doing amazing at supporting him while staying quiet, and I know he knows you support him. It might be best for yout o quietly educate yourself online without making a fuss, until you aren't relying on your parents as much for money, food, and shelter- kind of like your brother did.

This also might be a good thing to talk to your brother about, too. Like you said, this could affect him, and he probably knows your parents well. He might have some good advice <3 But you don't HAVE to stand up to them if it's not good for you. It's okay to educate yourself, and be an ally in other ways <3

Naming you history anon <3

(also wish your brother luck on his top surgery for me!)

[violetasteracademic]

Hey bestie, was just wondering when chapter two comes out 🙂‍↕️ been refreshing ur page once an hour for dayyyyyys. 💓

Hi my friend!! So funny you should ask, it will be ready to go up by early evening tonight! I will let you know as soon as it is posted! (I'm in US central time zone. So about 6-7 hours from now)

I'm so honored and delighted to have you reading the new fic 🥹 I don't like to share toooo much of my personal life on here because this fandom is sadly not always kind to artists and writers when it comes to the hostility of the ship wars, but I do want to give a heads up that A Court of Twisted Fate will not be coming out *quite* as fast as Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow. I blacked out and wrote almost 100k words of Golden Doe in a total disassociative bender in under a month and a half while I was in between homes, closing the final chapter of my old life after a long fought for divorce, and set aside my 10 year long business and career. I was in a weird little vortex and could easily get a chapter out every few days. I want to be honest with myself and all of you that I will not be able to match that pace right now without massively sacrificing on quality and thorough edits!

If I haven't said it enough, you guys truly have no idea what the response to Golden Doe meant to me. Writing that fic helped me survive a very difficult time. I had never written a fic before and didn't even have an ao3 account, I had to wait a few weeks to be allowed in. I had no idea anyone would read it, and sharing that story wound up being one of the most special and joyful times of my life, which seems impossible when I look back on what I was going through! I just... Thank you. I don't know what else to say. Thank you a million times, every day, forever.

I am starting life completely over in a new city and a 1940's bungalow that has had a few catastrophes since moving in 🫣 I'm hard at work job hunting in this nightmare economy and fixing up the urgent items in the house! So it's a different kind of busy filled with lots of fear and anxiety and mental exhaustion. Thus, I'm also trying to give myself lots of time to heal and recover. I'm hoping for a chapter once a week this round, but I might need some grace for up to two weeks!

This might be a good opportunity to answer some other questions I've gotten. Some have noticed the new rating is M instead of E. There WILL still be smut, but this is more of a dark and spooky old school style slow burn and very story forward. And while I hesitate to say the spice will be more vanilla, it is not as kink forward as Golden Doe! It will still be spicier and more detailed than what SJM would typically write (y'all she's tame in my book) but a different style. That being said, the piece is not finished. Sooooo.... 🦇 we'll see if kinky Azriel body snatches me again and demands that the spice be freakier and more frequent. In which case I'll update the rating.

Golden Doe started as an M rating and 15 planned chapters, and we all saw how that worked out!

I'm pushing myself to create a unique world and characters that are not just a carbon copy of Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow. Of course, it is still canon Elain and Azriel! But I'm focusing on different sides of them. I hope you all enjoy it just as much, but if it winds up not being your vibe, do know I have a few ideas bouncing around for Golden Doe continuations, additional Elriel fics, and my inbox is always open for ideas and prompts/requests!!

[otaku553]

How goes the fma x albedo fic? I hope that doesn't sound pushy, I'm genuinely curious. And in that vein, do you have any little drabbles you may have written or want to write? Especially with your recent kny ocs/yourself and your siblings. That'd be super fun to read about! Your art AND your writing is so freaking good, the moment I see you've posted something new on your blog I'm clicking it so fast. Same with your ao3 account ❤️

Thank you for the kind words!!! Currently not working on any fics, since I just came out of 10 weeks of summer research where my days began at 8 am and ended at 9 pm for probably less than minimum wage hahaha (doing research is a Bit Sad but I get a whole month to relax before classes start again so thank goodness for that)

I do however!!! Have a lot of plans!!! If you’re interested you can read more below!

Plans include but are not limited to:

Finally working on Homuncular Nature again!! I definitely do have a lot of plans and cool scenes playing out in my head for the next chapter, it’ll just come down to when I actually put pen to paper (or stylus to iPad) to actually organize and write them all. The road block I think is that I have seen neither Albedo nor fmab very recently and all my concrete ideas are for around the 30 episode mark for fmab, the turning point with the first actual confrontation against father and the subsequent Briggs arc.

Rewriting Ten Thousand Maple Leaves! A lot of people have been very kind but I think I missed the mark with my first chapter to be honest. My writing has gotten a lot wordier and less succinct, which feels like I’m filling a chapter more with fluff and unnecessary description than actual content. I think I also dislike how I characterized Sanemi and how quickly Kazuha was willing to agree with things. Writing both of them is kind of a difficult challenge tbh! I think in rewriting it I want to give back to Kazuha more of his vagrant role in the games, where he is avoiding the law for reasons somewhat out of his control.

Ebisu siblings content! I think it might be fun to try having them interact with more of the canon characters in kny but I also think there’s some value in a complete sort of outsider point of view when inserting characters into a piece of media. I feel like whenever I see self inserts I see a lot of ocs making themselves indispensable and making meaningful relationships with existing characters that way and that’s totally valid! That’s a lot of what I do for crossovers as well. I think when it comes to my own ocs though, I want them to feel grounded in some form and the reality of it is that none of the characters I make based on myself or real people are that impressive or remarkable. But I also think there’s a lot of value in showing smaller scale things outside of the main interactions and plot to show that even though we aren’t remarkable, we still have our own meaningful connections and ideologies and stories :) in the end the Ebisu siblings are a lot more visual though so I may just continue making doodles and art without writing anything haha

Kirby & Meta Knight ageswap AU: I was mostly doing this on my ask-gikabi sideblog in short form comics, but I lost sight of what I wanted to do after making the discord and starting to interact with some of the people who followed it. I think a lot of people are inspired and have their own very cool ideas that I wanted to take into account but then eventually it was no longer my story or the story I wanted to tell, which is why I’m thinking of restarting it as a fic. This one is still in very rough idea stage though, I have honestly no clue how I’m even going to begin organizing it

Yanfei ace attorney crossover: this one’s just pure crack lmao I would definitely write it as crack taken seriously but I think this is fun to explore just for small ideas that pop up every now and then, i.e. yanfei is semi-immortal because she’s half adeptus so it would be Really Funny to me if she showed up in dgs era, got her attorney’s license, went into hiding after it became obvious that she wasn’t aging, and then re-emerged after rebranding herself as her own daughter or granddaughter. That, and I have a lot of fun imagining someone as pragmatic as yanfei trying to get through the sheer chaos of aa despite being otherworldly

Continuing winter weather advisory: I got to a really good point in that fic and was rereading it today like,,, damn I wrote that? And it would be fun to see where I planned on going with it so I do want to also try working on that a bit if I can

Kazuha & Kunikuzushi role swap au: this is something I posted about a Long While ago but it’s an idea I continue to be fascinated with :) I especially enjoy how these two characters could have had completely different roles and personalities depending on how their pasts happened (with wanderer being so nice and turning so bitter and kazuha growing up so spoiled (for lack of a better word) and turning out so weary and yet kind

Link click and mha crossover: this one is honestly just a very recent idea but I think it would be fun to make a drabble on how lightime photo studio would be able to continue operating even in another world and the trouble they might get into for illegal quirk usage and what using cheng xiaoshi’s powers in a world where being able to tell the future is canonically possible would entail

I have!! So many ideas!! And not enough time or motivation to actually write any of them most of the time :’)

But I’m very glad to hear that you enjoy them and look forward to my posts!! :D I really hope I can work on some of these over the last month of summer vacation that I have :)

[writersdare]

Keep It Quiet | Ashton Irwin

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Ashton and Y/N kept their relationship a secret for a while, but one interview made the things a little complicated.

Warning: none

Word Count: 1 819

Author’s Note: I figured I'd write a little piece about Ash, so this came to my mind. I hope you'll enjoy reading it. Maybe I should write the 2nd part? Let me now. Requests are open ♡

It’s been few months since Ashton and Y/N kept their relationship a secret. Obviously, the friends and close people knew, but for others it was still unknown, even though, fans were guessing everything right from the very beginning. To be fair, they started to talk about these two a year ago, when Ashton and Y/N only met. They were good friends at first, yet, people were constantly asking if they were dating. Perhaps, it was just too noticeable they were always drawn to each other.

In any case, no one had a desire to scream about the romance just yet. Ash and Y/N wanted to keep it private before sharing their little secret to the world. Three months felt more like a year, though, as that’s for how long their feelings were blooming. They moved in together rather quickly, it happened almost naturally and no one even thought it was a rushed decision. Maybe because Y/N was used to stay at his place anyway, before they became a thing.

They met at work, so it was double awkward at first. Y/N was responsible for a creative part of the band’s new album, no one obviously planned to become that close. She preferred to keep her personal life and the job separate, and the guys were always like that, too. After all they were professionals. Ashton was taking it even more seriously than others, that’s why it was so hard for him to make the first move. It was a totally relief, though, when the work was done, and Y/N became more of a friend for everyone. They were constantly going out all together, and that’s when Ashton figured it was the right time to act.

“How about this one?” he entered their bedroom in a black patterned shirt and dark jeans. The guy looked at Y/N in the mirror, while she was doing her hair. 

The album just came out, and the weeks were busy with the press. Apart from music, the band put a lot of effort into a visual part, and as a creative director, Y/N was attending some interviews with the guys to explain the whole art concept behind the album. 

The girl looked at her boyfriend in the mirror, but then turned to Ash and made a short step back to see his outfit fully. The musician was staring at Y/N, waiting for her verdict.

“Uh… I like the first variant better.”

“Really?!” he sighed and threw up the hands in the air, being annoyed he had to change again.

“You look good in this one, too, babe. I just like you in that velvet jacket better,” Y/N shrugged and came back to her hair.

“No, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, looking at himself in the mirror. “Plus, if I put on a black shirt, it’d be better with the velvet,” Ashton concluded and glanced at Y/N, hoping to hear her opinion again. He was always like that, if the guy was unsure about something, he’d prefer people to tell him the same thing few times. As if he was checking if they were certain.

But Y/N only nodded, focusing on the curling iron.

“Are you nervous?” Ashton sensed her mood immediately and touched the girl’s shoulder. She looked amazing, and the musician made sure she knew that.

“Just a bit,” Y/N said honestly.

“It’ll be alright, sweetheart,” Ashton gently kissed her temple and smiled a bit, looking at her in the mirror. The girl gave him the same warm smile.

It was getting harder to keep everything private, as on the interviews they’d be asked about their relationship all the time, and it was annoying. Of course, managers were giving a set of questions hosts were not allowed to touch, but they couldn’t put them two on the list, otherwise it’d be too obvious.

“When is your car coming?” Y/N asked, when Ash went to the bathroom to change the outfit again.

“In twenty minutes. Yours will be in half an hour. Will you make it?” she heard his voice through the wall.

“Yeah, I’m almost done,” Y/N nodded.

Maybe it was a bit ridiculous, but rather necessary — they were going to the radio station separately to avoid too many questions.

Ashton left home earlier, and Y/N arrived shortly after the band. Introducing each other, the sign “on air” lit up, and the interview has begun. The program was going live on YouTube as well, so the lovebirds were sitting purposely away from each other. Ash was sitting in the end of the couch with Calum, Michael was in the middle, and Y/N was sitting in the corner with Luke. The interview shouldn’t have taken too long, it usually lasted about twenty minutes, so doubtfully anything bad could happen. Y/N sill felt like she was on the edge, but the presence of a friend next to the girl was calming her down. Asking the band few questions, the host drew his attention to her. 

“So, Y/N, tell me how was it working with the guys, how the process looked like? Where did the initiative come from? I know you’ve been working with some amazing musicians in the past, Coldplay, Harry Styles, the list goes on and on. Is the working process always different?”

“Um, yeah,” she smiled and nodded, relaxing a bit, as the question was familiar. The boys turned heads to her, so Ashton thought it was an okay time for him to stare, too. “I was really happy the guys reached out to me, it was exciting. The process is always very different, I mean a lot depends on the music and if, um, an artist already knows in what direction they want to go to, if the music is somewhat ready. With these guys it all went almost naturally,” the boys nodded. “I feel like when we first met, we already got plenty of ideas,” Y/N glanced at Luke, as he was sitting next to her.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he nodded. “I think it was clear from the very begging that we understood each other, you know.”

“Yeah. It was also helpful the guys knew what they wanted to see. It’s harder when someone reaches out to you with no idea or concept. Surely, it’s my job, too, but if someone has no clue, no matter what we start to do, everything would seem wrong.”

“Did you have such experience in the past?” the host continued the conversation. “When the artist would contact you, but have no idea what they wanted from you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Y/N nodded.

“Can you give a name?” everyone started laughing, Y/N shook her head, smiling.

“No… But to be fair, it still can work out in the end. It’s always fun to try different ideas, I feel like we also had really a lot, before sticking to the final visual concept.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure, we tried to be as open as it was possible to the new ideas,” Michael agreed, actively gesticulating like he always did.

“Now, Y/N, we all know what’s happening on the Internet, so I just have to ask you and Ash if there is something going on between you, guys?” the host was smiling wide, clearly trying to get the truth from them, and Y/N only hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“I’m as single as it can be,” Ashton joked and smiled, being obviously annoyed.

“Alright, you heard this first on the radio! Y/N? Do you have someone special in your life?”

Y/N had no idea how these questions were related to 5SOS and the album, but she only smiled, ignoring a little sting she got when Ash answered the question first.

“I’m single, too. I know it’s a rather boring answer, but I’m currently focusing on my projects and, well, love comes when it comes,” she nodded with a smile, and the girl could swear she felt a tension that was growing between her and Ash running through poor Luke and Michael in the middle. To be fair, Ashton was first, who answered in a particular way. He could just say they were friends. But she was also certain that they both hated to lie. They just had to. Y/N continued. “We’re all good friends, we care about each other and, I guess, maybe someone just got a wrong idea because of that,” she shrugged.

“Alright, just friends then,” the host nodded and continued the interview, which all of a sudden became more of torture.

As about five minutes left, they started to play a game “who is more likely to”. The questions were quite innocent and simple, so everyone finally relaxed and were answering openly, fooling around time to time.

“Okay, next question,” the host said, smiling. “Who is more of a mom in your group?”

“Ashton,” Michael said right away.

“Yeah, Ashton…” Calum mumbled, thinking. “Although, I’d say Y/N was taking his place– “

“Yeah, I actually agree,” Luke giggled. “Y/N is more caring, would always bring snacks or ask if we drink enough water...”

Ash chuckled and nodded, remembering a story he actually did not need to tell on the radio.

“That’s definitely Y/N,” he looked at her, smiling and trying to hold giggles. “Remember, when we just woke up the other day and…”

Everything happened as if in a slow motion. Y/N kept smiling, trying to hide the horror on her face. Calum’s eyes widened, and Michael glanced at Ash to give him a hint to shut up. Luke hurried up to interrupt and save the day.

“Oh, yes, we were renting that house for a while to isolate ourselves from the civilization and just focus on music and art, and the other morning we went downstairs, Y/N was already there, making breakfast for everyone. That was rather sweet.”

Y/N nodded with a smile, deciding to go with that story, even though it had never happened. It still wasn’t too far from the reality, she was caring by her nature, indeed. And the girl definitely was coming to the studio with some snacks for everyone before.

“Yeah, that was sweet,” Calum nodded, supporting a lie. Ashton just kept smiling and nodding, feeling like an idiot. Until the end of the interview he preferred to stay silent and answer only when he was asked directly.

“Well, that was really close,” Calum commented, taking a seat in a car next to others. They were going to have another interview, so Y/N was coming with them.

“I know,” Ashton sighed. “Thanks a lot, mate,” he glanced at Luke.

“That’s alright, I think it all worked in the end,” the guy nodded with a supportive smile.

Everyone agreed with him, having no idea that meanwhile the fans were analyzing the video from the live interview and talking about Ashton’s and everyone else’s reaction when he almost told a story about him and Y/N waking up together.

– gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner – saw them here @uservalentine

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

[frownyalfred]

I was sorry to see you dealing with so many critical comments in Borderline recently, mostly because I love that fic and I love seeing characters in complex situations making bad choices sometimes. But I ALSO wanted to say that the way you're handling it is very classy. I have been dealing with some terrible comments on my own fics lately, and I find myself going to your page to learn how to handle it in a way that's fair, without being overly reactive or targeting anyone. Sometimes I can't tell whether to delete a comment or not, or whether to respond to a criticism or not, especially when my own hurt feelings get in the way. It really helps to see how someone else deals with it in a wise and experienced fashion. So thank you for that. If you have any further tips, too, I'd love to hear them!

Thank you so much anon! And I'm really, truly sorry that you're also dealing with hurtful comments. Nobody deserves that, especially authors working for free to put content out there.

I appreciate this ask a lot since there have been many times in the last few months where I have blown up privately, been upset, considered nuking everything, and generally reacted very poorly to negative, condescending, backhanded, or downright abusive comments. I was not handling it well! I was feeling hurt, and definitely not wise!

I have some wise, wise writing friends though. And generally, after venting (quite understandably) I think most authors know, in their gut, how they want to respond to these kinds of comments.

My advice is as follows, and it's been what I've pieced together from friends and my own experiences in the last few weeks:

Stand by your fic and your choices. It's great to slightly alter your plot when people respond really positively to a character, for example, but don't let a crowd of angry commenters force your hand on any decision, whether it's small or large. Would you have removed that character if there hadn't been three comments about it?

Try to be the adult in the room. Even if you're not older than your commenters or readers, the rule still stands. Try not to sink to their level (barring some necessary cases) and get in the mud. You're the author and you have all the power! Mute them, block them, lock down your comments -- the only power they have is through commenting, and getting into your head. That's power you can give them, or take away from them.

Be honest about how the comments make you feel. A lot of times, I think authors layer their hurt in other, more acceptable reasons. It's okay to be hurt by a backhanded, but well-intentioned comment. Saying "I appreciate this comment but the way you phrased it hurt me for x reason" is a totally mature and realistic way to respond to comments like that. Or telling readers something like "Please don't yell at each other/the characters in my comments, it stresses me out and makes me feel like you're upset with the story and/or me" is what I ended up doing.

Don't get caught in the weeds. Delete the comments that make you upset. Really. You don't need to respond to every comment (I have several rants about this already) and if you do, you definitely don't need to respond to ones that make you sad, upset, etc. If deleting that weird comment or skipping over a reply will make you feel better, do it! I'm sure your readers would prefer you skip a response over you getting hung up on a mean comment and not writing.

Know when to walk away. I took a break from writing borderline because it was stressing me out. Like, my already-high blood pressure was getting higher. I took a month off and wrote other things, and when I was ready to put up a new chapter, the words came really quickly and I was inspired again <3 It's also 100% okay if you never come back to that fic or series again -- your mental health is always -- always -- more important.

6. (bonus) sometimes saying "fuck you" is better than anything else. Sometimes, the pettiness wins, and you're not the adult in the room. I get it. I've ranted a lot on here and posted a lot about (anonymized) comments I've received. So yeah, fuck you, random assholes commenting awful things to me about sexual assault -- one day I hope to find a way to block my fics from ever being read by you again.

Sorry this was a bit of a rant. If you ever want to talk, anon, my inbox/DMs are always open. I'm sorry again that you're receiving hateful comments -- you don't deserve it, and your work deserves to flourish on its own. I hope you keep repeating that to yourself <3