#maybe our first ever genuinely positive interaction

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

always forget i actually love singing until i start recording vocals ans im like ohhh wait this actualy isnt a chore its like healing my dna

[xveenusx]

Guilty

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: it didn't matter that she did everything for him. it didn't matter that she loved him. insecurities ruin a great thing, love can't fix these problems

Authors note: angsty angsty angsty, bad JJ

Song rec: grave by tate mccrae

Part 2: Wanted

Perfect.

Everything had to be perfect. 

The perfect dress. The perfect makeup. The perfect boy. 

The past several days were borderline catastrophic with JJ getting arrested for sinking Topper’s boat. I begged and pleaded with my parents to help me get him out, promising them anything they wanted. They asked for the one thing I couldn’t give them. JJ. 

And yet, I said yes. I said yes because the thought of him sitting in a cell all alone, stuck with nothing but his thoughts made my stomach turn. He’s always thought that nobody needed him. Maybe that was something his drunken father drilled into him but it was far from the truth. I needed him.

Everything had spun out of control and it all started the minute I met JJ Maybank. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Being with him was like walking for the first time. Nerve wracking yet exhilarating--freeing.  

My life before him was just that, a life. Everything revolved around being the perfect little daughter to my parents. Debutantes, charity dinners, polo matches, and country clubs filled my schedule to the brim but they were rarely there. My mother was running a successful fashion line, working on her latest release while my father was a shark in the courtroom. While I loved every second of splurging on clothes, lavish trips to Europe, brunch at my favorite restaurant, I was missing something. I always felt like something was missing in a world where I had everything. 

That’s not to say I’m ungrateful for every opportunity my position and family has afforded me. But when you spend enough time with people you realize are only conversing with you for money or to step on you to increase their social capital, nothing seems genuine. 

Everything interaction was superficial and it became isolating. But with JJ, each and every moment we shared was intimate and unfeigned. 

He taught me how to surf the swells he spent hours in daily. I learned the slight touch of hand in the art of being a mild kleptomaniac. After several failed attempts and many loud complaints, I could finally balance on his dirt bike. 

None of these moments could be bought with money and maybe that’s why I cherished them so much. I cherished them so greatly that I refused to let them go.

And in turn, I couldn’t let him go. Despite the ever growing distance that's wedged itself between us the moment he was released from jail. Maybe it was a pride thing, or maybe it could have been the condescending jabs my dad threw his way, but JJ had pulled away. 

My father's threats to revoke the bail money hung heavy above our heads. So tonight, I was going to try and change that. I needed to bridge the gap that had us so far apart. Midsummers was how I was going to achieve that.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and held it for several seconds to calm my racing heart. I open them slowly, dragging my gaze along my reflection on the floor length mirror at the entrance to the club. A silky number drapes my dainty figure in the softest brush of yellow with threaded pearls as straps. Ivory satin Jimmy Choo heels from their latest collection decorated my feet. 

The familiar rumble of a truck had a grin pulling at the corners of my lips. My parents were somewhere in the building, having been on the board and needed to sign off on some last minute details. 

I didn’t mind the constant abandonment. The loneliness that once clung to me had slowly evaporated the moment JJ entered my world. 

Grabbing my Chrsitian Dior clutch, I headed for the entrance of the Island Club. A familiar mass of shaggy blonde hair had my feet moving quicker. The minute his face came into view I knew something was wrong. 

His lips were tight in a grim line as he continuously shook his head. I quickened my steps, apologizing swiftly to several people who were trying to get my attention. 

“I’m sorry, sir. Are you a member here?”

“Well, no, but my girlfriend-.” 

“Then I’m afraid you're going to have to turn back around. This is a private club.”

“Listen dude, my girlfriend invited me and-”

“Sir, you need to get back into your vehicle before I call security.” The coordinator, who went by Ryan, dismissed JJ without a second glance.

JJ’s eyes narrowed. “If you’d let me speak-”

“This is private property.”

“Bro, calm down. You’re not protecting the president.” JJ huffed, shoving his hands into his pocket. His cheeks tinted a slight red which had my blood boiling. 

He was person. Period. One that didn't deserve to be treated like that especially in such a public setting. I was livid at the thought of Ryan managing to make JJ feel embarrassed. 

“You’re not a member-”

“No, but I am.” I snapped coming to a stop beside him, causing the event coordinator to rear his head back in surprise.

“Hey, baby. ” The familiar pull of his voice coated me like the warmest honey. A smirk tugged at his lips at the obvious irritation on my face. 

Pausing to give JJ my attention, I placed a soft kiss on his lips and pushed back a wild strand of blonde hair. “Hi.”

The smile he gave me was like a sudden beam of light that hit me square in the chest. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t realize he was with you-”

“Add JJ Maybank to my member account,” My words were sharp and left little room for argument, though they were dripping with the sickeningly sweet tone I mastered at the young age of twelve. “Consider yourself up to date.”

“I’ll get it done.” With that, Ryan tipped his head and left quickly. 

I bristled once more, muttering under my breath, ”Dick.” My chest was heavy with guilt at his treatment, wondering if this was actually a good idea. I gnawed at my bottom lip nervously.  

This was not how I wanted our night to start. 

“I’ve never been a member before.”

Not bothering to conceal my giggle, I turned around and allowed my eyes to drift over every inch of JJ. The black suit I bought him was fitted and hugged every muscle in a way that had my stomach clenching. 

Sun kissed hands reached for me the moment I was within his reach. My arms wrap around the mass of lean muscles, my nose buried in his neck. Taking a deep breath, salt and sex wax filled my senses and I let myself relax. 

Home. He felt like home.

“You look very handsome.”

A rumble left his chest. “My sugar mama bought it for me.”

Hiding my face in his chest, a loud laugh slipped past my lips. JJ shushed me almost immediately, “People are looking. We can’t have them thinking we’re together.”

I pulled away, trying to keep a straight face at his antics. “We are together.”

“Shit, we are?” He held out his hand, amusement and mischief dancing in his eyes. “My sugar mama can’t find out or she’ll cut me off.”

How could I not love him when he made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt?

I hit his arm with my purse in mock outrage before taking his hand while his other touched my bare back. The feel of his rough calloused hands from all his hard work has me suck in a breath. Those rough hard hands knew my body intimately, inside and out. 

“Do that again and I’m finding the nearest bathroom.” JJ leaned down, his lips brushing against the top of my ear. 

A clearing of the throat had us both turning our heads. My father stood there with a stoic face, his eyes promising retribution later. 

Looking at my father directly in the eye, I place my arm in the crook of his, lacing us together. 

“I see you brought a friend.” The last word is spoken with clear disdain. 

My grip on JJ’s arm tightened. “I brought my boyfriend.”

“We’ll talk about this later.” 

As if they’d actually be home, I thought but decided to keep that to myself.

Deciding that this entire conversation was pointless, I was dragging JJ away from the pair when my father grabbed JJ, whispering something in his ear.

My stomach shrunk and apprehension filled me as the light look of JJ’s face fell, replaced with a flat look and hardened eyes. 

“Duly noted, sir.” His mouth curled in a sarcastic snark. 

I shot my father a disappointed look. Curling myself into JJ’s side, my arm wrapped around his waist and I tugged us into the party. “Ignore him, please.”

“Already forgotten, princess.”

My eyes watch his face for any sign of distress, but find nothing. Guilt ebbed aways at my walls.

“Let’s go find Mr. Adams. He owns a chain of surf shops. I’m sure if we schmooze him, we can get you a solid job or maybe even a board.” I tossed him a wink that had him grinning. 

“I like the way you think. Lead the way, gorgeous.”

Despite his hand on my back, all the warmth we had a mere moments ago was gone. I couldn’t help but notice the small distance he kept between us. One that didn’t exist until my father opened his mouth. 

Several hours later, the sun had begun to set and a cool breeze now caressed my bare back. I embraced the cool breeze due to the several glasses of champagne I had. 

Despite my love for the warm buzz it gave me, it did little for my bladder. “I’ll be right back.”

His eyes widened in alarm. “You can’t leave me here with these people.”

I smothered my laugh with my hand. “Did you want to come with me?”

“To the bathroom? Kinky, I’m in.” JJ responded, clutching my hand in his before expertly pulling us through the crowd. 

Nothing could peel off the cheesy smile that bore my face. Despite the slight hiccup at the beginning of the night, JJ charmed most of the members with his charm and humor. I was hoping with some networking, I could help JJ get some security. I believed he was capable of doing just about anything. He had such determination and never let failure keep him down. 

JJ knew how to hussle and I wanted everyone to see his potential, even if at times he didn’t see it himself. 

My heels clicked along the granite floor, our hands swinging in the air. A shriek escaped my lips as JJ twirls me around, my dress swishing around my ankles. “Gorgeous.” He puffed out his cheeks, his gaze boring into mine.

Our matching grins were nothing short of radiant. Being with him was easy in a world filled with difficult people. 

“Well this is disgusting.”

JJ went rigid. That wouldn’t have concerned me if he hadn’t muttered panicked curses under his breath. “If someone says one more thing to me..”

JJ never let Rafe intimidate him before but for some reason JJ seemed a little more hesitant with this exchange. Realization dawned on me. The boat. Fuck. 

I let my hands fall while rolling my eyes and turning to face Rafe. There he stood in all his stuck up glory, not a hair out of place and his suit neatly pressed. He looked every bit of a country member as one could possibly be with the light blue suit paired with a white undershirt and blue bow tie, brown dress shoes on his feet. 

“Don’t you have another line to snort?” I asked.

Sure, Rafe was conventionally attractive, if you didn’t pay attention to the blown pupils and the constant brush of his nose or the foggy look in his eyes. 

JJ snickered beside me, his hand softly tapping my ass twice in support. 

“JJ, go get me a drink.” Rafe cocked his head.

“I’m actually a member here now.” JJ responded, his hand caressed my cheek softly.

Shocked painted Rafe’s face. “That’s not poss-”

Kelce and Topper stood beside him, both in colored pressed suits as well. They kind of looked like the-”You powerpuff girls have fun.” JJ said with a crooked smile and a tip of the hat.

He seized me by the wrist and strode over to the exit. Relief at his plan to avoid a fight was fleeting at Rafe’s next words.

“If I knew a trailer home and food stamps was all it took for you to open your legs, I would have tried a long time ago.”

JJ jerked around in seconds, ripping out of my grip. He stalked towards Rafe, drawing his arm back before connecting with his jaw. 

A shout passed my lips, my hands covering my mouth in horror as JJ struck Rafe twice more, one blow hitting him directly on the nose. Blood began to gush out of Rafe’s nose, staining his dress shirt a deep crimson. “Say that shit again. Say it.”

Rafe let out a mirthless laugh, his lips pulled at the sides revealing his red stained teeth. “Once a pogue, always a pogue. Isn’t that right, JJ?”

Kelce jumped into action, his arm wrapping around JJ’s neck, pulling him off a Rafe into an effective headlock. That’s when I noticed two more hulking figures and suddenly we were surrounded. 

“Five on one, Rafe? Really?” JJ choked out, tugging at Kelce’s arm. 

Without thinking, I walked behind Kelce and slammed the metal clasp of the bag against the side of his head. Once. Twice. Three times. “Let go of him!” 

Kelce let out a yelp and jerked back, causing his grip on JJ to loosen just enough for him to get free. I went towards him in an instant, but he pushed me behind him as he surveyed the remaining men in front of us. 

Whispers dragged my attention from the scene in front of me as I locked eyes with several members who had poked their heads into the locker area. Shit, this really wasn’t good. I needed to get JJ out of here as soon as possible. I didn’t want to give my father any more ammunition against him. 

Clutching his arm, I tugged him once more towards the exit. I could hear more activity outside the locker room which had me pulling at him harder. I wasn’t going to let Rafe make him look bad in front of all these influential people. Over my dead body. 

“People are coming. We have to go.”

His chest rose and fell with quick breaths, his steele blue gaze not leaving Rafe’s.

“I’m serious. For me, JJ, please?” My final plea seemed to have pulled him out of his angry haze. Without wasting a second, he let me pull him further and further away from the group. Lacing his hand in mine, I made quick work of fixing his suit and his hair, pressing soft kisses as I went. 

“Whenever you’re done slumming it, you know where I am.” Rafe called out from behind us, earning us enough leers from fellow members. 

He tore his hand from mine. “Fuck this.” 

Apprehension coursed through me.

I could feel the storm brewing with each step he took. I trailed behind, my small steps nothing to his long strides. Rafe hit a nerve. One that JJ refused to acknowledge and let fester for months now. It was the elephant in the room any time I offered to pay anything at all. It bothered him, all the money my family had.

“Ignore him, Jayj.” I called out from behind him but his steps never faltered. “Rafe was just trying to get a reaction out of you.”

I could hear the soft melody of the music drifting over the wind from the party that was supposed to fix all our problems. Perhaps I was sticking a bandaid on a gaping wound. 

His shoulders were tense as he stopped a couple feet in front of me, shaking his head. Nerves had my stomach in knots. I only had one shot at trying to fix this. Feelings were never JJ’s thing. He spent months fighting our attraction before he finally gave in. Dating a Kook was never something JJ considered. 

Unfortunately, it was something others thought as well because they never failed to remind him. My father included. 

So here we are. JJ was backed into a corner and like any wounded animal, he had two choices. He could concede or attack and I knew JJ like the back of my hand. He would never give up, so instead he’d go for the throat. 

Too bad it was my throat he went for. 

“I understand-” I stopped speaking the moment JJ whipped around, his eyes cutting me deeply.

“You don’t.” I didn’t respond. My eyes lingered on his busted lip and bruised chiseled face. “You don’t understand so please don’t try to make me feel better by pretending that you do.” 

I pursed my lips. JJ was right, I didn’t understand what it was like to be in his position, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care. That I didn’t want to take away every ounce of pain if it meant he would be happy. 

“You’re right. But Jayj, it’s Rafe.” I argued softly, not wanting to draw attention to us. “He always says shit like that to rile you up but you’ve never let it bother you before. Why now?”

JJ’s face flushed. “Because he’s fucking right. That’s why it bothers me.”

My lips wobbled and I pressed them together. I had gone out of my way to ensure he’d never feel this way. I guess I failed. 

I moved closer, my steps unsure and clumsy. “You never said anything.”

My hand rested against his chest, and I could feel the familiar pounding of his heart. 

“That’s nothing new.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.

That did little to ease the emotional storm brewing within me. Every interaction since he was little was nothing short of violent and negligent. 

He wasn’t used to softness and kindness. We were trying to navigate in uncharted waters but we’re thrown off the boat every time the water got choppy. 

“We can go. Let’s just go, baby. Let me just say bye to my parents-“

“Stop.” He demanded, his tone serve. So unlike JJ. 

I dropped my hand and instead chose to focus on the sound of our breathing. I had to keep my head on straight, because I could tell he was already building up his wall so high, making his fortress impenetrable. 

JJ had never had a consistent thing in his life and I’ll be damned if I let that happen to us. 

Squaring my shoulders back, I faced his heated gaze head on. If he wanted an argument, he’d get one, but we’d both be leaving together. 

I had no intention of going anywhere. 

“Stop?” I echoed, raising my brow.

His eyes were as cold and hard as obsidian. “Yes, stop. How is leaving going to solve any of this?” 

“You’re picking a fight with me for no reason. I’m not the one you’re mad at.”

JJ raked his fingers through the sun bleached golden strands causing them to fall along his forehead. “Maybe I am.”

My eyes widened at his words. What had I done? He’d shared every bit of his world with me and I only wanted to do the same. 

Was that not what people do when they’re in love? Aren’t you supposed to share your interests with your partner and aren’t they supposed to want to know them? 

“For what?” 

He tugged at his shirt collar. “Why am I here?”

My brows furrowed in confusion. Why would he even ask that? 

“Why am I here, at this Midsummer's bullshit?” 

“Because I wanted you to be.” I smoothed out my hair to give my trembling hands something to do. “It’s something that matters to me, it’s not bullshit.”

I had spent months planning this party since my parents were on the board. I wanted everything to be perfect for them and for him. It all seemed silly now. A part of that stung deep in my soul. Bullshit was never a word I used to describe any of the interests he showed me, yet he so easily spouted it at me.

JJ stayed quiet but continued to fidget with the silver ring on his finger. I wanted to close the distance between us but didn’t know how. 

“Don’t let Rafe of all people ruin this. His opinion means nothing.” 

He lifted his chin. “It matters to your dad.”

I barely held back my wince. “He doesn’t get a say in who I date, JJ.”

“Oh, are we lying to each other now?”

“W-What do you mean?”

“Are we going to pretend that you don’t care about what your parents think?”

I took a step back as though he hit me. “Stop talking before you say something you’ll regret.”

“Everything you do is to get their attention. You’d die without their approval.”

In a manner of speaking, he was right. My parents barely paid me an ounce of attention and it was hard not to think it had to do with me. There must have been something wrong with me for my parents to not want to spend time with me. I spent the majority of my life trying to live up to their expectations hoping to be the daughter they always wanted, but nothing worked. I couldn’t get them to love me.

And he threw it all in my face.

I stared at him with tears in my eyes, hurt and stricken. 

At the sight of my tears, he looked away with his jaw clenched. 

“Why are you with me?” He hissed, holding out his arms. “It’s not like I can take you to dinner in Paris or buy you the clothes you like so much.”

Insecurity was a cruel thing. It had the power to turn someone as confident and sure as JJ into a puddle of irate nerves. And as his insecurity continued to dig its hooks further into his skin, he continued to rip into me, piece by piece.

“Because I love you. Because you make me laugh.” My voice raised, my hands clenched into fists by my sides. “Where is this coming from?”

Anxiety wound its way up my throat clocking off my air. 

“You’re fucking shoes are four grand. Do you know what I could do with four grand? I could get the power turned on in my house, or better yet, pay for the house.” The look he shot me had me wanting to be six feet under. He’d never looked at me like that before. He made me sound vapid and superficial. Like I didn’t spend most of my time on his side of the island. 

The guilt I felt early came back tenfold. Guilt for my position. Guilt for the money my family had. Guilt for the things I enjoyed buying, both for him and myself. 

Maybe I was just as bad as Rafe. 

Pain sliced my chest as his gaze continued to penetrate me like bullets.

“The other side of the island is starving and everyone here is drinking champagne and gambling a mortgage for fun. It’s disgusting.” JJ began to pace, shaking his head in disbelief. “You had me kissing ass to all these people, and for what? A job? Stop trying to turn me into something that I’m not.”

I wrapped my arms around my waist. “That wasn’t what I was doing. I was trying to open doors for you so you had options. All I wanted was to help give you a fighting chance.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.” The words continued to pelt at me, hitting my heart every time. The pressure in my chest only tightened further.

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for the person you love?” My voice shook, matching the trembling of my body. “It never mattered before.”

I'd never been in love before him. I didn't have anything to compare it too since the most affection I get from my parents is a card on my birthday. I thought by doing everything they didn't do for me, supporting and comforting and physical touch, would somehow translate into love.

“Of course it mattered. You’re a fucking Kook.” The raw and angry words seeped into my veins, the audible crack of my heart echoing for all to hear.

My throat constricted. Enough, I couldn’t hear anymore. No, no, no. But JJ seemed to have other plans.

“I mean, I’m standing here in a custom Tom Ford whatever that could have fed me for months. I’m out of my element and it makes my skin fucking crawl. John B is getting sent to CPS and Pope is getting jumped and I’m here at some stupid dinner with the people that did it to him. What does that make me?”

My chest cracked open and my heart caved in. I finally saw the broken boy in front of me. Bruised and broken, completely uncomfortable and unsure of himself. 

“Kiara’s a kook.”

“Kiara’s different and you know that.” It remained unsaid but I knew what he was referring to. Kie was a hippie rich chick who didn’t enjoy all the things I did: designer clothes, luxury dinners, expensive food. In other words, I was a self absorbed kook princess that didn’t care for those around me. 

It didn’t matter that I spent most of the summer with JJ helping him fix homes in the cut. It didn’t matter that I donated to charities or helped send care kits to those on the cut after the hurricane. It didn’t matter that I spent almost all my free time with him and the pogues just as Kiara did. 

To him, I represented everything he hated. It didn’t matter that I loved him so deeply I defied my parents. It didn’t matter that I upended my life and chose to be with him. He could never see past the money, something I had no control over.  

I may have been standing in custom Christian Dior and Jimmy Choo, but I’ve never felt more cheap as JJ continued to cut me down with each word. 

“Do you want me to apologize?” My pulse spiked as a burst of adrenaline had me spouting the truth. “I had just as much a choice of being born on figure eight than you did on the cut.”

He looked at me like he hated me. “I don’t know how we deluded ourselves into thinking this could ever work.”

“You don’t get to stand there and make me feel guilty for who I am. Just because I have money and like nice things, doesn’t make me an asshole. I’ve treated everyone in my life with kindness. Don't group me with them.” 

JJ scoffs, pointing at the crowd on the dance floor. “Them? Them--means your parents, baby”.

“I’ve never treated you less than me.” It was a last ditch effort.

“At least I know what Kook pussy tastes like.” He went for the kill. “Money and daddy issues.”

I stilled. The world stilled. Vicious hurt curled its way into my soul, etching every bit of it until I no longer existed. 

Like I said before, I had no intention of going anywhere. But, I guess to JJ, he always had one foot out the door.

I think I stopped breathing. I blinked at him, hoping cameras would pop out and the whole thing came out as a prank. But, no cameras appeared. 

Just him and I stood, in a field, an arms length apart but a universe away. 

“You don’t mean that.” The words came out strangled. “Take it back.” 

He said nothing. I had to bring a fist to my mouth to try and block out the harsh sob that threatened to escape.

“JJ, please.” I begged, my hands catching his arm. “Let’s just go.”

His normal vibrant eyes regard me coldly, a muscle jumping his jaw. I was drowning in my emotions. Everything had escalated to a level I couldn’t fix, because he wouldn’t let me. The bathroom seemed forever ago in the scheme of things. I can see the battle in his eyes of whether to give into his self destructive behavior or to come back to me. 

Any hope I had of him coming back to me dissolved in a matter of seconds. A security guard came up behind him, gripping JJ by the forearm and tugging us towards the front of the party. My eyes widened in horror as I realized they were going to parade him around in front of everyone which would just humiliate him more.

“Jeez Daryl, could you loosen up your grip,” JJ complained, attempting to jerk out of the large man’s grip. He didn’t so much as flinch at each of JJ’s gripes either.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped, "Let him go, Darryl."

Darryl shook his head and gave me an apologetic look. "No can do. Mr. Cameron complained."

JJ Scoffed. “I can let myself out. I have two legs.”

“JJ, please stop.”

“I appreciate the discretion, Daryl.”

He self-destructed right in front of me. JJ grabbed a drink off an unsuspecting member and chugged it down before tossing the glass on the floor.

In the end, JJ was always going to be JJ. I saw the moment he decided to destroy everything we had. It was a slight shift in his body and that penetrating gaze of his hardened into a cruel amusement. JJ shrugged my hand off his, before his eyes flitter across the crowd as though he's looking for someone. Then I watched as they landed on a familiar brunette. 

“Hey, let him go. I’m a member of this club and I invited him.” Kie shouted at Darryl who paused for a brief moment. I could see her parents trying to discreetly get her to stop but Kiara refused. At the sound of her words, an appreciative grin tugged at JJ’s lips.

It didn’t matter that I had said the same thing hours ago. It didn’t matter that I not only defended him but made him a member. I liked shiny flashy things and she didn’t. Apparently, that made her better than me.

“Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie.” He shouted, pointing at where she stood in front of her parent’s. “Pope, you as well, alright?”

I had a disposition for loving people too much, no matter how they treated me. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t care that I wasn’t presentable. I didn’t care that tears were falling down my face or that my hair was a mess. I didn’t want to be left behind. He promised.

“Let me come-”

Exasperation filled his features. "Take a fucking hint. You can go be with someone like Rafe now. You two deserve each other."

“Alright, Kie c’mon.” He didn’t spare me a second glance. I had to watch as Kie took off running towards him with Pope in tow. JJ held out his arms to catch her, arms she happily jumped into. John B lets out a humored shout while JJ spins Kiara around and they take off.

Leaving me all by myself. My parents nowhere in sight. 

And suddenly everything hit me at once. My dress was too tight, my heels were pinching at the skin on my feet, the music was too loud, my hair was a mess. Nothing I did was right. Once again, I was left alone. Abandoned by the one person I thought would never leave. All because I loved him too much and he hated everything I couldn’t control.

I stood there, feeling like a silly little girl in a silly little dress I spent hours looking for, urging him to look back. He never did. 

Authors note: I hope I hurt your feelings because I hurt my own writing this :) pls let me know what u think!!! I love hearing from you guys

Tagging my favs: @maybankslover @sipsthecoffee @alyisdead

[risuola]

▶ CATORU — stealing Suguru's clothes just feels natural, they're comfy and cozy and they smell like him, but thing is - his hoodies are black... and Satoru's hair is white.

contents: fluff; college!au, roommates, polyamorous relationship — 1k words

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Geez, you really need to brush that cat out,” your best friend commented, plucking a white hair off your black hoodie once you dropped down onto the couch next to her placing the wine glasses, totally not regular glasses, and a bottle on the table. You invited her for the first time after you moved into the new apartment. It was a celebration of your new place, successfully passed exams and just a nice opportunity to catch up on life.

“Cat?” You looked at her; confusion apparent in your eyes and she pointed at the hairs in her fingers, few short, snow-white strands that she collected from you and surroundings. It wasn’t unusual – you had a habit of stealing Suguru’s clothes (and they are usually black), and Gojo has a habit of nuzzling into you, demanding head scratches so it’s only natural that his white hairs stick to you and are quite visible. “Ah, that cat. Yeah, I really need to brush him out. Or maybe I’ll just shave him, I don’t know yet.”

The thought made you giddy inside, it really cracked you up. Before that, you never realized that your friend had no idea what kind of relationship you are in. You never hid it from her, you openly told her about the three of you doing things together, but somehow, the possibility of you sharing your life with Suguru and Satoru at the same time flew over her head. You also are quite openly affectionate with both of your boys, but it’s possible that once your friend saw you kissing Geto, she automatically categorized your interactions with Gojo as purely friendly. You were not even sure if she ever had a chance to see you with your white-haired princess.

“It’s cute you and Geto took a white kitten. It’s because of Gojo, right?” She smiled cutely, throwing the hairs away as you poured her some of the cheap prosecco.

“Yeah, the kitten is definitely reminding us of Satoru.” You laughed softly, taking your own glass to your lips. “Our little Catoru.”

“Awww, that’s adorable,” she squealed, savoring the taste of pinkish liquid. “How is he dealing with it, by the way?”

“Dealing with what?”

“You know, how’s Gojo dealing with the fact you stole his best friend? I was wondering, is he okay with you being and living with Suguru? They are pretty much joined at the hip.” She was curious, genuinely, and you can tell she really has no clue, so you decided to play along.

“I mean, Satoru is doing great, you don’t need to worry.”

“’ts good,” your bestie exhaled with some kind of relief, and you couldn’t shake off the amusement off your shoulders. You wondered how she would react to the revelation of your polyamorous relationship. Would she be surprised? In your eyes, it was only natural to accept both Satoru and Suguru into your life, the boys are inseparable, you couldn’t date one without dating the other. That was just the way it is, the packaged deal, the law of nature if you will. “Is your boyfriend home?”

“Sugu? He has martial arts training today. Will be back later. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re my guest,” you reassured her and the conversation went smoothly from that point. You talked a little about everything, about college, about teachers and recent exams, about love life and your recent dates.

“Is Gojo always third-wheeling you two?” She asked when you were telling her about your last movie night. The one that got all three of you deadly backpain afterwards because you all fell asleep on the couch in a position that even got Suguru and his super trained, stretched and fit body suffering. It’s better not to recall how you and Satoru felt.

“Sometimes I feel like I am third-wheeling them,” you laughed, “but yea, we’re actually–“

“Can I see the cat?” Your friend cut you off, suddenly all excited. “God, I completely forgot about him, can I see that fluffball?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure the cat is sleeping and you know, that fluffball gets grumpy when woken up.”

“Pleeeaaaase, I promise, I won’t wake it up. I just want to see the little Catoru, he must be adorable.”

With an exhale you decided to give in. You knew Satoru had a rough night, he got back home in the morning after a visit at his parents’ house and you know his family can be pretty distressing. Now he’s probably sleeping it off, but just a quick visit shouldn’t hurt. With that thought you took your friend to your bedroom.

“Just please, don’t scream, okay? He’s dead tired.” You half-whispered, before opening the doors. She nodded and you peeked inside, just to make sure the cat wasn’t sprawled naked on the bed or something and once sure that it’s safe, you walked in, carefully placing your steps to make as little noise as possible.

Satoru was sleeping, tightly cocooned in blankets with only his head visible from the nose up. He was really worn out, you could tell by the way he was breathing, so deeply and heavily what only happened when he was exhausted. You crouched next to the bed, gently running your fingers through his hair and he purred something, automatically leaning into your touch. Satoru could be at his death bed and would still search for your warmth.

“Do you need something?” You asked quietly, brushing little circles onto his scalp. He made some kind of noise that sounded a little like a no, and you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “If you do, just call me, baby, I’ll be next door.”

Satoru purposefully uncovered the lower half of his face so you could give him a peck, and once he got that, he turned back to his cocoon. You whispered him a little love you, got up and left, leading your visibly stoked friend back to the living room. She was shocked, but at the same time it looked like a realization was hitting her hard and you saw in real time how her expression was changing.

“That was the cat?” She whisper-screamed.

“Yup.”

“So you and Geto and Gojo—?"

“Yup.”

“Like, all three of you?”

“Yes,” you chuckled, pouring her more wine. “I actually had no idea that you don’t know. I thought we’re quite obvious.”

“Now as I think about it, you kinda were… I’m gonna need more wine.”

“I’ll text Suguru.”

taglist: @gojos-thot-patrol-main , @chuluoyi

[shes2real]

DILF ♡

Featuring 🌷: randy orton + female!reader

Warning ☁️: unprotected p in v, breeding kink, actual breeding, pregnancy mentions, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, praise kink, daddy kink if you blink, creampie, 18+ Minors, please don’t interact. Thanks! ୨୧

Word count 🌷: 1.5k

Scenario ☁️: Seeing how much Randy loves his children, you’re ready to give him another.

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As the gentle breeze swirled around the backyard, your daughter happily presented her father with the dainty princess-themed tea cup, filled with imaginary tea. "This is for you, daddy," she declared, her voice filled with excitement.

Grinning from ear to ear, your husband, Randy accepted the gift with exaggerated enthusiasm. It was his first weekend off in weeks, and even though he was known as the viper at work, genuinely he was a gentle giant who’d give the world to his family.

The backyard was transformed into a scene straight out of a storybook, with knick-knacks scattered around, juices, and a tea party in full swing. Your daughter, dressed in her princess attire, had insisted that everyone dress up for the occasion. Even your son, in his miniature tuxedo onesie, looked the part of a young prince. As the hostess, your daughter took her role seriously, instructing everyone to raise their pinkies with manners. When she noticed her daddy struggling, she let out a sigh, rolling her eyes.

“Noo! Like this," she instructed, guiding his pinkie into the correct position with a firm tiny hand.

"My apologies, princess.” He replied, his tone mockingly solemn as he attempted to mimic his daughter's etiquette, barely suppressing a chuckle.

Watching the scene unfold before you, your heart swelled with love. The bond shared between your children and your husband made all the challenges of life worthwhile. You knew that your family was ready for the next chapter, and the idea of welcoming another baby filled you with excitement and anticipation.

As the Sunday sun began to set, your family left the backyard behind and went inside of the house for dinner. As you busied yourself with tidying up after dinner, your mind drifted to thoughts of expanding your family, of bringing another little one into the world. It was a dream you had since you were a little girl, creating a large family. Randy could sense the shift in your mood,

"Hey, beautiful, you alright?" he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind, you leaned into his embrace, "Just thinking," you replied softly.

"About us, about our family... about maybe adding another little one to the mix."

His lips brushed against your temple in a tender kiss, his embrace tightening ever so slightly. "Is that really what you want, baby?” You nodded before he kissed your lips and headed into the living room. You all settled onto the plush sofa, ready to indulge in a Disney movie. After a very chaotic bath time and a quick change into their pajamas—your daughter sporting her favorite princess-themed set and your son snug in a baby shark set—everyone cozied up under a blanket.

As the evening wore on, the excitement of the day caught up with your children, the soft snores and heavy breathing signaled that they had succumbed to sleep. Your daughter, with her curls tumbling around her face, laying nestled against your side, while your son, his tiny fingers curled around Randy's hand, snuggled close to his chest. Exchanging a tender glance with your husband, "They’re so cute," you murmured, a contented smile playing at the corners of your lips.

He nodded, his arm draped around your shoulder. "Yeah, they are," he replied, "We did a damn good job."

Tonight felt like the perfect moment to start expanding your family with Randy, especially with the realization that you were currently ovulating, a fact you'd discovered earlier on your period tracker app.

After tucking your children into beds, you and Randy finally found yourselves alone in the intimacy of your shared bedroom. As you applied lotion to your skin, you couldn't help but notice Randy's intense gaze as he lounged on the bed,

"What's on your mind today?" he inquired, his voice laced with curiosity and affection.

You smiled coyly, reclining onto the bed and propping your feet on his thighs. "Whatever do you mean, hubby?" you teased, enjoying the sensation of his hands beginning to massage your tired feet.

Randy chuckled softly, his fingers expertly kneading the pressure points of your feet. "You've been acting a bit...distracted lately," he observed, pausing to glance up at you. "The kids aren’t the only ones missing their daddy, huh?" he quipped, his gaze lingering on you with playful amusement.

You hummed appreciatively at his touch, before guiding the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Well, can you blame me?" you countered with a mischievous grin. "You're such a dilf."

Caught off guard by your candid remark, Randy's laughter rumbled through the room,

"Touché,"

His playful demeanor softened, replaced by a more serious tone as he spoke. "About earlier," he began, his voice gentle yet firm. "Are you sure about this? I mean, really sure?"

You knew that Randy's career often took him away from home for long stretches of time, leaving you to shoulder much of the responsibility for raising your children alone. And with the guilt he carried for not always being there and missing out on treasured moments, you understood his apprehension.

"I just don't want you to feel overwhelmed, especially with me not always being around," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret.

"We'll figure it out together," you reassured him, "With you being home, even if it's just for a little while, means everything to us."

Without saying another word, he gently takes your feet off of his lap and easily spreads your legs so he’s hovering on top of you. He leans in until his nose is almost touching yours, and he kisses you sweetly, “I love you baby.”

Reaching in between you two, his fingers travel to your bare pussy. As he runs a finger across your slit you begin trembling at his delicate touches. As your eyes met his, a lust filled haze taking over, Randy smirks.

“Ready for me, huh?” he mutters as he begins to trace circles on your clit, “So wet,” he coos, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you.

He massages your insides gently at first before he begins to scissor his fingers inside of your pussy. As he fucks his fingers into you, you gasp as each pump knocks the air from your lungs, “Jussttt like that…takin’ my fingers so good.”

You feel his words in the pit of your stomach as that little knot forms causing you to announce your climax, “Oh! Fuck- ‘m cumminggg!”

“Yeah, I know you are.”

As you clenched around his fingers, you felt your cum running out of you. He never stopped helping you ride out your high, his thumb soothing your clit. He pulls his fingers out of you causing you to gasp from the empty feeling, Randy takes this opportunity to put his fingers into your mouth. You watch him intently as you roll your tongue around his fingers, cleaning them of your slick, his eyes never leaving yours.

Randy quickly removes his boxers before running his shaft up and down your slippery cunt, you softly moaned as he pushed his length in. "So beautiful, baby" He whispers as he begins to stroke inside of you.

"Hnnn...." You whine as your legs voluntarily spread wider.

“How does it feel, hm?”

"Ohhh..." you moaned, your eyes shutting tightly.

Randy rests there, just for a moment, before speaking again, “Open your mouth, tell me how it feels.”

Reaching for his waist, you desperately try to get him to move again, “So good! Fuck me, please..”

Randy smirks as he begins fucking you roughly. Biting your lip, you try to control your moans trying not to wake the kids."That's it, baby," he says, voice soft, in a soothing tone. "Such a good girl."

His words have you clenching around him. He grunts in between thrusts resting his forehead on yours before he starts giving you slow, deep strokes, “You close?”

In response you wrapped your legs tightly around him, covering your mouth. He kissed you as he sped up, hitting your spot perfectly with more force. You pushed him back, moaning hoarsely, “I-I..Ran-“

He pulls out of you, rubbing your clit as you begin to squirt. "You’re okay baby, let it out. I knooow." He cooes. With the pleasure and sensitivity coursing through your body, you could barely breathe.

Gently sliding back inside of you, your breath hitches as he goes deeper and deeper inside of you. Tears begin to roll down your cheek as he rolls his hips rhythmically into you.

"Look at me." He said as your eyes locked onto his, never letting your contact break even as he begin to fuck you harder.

“Gonna look so beautiful with my baby in you…” He groaned before pressing down on her stomach.

“You feel me, right here?” He looked at you as you nodded, moaning out in bliss.

“I’ma have you walkin’ round full of daddy’s cum,” Randy strokes began to get deeper, “You want that baby?”

Your eyes were in the back of your skull as you felt your orgasm. “Yes! Fuckk- I love you, I love you, I love you!” You chanted as a wave of pleasure ripped through your body. As your legs tightened around his waist, he stilled and released his load inside you. He slowly pulled out, semen pouring from your swollen pussy. His thick fingers pushed his cum back inside of you as you whimpered at the feeling of his seed in your womb. You sighed happily, knowing that your husband granted your wish.

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Thanks for reading babe ☁️🌷

・❥ ・ @kumapassion @romanreignsbae @pittieprincess22 @cyberdejos2 @xoxoril3yyy @rwbypatootie @solefae @adoreesun @alyyaanna @shantinextdoor @zombiedixon89 @nashalis97-blog @browneyedgirlfriend4l @girlnred @theasiaabattoir @glitterywitchstarlight @brienivl @melaninpvssypoppin

[babyjakes]

dreamy undoing.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | april '23 ddlg-themed blurb night

summary | when you need it most, ransom knows exactly how to clear out your pretty little head.

pairing | daddy!ransom drysdale x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. soft sweet doting daddy!ransom. toys: warming cream, clit pump, vibe, butt plug. fingering. soo much praise, a little dumbification, lots of "shhhhh"s which are my favorite hehe <3. reader cries a little but only due to pleasure. reader is tied up. multiple orgasms, squirting.

word count | 1,517

requested by 🫧 anon | Life has been so stressy lately and I just know that Daddy Ari or Daddy Andy (or any Daddy you feel like writing!) would put together the perfect plan to wipe all the stressy thoughts from their little one’s brain. Daddy would make sure she feels all safe and little first, and then maybe tie her up to show her some new toys he got for her as he tells her that he’s going to use them to make all her stress go away. By the end, all she can do is come and squirt over and over and over again as daddy makes her make a big big mess.

an | ohh bestie i'm so glad you sent in a toy request, i have been craving a good toy fic and this was perfectly timed for blurb night!! hope it's alright with you that i chose ransom, i just love him and miss him and always think of him first when it comes to toys hehe <3 also?? this was supposed to be just a quick lil blurb but the adhd medication got me completely carried away..... hope you enjoy >:-)

"There you go baby— shhh," Ransom's voice is the softest, sweetest thing you've ever heard as his gentle fingers spread the yummy-scented cream all over your poor little button. Your legs twitch against the ropes holding you open and spread wide for your daddy. Though you're all tied up in quite a punishing position, this is not a disciplinary session. Instead, the restraints are simply there for your safety, for your comfort. Ransom knows this is exactly what you need after such a grueling week of school and work; all he wants to do is let his pretty baby's mind melt away to nothing as he rewards her endlessly for all the hard work she's been doing.

"Mmm... Daddy," you mumble. Ransom hums along with you as he rolls your tiny knot of nerves between his fingers, the effects of the special cream not taking long at all to be felt. "Th-thank you Daddy, feels so nice, feels—"

"Shhh— you're welcome, baby," the dark-haired man leans his head in to press a kiss against your forehead as he works your sensitive clit with his fingers. "You just let Daddy take care of you, hmm? Don't have to worry about a single thing, sunshine. Need to empty out that pretty little head of yours, s'not good for a tiny baby like you to be doin' so much thinkin'."

From the little pile of toys he has sitting next to you on the bed, he grabs your favorite pump next. It's a simple device with a round plastic cup for your clit, connected to a small bulb that allows your daddy to work the suction manually. As Ransom uses his fingers to spread you out gently, fitting the toy into its place, your toes curl in excitement. "Need to get your sweet little button all puffy and ready for Daddy to play with, right baby?" he smiles as he sucks your poor clit up with a squeeze, earning an eager nod from you as he wiggles the pump carefully, making sure the seal is air-tight.

"Bet that feels nice— huh, princess?" he croons knowingly as he grabs the next toy: your pretty pink plug, custom-made with genuine Swarovski crystals embedded in the base. "Don't worry, angel. Gonna get it nice and slick for you, make sure nothing hurts for my pretty little girl." Eyeing your dripping folds, he hums in approval. "Such a good girl, getting so messy for me already."

Your mind floats safely through your tiny headspace as Ransom preps the plug with plenty of lubricant, earning a quiet whimper from you as he begins rubbing the blunted tip up against your puckered hole. "Easy baby, shhh," he soothes you once more, bringing one hand up to tap against the hard plastic encasing your clit as the other begins working the plug into you. He releases the pump before squeezing it again and again at a quick, teasing pace, your poor puffy button getting sucked up over and over by the tool.

Your breaths deepen, heart thumping faster and faster as your clit pulsates in pleasure, the sensation of the plug stretching you out in your most sensitive of places bringing you closer and closer to the edge in little time at all. Attentive as always, Ransom senses your growing arousal with ease. "Good girl, that's my sweet little y/n. That feel nice, baby? You like it when Daddy plays with your clit and plugs up your pretty little bottom? Poor little girl— so tight, aren't you?" he mocks pity, the heat in your tummy growing as he slides the plug in and out of your burning hole, letting it stretch you out as far as it can without quite giving you the satisfaction of inserting it fully to sit nicely in its intended place.

"P-please Daddy," you pout, bottom lip trembling as he toys with your ass, letting out a gasp as he sucks your needy button up fully again before plunging two thick fingers into your neglected cunt. "O-oh Daddy... thank you Daddy, I— please, please Daddy..." Ransom grins at the sound of your increasing desperation. The first orgasm is always his favorite; he loves dragging it out, watching as it creeps up slowly, then before either of you know it, all at once.

"There you go, babygirl. Just needed this pretty little pussy filled up, huh?" he sings, the pads of his fingers curling up against your tender ceiling as you grit your teeth, tears building in your eyes as you pass the point of no return.

"Please Daddy, I-I'm gonna— please," you heave.

"Go ahead, baby," Ransom murmurs, giving you a knowing nod as he works his hands faster, bringing you right to orgasm at his simple command, "cum for me. Theere," he hums, a satisfied look washing over his face as he witnesses you coming completely undone before him.

Clenching down against the plug and your daddy's fingers, you completely let go, gushing steadily against his ministrations. Your climax is long, steady, and intense, pathetic whimpers sputtering out of you once you finally begin to drift back down to earth. Ransom carries you through it with care, working your most sensitive places as long as he can to give you as pleasurable of an orgasm as possible. Only when you're finally winding down does he slow, bringing his drenched fingers up to his lips to taste your sweet juices.

"So good for me, angel," his voice is low, tender as he finally pushes the plug in fully, watching as it nestles itself perfectly into place against your trembling rosebud. Free hand coming up to rub your tummy gently, he coos as it still spasms lightly from your euphoric high. "So proud of you, sweetheart. Did so well for Daddy, that feel good?"

"Mhmm," you hum, gazing at him through half-closed lids as you soak in the dreamy waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins. "So good, thank you Daddy," you mewl sweetly.

"You're so welcome, little one. Now let's see here," he muses, bringing his attention back up to your clit as it sits swollen in its clear cage. "Oh my," he breathes as he lets it out of the pump with a pop, the magic workings of the device and the cream visible as the little bundle of nerves now sits completely exposed and hardened, just begging to be loved on. "So puffy, baby. Look at you," he enthuses, placing a hand behind your head to bring it forward, forcing you to look at your poor, abused sex.

"S-so puffy," you agree, eyes widening as he reaches for the bottle of lube, gently dripping some down against the knot of flesh. The sensation of the cool liquid hitting your most sensitive spot brings tears to your eyes once more.

"Think I've bullied your poor little button enough, huh?" he frowns as he grabs a small, cordless wand from beside you— another favorite. "Think it deserves some relief. What do you say, princess?"

"Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy," you drool as you rest your head back against the pillows once more, the sound of the wand switching on already overwhelming you with anticipation.

Pressing three fingers into your messy heat this time, Ransom gives no warning before bringing the head of the wand down to begin working over your clit. You jolt at the intensity, earning a light chuckle from the dark-haired man as he begins pumping his digits in and out of you once more, singing, "There, that's what you needed, isn't it? Just needed Daddy to tie you down and let you cum? How long d'you think you'll last this time, sweetheart?" he wonders aloud.

But you're already teetering towards the edge again, the wand being swirled over your throbbing clit in slick, steady circles enough to make your mind go completely numb. And that's all Ransom wants; that's all he's wanted from the beginning: to reduce you down to nothing but whimpers and moans, a drippy, darling mess at the mercy of his skilled hands. "Please... please..." Your vocabulary is shrinking by the second as his fingers speed up against your burning walls.

"You don't have to beg, baby. You can cum, can cum as many times as you need. Daddy's gonna take care of you, sunshine," he promises as you reach your second high, tears and spit dribbling down your chin as you squirt out against your daddy's hands once more. He praises you softly and sweetly, letting you ride out your orgasm for as long as you can. Your juices crackle against the hum of the vibrator as you squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding in your throat as you wait seconds, minutes, what feels like forever for the ripples of pleasure to finally subside.

"Hmmph... Daddy..." your own voice sounds miles away from you as you stay in your daze, head entirely somewhere else as you feel the wand being run up and down your soaked slit.

"Daddy's here, angel. Doin' so good for me— let's see if you can give me another one, hm?"

quietly tagging @onsunnyside in dis bc. dis is puff puff behavior fr.

[tubborucho]

Epilogue:

Team Soulfire genuinely is first in forever platonic dynamic I got obsessed with. I love a lot of them, but Blue Team… They are so special to me, I can’t explain it properly.

I loved each of them. Fact: Blue (before Green being dissolved) is the only team that had every single one of the members to log in AT LEAST once. Which is crazy, considering all the logging in problems we had some days. But it was awesome. Better than I could ever imagine.

Everything that they built together makes me smile even from thinking about it. The Old Base that constantly has been in use throughout the whole time no matter what. The New Base… The New Base genuinely feels like home. It’s been so cosy and pretty and safe. Nobody has found it at the end! It held it purpose til the last moment.

Trousers. Coco. Caramel. Bertie. Rupert. Scoob. Luffy. All the Little Buddies that supported Blue throughout the Purgatory. I will love you forever.

The discovery of the potential that Tubbo and Bad hold as a duo. Prime, I am PRAYING that Bad and Dapper are okay. I love them to death AND i need Tubbo spend more time with Dapper, I think they would be hilarious as a duo. Plus I just enjoy Tubbo and Bad’s interactions. Throughout the years of being on same SMPs and in the same events it was the first time they got to properly play with each other, and it’s amazing.

TINA!!! Omg, q!Tina, you will always be a legend. Man, I think she might share her the place of my second favorite resident with Bad now (first is Tubbo, obviously). I will definitely try to keep up with her character and lore further. She is amazing.

I can honestly talk about each and one of the members. I maybe will at some point. Right now I am genuinely in tears from all the emotional roller coaster it was. I don’t know how to move on, honestly. I hope people will keep making content with Team Soulfire, even if it’s over. I know I will at least make some web weaves. and check the tag religiously.

On that note, oh my god, thank you SO MUCH to everyone for this journey. We had a lot of rough moments with the toxicity, but overall I will not remember that when I think of those days, I will remember how many amazing people I got to properly interact with on the base of our cubitos being stuck together under the blue flag.

Genuinely, especially it goes to BBH Mains. Guys, no matter what happens between our cubitos further, it was an honor to stand by your side, and I hope you know I adore your guy and you all. And it makes me so happy to see so many positive reactions and posts about Tubbo and his cubito!

This was draining emotionally, but this also was amazing. I think I am still somewhat riding the high of the Amazing Victory of Blue That One Day lmao.

We will see how it goes.

[heesblanket]

hii! can I request a Zhanghao enemies to lovers? 👀 maybe oneshot, please? 🙏🏼

thought all day about how i'm gonna write this one so i hope you enjoy it 🤭

genre: enemies to lovers - Zhang Hao

characters: Zhang Hao, Hanbin, Jiwoong, Gyuvin, Ricky

YOUR NAME?

School just ended meaning summer is coming. Hanging out with my friends and doing the most random stuff like always.

Beefing with Gyuvin every second I get, Ricky buying me anything just to shut me up, Hanbin finally not getting stressed over exams and Jiwoong having the urge to tell us the most random stuff he learned about the day before. Awww how much i missed this.

Ohh and also Zhang Hao. We are not on good terms. No one knows why, nor do I but it has been like this for 2 years now. Not talking with each other, and if we do, well... let's just say it's not good idea. We don't have much to talk about anyway, we have the same friends so the tension between us is usually broke down by Gyuvins rapid mood outbursts or Jiwoongs random scientific facts.

"Heyy y/n" Gyuvin screaming at me as i was approaching them. Greeting my friends like usual, giving little nod to Zhang Hao in front of me, him not returning this action. I dont even know why im greeting him today as we don't greet each other.

"Soo, i was thinking" Hanbin starting off his sentence. I didnt really pay attention to him as i noticed Zhang Hao intensely staring at me. Or so i thought. People behind me kicked a ball and was now flying right into me. Getting grabbed and pushed to the side by Zhang Hao so the ball wouldn't hit me. Somehow his arm ended around my waist, my whole back pressed against his chest.

"HEY, WATCH IT" Gyuvin already ready to fight anyone that tries to hurt me. Even though Gyuvin isn't the quietest person his actions speaks louder than him. And that's what i appreciate about him the most. He really acts like i'm his younger sister he needs to protect even though i'm older than him.

While I was still trying to understand what happened i was being pushed again. Zhang Hao letting of me from this awkward position, clearing his throat and that's when i realised in what position we were just now.

Trying not to be even more awkward i went to Gyuvin trying to calm him down. Yes, he was still yelling about "how they dare to kick a ball into me". This is what i mean when i say he is extra.

Of course my friends saw this whole interaction between us. They act like there's nothing between me and Zhang Hao even though it's the most oblivious thing ever.

When we were leaving to whatever place Hanbin mentioned while i was starting back at Zhang Hao, Ricky walked to me to walked with me. He obviously knows about this situation so i hope he won’t bring it up with what ever he is gonna say.

“soo- you and Zhang Hao will be on good terms soon?” aghh, how i hate his teasing voice.

“THAT was nothing, he just pushed me, nothing else” trying to lie to make me feel better.

“ohh, since when is being ‘pushed’ almost hugging huh?” i couldn’t bear to looks at him. You can hear his smirk already.

But i couldn’t answer him. Not that i didn’t want to but i genuinely didn’t know what to say. Zhang Hao was acting different this past few weeks when i look at it. Bringing me water to lunch, leaving doors open for me, there’s just something i didnt understood till now.

My thoughts were cut off when we arrived at our favourite park. The sun was setting down already making the sky all orangish-yellowish. I couldn’t look at the sky better as the others were already running towards ice cream shop. How did I forget. This is our tradition on the first day of summer.

We were walking away from the ice cream shop with our ice cream. Looking for free benches where we could sit. While we were walking towards them Hanbin dropped his ice cream. Normally, he wouldn’t care about it but Ricky insisted on buying him new one. Looking around me i realised, Jiwoong and Gyuvin aren’t here with us. They must have stayed in the ice cream shop. Hanbin, Ricky and his sneaky little smile leaving. Me and Zhang Hao sitting down on the benches.

The weird tension building up again. We knew that we had to talk about the stuff that happened lately. I wanted to speak up but Zhang Hao beat me to it.

“i don’t know what came over me but i always act in the moment, just letting you know”

silence. I didnt know what to answer so the most simple thing came out of me.

“it’s okay”

Now this was evern more awkward. I had this weird courage to talk to him so i went for it.

“why do you treat me differently from others?” If you couldn’t tell Zhang Hao is everyone’s crush. He is the sweetest person towards them but somehow not to me. It did hurt a lot the first few weeks.

“huh? wdym, you acted all sassy towards me? i won’t be surprised if you hate”

“hate you? no no, YOU hate me! every since the first day”

“what, NO? you hate me! i wanted to talk to you cuz you seemed nice but you we’re acting all sassy” Nice? Did he just called me nice? To be honest that’s the only thing I caught.

“you think i’m nice?”

“well, i used to, but you are proving yourself wrong. But what about you and your sassy attitude towards me, huh?”

Here comes the problem. His so called “sassy” was me trying to impress him. I thought he would want to talk to me more if i was more confident, i guess not. Now i’m thinking, do i say the truth or do i think of something real quick? OH no, he is starting at me, come one y/n, THINK.

“ohh that, i was just trying to impress you, nothing else”

silence. Realisation hitting us both. We both tried to impress each other but we made hate ourselves. What a coincidence.

“well, these are news” Zhang Hao finally relaxing while finishing his ice cream.

We now sat in another silence. Not uncomfortable one, but i couldn’t help to ask him.

“do you want to start all over again?” Zhang Hao smiling at my idea. Damn, this is my first time seeing him smiling this close.

Zhang Hao already pulling out his hand for me to shake it

“Hi, nice to meet you, Im Zhang Hao

YOUR NAME?”

—————————————— cut

i hope you enjoy this one 🙈

i can do 2nd part if there is interest for it ^^

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Little Spider (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: There’s only so much denial a girl can offer before it all comes crashing down.

Words: 2122

Warnings: SMUT! Language.

A/N: Practicing for Kinktober maybe. I dunno.

@natasharomanoffswife​ @natasha-danvers​ @aaron-despair​ @username23345 @xjiasx​ @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova​ @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @imnotasuperhero @miscmarvelwritings @captain-josslett @onlyafewfindtheway @hayleyokami @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @evilcr0ne

-X-

Months ago the twitch in Yelena's brow would've made Kate scurry away with a panicked laugh, but right now, sitting in the Avenger's Compound, she couldn't stop from giggling sporadically at her embarrassed friend and floor-mate. It was absolutely ridiculous to see the extensively trained, cool former assassin gobsmacked and blushing as she fumbled to find a retort that was both scathing and dismissive of Kate's assessment.

"Admit it. You want (Y/N) to just slam you against a wall and fuck your brains out," Kate teased. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with that. She's sweet and strong and I bet she could lift you up the -"

"Shut up!" Yelena squeaked, glancing around the empty kitchen. "She is my sister's best friend. That would - that would be weird."

"That would be insanely hot," Kate argued. "Have you ever watched her train? Because I'm pretty sure every other living, breathing person in the Compound has outside of maybe Steve and Tony."

Noticing the flash of shame crossing Yelena's features, Kate sighed. She reached out, squeezing the blonde's wrist comfortingly.

"I know you're not good with your feelings considering the whole kill or be killed thing you did before this. But everyone around here seems to know you're special to (Y/N) except you. Of all the people she interacts with daily, there are exactly three people that she's given nicknames to. Everyone else is either being affectionately - or sometimes legitimately, depending on who's pissed her off that day - insulted or just called by our last names. She calls me Bishop so much that I forget I have a first name when we're on missions together."

Creases blossomed between her brows as she considered Kate's words.

"I -"

"Morning, ladies," Natasha greeted cheerfully, a tank-top clad you trailing behind with a tolerant smirk.

"Bishop."

You nodded, patting the Avenger-in-Training's hair playfully, ignoring her shriek of indignation at the ruffling of her neatly tied locks. As your gaze drifted to Yelena, your smirk softened into a genuine smile.

"Hello, little spider."

The gentleness in your voice stole the breath from her lungs, cheeks going aflame as Kate's assurances settled in her chest. It was easy to dismiss the signs when they weren't in front of her but she couldn't overlook the obvious differences from Kate to herself when they were presented so blatantly.

So lost in her own head, she barely registered a mouth nearing her ear until your hot breath caressed the reddened shell.

"You okay?" you whispered, a worried frown tugging at your lips. "You look upset."

"I am - I'm okay," she choked out, wincing at how unbelievable her reply sounded. "Just Kate being the annoying brat she is."

Countless lessons in lying yet she couldn't keep her voice from cracking under the pressure of your concerned probing. If only her handlers could see the mess she had become over a single woman.

"(Y/N), stop flirting with my sister. We're training new agents today and being late would be a terrible start. You can stick your tongue down her throat later when I can't see it," Natasha teased, earning a scathing glare from you, grinning at the startled noise that escaped her sister.

"Oh, as if I haven't walked in on you with your hand up Wanda's skirt. Appropriate payback, I would think," you hissed, pressing a lingering kiss to Yelena's cheek before righting yourself. “A little tongue… maybe some silicon.”

Grimacing at the thought of catching you in a similar position with the woman she'd protected since they were children, Natasha ushered you out of the kitchen. "Wanda isn't your sister."

"Close enough."

Waiting until the bickering faded, Kate studied the stunned blonde.

"Are you thinking about it now?"

"...yes."

Proud, Kate stole a piece of cold bacon from Yelena's plate and bit the end with a devious gleam in her eye. Not because Kate wanted it but because, for a split second, she was faster than Yelena – which was a complete first – and she was planning to take advantage of the few moments of victory she had.

"See? Told you. Hot."

-X-

           Strolling into the training room with a false sense of confidence and one thought in mind, Yelena made sure no stray agents waiting to garner your attention before meeting you near the punching bag; the same bag she'd watched you hit a hundred times. The same bag she'd often stayed near whenever you spoke with her after a workout session.

Where she realized she'd fallen in love with you.

Sensing the blonde Widow, you threw a final hit before turning to face her with the barest hint of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

"Hello, spi -"

Yelena's lithe body slamming into yours nearly knocked you to the ground but quick footwork kept you both from hitting the floor, arms tight around her waist while her hands grasped at the base of your neck desperately. An incessant mouth met yours in a fierce, needy dance that you never hesitated to participate in, tongues acquainting while you tried to understand the sudden change.

You would never complain about Yelena wanting to kiss you, but you’d anticipated a long talk about feelings – walking her through the strongest of them, like you had with Natasha when she was dealing with the emotions she felt whenever Wanda was near – before ever reaching this moment but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She panted into your mouth, pliant and soft in your embrace as she silently begged for more. To lose control and let you hold the reins, merely a puppet to the pleasure.

Nimble digits wandered up her torso, wrapping delicately around her flushed throat as you kept her mouth firmly against yours. You weren't surprised that Yelena was submissive in moments of passion, always following in her sister’s footsteps. Natasha had drunkenly admitted one night that she felt safer not being in the seat of power; their training had never given them a chance for weakness - for a lack of control in any situation - so there was something wondrous in offering that to another person. Letting someone they trust give orders.

Yelena's moan sent fire careening through your blood and it took everything within you to slow the kiss to a simple brushing of lips.

"We should talk," you murmured, fighting the urges coursing through you.

"I don't want to talk," Yelena whispered. "I want you."

Growling low in your throat, your lips drifted from her mouth to her ear, capturing the lobe between sharp teeth. Tongue carefully stroking around the piercing residing there, you trailed them along the shell as your hand slipped from her neck into her blonde tresses.

“Are you sure you want this? Because I have no issues fucking you on the mat beneath our feet if you’re serious,” you murmured, the dangerous promise leaving her panties soaked with arousal but also warming her chest. Even now she knew that if she changed her mind – despite the intensity of the moment – you would just as easily stop.

Because she was still your first priority.

Grabbing the hand gripping her hip possessively, she slid it under her shirt and you couldn’t help the breathless moan that tickled her flesh. Fingers danced over puckered scars but you paid little attention to them, knowing the self-consciousness she felt despite assuring her for months that everyone had their scars.

Some were just more visible than others.

“Fuck it,” you exhaled, bending slightly to sink your teeth into the long expanse of her throat.

Gasping, her eyes flew shut as her head tilted back to accommodate the bites and kisses you painted across pale skin. Her knees shook as a skilled hand slid beneath her bra, kneading her breast in a way that left her head swimming. She’d never been touched like this before – actually wanting the person touching her so intimately – so it was a thrilling, albeit terrifying experience. She’d used her body as a tool, back when she was still under the control of the Red Room, but this was something special.

Meaningful.

“FRIDAY, activate protocol Spymaster,” you commanded before licking a stripe across the reddened skin your teeth had abused.

Yelena paused, her nails scoring the tank adorning your figure as she stifled a laugh. “Spymaster?”

Humming, your hand fell from her hair and joined the other at the hem of her shirt. “It’s a non-emergency lockdown. I use it whenever I don’t want anyone coming into the training room. Tony designed it specifically for me after trainees kept pestering me. Only a spymaster could break in at this level.”

Helping Yelena free herself from the confines of her shirt, your gaze drifted low across her bared midriff. She was a stunning masterpiece of pale skin that held the history of a lifetime. A widow peeked just above the waistband of her jeans and you chuckled, remembering how excited the sisters were after they’d gotten it.

Letting your fingers trail across the black ink, your mouth met hers again, swallowing the soft whimper as you traced along the tattooed area. Your free hand reached behind, deftly unclasping her bra with practiced ease, feeling it shift between you as Yelena pressed closer to your body.

“You’re wearing so many clothes,” she whined petulantly, the material of your shirt rough against her overheated body.

Smirking, you broke apart just enough to fling the baggy cover away with a flourish. “Sincerest apologies, love.”

Before she could respond to your playful sarcasm, you brought her into your grasp and carefully lowered her to the floor, one arm locked around her while the other kept you from crashing onto a training mat.

I should definitely clean this before training tomorrow or Nat will murder me and use my body as a training dummy.

Time moved both too fast and not fast enough as you both shed what clothing remained. Pants and shoes were shoved aside, Yelena’s panties tossed somewhere you’d likely never find them –

(But her darling sister would, tomorrow, and attempt to strangle you with them once everyone was gone, yelling at you for defiling her baby sister in the training room while praising you at the same time for admitting your feelings. It is a very confusing conversation for you, only worsened by dodging quick hands and weights that were thrown with a perfect – miserably so – accuracy).

Your mouth left constellations only the two of you would ever see, tasting every curve and dip of her body as you explored the willing woman splayed out across the padded surface. Her grip on your hair was damn near painful but you were content to let her tug as she writhed and moaned beneath you.

“I want to taste you,” you whispered, sinking lower but not taking the step as you waited for a response.

You’d wait a lifetime for this woman, honestly.

“Please,” she begged softly, eyes bleary with lust and something deeper as she stared at you pleadingly. “Do whatever you want. I’m yours.”

The cry that rang out as your tongue met swollen, throbbing flesh left nothing but heat in your belly and a need to drive Yelena wild. You’d never been as desperate and determined as you were in that moment, every heavy stroke or teasing flick earning a new reaction that you silently took note of. Nothing would’ve been capable of dragging you away from her, the urge to offer as much pleasure as possible primal and encompassing.

You could’ve stayed there forever, tongue and lips drawing out as much pleasure as they could, but the tension working through her body kept you focused on the goal at hand.

“Fuck, fuck…” her moans trailed off into unintelligible gibberish as she bucked violently, arousal coating your face as she tipped over the edge into blissful fire.

In that moment, you decided there was nothing prettier than seeing her come so undone. Body flushed and covered in sweat, you couldn’t stop staring at her as you stroked her through the comedown.

“That was…” you smirked, so proud of yourself that you couldn’t really finish your thought as you cleaned her need off your face.

“Hot. So fucking hot,” Yelena mumbled.

“I mean, Bishop sure thought so,” you teased, feeling her tense for an entirely different reason this time as your chin rested on her stomach. “Though a training mat isn’t nearly as interesting as a wall, I suppose.”

“You –”

“Yes.” You kissed her hip sweetly, slowly working up her body before you were face to face with the blushing blonde. “But she’s correct, little spider; wall sex is very appealing. We’ll have to try it sometime.”

“…oh my.”

[burnin0akleaves]

Hey! Sorry for popping in as anon, I'm genuinely not sure if some of the things I'm going to say are going to be nice, and I am a coward. But this is regarding you quitting to post in the RA fandom. If you consider my opinion on this as unwanted/unnecessary, do not feel obliged to reply. (Though I honestly think you never feel like that anyway)

I first saw your art when I joined the RA tag a while ago, and I thought to myself: 'Huh. Nice art, not my cup of tea though.' Since then, you have changed my mind. Your obsession with TRR Will and repeated posting about it not only has changed my thoughts on your art (I've really grown to like it) but also on the character of Will himself. I was on Reddit during that massive TRR Will hate phase and some of these posts had really tainted my view. You changed that and I am so grateful for that. Not seeing your art anymore will be sad, but I suppose my own lack of interaction is to blame for that. I made my bed so now I sleep in it. Your reaction to stop posting is justified and understandable, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to miss seeing your TRR Will on my dash.

Who knows what the RA movie (if it ever does come out) will do to this fandom, but I hope that new faces might get things swinging enough again for you to rejoin the fandom. Lastly, I have to say that for me, you've been a legend in this fandom, and will continue to be one, even if you focus on other things from now on.

Well hello there, this was unexpected. First of all thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to write to me! The reception to that post has been overwhelmingly positive even though it hasn't been up for that long and it makes me feel very glad I finally pushed myself to write that official goodbye message.

I don't know who you are and I don't really have any guesses, your message implies you didn't interact with my posts a lot so maybe I saw you around only a few times (?), but you have no idea how much this means to me. Throughout most of my time in the fandom my main goal was always to change people's minds about TRR and more specifically, TRR Will. I've heard that I succeeded many times and honestly, that was one of the biggest reasons I could keep myself so pumped up about a book series I read all the way back when I was in middle school (<- an adult saying this)

Seeing people go from "Cool post, not my thing though." to "Well I can kind of see what you mean when you say it like that." to "I agree, this does sound pretty good!" was both my biggest source of pride and motivator here. Hearing you say I changed your mind just now has the same effect on me, it almost makes me want to rush to my computer to draw or write about Will.

Also, extremely bold of you to say you didn't like my art at first motherfucker /j

Speaking seriously though, my art style practically grew here. When I first joined the fandom I was NOT good; hell, I can't look past anything before July of last year still. Maybe it was just me improving artistically that helped you warm up to my stuff more. I really really hope the new artists have that kind of experience too! You get obsessed with a little guy and then your brain decides to level up as fast as possible. TRR Will is that little guy for me.

Your last words are so, so kind. The way you speak about me here in general is extremely kind. I'm glad I was able to leave a good impression. And you're right, maybe all I need is a break and when I come back this space will feel more fitting again.

Like I said, I still have lots of connections to this fandom via others. I'm still technically helping out with the Gathering stuff, so maybe I'll work on doing a prompt or two still! I'm also a mod in the NSFW server and I love that place, I'm not leaving it anytime soon. If more TRR books come out you can bet I won't be able to shut up about them anyway, if I don't make at least one post then assume I'm dead.

What I'm trying to say is, I'll be around! Our paths will cross again.

PS: The entirety of the RA subreddit can suck my dick. I'm gatekeeping older, experienced Will from all of them. None of them deserve him.

[drawlfoy]

pink in the night P.3

masterlist 

series masterlist 

request guidelines

pairing: hufflepuffmuggleborn!reader x draco

summary: when y/n y/l/n starts having weird, recurring dreams about her long time unrequited crush in her 6th year, she begins to wonder where fantasies end and reality begins.

warnings: canon-typical violence, mature language, nsfw content, VERY dark themes of murder, grief, and coercion. i don’t know why i wrote this to be as dark as it was but i didn’t know how else to make it happen lol

a/n: hello my loves! long time no see! im so sorry for not really responding much to any messages/reblogs/replies/anons...work has been absolutely insane and i’ve had a lot on my plate. i’m also currently working on a dramione twilight au available on my ao3 and it updates weekly, so i’ve been placing more focus on that. 

nitty gritty: i am pushing this to be one more part, though it probably (?) won’t be as long as these first 3. and i promise a happy ending. all is not as it seems. if you’re a fan of our late evi’s turn, the ending of this particular part should remind you of something... 

wc: 10k

playlist

enjoy! 

“Ok. So let me get this straight.” Susan was pacing the room, her arms folded over her chest and her brows furrowed.”Draco Malfoy has been your make-believe boyfriend since the beginning of term, except for he’s really not make-believe and he’s actually your boyfriend? But only when you fall asleep.”

“It sounds worse when you put it like that,” defended Y/N, though she was glad that Susan was being a little testy. Arguing made it easier to forget what was actually going on. “The book Trelawney assigned me explains it all. Apparently hairline cracks in crystal balls can seriously mess things up. One of the symptoms can be recurring trips into an alternate dimension. I was thinking about Draco when I used the crystal ball, so it took him with me. It’s described as being closer to the dream realm than it is to what we understand to be reality, but it doesn’t make it any less real. Draco has been having the same dreams, too. I’m almost positive.”

“Isn’t this a good thing?” asked Susan. 

Y/N wanted to scream. “No! Because he’s definitely just going along with it as a distraction from whatever else is going on with his life. He doesn’t actually like me. He’s told me that himself.”

“He doesn’t like you, but he’s still shagging you?”

“Because I’m there,” hissed Y/N. “And I’m available, and I probably stroke his ego. And plus, he doesn’t think it’s actually me. He thinks it's a product of his subconsciousness, too. Just like I thought.”

“And I thought my Slytherin situation was complicated,” muttered Susan. 

“I genuinely don’t know how I’m ever going to face him,” said Y/N. “When I wasn’t doing, er, things with him, I was spending the rest of our time spilling my guts and giving him a retelling of our real interactions. He would look so smug, too. God, Susan, I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey,” said Susan, firm. “We’re going to get through this. He clearly doesn’t hate you. Maybe this is a good thing, Maybe it’ll push you two together.”

“And maybe I’ll win the lottery and figure out that I’m the long lost child of the Queen, too.”

“Listen.” Susan sounded frustrated now. “This is a good thing. You’ve at least caught his interest. He stares at you in class, you know. I thought that I was imagining it at first, but now I know I wasn’t. This is your shot. When you see him tonight—”

“If I see him!”

“If you see him,” Susan amended, “You have to do something about this. If he really makes you happy. Don’t let this opportunity go.”

Y/N sunk onto her bed, letting her face fall into her hands. “I’m a muggleborn. He would never really see me like that. If I tell him that it’s really me and that what we’ve been experiencing aren’t really dreams, he’d be ruthless.”

“You don’t have any other option. Don’t try and tell me that you’re going to enjoy seeing him at night now that you know that it’s really him. I also feel like there’s a consent issue there too, right?” 

“I suppose.” Y/N chewed on her lip. “Maybe…maybe I’ll just say it and see what happens.”

To her relief, the Hospital Wing was entirely empty apart from Madame Pomfrey when she entered later that afternoon, her cheeks flushed and her hands clammy.

“Miss Y/L/N,” said Pomfrey, giving her a lingering look. “I’ve been expecting you. Broken crystal ball, eh?”

“Yes.” Y/N wasn’t quite sure what to do with her arms as she stood in front of the much older woman, opting to clasp her hands firmly behind her back as she stared at the floor.

“Tell me, dear,” began Madame Pomfrey, ”How have you been sleeping?”

She knew that the answer was written clear across her face as she met Madame Pomfrey’s gaze. 

“Who do you see?” the witch pried.

“Er—” Y/N thought her nails were sure to draw blood, considering how hard they were pressed into the pillowy flesh of her palm. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

Madame Pomfrey’s eyebrows shot to the sky for the briefest of moments before they were schooled into submission. “Well. That’s certainly a surprise. Aren’t you a Muggleborn, my dear?”

“Yes,” answered Y/N. Surprisingly, none of the traces of judgment or disgust that Y/N came to expect when discussing boys with older women could be found on Pomfrey’s face. “I don’t understand why it happened. Do you…do you know more about it?”

“Come sit in my office. We can have a chat.” 

Madame Pomfrey prepared tea as Y/N picked at the crimson cushions of a worn armchair, separated from the hospital walls by a few thick curtains. 

“You were thinking of him when you used the ball, yes?”

“Yes,” Y/N answered honestly. “Well—I probably was. I think about him all the time.”

Madame Pomfrey nodded gravely. Y/N was struck by the oddity that was a situation where she was discussing her love life with the school nurse.

“Madame Pomfrey,” she began, “When I first started having the dreams, he would always come to me in his Quidditch robes. Even if it didn’t make any sense. But then all of a sudden he started appearing in his normal school robes. I wasn’t sure what that meant.”

“I’m sure the books don’t mention that,” said Madame Pomfrey. “I think that phenomenon is rather rare. It’s uncommon that this whole dream scenario occurs, too. You’re a medical miracle.”

“But do you know?”

“Though those aren’t quite dreams, there is still an element of mental manipulation that is at play.” She paused to hand Y/N a steaming cup of tea, the delicate china filled with a delicious smelling golden color. “Forgive me for my crudeness. You see, your mind brought you the version of Draco that you thought about the most. Or at least what he was wearing then.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the heat rush to her cheeks. In more straightforward terms, Madame Pomfrey had just told her that she dreamt of him in his Quidditch robes because she thought he looked hot in them. “Oh, Merlin. I’m sorry you had to spell that out for me.”

The smile that Madame Pomfrey sent her was amused. “That’s quite alright. I imagine that you’re very confused.”

“How do I stop it?” Horror washed over Y/N as something awful occurred to her. “Can I stop it?”

Madame Pomfrey turned around, the floral pattern of her robes swishing as she faced her desk. “Unfortunately,” she said, “The effects on your magical signatures can only be healed with time. But the ‘dreams’ will cease with this.”

She held out two vials.

“Why two?”

Madame Pomfrey gave her a knowing look.

“Oh, Merlin,” said Y/N, sure she was about to be sick. “Can’t you give it to him instead?”

“It would do you two good to work this out between yourselves,” said Madame Pomfrey. “Trust me.”

There was something in the gentle, maternal scrunch in the corner of the woman’s eyes that made Y/N trust her words. Even if she would rather eat dirt than talk to him about this in person.

“Does Trelawney know about the dreams? She only mentioned the magical signature to me.”

“I’m not sure,” admitted Pomfrey. “Like I said, it’s an uncommon occurrence.”

“Alright.” Y/N swallowed. “I’ll—I’ll be going then.”

That night, she tossed and turned in her bed for what felt like hours. Sleep just refused to take her as she rolled over on her mattress, repeatedly shoving her hands under the cooler parts of her pillow in an attempt to sooth her racing heart. Would she see him again?

“I don’t know where we are this time,” said a terrifyingly familiar voice, just when Y/N felt like she was going to drift off.

She shot to attention, clutching her duvet to her chest. Dream Draco sat next to her on her bed, his chin propped up on his palm as he watched her. 

Except for he wasn’t Dream Draco. The boy sitting mere inches away from her was Real Draco. He crept closer, his hands pressing into the bed on either side of her as he dipped his head down to kiss her jaw.

Real Draco was kissing her.

“This is my room,” Y/N blurted, hoping that Susan, who was sleeping soundly behind a curtain, would ignore her voice in this dimension. 

Draco’s lips detached from her neck as he sat back, his brows slightly furrowed. “What? How? I don’t know what your room looks like.” 

“I know,” said Y/N. The pounding of her heart pulsed in her ears. She wanted so, so badly to tell him, but she couldn’t do it. The words simply wouldn’t come out of her mouth. So she squeezed her eyes shut and kissed him properly. 

She would let herself have this, just this last time when she knew that it would never happen again. Once he knew she was real, that he had actually been involved with a muggleborn all this time, he would shun her.

When she finally pulled away from him, she studied his face, trying to find any traces of the Real Draco she’d come to know in Potions. His pupils were blown out, making his eyes an onyx black, and the porcelain pallor of his skin had been slightly sullied by a dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

He looked perfect.

“Is everything okay?” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush away a lock of hair that had fallen across her face.

“Why are you doing this?” she countered. 

“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed slightly.

“As in, why are you touching me?” she clarified. “I’m a muggleborn. I know you would never want me in real life. I know you don’t like me, either. So why are you doing it now?”

Draco seemed at a loss for words.

“You don’t have to answer.” Y/N found herself hoping that he would agree, move on, and kiss her senseless again. 

It was not her lucky day.

“Well…” Draco’s gaze cast upwards, and Y/N reminded herself that this was him, Real Draco, about to give her a real, honest answer. “I don’t know why I do, I suppose. Clearly the whole muggleborn thing hasn’t been too much of a hold up for me, especially since it’s hardly as if anyone knows about this.”

Y/N nodded. She desperately wished that he would correct her, tell her that no, he had developed feelings for her and wanted for her when he saw her every day.

“Wouldn’t you do the same?” he asked, suddenly meeting her eyes with a defensiveness that surprised her. “I know that’s bloody ridiculous of me to ask you, and I know it’s pathetic I keep having this dream, but truly. I’m—well, you know. I don’t have anyone who I can be like this around. Even if it’s all fake.”

Draco Malfoy was lonely. That much was obvious to Y/N. The revelation didn’t come without pain, though. Not only was Draco Malfoy lonely, but he was using her. And he wasn’t using her because he liked her. He was using her because she was there and she was convenient. 

“Did you mean it?” he asked. “When you said that you liked me?”

“Of course I meant it,” she said.

“Of course,” he echoed, and for some reason he looked like he was going to be ill. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to tell you this is a dream and that you’re not real. Sometimes I just wish you were.”

Her heart stopped. “R—really?”

“I’ve finally lost it,” he mumbled, running his hands through his hair with a frantic motion. “I can’t believe I’m telling a product of my imagination all of this. Fuck.”

“Well—funny story, actually—”

He was fading, his edges blending into the background as he began to become more transparent. Draco had just given her the best opportunity to confess, and he was waking up. If she hadn’t been so thrown off-kilter, she would’ve screamed in frustration. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

A steady hand laid on her shoulder, giving it a firm shake. Y/N felt her eyes open—really truly open in reality—and saw Susan staring down at her, still in pajamas. 

“Yes,” said Y/N, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Did I wake you up?”

“You were tossing and turning like crazy,” explained Susan. “I’ve been up anyways. I haven’t slept well since…well, you know. Were you having a nightmare?”

“Something like that,” she muttered. 

“You saw him again, didn’t you?”

“And I couldn’t tell him,” said Y/N, pulling the blanket up to her chin and hiding her face. “I chickened out. I’ll have to wait until tonight. If I even dream of him again.”

“That’s not true,” said Susan. She reached out, her sunflower colored nails pulling the duvet back. “Man up. Tell him this morning.”

“Merlin, no!” she moaned. “Are you mad?!”

“You should tell him in person today,” said Susan. “Just think about it. If he says he feels the same way, then you’re going to feel so silly for not telling him sooner.”

“But I don’t think he does.”

“You’re going to have to tell him anyway,” Susan pointed out. “Might as well rip off the bandaid. Start healing now so you’ll be ready for the real Prince Charming when he comes.”

Y/N got ready for class that day in a daze, her mind running calculations on every possible way the scenario could go poorly. He could laugh at her and tell every Slytherin that she was a whore and would give it up for anyone. He could tell everyone that she was pathetic and had no self respect. He could spit in her face, set Parkinson on her, slander her name…

He wishes I was real. The thought kept creeping its way into her mind, cropping up when she brushed her teeth, when she fluffed her lashes with her mascara wand, when she slid her feet into her oxfords. He said he wishes I was real.

Thinking about it for too long was making her head hurt until it felt like there was a black hole in her chest, sucking in any unrelated thought and tracing it back to Draco. It was getting exhausting.

It was rare to see Draco Malfoy walking around between classes without his Slytherin entourage. So when she saw him in the hall alone before Potions, she interpreted it as a sign from Merlin himself to go for it.

“Draco—I mean, Malfoy,” she said, stepping in front of him. “Can I speak to you for a second?”

He froze. The hand that wasn’t slipped into his pocket was clenched into a fist, and his jaw appeared tight. “What do you want?”

“Er…” When she looked up to meet his gaze, she was struck by just how much taller he was than her. He was already staring back, his silver eyes unwavering. “Can we go somewhere private?”

“No,” he said blandly. “I’m busy. Can’t this wait until class?”

This bothered her. He’d been shagging her for a week, and he couldn’t even look at her when she approached him in public. In fact, it bothered her so much that she was cured of her temporary tongue tied-ness. She wanted to shock him now; she wanted to witness his epiphany.

“It’s me.” She jutted her chin up further. “It’s me you’ve been dreaming about.”

He was completely still, his expression indecipherable. 

“You know how you said that you wish that all of this was real?” she continued, recruiting her hand to emphasize her words, her fingers splaying out. “Well. Surprise.”

“How?” The word was strangled, hoarse. He looked like he was about to be sick.

“Apparently my crystal ball was cracked when I used it in class,” said Y/N. “And I’d been thinking about you when I touched it, so…” Her voice trailed off. The temporary bravado that had kept her going through the beginning of the confession was waning, sapping away the longer he remained silent.

Then he grabbed her wrist and yanked her down the hall.

“Where are we going?” asked Y/N, breathless from the sudden jerk of motion. 

Draco didn’t even look back at her as he yanked her behind a tapestry, waved his wand to cast a silencing spell, and loomed over her. There was something brewing in his eyes, something that seemed almost…primal. She’d never seen him look at her like that before, and she wondered briefly if he would kiss her.

He didn’t. In fact, he was keeping a careful distance from her, despite the cramped nature of the space. The blood from his face had long since drained, leaving his skin a panicked gray.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he hissed, his low volume entirely unnecessary considering the silencing charm he’d cast. 

Oh. A pang of raw hurt rattled through her chest, though she had a feeling that he would react like this. “I haven’t exactly been bragging about it to the masses,” said Y/N, hardly managing to hide the pain in her voice. “It would’ve made me sound unhinged if I went around telling everyone how I had dream sex with you. Your dirty little secret is safe with me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do you think this is a fucking joke?”

“You know it wasn’t a joke to me,” Y/N snapped. “I made it very clear. You, on the other hand…”

“I’m not talking about that,” he spat. 

“Then what else?” She had never heard him speak with so much venom in his tone. Part of her wondered how her Dream Draco could ever be the same person as the glowering Draco right in front of her. 

“You know what else,” he said stubbornly.

“I told you; I don’t,” said Y/N. What was she missing? “I won’t tell anyone that we had an accidental interdimensional friends with benefits arrangement. What else, pray tell, am I withholding from the general public?”

There was a vein in his neck that was protruding out of his ashen skin. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“I guess,” she said, sullen. It was strange how quickly they’d gotten comfortable bantering with each other. The mystique around Draco had long since faded now that she knew that she was dealing with the Real him every night. 

“My mark,” he hissed.

“Oh,” gasped Y/N. “I forgot about that.”

“Oh my fucking god,” groaned Draco, his tapered fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Are you joking? You forgot that? Are you dense?”

“I thought that wasn’t real!” exclaimed Y/N, panic rising. He’d just revealed to her that he was a Death Eater. Like, a real Death Eater with a mark and everything. And Voldemort had mentioned a task…”I thought that was just a nightmare.”

“I can’t believe you.” He huffed, air leaving his lungs with a sharp puff.

“In other news,” said Y/N, who was trying her Very Best not to lose it over the fact that her crush was actually a Bad Guy, “Pomfrey gave me the cure to stop the dreams. She wanted me to give you a vial. Drink it before you fall asleep tonight and you won’t see me again.”

He plucked the vial out of her outstretched hand, swirling the liquid around before downing it in front of her in one go. The speed in which he was willing to give her up just like that made her heart lurch.

“You can’t tell anyone what you saw,” he said once he swallowed. “No one will believe you, anyway.”

“I know,” said Y/N. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I promise.”

He gave her a look that was full of suspicion.

“I’m a Hufflepuff,” she said slowly. “Remember that conversation we had two nights ago? Loyal to a fault.”

“Loyal to your friends—”

“Loyal to you, too. Even if it’s stupid of me.” And that was the truth. Y/N could deny it all she wanted, but she knew that she would never turn him in. 

Draco muttered something unintelligible, but Y/N thought she caught a “no bloody self preservation” through the jumble of words. She hoped to hear more, but the commotion that was slowly growing in the hall told her that their time was running dry.

“I think we need to get to class soon,” she said. “I suppose…this is it, then?”

His hand twitched at his side. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to reach for her, but then his expression hardened and he stepped back. “Yes. Sorry if I got your hopes up.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled thinly.

The day dragged on. Y/N downed her own vial over lunch with Susan sitting next to her in the Great Hall, a hand on her shoulder as she told her that she was doing the right thing.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N,” said Susan, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Look at us. Post Slytherin girls.”

Y/N laughed, but she certainly didn’t feel like she was making the correct choice. Instead, she felt like she wanted to mourn the version of Draco that existed in her head. Her Dream Draco had never been real—no matter how accurate his corporeal form, he was still fundamentally different when taking into consideration the social barriers between them.

He never liked her. He told her that himself, without a hint of remorse in his tone. And he was a Death Eater, too, with a task that he supposedly had to complete. That was something that she should probably think about more, she decided. He was literally playing for the team that advocated for her eradication.

The days began to blur, falling into the comfortable category of “normal school life”. Classes picked up, girls' nights plans were made, and the air began to cool. What didn’t change was her curiosity towards Draco. Slughorn had long since thankfully rearranged seating after Theo and Susan refused to speak to each other for a group activity, so she didn’t have to sit with him anymore. It was a small consolation, but it wasn’t enough to keep her eyes from wandering, landing on him and wondering what he was thinking.

It was frustrating, truly, to know that she had given so much of herself to someone that hadn’t even appreciated her. As she watched him through the tail end of summer and the beginning of fall, she noticed the spark in his eye dissipate, the bags under his eyes grow. There was a distinct greyness to his skin that made her concerned, and then made her angry that she was worried. He didn’t deserve her regard.

To keep her mind off it all, Y/N did something she never once imagined doing prior to 6th year—become a member of the Dueling Club. It was a formal group, entirely unattached to Dumbledore’s Army and school-sanctioned. The best wizards, generally just the 7th years, got to compete in tournaments. 

She hadn’t expected to like it so much. Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been one of her worst subjects. But there was something so satisfying about firing off spells in rapid succession, running the mental calculations for her shields, and eventually disarming her opponent. She liked the rawness of it all. The saltiness of her sweat was cleansing. When she was in the dueling circle, her blood and house didn’t matter. And, surprisingly, she was good. Like, really good. It had been a slow start, but if Hogwarts was invited to a tournament any time soon, she would be joining the 7th year Gryffindor boys in competing.

Dueling was a distraction, but it certainly didn’t solve The Draco Problem in its entirety. Sometimes, at night, she’d wonder if she’d manage to wake up next to him like before. But no luck—Trelawney had been religious in checking the integrity of all the crystal balls before she distributed them again. Y/N was not dream shagging anyone, no sir.

It was nearing December when he finally approached her.

“Y/N,” he said after class one day, catching up with her as she walked down the corridor. “Do you have a free period now?”

“Why?” She didn’t—she had Divination, obviously.

“I need a moment with you,” he said, his eyes darting to the group of Slytherins walking in front of them. “Alone.”

Her heat thudded. “Oh. Okay.” Who was she to say no to that? He led her down a side corridor, holding open the tapestry that they’d hid behind the last time they’d spoken directly.

“What is it?” she said, wincing at the sharpness in her voice. He blinked at her. 

“I found out what happened with Theo,” he said. Her heart dropped. This wasn’t about them after all. 

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t cheat on Susan,” he said. “Pansy started that rumor. The girl he was with was his sister.”

“Theo has a sister?”

“An older one. She graduated a while ago.”

“Oh.” Y/N frowned, picking at her cuticles as she refused to meet his eyes. “Well, thanks for telling me.”

She had missed the sound of his voice. 

“Sure.” He cleared his throat. “Also—don’t go out with that Ravenclaw bloke, okay?”

“What?”

“Boot,” he clarified, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t.”

“Why would I?”

“Because I told you to.”

Y/N blanched. “Draco, that was months ago. Believe it or not, I don’t do things just because you tell me to.”

He was silent for a few moments, but he didn’t make any motion to leave. Instead, his silver eyes scanned her face with an unreadable expression on his own.

“You still haven’t told anyone,” Draco said finally. It wasn’t phrased like a question. He stated it like it was a fact, like he was pointing out something to her of which she was otherwise unaware.

“I said I wouldn’t.” 

“I thought you were lying.”

“Well, I meant what I said.” She jutted her chin out, remembering how she had stubbornly, stupidly pledged her loyalty to him.

“All of it?”

She scowled. Was he this dead set on humiliating her? Again? “Have I not told you enough times already? Are you deliberately forgetting everything I tell you, or are you actually that dense?”

“Forget it. Whatever.” There was an air of sincerity in the sulky way in which he was regarding the ground. She let that be the excuse for her next action.

“Hey.” The single syllable falling from her lips had firm kindness to its delivery. Just as she’d hoped, he looked up, his grey eyes locking onto hers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I thought you were going to make fun of me. I did mean everything I said. I still do, but I’m not going to fall over myself to involve you in my life when you’re so dismissive of me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine,” she replied. Her voice was flat. “It’s not your fault you don’t have feelings for me.”

If anything, it felt like it was her fault. She’d had weeks of uninterrupted time to spend with him, and she still hadn’t been able to get him to have any semblance of feelings for her.

Draco didn’t respond to her statement, but he was staring at her with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortable, like he was trying to read her mind or something.

“What do you want?” he said, finally.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you want,” he said, looking mildly impatient, “in exchange for your silence?”

She flushed red, but this time it was in anger, not embarrassment. How dare he think that she could be bought!

“I can buy you anything you want,” Draco said before she had a chance to respond. “Even a—I don’t know. I can buy you a signed copy of Spencer’s autobiography. Or enchanted hair pins that’ll keep your hair from falling in your face when you brew. A thousand of them. Or a villa in Italy. You can have a key to my Gringotts vault. Anything.”

Though his offers to buy her a home or give her access to billions of galleons were attractive, they weren’t what shocked her. She was more surprised by the fact that he’d remembered that her favorite author was Adrina Spencer. And that her hair always fell into her face in Potions.

“Draco, stop,” she said gently. “I don’t need any of that. I don’t want anything.”

“You have to want something.”

Well, fucking obviously, she thought. No shit, Sherlock. I want you.

“What I want can’t really be bought,” was her vague way of saying just that. 

His eyes flickered to meet hers again, and her breath caught. He understood.

“Don’t get me wrong. Obviously if you start dating Pansy or something I’m not going to switch up,” she continued, though the thought of him with another witch made her sick. “I meant it when I said I knew that it was always a pipedream to expect anything from you. But I like you enough as a person, independent from what you are to me. I wouldn’t sell you out like that. Just because I want it doesn’t mean it’s a necessary condition.”

Her hand, that had otherwise been resting at her side, brushed up against something. It startled her, making her jump. Then she realized what it was.

Draco’s fingers tentatively brushed against her skin, pausing when they touched her palm. His touch was chillingly cold, just as it usually was when they first touched in her dreams. His skin would eventually warm, though. It always did. 

He nudged her fingers away from her palm, loosening the fist that had formed and slipping his fingers into hers. 

It wasn’t until she felt his breath fan over her face that she noticed how close he was. It wasn’t until she watched his eyes flutter shut as he bent down that she realized he was about to kiss her.

“No,” she gasped, pushing him away with both hands. “No. Don’t—don’t do that.”

There was that feral look in his eyes again, like he was a cornered animal. “What? Why?”

“That’s despicable,” she said, feeling nearly sick to her stomach. “You can’t.”

“You like me,” he said slowly. He was staring at her like she’d grown a third leg. “You want me.”

“But I don’t want you to whore yourself out to me! Merlin. That’s…that’s disgusting. That’s too far.” To her horror, she could feel tears cropping up in her eyes. Then something else struck her. “Draco…Is everything okay? Why are you doing this all of a sudden?”

“Everything’s fine.” The way his jaw clenched told her that everything was not, in fact, fine.

“You can tell me,” she said softly. “I won’t say anything.”

“The last thing I want to be is more indebted to someone.”

“You’re not indebted to me!” huffed Y/N, tossing her hands in the air. “This is what loyalty looks like. You owe me nothing.”

“But I dragged you into all of this.”

She frowned deeper. “No. I dragged us both into all of this by having a stupid crush and using the wrong crystal ball. But anyway. The point is that bad things happen, and they’re awful, and I wish they didn’t, but I’m here for you.”

“I don’t understand you,” he said, but there was no venom in his tone. 

“I need to go. I’m already late for Divination,” she said, feeling like she’d had her fair share of emotional devastation for the eon. “Don’t worry, okay? And…I know you won’t take me up on it or anything, but if you ever want to talk to someone about…whatever your task is, I’m here.”

24 hours later, Katie Bell was in critical condition as she was whisked away to St. Mungo’s. So Y/N heard, at least. She hadn’t seen it happen herself, and for that she was grateful. No one deserved to be Imperio-ed before being cursed by dark magic within an inch of their life, but out of all the undeserving souls, Katie was at the top. She had been nothing but incredibly kind to Y/N and all of her Hufflepuff friends. She would go as far as to say that Katie had no enemies at Hogwarts.

The excitement around the castle dulled in the days leading up to the holidays, dampened by the tragedy. Y/N was scared to walk around at night, even if she wasn’t alone. She suspected Susan felt the same way after she appeared out of breath after she came back from visiting Theo in the dungeons. They had miraculously made up since Y/N told her the news from Draco. Apparently Theo had been in a state all fall, wondering desperately what he had done to make Susan move on but being too prideful to ask. They were inseparable now, which Y/N had mixed feelings about. She was thrilled that her best friend was happy again, but she missed having a single partner in crime.

To make things worse, Justin Finch-Fletchley had developed a strange fascination with her, asking to study with her during free periods and bragging about the wealth of his muggle family. It was getting exhausting trying to find new corridors in the castle whenever she saw him spot her in the hall and begin to make his way towards her. If he started talking, he’d never shut up now, despite his initial sourness. Y/N didn’t mind being kind to him—she tried to be nice to everyone she met—but she drew a hard line at being made late for her next period because he wouldn’t stop telling her about his holiday in Monaco. 

It was especially bad once he learned about her participation in the Dueling Club. All of a sudden, he wanted to join and was wildly interested in being a gentleman by walking Y/N back to the Hufflepuff dorms. Coming up with an excuse was tough—they were both walking to the same place, after all—so she resorted to taking off a few minutes early and choosing the most incomprehensible, winding paths to keep him from following. Her fear of what happened to Katie Bell was largely overshadowed by the very real concern that she could be cornered by Justin and forced to hear about how all of his siblings attended Eton.

The Dueling Club had their last meeting the night before the Hogwarts Express arrived to take students back for the holidays. It had been a tough few days. The general malaise that had been present in the student body following the Katie Bell instance was piled on top of the pre-existing midterm exam stress, making the last week actual hell. Y/N had hardly slept, spending most of her time in the library. 

She was basically asleep on her feet as she stumbled out of the Dueling Club’s meeting room—a long, wide space by the Gryffindor Tower—and began her trek down to the Hufflepuff dorms. In fact, she was so exhausted that she thought she was hallucinating the Draco Malfoy that appeared in front of her at first. 

Then she blinked and found him still there, staring at her with an intensity that made her wonder if he was going to jump her.

“Y/N,” he said. “Are you busy? Can we talk?”

“Is everything okay?”

His silver eyes flicked to the space behind her, and Y/N heard footsteps begin to echo down the hall. Justin had guessed her path to the dorms correctly and was probably moments away. “Yes. Do you mind if we go somewhere else?”

When she agreed, he reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her down a side corridor. This one didn’t have any torches, and the inky blackness would’ve startled her if it wasn’t for the warmth of his fingers laced through hers. Despite the fact that this wasn’t right—he didn’t like her, he didn’t see her like that, and he didn’t want her—it felt comfortable, reminding her of all the times that she’d anchored her hands into the spaces between his fingers. 

They finally stopped once the footsteps in the main corridor faded. Draco cast a silent Lumos.

“What’s wrong?” asked Y/N, because he had definitely been lying when he had said that everything was okay. He looked more frantic than usual, his pristine locks mussed and his frame deathly thin. 

“Nothing,” he clipped. His voice sounded raw, and it cracked in between the syllables.

“Don’t lie to me, Draco. I can tell you’re not well. What’s going o—”

“Do you still think about me?” he interrupted. The small white light glowing at the tip of his wand moved as his hand trembled, making his eye bags appear even more pronounced.

“Of course I do,” said Y/N, frowning.

“Do you—do you still want me?” 

Her first instinct was to be offended by the vulnerable position he was putting her in—once again—but he didn’t look like he was about to jeer at her, so she gave in. “Of course, Draco. I’m sure I always will, even if that’s a little silly.”

“Okay.” He gulped, then nodded, like he’d finally processed her words in their entirety. “Okay, that’s good.” 

“But you never answered my question,” said Y/N. “What’s the matter? I know you didn’t just come find me to chat.”

“No, I didn’t,” he agreed. Then he did something curious—he lifted his free hand from his side and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers remain pressed to her jaw.

“What—” She froze, her voice dying as his thumb swiped across her bottom lip, the rest of his hand cupping her neck. The heat of him against her made her sleepy, and her drowsiness reminded her of how it felt to lie next to him after they were spent, listening to the rise and fall of his chest and reveling in the warmth of his bare skin. 

The pad of his thumb tugged gently at her bottom lip, opening her mouth just slightly. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

Y/N wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Maybe fireworks, maybe sparks, maybe the sensation of her heart beating out of her chest. But despite the fact that she’d never kissed Real Draco in real life, it felt no different than how he kissed her in their dreams. 

He pulled away for just a moment to cast a nonverbal Nox and tuck his wand into his pocket, plunging them into darkness. Not like that caused her any trouble in finding his lips again. At this point, she’d become so familiar with him that there was no need for light anymore, even if it had been a bit since she had touched him.

Y/N’s hands fisted into his black robes, pulling him impossibly closer as he pressed her into the wall, his arms surrounding her and caging her in an embrace that made her entire body thrum. 

Draco kissed her with a desperation that she’d never felt in their dreams. It was like he was drinking her in, savoring every part of her that he could touch. When she gasped at the feel of his hands fisting gently in her hair, he took the opportunity presented by her parted lips and kissed her deeper.

His hair was just as soft as it was in her dreams. He smelled the same, too—that crisp black tea and cedar scent that she had come to love. 

When their lips finally parted audibly, both gasping for breath, Draco busied himself with adjusting her robes, gently pulling her collar back into place and straightening her cloak with such casual affection that it made her heart skip. Though there was little natural light in the corridor, her eyes had adjusted enough to see his face.

“Oh, God, are you okay?” gasped Y/N. Even without him making eye contact with her, she could see the tears shining in his eyes. “Hey! What’s wrong?”

Draco opened his mouth, but instead of saying anything, he let out a shaky exhale and cast his eyes to the ceiling.

“Draco,” she admonished, putting both hands on each side of his face so he couldn’t move. “Tell me.”

He murmured something so quietly that she thought she had imagined it. “What was that?”

Draco shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Please,” said Y/N. “You can tell me anything, remember? Anything.”

“He’s going to kill me,” Draco whispered. “I’m going home tomorrow, and I think he’s going to kill me. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I had to—I had to have a real memory of you. Before…”

Y/N was sure she was going to be sick. The desperation and franticness in his actions suddenly made so much more sense, especially when considering how generally unwell he’d begun to look. He was going to die, and this was him saying goodbye to her.

“You can’t,” she heard herself say. “You can’t—I won’t let you—”

“I cursed Katie Bell,” said Draco. “That was me.”

She blanched. “No—”

“Yes,” he said, more stern this time despite the tears that were beginning to stream down his cheeks. “And it turned out to be a colossal failure. So you won’t be seeing me again.”

All this time, Draco had been the one behind the act that made her scared of walking at night. It was him who had nearly murdered Katie in cold blood and casted an Unforgivable. 

But he didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of it. She’d seen that much in his dream. He trembled and shook in front of his master, flinched when whoever that scary looking woman was appeared at his door. He was no murderer. He was a boy with no other option. 

That was the long winded justification Y/N’s mind would settle upon later, when she’d had time to process the events of the evening more. In that moment, she gave into her biggest impulse—she threw her arms around him.

Her hands weakly attempted to brush away the tears collecting on his face as he shook against her, his shoulders heaving with silent sobs. She wept, too, pressing her face into his shoulder and trying to commit to memory everything about him—the way he smelled, the way his hair felt, the texture of his skin. 

“There has to be another way,” whispered Y/N. 

“There isn’t.”

“But—”

“Y/N, I’m tired.” A hand wrapped around her right wrist and squeezed weakly. “I’m sorry, love. I’ve thought of it all. I can’t do anything without putting my mother in jeopardy.”

Then he collapsed in her arms and cried anew, his breath stuttering and hitching as his fingers twisted in her robes. She held him as close as she could, running her fingers soothingly through his hair and swallowing back her own sobs.

What a fucked up world, she realized, that a 16 year old was curled into a ball on the floor of a dark, abandoned corridor, prematurely mourning his own death. 

“In another life,” he whispered once he was breathing steadily again, “I would want things to be different. For us. I would have been better to you. I’m so sorry.”

Y/N didn’t know if she could trust herself to form words, so she just nodded instead, clutching his robes. 

In retrospect, she had no idea how long they spent clutching each other on the dusty floor of the 4th floor side corridor. She never felt like she had lost consciousness, but dawn came quickly, weak winter light filtering in through a small window ahead.

“I’m so sorry,” he said finally, extracting himself from her hold and standing up. She followed him, keeping her hands tangled in his robes. He bent down once more and pressed their lips together. It was a salty, sad kiss that lingered before he finally pulled away. “I’m so sorry for doing this to you.”

“You could come stay with my family,” suggested Y/N, her voice rising with hysteria. “You and your mother. I would make sure he wouldn’t find you.”

“He would. And that’s assuming I could get my mother out in the first place.” 

“But—”

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. “If I don’t come home, I won’t be able to ever come back to Hogwarts.”

She let that sink in. He was right. She knew he was right. There was no way that he was going to be able to come back to school. Voldemort would come find him and figure out a way to punish him and his mother. “There has to be a way. This can’t be it. He surely can’t just kill you.” 

“I’ve tried everything,” he said, his voice softer. “I’m sorry. He might not. But it’s very possible he will when he learns about my lack of progress.”

The relief that washed over her was weak and brief in nature. “He might not” was hardly a promising claim to cling to, but it was all she had. There was nothing else she could say, nothing else she could suggest as they walked out of the corridor together, his fingers clutching hers tightly.

“I’m going to see you again,” said Y/N, her voice firmer than she was expecting. “I’m going to. You’re getting through this.”

Draco dropped a kiss on her forehead before letting go of her hand. “I’m so sorry. You, of all people, didn’t deserve this.”

The way he blew past her assurances, not even gracing them with a dissent, deeply disturbed her.

“I have to go now,” he said. 

“Okay.” She smiled thinly at him, reaching out to touch his wrist one last time. He let her, not pulling away as he watched her wrap her fingers around his pale skin, squeezing once with affection. “Promise me you’ll be okay.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.” And then he was gone, his long robes swishing in the castle draft as he disappeared around a corner.

To say she was devastated was an understatement. Y/N spent the rest of her morning trying to pack her things, but it felt so silly and trite for her to be folding her knickers when her not-boyfriend was about to meet his end. She wondered incessantly what he’d be doing, what he’d be thinking. He was scared, that much she knew. She’d never seen Draco look so terrified as he did in the corridor.

When she rode back on the Hogwarts Express, she had her head on a swivel, craning her neck for as much as a glance of Draco, but he was nowhere to be seen, not even when they unboarded at King’s Cross. She supposed that was a blessing. Her last memory of him—it wouldn’t be her last, she scolded herself, he would survive—was of the Draco she wanted to remember, the one that adored her and touched her softly. 

~

Traditionally, Y/N had loved Christmas. Her grandmother, who lived in London, would come out and visit them and help them cook a marvelous Christmas Eve feast. Y/N would always bake cookies with her friends, exchange presents gleefully, and enjoy the holiday movies that were finally in season. The holiday break was a perfect length of time for her to catch up on everything in her old life without missing magic…too much.

But this time, all Y/N wanted was to go back to Hogwarts and see Draco alive. She did enjoy catching up with Iris and Dasha—Lucille was on holiday in Nice—but whenever she caught herself having too much fun, she was suddenly reminded of Draco. How was his break going? Had he already been…Was he…

She would suck in a deep, rattling breath and cast the thought from her mind. Nothing she could do would protect him from the dangers he was facing at the Manor. 

Though she didn’t dare break out her wand to use magic, she ran through her dueling positions, stretched, and went on jogs in her free time. When she would go for runs, she would sprint until her legs and lungs burnt so much that she couldn’t continue. She welcomed the way her breathing shortened and her trachea thickened. It made her feel alive, like she was shedding something.

At night, she dreamt of Draco. He was always just out of reach, wearing the stricken expression he’d had when they’d said goodbye. She tried to scream out to him, to beg him to stay with her, but he’d always fade into the mist, his body eventually disappearing. 

By the time that January came, she was very, very fit, the product of neurotic exercising. She felt like a wild animal, except instead of running from natural predators on the savannah, she was running from any thoughts that involved Draco and his well-being.

Her mother gave her an extra tight hug when she dropped her off at King’s Cross, brushing her hair over her shoulder and cupping her cheek in a way only mothers could.

“You write to me,” her mother said, her words firm. “I want to know how you’re doing, my darling girl. I’ll miss you.”

“Goodbye, mum,” Y/N said, tears pricking her eyes. She hadn’t felt the compulsion to cry when leaving her family for school since she’d boarded the train in first year, but all of a sudden she felt like a child all over again. A lump formed in her throat. She would dearly miss her mother and her father and her friends, the only remaining evidence she had that normal, average life could exist. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dove.” Mrs. Y/L/N kissed her cheeks before she waved for the last time and made her way across the parking lot. 

Y/N did not see a flash of bright blond hair as she waited on the platform, but she did see Terry Boot sitting alone on a bench, reading the Prophet.

“Terry!” she said. He looked up, beaming when he saw her. 

“Y/N!” He scooted over to make enough room for her on the bench. “Come sit. How was your break?”

“It was good,” she said. “Nothing exciting. What about yours?”

Terry launched into a story about how his little brother had had an episode of accidental magic and set their older, graduated sister’s hair on fire. For the first time in over a month, Y/N laughed heartily, feeling the affection for her dear friend warm her guarded heart. As all-consuming as her Draco thoughts had been, nothing could compare to the years of friendship and connection between her and Terry.

“Read anything interesting?” asked Y/N, motioning to the Prophet. She tried to say it casually, but there was an underlying stiffness in her words. If Draco had been killed…there would have been some kind of story. Right?

“Nah,” said Terry. “You want to read it? I always forget that they basically cut you off when you go back home. Bloody ridiculous, if you ask me. If you want to stay informed, why shouldn’t you, I say!”

“Sure!” said Y/N quickly. She narrowly held herself back from ripping open the pages and wildly flipping them to see if the name Malfoy appeared, but that would be a little Uncool and Abnormal. She would have to wait for the train ride.

Susan was apparently sitting with Theo, Terry told her when they eventually boarded. Y/N had just missed her. The Slytherins had managed to get onto the train first to secure the nicest compartments.

“Figures,” Y/N said, trying her best to deliver an unbothered snort. Hannah eventually joined them, and soon enough they were departing from King’s Cross. Y/N waited until the conversation died off before beginning her read.

There was nothing. No mention of the Malfoys. Just plenty of “How to Protect Your Family from Death Eater” articles and tragic stories about the ransacking of local magical businesses. 

She finally let herself breathe. Thank Merlin. There weren’t even any Purebloods in the obituaries except for an elder Prewett, who was, in the most delicate way possible, old as dirt anyway. What conversation she had with her friends didn’t imply that there was any new drama with the Sacred 28, at least none that was worth sharing publicly. 

He was okay, she thought, her heart beginning to flutter. He was okay, and he had kissed her before she had left. 

Even further, he had actually been attracted to her. When Madame Pomfrey had told her that she had seen Draco in his Quidditch uniform at first because that’s how she thought about him the most, she’d totally forgotten that that was a two way street. Draco had not just been thinking of her in her Slytherin party slip, he’d been fantasizing about how she’d look wearing it without tights. 

Before the events in the corridor, she wouldn’t let herself consider the possibilities. And directly following them, she had been too heartbroken to even think about his feelings towards her. But now that she was almost certain he was alright…

Was he going to find her again? Was she going to experience everything with him again—but this time, in this plane of existence? She couldn’t see why they couldn’t. It was a bit too much to hope for, she conceded, but following the events before they left, there wasn’t much reason for him to continue ignoring her.

She would be okay with a secret relationship. If anything, it would be mutually advantageous. If they snuck around, she wouldn’t have to worry about the wrath of Pansy or any of the other Slytherin girls who were betting on snagging Draco for their pureblood husband. She would clarify this when he found her again and snogged her senseless, this time without the overarching theme of doom and gloom.

Distantly, Y/N knew that this was all a pipe dream. She didn’t really expect Draco Malfoy to be her boyfriend. But she hoped, hoped, hoped that he would be her something. 

She was positively buzzing with energy as they walked into the Great Hall that evening. She still hadn’t seen any of the Slytherins, but Susan had appeared at the Hufflepuff table.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Susan. “How was your break?”

Something in Susan’s composure deeply disturbed Y/N. It reminded her greatly of when she had first told Y/N about Theo—the way she nervously fiddled with her braid and smiled too widely.

“It was good!” said Y/N. A pit was beginning to form in her stomach. “What about yours? Did you see Theo?”

“Er—yes,” said Susan. “We spent time together at his summer villa in Naples. It was lovely.”

“That’s great,” said Y/N, and she meant it. Susan deserved to have a boy that would take her on lavish vacations. And so did Y/N, obviously, but she was working on that. 

The Great Hall doors creaked open, and Y/N would have turned to see who had entered if it wasn’t for Susan grabbing her hand. 

“And he gave me this bracelet!” she said, shrilly. “Look!” 

She shoved it into Y/N’s eyesight. The gorgeous yellow gems caught in the light, glittering under the stars. 

“Very pretty,” said Y/N. “Are those diamonds?”

“All of them,” said Susan, and though there was a flicker of pride in her face, Y/N could tell her mind was elsewhere. “He had it specially made for me while we were in Italy. A family jeweler kept on retainer, I think.”

“On retainer” was such a rich person phrase, Y/N thought. She nodded, smiling brilliantly.

There was a flash of blond in the corner of her eye, and she whipped around.

There was Draco, alive and well and sitting down at the Slytherin table. He looked healthier, too, his robes clean and pressed, his hair shiny and his face relaxed.

Oh, he was alive. She let out a quiet sigh. 

Draco looked up from his conversation with one of the Greengrass sisters, and their eyes met, just briefly. Y/N couldn’t help but let a little smile of relief creep onto her lips. She could feel embarrassed by how obviously she was staring at him from across the room later—right now, she was riding the euphoria of knowing that he was okay. 

A flutter of satin green robes appeared by Draco as Pansy Parkinson came into view, sitting in the seat beside him. 

Susan’s nails dug into Y/N’s thigh. “Y/N,” she said, barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I was going to tell you, I swear. I just couldn’t find you on the platform.”

Y/N was about to turn to her friend and ask her cheerily what she was on about. There was nothing to be told. Draco was okay, he was alive, he liked her back—and he was also brushing the hair out of Pansy’s face and kissing her cheek, just a few tables away and right in her sight. 

Now she understood.

final a/n: i haven’t had a chance to start on p4 yet, but it might be a bit before i have it ready as that will ACTUALLY be the finale lol. things are kind of picking up in my life (i’m picking up some old hobbies, i have a research deadline, and i’ve got to move/get a visa) so i can’t promise much, but i love this story too much to stay away from it for long!

tags: @writeandtranslate @sycathorn-slush @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss @sycathorn-slush @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos @lilyrachelcassidy @ynalouis @sivuda @zzoz942 

[fudge24-7]

Spamton for the send the character thing 👍

Send Me a Character & I'll Tell You✨️

My first impression:

I thought he was a fun character, I didn't think about how odd he was nearly enough though, he reminded me of mad dummy a bit with how he jumpscared me from some trash and wanted my soul, i was also reminded of mettaton when he mentioned showing off our soul, in general spamton felt like a classic undertale interaction, which I should have realised was odd to have in deltarune where practically no one else even mentions your soul, was a bit surprised how much everyone was into him because I never did his side quest due to misunderstanding his instructions, but I also couldn't blame them because he's pretty fun

My impression now:

God, I love him so much, I want to kiss this puppet scam artist so bad, And His lore drives me insane in a good way, so damn tragic, Yet he's also really dang funny too, it's honestly a shame I didn't get to do his sidequest blind before getting things from it spoiled, or maybe it is good I nearly cried watching my sister beat spamton neo when I already knew what was gonna happen, I can only imagine how much emotional damage it would have dealt if I experienced it blind, all in all a wonderful character he's been living in my head rent free for almost 3 years now

Favorite thing about that character:

Hmm, that's tough, maybe a tie between his lore and his dialogue/personality, I frigging love how much there is to this guy, I might have to go with dialogue honestly though there's so many good lines of his

Least favorite thing:

Probably the fact he calls noelle a hoochie mama (well "hochi mama" but its not hard to geuss thats what hes trying to say), sir that is a teenager why are you basically calling her a whore- (I should probably clarify I don't see this as like a writing flaw on Toby's part, it's just probably my least favorite thing about spamton personally)

Favorite Line/scene:

Line wise it's a bit silly, but "YOU'VE GOT [guts] KID! THATS [Discomfort and abdominal pain] IN MY [guts]!", idk it seems like he's going to say something positive about kris having guts, and then he says that, hilarious to me, "turn up the juice turn up the juice make sure to not get any on your shoes" is pretty dang great too though

as for scene, deffinitly the one where you've almost cut all his strings during the neo fight. Obviously it ends very sadly with him just falling on the ground and realizing he'll never be free but, idk him finally realizing kris is trying to help him, it's bittersweet, he's probably been pretty convinced for a while no one would ever genuinely want to help him, and he seems so touched when he finally realizes kris does, it gets to me, the scene after he falls on the ground is really good too

Favorite interaction that character has with another:

His interactions with kris is kind of an obvious one, but Honestly, I think his interaction with noelle we learn about from the sweepstakes is really sweet, how she was the first person to read his emails, so he sent her that code for a pipis in that game she played, which his brackets imply was probably the first gift he ever gave anyone, idk to me it shows a sweeter side to spamton you don't usually get to see, also the implication that even when he tries to do something nice he ends up sending a suspicious link that crashes a cumpter is pretty funny (also kind of sad when you really think about it)

A character that I wish that character would interact with more:

Hmm, maybe noelle I geuss? Or berdly maybe that would be pretty damn interesting to me, I do get why we never see him do so in chapter 2 though

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character:

Hmm, I can't think of any that came to mind while i was playing, do ones you think of afterwards after seeing them count? Theres honestly quite a few... but you know what you can have one that deals me slight psychic damage, jack frost from the 3rd Santa Claus movie, yeah you know the movie trilogy that started with a man becoming Santa after the original died from falling off his roof? Jack frost from the 3rd one kind of reminds me of him

A headcanon about that character:

I like to think his brackets quoting ads and things in the internet constantly is like when autistic people quote things from movies and things like that to help communicate, Yes this is basically me headcanoning him as Autistic, actually there's more related to him being autistic where that came from, the fact his smile is an "award losing" one being the result of him not being able to control his facial expressions well, him being a spam email while his peers are regular ads could work really well as allegory for being autistic among allistics as well, especailly being undiagnosed with how the addisons say he was "just like the rest of us" and don't seem to want to acknowledge or say that he's different from them in any way, even though he is, and how because he most likely didn't realise he was, he tried really hard to be like them and failed and didn't get why (before he gets that phone call even), (idk of toby fox intended for it to be, part of why its with headcanon stuff, i just think it could be interpreted that way)

this one's a bit of a stretch, since he probably is willing to push boundaries to get what he wants if how he acts when you try to decline his deal is anything to go by, but he also doesnt seem to ever acknowledge how uncomfortable he makes kris, going all the way up to their face even though they backed up from him, I could see that being him being bad at picking up social cues, and also struggling with boundaries like how close you should get to someone (like i said, it's deffinitly a stretch)

A song that reminds me of that character:

Too many, I have a private 2 hour long playlist on spotify full of songs that make me think of this guy, if I typed out every one that would be a lot of songs so just have a few, 'Everybody Loves Me' by OneRepublic (specifically him during his big shot days in 1997), 'The Drunk' by Kiltro, and 'Shake My Hand, Look In My Eyes' by Rinse & Repeat

An unpopular opinion about that character:

Was going to say not believing in acid theory, but I feel like that isn't unpopular enough so, I don't think he was as much of a shy wittle soft guy uwu as people make him out to be pre big shot days, I mean it's not impossible, but the one thing we learn about him is that he'd run his mouth about making it big some day every night he was at the cyber grill, which tells me he was probably more like, ambitious and confident really, I mean I'm sure deep down he had his doubts but I don't think he was that open about them

I mean there's nothing wrong with portraying him as shy, and once again he could have been for all we know, but I think it's refreshing when people approach addispam differently, and it would be nice to see more takes based off what we're given rather then what would seem more sad

Favorite picture:

Every. single. one. Ok actually to be more specific one of these two, hard to pick, love how messed up he looks in the right one from the door knob thing, but I also love the left one because look at him, he's so happy to be eating that nice big cheeseburger, he should get to eat big tasty cheeseburgers forever <3

[hellsbeenbettersincehesplit]

Sorry for the wait- life got busy! Without further ado, ch 7 of shifting vertebrae! As always, cross-posted under the cut!

First | Prev

Shifting Vertebrae

Chapter 7: Lesson Two - Being a Bystander

Charlie was genuinely pleased by Velvette’s progress so far. From what she’d seen in the interactions around the hotel, little by little, the overlord was getting more comfortable around the rest of them. More than that, however, Charlie  was noticing Velvette trying to be good.

She wasn’t being nice. There had been virtually no progress made on that aspect. Charlie also knew intent was different from tone, actions were more important than words, and steps in the right direction are the same no matter the disguise they wore. Not everyone is thick skinned, and mindfulness is important. But frankly, that was a problem for later, if ever. They could work on it! Everything was fine.

And those actions that Charlie had noticed revealed a side of Velvette that Charlie hadn’t expected to uncover. Angel Dust had mentioned rumors that Velvette’s workers were all being treated better- reprimanded the same amount as always, but actual consequences were less harsh. Nobody there ‘knew’ why, but Charlie did! The hotel was clearly working. And if Velvette could change, couldn’t anyone? This was proof that all they had to do was get someone’s foot in the door, and the person could change with time.

Charlie truly hadn’t thought much of today’s lesson. It was on being a bystander. In her opinion, despite all the aforementioned progress, Velvette was the one with the furthest to go. Charlie knew some of what happened at Vee tower, and Velvette clearly needed to hear about this more than anything else. So, she’s painted a banner, grabbed her gym teacher whistle, accepted Vaggie’s good-luck kiss, and got started.

“Alright, everyone!” She’d begun. “Today’s lesson is on being a bystander. Can anyone define what that is?”

Over time, Velvette had gotten more relaxed and Charlie had gotten better at deciphering her. She noticed the overlord’s shoulders tense ever so slightly. That was fine, expected even. Charlie would be careful about how she talked about this. She could understand why she needed to walk on eggshells with this topic at this time- but she still thought Velvette needed to hear about it.

Just like always, Vaggie’s was the only hand that had appeared. “It’s when you’re on the sidelines of something happening, and you could step in, right?”

Charlie nodded enthusiastically. “Basically! Now, we’ve all seen something happen around us and not wanted to get involved, right?”

A few reluctant nods. At least they were half-listening? Maybe? She sometimes why she even bothered with the lessons- it seemed like, 9 times out of 10, the positive environment did more than her words ever could.

“Because this is a safe space for sharing, I’ll go first.” She took a deep breath- she didn’t like talking about these things, but it was hard for everyone! That’s why she had to be a leader here. “I see demons fighting all the time. I almost always just walk past them. If everyone in Hell interceded, this would be a nicer, safer place- but they don’t, and nobody wants to go out of their way, so we just let things happen.” She cleared her throat. “Does anyone else have an example?”

Everyone stared back at her. In hindsight, she should’ve predicted this. This wasn’t about shame or guilt, it was about growth- but she wasn’t sure how successful she was at this point.

“That’s ok! Today, we’re just going to talk about ways we can help. Being a bystander may not do active harm, but it is still a choice. Let’s say we’re at a party, and we see someone being pressured to do something they don’t want to. What’s a way we could help?”

Angel raised one of his hands. In the same flat tone he always had for this, he offered, “We could get between them and offer a way out.”

“Excellent!” At some point, her enthusiasm would rub off on them. Charlie had to believe that. She just had to. “Do you guys see how this connects back to the golden rule? If we were being treated poorly, we wouldn’t want people to just stand there and watch! And imagine if your mom or dad or partner or friend or sister-“ Velvette’s eyes snapped up for a split second- “was being hurt by someone, and you found out someone could’ve helped and didn’t. Not to mention, being a bystander can cause so much guilt when you could’ve helped but didn’t. Like we always say, if you can’t do it for your moral compass, do it for your mental health.” She glanced to Vaggie, who gave her a thumbs-up. “For practice, we’re going to create a few situations for people to practice interceding in! This’ll help you in the moment, because you’ll have practiced what to do.”

She was pretty sure that some of them had begun to drift off while she was talking.

“Husk, go to the bar.” When he didn’t move at first, she blew the whistle, which a few residents jumped at. “Husk! Bar.” Once he was out of earshot, she instructed Velvette to pretend to slip something in Cherri’s drink, using disguised artificial sweetener.

Husk swooped in quickly, and she judged the exercise as a success. With that being said, Charlie was a little confused when, around halfway through, Velvette slipped away to the bathroom. After about a minute, Cherri followed after her. After a short while, Charlie had gotten a little concerned, and was about to walk in when she heard Velvette talking in a hushed tone. Her curiosity got the better of her.

“Vel, there’s no way it’s personal,” Cherri was saying.

“How can it not be?” Velvette’s voice was thick with emotion. “It’s not always as simple as jumping in. Sometimes the right thing doesn’t look like it.” Her tone was so defeated for someone so headstrong, Charlie almost couldn’t register it as Velvette’s. She was a little caught up on those words- this wasn’t that complicated of a subject, in her opinion. There was no way Velvette couldn’t do something to help, and Charlie hadn’t seen anything that resembled an effort to stop Val.

“I mean, sometimes interceding just makes things worse, you know?”

That didn’t sound right in this situation, but Charlie didn’t know about overlord politics to dispute it. But still, Velvette was plenty powerful on her own, right?

“Look, mate, you can see how it looks, can’t you?” Was Cherri’s reply. She heard something that might’ve been a pat on the back. “What you know is more important.”

Charlie supposed they could return to this topic some other day- and also that this conversation was, ultimately, private. She slipped away. At least Velvette was making friends? This would be a good sign. She would twist it into one, somehow.

She slotted today in her brain somewhere between where her mom was and why Alastor was helping her. This was something that maybe wouldn’t come back to bite her if she didn’t think about it- so she wouldn’t.

[sepyana]

Noir 2001 Ep. 11-18 Thoughs

This is around the time when Noir's plot starts to pick up.

Some general things first:

The sountrack of Noir is really damn good. I wanted to listen to is some more so I searched it up on Youtube. Turns out it's composed by Yuki Kajiura, which is a name I instantly recognized because she is responsible for the soundtrack of Madoka Magica, one of my favourite anime soundtracks ever. Explains the pmmm vibes I got for sure.

I will say though, she did improve between the osts. I like the Noir soundtrack a lot but there are a few janky bits the pmmm ost doesn't struggle with.

I had a lot of fun watching these episodes, the plot is interesting and the more "episodic" segments don't feel jarring to watch. I'm starting to like Kirika and Mireille a lot.

But the biggest reason for my interest is Chloe. I can't explain why, she doesn't get to do much yet. I dunno, she is just really charming to me.

Onto the episode by episode notes:

Ep. 11

This episode sets up the whole grand retour plotline, we see Atlena is planning something that Soldats is not too happy about. Also we get to know more about the book the photocopies are coming from.

I really like Chloe, I like that we get to see a show of her wardrobe only for her to pick the same wack ass outfit every time. Also the fact that she asks Kirika if she can keep the fork. What a weird little critter honestly.

The whole time her and Kirika are talking all Mireille could think is "What the fuck are these kids doing". She ends up giving in in the end.

Ep. 12

This episode is a oddity in that Kirika and Mireille don't appear at all. It's just Chloe and Atlena. It's a nice episode, we get to see a little bit of their dynamic. She does seem to care about her but Chloe might just be a tool for her too. It's a bit early to tell.

She is... I don't wanna say unmotivated but she is uninterested in the missions she is given. She cares about the integrity of it but she isn't interested in why she is given them. She isn't like "How dare you betray our organization bla bla"

Chloe's loyalties lie in Atlena only. She doesn't seem to care about Soldats, but she is interested in the Grand Retour, since the plan involves her.

Ep. 13

I wrote my thoughts in a seperate post like this:

I expected the painter to be one of Noir's targets or something because that's what happens with anyone who Kirika interacts positively with, thus why Mireille told her not to talk to him. But when he got shot I realized it was so he wouldn't get caught up in their mess and die. It's genuinely sad, you can tell at the end she is saying that from experience. Kirika was really happy to spend time with him, her face lights up. Something like picking up hobbies and making friends would mean a lot, especially to someone who doesn't have any idea who they are. Really nice episode overall

It was always present but after this episode you become on edge every time Mireille or Kirika i teract with a friend, expecting them to die. It does happen with George later on.

Ep. 14

There is some nice writing in this episode. Mireille denies her uncle could lie to her only for her to lie to him after. If she has things she would keep a secret surely her uncle must too.

There is definitely symbolism with the flowers but I am not smart enough to figure it out.

Ep. 15-16

Wild to me that Mireille and Kirika actually listened to Soldats. What if they hijack tour plane on your way to Vietnam or something? I don't think it's worth the risk.

The combat in this show is really lackluster. Maybe I am just not getting it. The henchmen are a joke, beating them is not fun to watch for me. And it drags on for so long too. I do like the shorter action sequences though.

It's funny that they say the poison the killer lady uses is "lethal to normal humans" and do not elaborate on that. Is she not human. What does this mean.

These episodes make me think Atlena does care for Chloe and isn't just putting on an act. Otherwise it makes no sense she would be fond of her in her inner dialogue and watch over her. She won't see that so why bother acting?

Ep. 17

The reveal that Mireille's parents were killed by Soldats was not surprising but I wasn't expexting them to be part of Soldats. We get to learn a lot about Mireille and Kirika's past but I don't have anything particularly interesting to say so I will skip that.

Apparently, her parents betrayed Soldats to protect her. But she had a brother didn't she, who got killed with her parents. Does that mean there is something special about Mireille?

Ep. 18

In every story with a duo protagonist there comes a time where the duo "breaks up". I wouldn't call this an arc since it's the span of an episode but yknow.

Losing my shit at crying Kirika she looks so much like the crying cat image here. How can you be so horrible to a face like that Mireille.

I get the sense Chloe doesn't give two shits about Mireille and only decided to tell Kirika about her because her dying would make Kirika upset. In a similar way to how Homura treats Sayaka, I guess. And she is right that it would make her upset. She is dependent on Mireille since she is the only person she actually knows. And I don't think Mireille realises that until the end.

The end of the episode was really cute. I am really starting to get attached to these two.

And that's the end! I decided to do a little sketch of Chloe at the end here for those who read this whole thing

There is a significant lack of Noir content and I want to change that so I might post some art on my art blog (^o^)v

[solomon-tozer]

Okay so @ra-scheln is interested in the Crozer & Hickey thoughts living in my brain, so here they (or at least some of them) are! (Because holding up our faves and pointing out all the holes is fun and we should do it more >:D)

First thing's first: Crozier is NOT a people person. He wears his rank so awkwardly, he doesn't make an effort to be friendly or approachable, he sort of :[ faces at pretty much everyone, and just... reads people pretty damn badly. Most of the men I think just put up with this (to a point) because he's Captain, but Hickey... Hickey isn't like most of the men.

So the second point is: Hickey really is not a normal guy. He's wearing the guise of one. He's trying to blend in and just get by. But he is, well before the show begins, damaged in spectacular ways. He doesn't think the same as others. His way of processing things is on a different level. He's also constantly on alert, absorbing, analysing and enacting what he thinks will serve himself best.

So, throw the two of them together, and you get... a disaster.

Crozier barely knows Hickey exists. He's one of the crew. Maybe he'd noticed the Limerick detail and heard the accent, thought 'huh that's odd', and then just... gone about his day until they met in the Great Cabin. By that meeting, they've been stuck in for their first winter, Crozier is feeling shitter than ever, he's drinking more, Sir John has invaded his space, Crozier doesn't trust him or feel listened to/appreciated/valued, and then there's this... guy... in to fix the privvy and holding a dog shit in his hand. He's just some guy. A refreshing someone/no one to just vent to for a minute or two.

Only, that's not how it should work. Hickey doesn't know his place, because he doesn't understand the system he's inserted himself into, and Crozier doesn't really care in that moment or even think 'hey this isn't an appropriate way to talk to one of the ratings'. Crozier has no idea what that interaction is going to create. At all. Probably barely even noticed who he was talking to. He got to say his dramatic lines, be civil for a minute, and then that was that.

But to Hickey? Oh boy. Earlier, there had been the whole Irving discovering him and Gibson thing. And while Gibson was freaking out, Hickey was grinning and smoking, not actually afraid. See, he'd read Irving. Correctly. He's calm about this. He's in control. Nothing bad is going to happen.

He now goes on to read Crozier. Incorrectly. Maybe a little high on that close shave with Irving and his surety, Hickey's now in the Captain's cabin, and the Captian recognises him. Speaks to him. As an equal, no less. He sees something in him. He confides in Hickey. When Hickey works Crozier to extract details about the leads/chances of getting under way again, it's easy. Crozier doesn't notice (well, he doesn't care/doesn't think, just speaks, which he shouldn't have done).

The whole moment where Crozier offers Hickey a drink, and insists, then makes that toast... Nothing to Crozier, but everything to Hickey. He doesn't need to worry about Gibson, Irving, or anything else. The Captain has recognised him, and his potential. "To ourselves." A navy man would know that's a traditional toast for a Wednesday. Hickey thinks it's a serious, genuine toast to himself and the Captain. He carrys his memory of that Wednesday right until the very end.

Of course, Gibson starts tearing Hickey's idea apart, quite brutally. So in that break-up, Hickey loses both Gibson and what he thought he and Crozier were together (a set apart, a cut above the rest, exceptional, etc - only, I think Hickey sees people in positions of power as stepping stones for his own greatness, and those people will eventually be beneath him as he rises even higher and oooh he's so deliciously unhinged). Hickey's reaction is to take a shit on Gibson's bed, and then to go through Crozier's things like a paranoid lover, where he then finds a letter that confirms Crozier was going to abandon him/them. He later talks about it at the hanging, about how Crozier was leaving everyone behind, but at the time the sting of it was that he was going to be left behind. He meant nothing to Crozier after all.

But by this point, Crozier has invited him in. There's something between them. They know things about each other (in Hickey's mind). They're still equals. Crozier, on the other hand, probably goes right back to not even thinking about Hickey until Silna is kidnapped.

At that point, Crozier goes way, way overboard. He reacts viciously when Hickey steps out of line (a result of him not being a Navy man, but moreso I think from him thinking that he and Crozier are equals). Hickey thought he was acting sensibly, as he ought to, and in a way Crozier would be thankful for! But instead Hickey becomes the focal point for Crozier's anger and malice - Hickey is someone Crozier can kick, so to speak, and Hickey keeps giving him excuses by riling him up during that scene. Maybe there is a little something of 'I don't like this guy' in Crozier at that point, but I read it as mostly being 'here's a guy who has just pissed me off, and I am the one in power and I'm going to fucking show it'. Crozier is too self-absorbed to care about anyone else, or to realise that his actions are going to have serious consequences.

One of those consequences? I'd say Irving's murder.

Okay I am reaching a tiny bit here, as Irving's murder was opportunistic, and there's already the fact that Irving is responsible for Gibson breaking up with Hickey, but I feel that there is another layer to it. In justifying Hickey's punishment in front of the crew, 'dirtiness' is tacked on the end. And were the fuck did that come from?? It wasn't mentioned when the three men were questioned! In that moment, Hickey looks in dismay at Irving, thinking that Irving has said something to Crozier. Which he hasn't. The charge would have been for sodomy, or indecendy, or something along those lines. But Hickey misunderstands. The bitterness Hickey feels towards Irving deepens. The only logical (for Hickey) conclusion that can be drawn from the extra charge is that Irving is behind it.

From then on... Well. The bulk of the crew shift to Erebus. Anyone who took the time to notice Hickey's character might realise he gets lost in the crowd. He can't operate surrounded by normalcy, he struggles in the light, but when the crowd is thinned and gasping for breath in the face of adversity? Hickey thrives. And he's left/kept on Crozier's ship. Kept close. It's personal.

How much thought and attention does Crozier give Hickey? Probably not very much. His drinking gets worse, HIckey doesn't cause any further trouble, and then Crozier withdraws to go through potentially lethal detox. I doubt he thinks about very much except the pain and misery he's in. Everyone but Jopson and MacDonald are kept away. But Hickey is still on the same ship, no distracting crowd to smother his voice, he starts to rise, to feel the power he has over Irving, become a source of comfort for Manson, to gather information and draw together those who aren't content. And we're not even delving into Tuunbaq! Because that's also where Hickey is transferring his focus/power. Crozier was weak. Unworthy. But he has still wronged Hickey, and Hickey is going to get his revenge one way or another.

Quick detour here to say that Goodsir is the only person who comes close to noticing Hickey's nature, but he does nothing with that knowledge. He doesn't share his concern, perhaps assuming 'oh they all know what this guy is like' because Hickey's sweet-talking is so glaringly obvious to him. He's the only person we see who doesn't fall for it. (But then again, why bother anyone with something the caulker's mate says? He's just a lowly seaman.)

There does come a point where Crozier finally notices Hickey. When he's sober, they've abandoned the ships, and when he has to because the dance he's unknowlingly been engaged in is about to enter its final act. Hickey was just a convenient, nameless, faceless confidant/emotional punching bag, but now he's a very real, very conniving, and very clever threat. What in the hell is wrong with him?? Why is he so unhinged? Well, because Crozier helped to make him that way. Hickey was always going to do what he could to survive and get out of there, but with Crozier it became intensely personal. Hickey is, to a degree, a monster of Crozier's creation. Elevated and recognised then spurned and humiliated... That bit during the lashing where Hickey has that transcendent moment... Crozier created that. Long before, when he raised a glass and toasted the two of them, he tethered Hickey to him.

And, of course, Hickey has to sever that tie. He has to end it. To prove he's risen above, and has won. His victory is the final victory. Crozier was wrong to cast him aside (but Hickey is right to cast Crozier aside, because he's no longer worthy).

This post is, obviously, about Crozier and Hickey, but the moments in which Crozier thinks about Hickey actually are few and far between. When they occur, they're intense, yes, but so much of this is one-sided. Crozier has other concerns, after all, whether or not he deals with them well. Would Crozier paying more attention to Hickey help? Fuck no! Crozier is utterly unable to realise what's going on with Hickey and keep their interactions professional. And even if he could? Hickey isn't reading Captian/subordinate in their interactions. At best, Crozier could have packed Hickey off to Erebus where he might have been distracted and found it harder to turn the minds of other men. But Crozier didn't think to do that. Didn't realise that Hickey was obsessed with him, and the bond he became convinced that they shared. No one noticed, because Hickey is good at not being noticed, and also because there were so many other concerns weighing on everyone (including Crozier's health and method of captaining).

Even at the end, Hickey has that little speech with Crozier. He's showing off his power and position, while concluding this chapter of his life. Maybe part of him also wishes Crozier would praise him again, and recognise him, and express regret discarding Hickey. Hickey would still cast him aside, of course, but for a moment he could toy with offering forgiveness.

Crozier won't do any of those things, of course. He no more understand Hickey than he did months ago. He sees the actions, sees the unravelling of a man, but doesn't appreciate his own part in it. He has no idea how profoundly he's impacted Hickey's life (and thereby the lives of many of the other men).

Given the length of this, I'll wrap up my ramblings there, and remind anyone reading this that these genuinely are my rambling, and a meander through the meta that lives in my mind. I very much enjoy holding up my faves and pointing out all the broken bits, and it's so much fun exploring how these two interact and fuck each other up specifically. Take what you like and ignore what you don't!

[its-tea-time-darling]

teresa/brenda/thomas for the ship ask!!

hi! ask game for:

Send me a ship and I'll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it

so, truth be told, i admit i've been putting off answering this for.. A While. the main reason being that i have a Difficult capital D relationship with book!brenda. severely dislike her, got a major problem with her behavior, think she's a very poorly written character, especially combined with teresa's storyline. i could go into more detail but i won't, unless someone explicitly wants to hear about it.

that being said, in bookverse i think a brenderemas angle and viewpoint on the whole story and the dynamic between the characters could only improve the whole mess. especially considering brenda was basically the og thomesa shipper in fever code - namely:

(rest put under a read more break bc it got Long lmaoo)

brenda brings up thomas doesn't seem to have been very nice to teresa lately. that teresa obviously cares about him, and basically she probes for whether there aren't any feelings between them. when thomas says "She means the world to me, and nothing will ever change that. but it's kinda hard to be romantic when you have a dying world outside your home and your friends are stuck inside an experiment.", this part follows:

Brenda seemed disappointed. "Yeah, but come on. People love, Thomas. Best of times, worst of times. People love. You should make sure she knows how you feel. That's all I'm saying."

(that's page 303 of fever code in my copy)

so if we take that to assume she thinks there's some sort of romantic feelings between thomas and teresa, and she wants for them to be happy, then the events of the main trilogy could be explained as follows: brenda liked thomas during the fever code era already when she first got to know him. catch being: she also started to like teresa during that the time.

so she's kind of put in a position where she gets to interact with thomas more once the scorch trials start--but her whole jealousy angle is not just a jealousy for the closeness she knows thomas and teresa shared, but also goes in both direction: she's not only jealous thomas likes teresa, she's also jealous that teresa likes thomas. (.. and not her)

insert a whole lot of internalized homophobia (thanks to trashner and his non-depiction of anything canonically queer we don't know how the sentiments regarding queerness are in the universe of course, but lets just go with a similar vibe to ours in this case), not understanding her feelings for teresa, the suppressed feelings turning to animosity and maybe that would shape up to a better image than what canon reading presents at first? that's really the best i can do for bookverse hah.

all of this being said, as you know your fic space for the traveling stars (linked so interested followers can access it easily, rated T) did somewhat change my perception of brenda, and gave me a point of empathy for why she could be the way she is, especially in the books.

then in the movies i think the whole thing is much easier. brenda's a (in my opinion) much more coherent and palpable character, with a genuine dynamic of care and closeness with thomas. the way for the 3 of them there would probably be that they'd blossom into an polyamorous relationship in safe haven. actually that could be a fun scenario to explore!

with thomas having a lot of confusing and conflicting feelings regarding the both of them, until there's some sort of realization that he can love two people at the same time. i'd think him and teresa would be a thing first, after the kiss and the forgiveness and all. but it'd probably be hard with how all the others think about her, so she might not have too much contact with the others. and thomas and brenda could grow closer on their own.

i always find the 2 outer points of the "V" in an ot3 connecting one of the most thrilling parts of it - makes me think of lots of possibilities where teresa and brenda could grow closer in safe haven. specifically brenda would have to need to wrap her head around a whole lot before she could come to understand and like teresa ("same dick who betrayed us?" anyone lol).

that was a nice thought experiment, yay!

finally, AUs are an entirely different thing: there i love the 3 of them together! i think their characters can have wonderful dynamics (though there, too, i i find the trenda part of the triad the most difficult to get into. thomesa and brenderesa just come much more naturally to me (which is probably also why it was easiest to write your tmrss the way i did, with us only getting to see trenda once it was already established and working).

which, speaking of! i of course can't answer this ask without linking said tmrss gift for you from last year (i was so glad you liked it!) for the curious follower: snow on the beach (9.3k, rated T) <3

now im curious for your thoughts!

[hellishjoel]

hi kylee!

i’m back with another “gentle reminders” ask. it goes in line with one of my personal goals this year of trying to work on my kindness and how i show that kindness to others.

the beginning of a new year is always a bit tough for many people, for many reasons but at the scale of the fandom, i have noticed some negativity starting to spread. maybe it’s bound to happen on any social media but i always considered tumblr to be different, to be over the kind of discourse you could find on other apps. this place has been a true haven for many of us and i would like to keep it that way, so i thought, as a way to counterbalance this negativity, i could compensate with a nice message for one of the driving forces in the fandom: our dear writers.

i would like to begin by saying thank you.  thank you for dedicating your time, your energy, your love and sharing pieces of yourself with us. the fandom wouldn’t be what it is without you: just like a body needs a brain or a heart to function properly, fandoms need writers like they need others contributing. thank you for offering diversity, engaging with different tropes and characters to reach as many readers as possible. i will admit, some things proposed are not my cup of tea but i know they can be enjoyed by others, the same way some of my favorite fics wouldn’t necessarily attract others. so thank you for giving a chance to everyone to find what they enjoy, to discover, to learn, to cry, to laugh, to love and to be able to do so in an open, safe space. thank you for interacting with us as well. thank you for responding to our questions, sharing snippets when we get impatient, teasing us with your new ideas and making life a little more fun and exciting every day. and of course, thank you for doing all of this for free. for expecting so little in return when you give us so much.

now a few things i want you to remember: 

although we’re all thankful for having access to your art, your first fan should be yourself. write what you enjoy, write that self-indulgent fic, write your favorite trope, an improbable duo or crossover because you’ve always wanted to. do it for yourself. in the same way, have fun with it. writing is a hobby, it’s not your job, it’s not supposed to be a chore. so do what makes you happy. don’t worry about updating fics, about being slow, about posting too much or too little. some things might take time, some might need an hour to be posted but in the end, they all matter just the same. they’re worth being read and cherished and we will appreciate them. whether you have thousands of notes or barely a few hundreds, you have your place here. you’re still an amazing writer, you’re still an artist regardless of the stats. 

whether i've had time to binge-read your stories or just discovered you. thank you. i love you. i’m grateful for you. i see and appreciate your work. your efforts. you.  i’m sorry if you’ve ever been received with negativity but i hope this can make up for some of it.  you deserve nothing but kindness and appreciation and i hope you know how much you matter here.

sending you all my love,

anna 💗

hi anna,

reading this felt like a really sweet letter and your message touches my heart. this is a good reminder that people like you make being part of this fandom so incredibly special and I appreciate you taking the time to write something so incredibly personal and filled with gratitude to spread positivity, it means the world not to just me, but all of us writers.

knowing that our hobby brings so many people joy and creates a safe space for readers is the most rewarding thing, it's what we all want to achieve.

sending you back all my love and gratitude, anna, thank you for taking the time to write this and send to your favorite writers, I'm genuinely so grateful!

all my love,

kylee