#once again; if you have never experienced it you cannot possibly imagine what it fucking feels like

[inkykeiji]

i was just completely blown away by your post about agnes and what you said, it really really really resonated with me. i relate to everything you said and i remember reading in a post a while back that he was in the hospital and you felt conflicted about seeing him. i understand that. i also have a complicated relationship with my dad and i just love him so much but i could also be so upset with him because of the things he's done to me and my sister and my mom. oo i can't type too much!! -🧁

oh wow cupcake, thank you so much for this!!! i really appreciate hearing your thoughts, and it’s once again super comforting to hear that there’s someone else who can relate to it as well <33

tw: mentions of drugs + abuse

family in and of itself as a concept can be and often is so incredibly complex, especially when there’s something like drugs and/or abuse thrown into the mix. a lot of people (esp people online, i find) like to act as if these relationships are black and white, as if these feelings and these experiences can be easily and neatly sorted into defined categories when the fact of the matter is, they aren’t, and they can’t. obviously, abuse is bad—this is an objective fact we can all agree on. but when that abuse comes from a family member, a parent, someone who was supposed to be there for you and raise you and love you, it really muddies things.

i love my father, but i do not like him. i am hoping i can find it in me to forgive him for what he’s done to us before he dies, but i’m not sure it’ll happen. i still hold so much anger and bitterness and just generally negative feelings towards him, and in my twenty-something years on this earth i have only JUST begun to work through this shit. and he doesn’t have much time left.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: The ☆Glow-Up☆ 2024 Has Planned For you

♠︎ “At bottom every man knows well enough that he is a unique being, only once on this earth; and by no extraordinary chance will such a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity as he is, ever be put together a second time.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. 

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✧ Pile One ✧ (queen of cups, 5oC rev., 10oC, the chariot, the magician, 4oS)

Release.

➣ The central theme of this glow-up is inner fulfillment. You are on a journey of true self-love. The queen of cups is sitting proudly at the front of the spread. Major water energy here. You are unraveling emotional trauma down to your roots and reevaluating past attachments and burdens with the six of cups.

➣ I picture floodgates opening, allowing all of the pent-up emotional turmoil to release and finally free you on a deep psychophysiological level. You released something, an attachment or mindset that was set in motion during your formative years that was hindering your ability to hold compassion for yourself.

➣ Shuffling my music, "Daddy Issues" by the Neighbourhood came on. I also saw the hierophant while shuffling the cards. You experienced a lot of undervaluing and emotional neglect in your home. Emotions in your home were taboo and possibly even punished.

➣ I feel like the people around you growing up, were either always dissatisfied with you in some way or made you feel small. Since this is a group reading, it is hard to word this without excluding a large chunk of the audience, but some of you grew up in a home situation where any form of outward self-love or expression was met with a lot of negativity and ridicule. 

➣ This forced you into hiding your true self which groomed you into a mental space full of self-criticism and doubt. In your mind, you were unwanted or inherently broken in some way and deserved less. The way you were treated created deep emotional wounds in your young psyche which made it hard to feel satisfaction within yourself or with the outer world.

➣ With the five of cups, I get the sense that you had felt you were in a desert and unable to fill any of your cups so to speak. Baby, that’s coming to an end. The ten of cups is at the center of your spread with a big ass RAINBOW touching corner to corner. The drought is over. The dark days are over. The sun is shining and you can taste hope again. 

➣ On this self-love journey, you are currently grieving (releasing) a degraded perception of yourself along with any beliefs that inhibit you from feeling good about your character.

➣ You are realizing just how enough you are and flushing out all of the poison that was crammed in your head about being inadequate. You are freeing yourself from the chains of feeling unworthy of a good life.

➣ You will find true beauty in every corner of you. Beauty in your laugh, beauty in how you dance, beauty in how you take care of yourself, beauty in what you care about, inner beauty that cannot be taken from you or scaled down. You will nurture your inner world, thus adding color to your outer world.

➣ During this major life-changing period, your view of reality will flip in a way you never thought imaginable. Life will feel worth living again. Your music will move you more and the swift pass of wind will invigorate you with new ideas for creative projects that will propel you forward to lifelong prosperity.

➣ I’m hearing 🎵 “… I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so proud of you” from Make Me Proud by Drake. Congratulations babe, you just broke a fucking karmic cycle. 10 of cups, following the 5 of cups??? You have graduated from a dark knight of the soul and are now approaching new, abundant energy.

➣ The universe is proud of you. Your ancestors are proud of you. Your inner child is proud of you. Your God(s) is proud of you. All of the cells in your body are proud of you. You have released something cosmically within you. Please hug yourself and have a good cry because you are doing something you never believed you could. Your hopes and dreams are unfolding.

➣ Get ready to make your daydream your reality.  With the chariot, you’re prepping to TAKE AWWFF BABY. The release of this blockage has raised your energetic vibration and is ushering bountiful opportunities into your life, new passions, new ideas, and new connections. 

➣ Your newfound faith in yourself is going to give you the courage to go out and experience life. Most importantly you will find satisfaction in the mundane. Every frame of your day will be brighter and feel better. You have gone from 5 empty cups to an eternally flowing fountain. Take the time to thank yourself for all of the hard work you put in to get here. 

➣ Advice: Extend yourself grace. During this period, you will have enlightening moments that will unlock pieces of the puzzle surrounding your trauma and a lot more will make sense and become easier to process. 

➣ However, as the flawed humans we are, we tend to make sense of something and then turn around and beat ourselves up for not realizing it sooner. Or, minimizing our pain and criticizing our past selves for not doing more about it because hindsight truly is a dirty dawg. No that is not how it works. 

➣ That’s like when you were in school and the teacher would start bullying you for not understanding a subject. YOU HAVE A DEGREE??? I’m fourteen?? Of course, you can say it's simple when you have already “graduated” and learned from it, not when you’re in the middle of experiencing it.  You gained clarity during this tower moment and can now see the bigger picture and liberate yourself. 

➣ Younger you fought to make your way through the fog and deserves grace because you would not be here today without your younger self’s perseverance. Forgive yourself for the time it took to get here and see the beauty in your evolution throughout the journey.

➣ Also, drink plenty of water and get rest!! It’s Pisces season, and a Pisces new moon is coming too. Most of your trauma will unravel while you’re unconscious. Please get plenty of rest and hydrate. This pile has Cancer/4th house energy written all over it. Mother yourself during this period. Clean your room, make your favorite foods, watch cheesy movies, and splurge on special skin care. Pamper yourself. okay I'm done. KISSES.

"My consciousness has outgrown this vessel"

✧ Pile Two ✧ (4ofS, the tower, the wheel of fortune, the emperor, the lovers, judgment, 7ofW, ace of wands)

Life's gotta always be messing with me (you wanna see the light) Can't they chill and let me be free? (So do I) Can't I take away all this pain? (You wanna see the light) I try to every night, all in vain, in vain

Justice.

➣ I asked for a song to explain the central theme of your reading and I got "Freak on a Leash" by Korn. I get the feel that one of the main struggles of your life path is unfair judgment. People are quick to create a false narrative of you and run off with it.

➣ If you read my last PAC, “What is most alluring about you”, you may have chosen pile 2 or 3. With the seven of wands, you are constantly under attack.

➣ Take what resonates but I see a few scenarios. People may be quick to paint you as a bad person without getting to know you. Your public reputation was heavily influenced by rumors from people who intentionally wanted you to be disliked. People will take something small, blow it out of proportion, and try to impose it as a character flaw. Oh, you don’t eat the crust on your sandwich? How wasteful! There are starving kids out there, you’re so inconsiderate!! and then everyone else in the room who claims to not like you (but are truly your biggest fans) are oooing, ahhing, and egging that hating ass bitch on. 

➣ I’m seeing a bus. You may have been betrayed and thrown under the bus a few times before. This is the pile of my Lilith placements. Your power is your ability to garner attention, both good and bad. You attract a lot of envy. The ugliest emotion, in my opinion. It’s partners in crime with greed. 

➣ For some of you, I am getting the message that all of this underserved hate has sent you into a dark mental space and driven you to take an attempt on your life. And if you like my messages or my readings please believe me when I say this,

 I know you are meant for greatness. I picked up on your energy and you found this reading for a reason. Just like the Universe and everything within it, we go through cycles. And I know this is a long, painful cycle but it will come to an end and you will get out of this darkness. From the bottom of my heart, I feel your importance and I am happy you are here to share this moment with me. Keep swimming, I support you, the Universe supports you. The sun is rising and is offering you a new beginning.

➣ In this dark period in your life, the negative attention may have outweighed the good. I see a theme of being outcasted and isolated. Severe bullying. For some, even abuse. Like pile one, you have gone into hermit mode and isolated yourself from the unfair judgment of the world. 

➣ But head up muffin, the scales are balancing, and the wheel of judgment is turning in your favor. Following the wheel of fortune, you got the fucking emperor!!! You will come out of this on top. The people who kicked you while you were down will have to swallow their pride and kneel to shine your shoes while you sit rightfully on the throne. The public scrutiny you face needs to balance itself out karmically.

➣ Think Megan Thee Stallion. I won’t bring up any of her business, but if you've been keeping up with social media, there is a good chance you are well aware of it. That woman has gone through the unimaginable, one traumatic event following the other all while facing an obscene amount of public scrutiny. She had to go into solitary and off the internet to rebuild her life. But guess what??? MY GIRL STAYS ON TOP>>>>> After all the bullshit she endured, she’s coming out on the top of the charts, brand deals with major conglomerates, she is the people’s princess.

➣ That’s going to be you. You have dealt with a lot of injustice in your life, now you’re coming out of your “rehabilitation” and all of the people who spent the better half of their day attempting to tear you down will have to watch your rise like a phoenix and fucking weep.

➣ People were constantly taking from you , now the universe (whatever you want) is preparing to give you the power to replace what you have lost tenfold. Ace of wands, I see that life is handing you the metaphorical talking stick. The king stick. You are being blessed with a flame in your belly (activated solar plexus chakra) and the chance to completely reinvent yourself. 

➣ There is a lot of king and authority messages here, the ball is in your court. You are being released from the shackles of public perception and these next few months will be filled with inspiration and willpower to prove everybody wrong and showcase your strength.  I feel like a good chunk of this group will get chances to be in positions of authority or importance. 

➣ This is going to sound silly but I got this exaggerated imagery of a mean person calling you poor and ugly but the next year you drive past them in a Bugatti with their sugar boo in the passenger seat. HELLOOOO.

➣ With the lovers, I see you are coming in union with what is rightfully yours. In the grand scheme of cosmic law, you are owed good fortune and it is on its way. With the tower, I see an explosion and people fleeing. You’re going to pop out stronger than ever and that’s going to scare people cause whatever superiority they got from painting you as inferior is going to blow away and their true scummy nature is going to be seen. 

➣ After this, there may even be people who pretend to be your friends and claim they supported you all along. Have faith in your discernment. I have faith in your discernment. It will all be okay pookie.

➣ Advice: Just keep swimmin' my love. <3

"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth."

✧ Pile Three ✧ (queen of wands, knight of pentacles, 6oC, page of pentacles, 10oW, 3oW, the hermit)

It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Awaken.

➣ Regardless if you’re a woman, a man, somewhere in between, or none of the above, you are approaching a newfound understanding of your sexuality. For some of you, it is a full-blown sexual awakening. 

➣ Some people here are realizing their sex appeal, others are coming to terms with their lack of sexual attraction, some are learning what they like in sex and what they’re attracted to. Yes bae, all of it; the whole spectrum of sexual exploration is here.

➣ There is an emphasis on attraction to yourself. You will see a huge shift in your physical appearance. Yes, your style will change but the main reason for this glow up is because you shifted the perception of yourself into a higher light. You’re allowing yourself to feel desirable and embracing the aspects of yourself you once shunned. 

➣You will carry yourself in a higher regard and this will open doors for you. Look into the mirror and give yourself a nice smack on the ass. Your self-esteem is sexy.

➣ Pile one is on a watery emotional self-love journey, this pile is all about fire and finding out where sexuality and passionate relations fit into your life. 5th house (flings, passions, hobbies), 8th house (sex and rebirth), 9th house (adventure, connecting with your soul tribe).

➣ I asked for a song to tie up this message in a cute little bow and I got the 639 HZ frequency. This is the frequency of love, radiation, and positive energy. It is the frequency of the heart. The heart chakra is opening significantly during this glow-up.

➣ You are opening yourself to adventure and sending a high vibe out into the ether. I see a sunflower and the queen of wands is decked out in bright yellow, you are stepping into the spotlight and attracting a lot of attention. I would say Venusian attention because the aura here is very romantic and collaborative. It's like the universe is spraying you with extremely magnetic pheromones and having opportunities run at you.

➣ You are going to get a lot of offers. Love offers, career offers, party invitations, you’re going to be involved with exclusive circles. You are realizing your self-worth and now you’re attracting things and people who also see value in you.

➣ This isn’t going to resonate with everyone, but I sense that for a few of you, there is going to be a reconnection with a past lover or a past friend from your childhood (or just the past in general). I also sense a theme of using your attractiveness and people’s attraction to you to your benefit. Somehow monetize your appeal. 

➣ It is like you finally released your ugly duckling mentality and you woke up and went, “WOAH, what can I do with this???” Lmao you discovered you’re an undercover member of the pretty privilege club.

➣ Yeah, with the page of pentacles and the ten of wands, I’m seeing an entire life path open up for you. Your passion and fiery energy will get you places, and you’ll go on adventures exploring your opportunities with that. Some of you will even become spicy content creators or do some risque sex work. Orrrrrr just venture into a career path you weren’t courageous enough to do before. 

➣ You’re a giant magnet energetically right now (I mean c’mon, 639 HZ???) you’re attracting a lot of romantic suitors. But watch out, they’re not all good suitors.

➣ I pulled another card and got Justice in reverse. Some people will try to get over on you. Also, the person on the justice card looked strangely untrustworthy when I flipped it over. Once again, practice your discernment.

➣ Your romantic and passionate life is taking off and it's going to be extremely exciting, especially if you are coming out of a period of stagnancy. However, with the 3 of wands and the hermit, the cards remind you to remain centered and plan bigger. Your passion, attractiveness, and sexuality will amount to more than hookups and shallow relationships if you invest in yourself wisely.

➣ You are unlocking an advantage you have in this lifetime. Open yourself to career endeavors, social networking, and creating a strong foundation for your talents and hobbies. Yes, date and have fun but don’t spend all of your energy in one place. Your attention and your energy are your greatest currencies.

➣ To expand on the hermit, I need to emphasize you are going to be getting a LOT of attention soon (I’m getting Sun-conjunct-Venus energy, is that in your natal chart or is there a transit with Venus right now or something?). You will receive more eyes on you than average and this might overwhelm you and push you into hermit mode.

➣ That is okay, let life flow. During those moments to yourself, dream big because you have the power to pull your dreams into your reality.  You will meet lifelong friends during this period. I am sensing a power trio for some of you. 

➣ Advice: To wrap up, we all know attractiveness is social currency, and you are coming into a great deal of social wealth baby. But please spend it wisely and do not lose yourself in the crowd. Keep up with your self-work and take introspective breaks away from people so you can figure out how to best utilize this awakening for you. 

➣ You look really good in red currently. Red hair. Red lips. Red clothes. Red jewelry. The color red is bringing you a lot of abundance. Okay bye. MUAH. <3

"I said mom, I am a rich man."

✧ Pile Four ✧ (page of swords, knight of cups, wheel of fortune, temperance, 7oP, the devil rev.)

Ascension.

➣ OMG I’m so sorry, I wrote a novel for the other piles but this one is going to be short. Maybe you were drawn to another pile mainly and this is your secondary pile. BUT IT’S SHORT BECAUSE ITS FUCKING AWESOME. 

➣ The song I channeled for you was named “Elniño Prodigo” and I want to say the artist is Love Record but I'm not too sure. This means child prodigy. When I was laying out your cards, I got this sense of anticipation and impatience. Theeeennn BOOM the wheel of fortune, temperance, and the seven of pentacles smack me in the face.

➣ Oh me oh my, you are chilling in the universe’s womb just BAKIN’ being prepped for a complete rebirth. You are a prodigy, you are not meant to live an ordinary life, you are being prepared for a unique journey. I know this is going to sound hard to believe because I feel like with this pile, a large portion of your life was spent in waiting.

➣ Do you feel like you are a late bloomer? If so, trust me, it is for a reason. Whatever you build in this lifetime will be built slowly and have a solid foundation because your legacy is meant to withstand the test of time and last long after you leave this Earth. This period you’ve spent waiting is you getting your ducks in a row and sowing your seeds for the next evolution of you. I said something like this in my last pac, if that's you, heyyyyyyy i’m glad your energy stuck around, i love it.

➣ Do you have Pisces or 12th House placements mixed with Saturn significance? Whatever this glow-up exactly holds for your future is a secret. It’s the universe’s divine surprise to you. I did not get any energy detailing exact events, just something big in the works behind the scenes is making its way to you. 

➣If you’re reading this pick a card there’s a good chance you’re spiritually attuned and can feel this cosmic shift happening. Something about your energy is so excited. I imagine a hyper dog being held back by a leash because it's not quite time yet.

➣ If you’re in a period where you’re not seeing any life progression and it's causing you anxiety, relax, you are on the right track and you are where you need to be. You have not wasted time, time really isn’t even fucking real. Everything is moving slowly for a reason. 

➣In this “boring” period you are meant to tap into your inner world and curate what you want your life to look like. Create vision boards, imagine your future hobbies, involve things that mentally stimulate you, keep the spark of curiosity in your life, and nurture your inner dreamer. 

➣ You are connecting with your sensitivity at this time, finding the sweet spot where your mind and heart meet, and letting it fuel your zeal for life. Get these thoughts on paper. Journal them, draw them, sing it, and call this energy into the 3D. Your life is about to have a complete 180. Maintain faith.

➣ You’re seeing a lot of synchronicities currently. Animal synchronicities and repeating numbers(111,444,222,1144,1414). You’ll find strangely personal messages in music and media. Maybe you’re seeing shapes repetitively pop up around you in your environment, like stars or eyes. 

➣ Patience is a life lesson for this pile, there is a lesson to be learned in the stillness of your life. You are mentally restless right now, slow your body down and try out parasympathetic regulation techniques to calm your racing thoughts. Go swimming, take a class, try out a new hobby. In this “womb” era, enjoy your last moments of stillness because your life turns up a notch. I’m not even getting rebirth, I’m getting BIRTH. No matter your age, your life is truly beginning in this new season.

➣ Advice: I see a lot of clouds. I see angel symbolism. You’re ascending. You’re shedding old skin, letting go of dead weight, and you’re growing wings, getting ready to experience life to the fullest. Maintain hope that your life will pick up pace and become exciting again. 

➣ Find peace in this waiting period. Listen to bird sounds!!! They are going to calm your mind and elevate you emotionally. You’re growing your wings and getting ready to take off like a bird, you should learn from the best. Okay, I love you, the universe loves you, MUAH <3.

"Your sim has gone stir-crazy!"

watching tumblr shit on my images in real time is just...

On a lighter note, I know some of these piles are heavy, I posted my first reading two days ago, and the support I received has brought so much joy into my life. I love doing this, if you like this me doing this, I'll do this forever. I am eternally grateful for all of you likes, reblogs, and comments <3

Also, some of these piles are connected, feel free to poke around and pick up on messages spread out for you. okay, I'm done. kisses! MUAH

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: 2/22/22

summary: carmy receives bad news that changes his life forever, while you're relationship with him comes to a head. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only), death, grief, mentions of suicide, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language

word count: 5.5k

listen to: hurting kind - del water gap | robbers - the 1975 | hostages - the howl & the hum

a/n: i need therapy after writing this. so sorry bbs love you all. ok but fr, i thought that i was going to write a smut scene that was not going to be hot bc we know it's canon that carmy does not fuck and then it ended up being really hot and i'm once again asking for therapy.

read: chapter three

2/22/22

Something happened. Can you come over?

That’s all the text said. It’s all that needed to be said for you to drop everything you were doing and hop on the subway. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you imagine every single worst case scenario possible. Carmy had given you little context in regards to what this was about, and you almost regret not asking as your mind runs rampant with possibilities. Not that he would’ve given you an answer. Something about him seemed different. He’d never sent that urgent of a text. 

Not even when the restaurant was slammed and he needed you to come in on your day off. 

Something happened. 

The words continue to echo in your head until you reach him. 

You're at Carmy’s doorstep faster than you ever thought your feet could carry you, and when he opens the door for you, your heart breaks. He’s wrecked. His face is a flushed red, though you don’t think it’s from crying, and he looks like he hasn’t washed his fuckin’ hair in days. You take in his somber expression, like all of the joy he’s ever experienced has been sucked out of him. 

Carmy steps aside, allowing him into your apartment. 

He mumbles something you can barely hear, gesturing towards the couch, so you follow him, taking a seat on the crappy couch you’ve come to love. He stares at the floor, his eyes cold and empty, as you sit in silence. 

It’s you who breaks it, bursting at the seams with anxiety.

“Carmy, you’re scaring me,” you say softly. 

He keeps his eyes fixed on the floor as he licks his lips, swallowing as he opens his mouth to say something. It’s a few moments later that he’s finally able to put two words together to tell you what happened. 

“It’s Michael,” is all he manages to get out. You can hear the break in his voice when he utters Michael’s name, and you’re terrified of what he’s going to say next. 

“Your brother?” you ask, secretly hoping he won’t say yes. 

You feel your stomach drop. 

Carmy nods slowly, “Yeah.” 

He takes a few beats before saying anything else, his head swimming. On one hand it doesn’t feel real, and if he doesn’t say it out loud, maybe it won’t be. There’s a part of him that still thinks this is some cruel, sick joke that Mikey cooked up, just to fuck with him. 

But he knows it’s real. He could hear it in the way that Sugar’s voice broke on the phone. He could hear it in the way that Richie practically screamed at him to stop being such a fuckin’ cuck and come home. He knows it’s real, because for the first time in years, his mom’s called him. 

Must be Sugar or something calling from her phone for her…. ‘S gotta be, he thinks to himself. 

“He’s-,” Carmy starts, before stopping again. Carmy looks away, in the opposite direction of you, focusing his eyes on something outside of the window. 

He can’t look at you because if he looks at you, he might lose it. 

“He’s dead.”

“Oh Carmy,” you gasp, your heart wrenching in your chest as the words leave his mouth. You reach out to touch him, but he flinches, pulling away from you. 

“No,” is all he says through gritted teeth. 

You cannot touch me. You cannot make me feel better about this because I’ll have to feel worse about this, is what he wants to say. 

“The fuckin’ asshole shot himself on the State Street bridge. I don’t-, you don’t get to make me feel better about this,” he snaps, his tone almost a warning. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, sitting up straight and leaning towards him. He may not want your comforts, so you’re going to give your presence. He had asked you to come over after all, right? “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says, coldly. 

His response is jarring, leaving an unsavory taste in your mouth. You understand that he’s just gotten the most unimaginable news, but it doesn’t sit right with that he’s taking it out on you either. Is that why he invited you over? To be his punching bag? Instead, you decide to pivot to crisis control-mode, hoping to remedy some of the animosity he’s harboring. 

“Okay, well, I’ll call Kate and let her know that you can’t come in tonight, if that helps. Just so you don’t have to-,” you suggest. 

“Why would you fucking do that?” he yells, snapping his head towards you as he finally turns towards you. You can see it in his eyes: how angry and devastated he is – at Michael, at what happened – and even though you know it’s not personal, it stings all the same.

“Because!” you shout back. “Carmy, you just found out-... something terrible. I just don’t think you should-.”

“Yeah, well you don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not my mom and you’re not my girlfriend so,” he’s quick to retort, rebelliously. 

You scoff at him, shaking your head in utter disbelief.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Carmen,” you cut him off with a yell. You know he’s hurting, but this is where you draw the line. “I’m well aware that I am not your girlfriend, but I am your friend, and I care about you.”

You’re right. 

He knows you’re right. 

He knows he’s being a dick, but it’s like he can’t stop his own rage from spilling out sideways as yells:

“Well, if you don’t want to be here, then get out!”

“Stop it!” you cut him off, venom in your voice. 

Carmy looks at you, his bloodshot eyes wide with utter despair. 

“You called me, Carmy. So shut the fuck up and let me fucking help,” you lower your voice, bringing the confrontation between the two of you back down. 

With his eyes fixed to the floor, his mind zoning out to numb the pain, he manages to get out, “I don’t want to-. I need to go to work tonight.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” you plead softly, yet firmly. 

“Yeah, well, you don’t get to make that decision,” he dismisses. 

He’s right. You don’t. 

“Yeah, okay,” you sigh, giving in. 

It’s a horrible idea – for Carmy to go into the restaurant – but you know he’s going to do it anyway. 

“What can I do for you in the meantime?”

“I just-, I don’t think I can be alone right now,” he mumbles, averting his eyes once again. “Can you just like… sit here with me? Till we gotta go?”

“Yeah.”

The afternoon passes slowly, and you feel like the both of you have been lit on fire – only a matter of time before you burn his whole place down. As you’re getting ready to leave, Carmy sprints into the bathroom, emptying what little contents he has in his stomach into the toilet. You’d been aware that he’d been having some trouble – throwing up before work – but he’d refused to see a doctor. Another decision he’d made clear wasn’t yours to make. What you weren’t aware of was that it had gotten this bad.

Like you’d imagined, going into the restaurant had been a mistake. It hadn’t taken long for Carmy to blow up at a line cook, mid-shift, over an undercooked duck breast. Sure, it was a big mistake, but Carmy had sent the line cook home after making a very public example of them. After the event, Tim had urged Carmy to take a break, offering to expedite for a few, while you rushed him into the walk-in. 

“Hey! You can’t do this shit. Not here. These people look up to you!” you chastise him. 

“He’s a fucking idiot! How do you undercook a fucking-,” Carmy yells, his face twisted into a look of disgust.  

“Carmy!” you shout, stopping him mid-sentence. 

You both know this is not about the duck breast. 

You share a moment of silence together, the cold of the walk-in leaving goosebumps on your skin. You lower your voice, a quiet and intentional demand leave your lips as you instruct:

“Listen, I’m going to give you five minutes to fuckin’ lose it in here, and then you’ve gotta pull it together and finish dinner service, okay?” 

He nods in response, his lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. You watch him pace a few times, before he clutches at his chest, his breathing becoming more uneven. 

This is why coming in had been the worst idea ever. 

“Carmy, are you o-?" you start, genuinely worried about him. You feel like your head is spinning. Carmy is losing control and all you can do is watch. 

He holds out a hand, as if to stop you from coming any closer, so reluctantly, you leave him to it, closing the door behind you. The sound of empty storage containers being thrown across the walk-in fills your ears, as you close the door to the walk-in behind you. You feel like your heart is caught in your throat and watching him go through this is more painful than you could’ve ever imagined. You take a deep breath before returning to your station, keeping your head down for the rest of the shift. 

Dinner service is pure chaos as Carmy undulates from unbroken focus to volatile and unpredictable throughout making the evening hell for the rest of you. The tension is thick, and it’s as if everyone is walking on eggshells around him, more so than normal. By the time it’s over, you insist on walking Carmy home. You make a stop at your favorite deli near his apartment to pick up a quart container of matzo ball soup on the way.

“You gotta eat something,” you encourage, the silence in his apartment deafening.

You’re met with silence as he stares blankly at the table in front of him, his spoon dipped into the soup. Instead, you sit with him, watching him take a few sips of the broth, while the actual food in the soup goes untouched. He doesn’t have the stomach for it. 

He doesn’t know if he has the stomach for this either. 

All of this. Any of this. 

You eventually give in, packing up the soup to put in the fridge for another day, even though you know he’ll probably just toss it when you leave. Just when you think it’s time for you to go, he stops you with the most tender touch to your arm, as he asks:

“Stay?” 

His eyes are watery, and although he’s going to let himself cry yet, he looks more vulnerable than he’s looked all day. How could you say no?

“Yeah,” you agree. 

You change into one of your favorite t-shirts of his and the pair of sweatpants that he always seems to give you as you get ready for bed. He doesn’t even wear them anymore, as if he knows they’ve become your favorite… as if they’ve just become yours. You spend the evening with the TV on, not talking, just sitting in each others’ company. You watch as he smokes a cigarette inside, stress-running a hand through his slicked back hair from his shift earlier. 

Tonight feels heavy. 

Tonight is heavy. 

Before bed, you fill up a glass of water for him, before placing it on his bedside table. Carmy lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling, as you crawl into bed with him. 

He’s too afraid to his close his eye, because if he closes his eyes he’ll picture it: the State Street bridge, Michael…. 

How could he? he thinks to himself, the bitter taste of betrayal welling up at the bottom of his throat. 

You close your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep next to Carmy – something that feels like an impossible task when you can practically hear him thinking out loud beside you. Instead, the two of you just lay there, frozen in silence. You’re not sure how long you’ve been doing it for when you feel Carmy shift closer to you. 

He turns to you so tenderly, practically folding himself into your body, earning the smallest gasp of surprise from you. You’ve never seen him like this as he buries his face into your chest, his body shaking against yours. It’s then that you realize he’s crying, and you know it’s highly likely that this is the first time he’s cried since he heard the news. 

“Carm?” you whisper, unsure if he wants you to acknowledge it or not. 

“Carmy.” 

But he doesn’t respond. He just cries. 

So you let him. 

“I’m so sorry, Carm. I’m so sorry,” you whisper, over and over again. 

You stroke his hair, wanting nothing more than to ease the pain of your best friend, but you know there isn’t much you can do. Instead, you let him cry, running your fingers along his scalp and through his delicate curls, desperate to give him any kind of comfort you can. This is breaking your heart. You fight the tears coming to your eyes because this is so not about you right now. 

Carmy’s body shakes against yours as he finally lets go, surrendering to the huge waves of pain and grief that crash and pull him under. He feels like he’s being taken under a riptide, never to see the surface again. He knows he’s been wildly unfair to you and as he weeps against your body and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve someone like you. 

Someone who chooses to say, even when he’s being a dick. 

Someone who cares enough to fight with him. 

Someone who cares for him like this. 

When he finally looks up at you with bloodshot eyes and swollen lips, all he can think to do is to kiss you. 

It catches you off guard as he surges forward, pressing his lips against yours, that for a moment, you let him. 

But reality hits and you’re afraid he’s gotten too carried away, swept up in a moment of grief. 

“Carmy, stop it. You’re not-, you’re not okay right now,” you murmur, pushing him away.

He leans his head against your chest again with a sigh, letting out another sob, almost as if he’s given up on the idea. You feel like he’s put you in an impossible position. You’d have been lying if you said you didn’t want to – hadn’t thought about kissing him before – but this felt wrong. He was vulnerable, and you know you’ll both regret it in the morning. 

“I’m sorry, Carm,” you apologize quietly. “I just feel like-, well I’d feel like I'd be taking advantage. I don’t think we should.”

His silence only makes you more nervous, beginning to over explain yourself.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I-, I do. I just… I don’t want you to regret it because… because you’re upset right now and cause you more-.”

“Please,” is all he says, cutting you off mid-sentence. With the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the sun, the moon, and you hang the stars, you’re not sure how to say no. 

Carmy leans in to kiss you once more before whispering mere inches away from your lips:

“Please.”

He presses his lips against yours again, immediately regretting his past self for not doing this sooner. He’s never tasted anything sweeter than you, and the way you kiss him back seems to bring all thoughts flooding his brain to a halt.

In between kisses you manage enough self control to stammer out, “Are you- are you sure? Is this really what you-?”

“Yes,” he replies, as if it’s a declaration.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just-, please,” he pleads, murmuring your name into the soft kisses he begins to leave across your collarbone. “Just wanna feel good.”

“Just wanna feel good,” he repeats. 

You surrender, letting go of your own ambivalence as you focus on the way his lips feel against your skin. It’s then that you realize what absolute fucking idiots the two of you had been for the past few years by ignoring this thing between the two of you. For a moment, you’ll tear down the walls, the rigid boundaries that you’ve kept to help you compartmentalize your relationship with Carmy. 

There’s no possibility of hiding from it when his body feels this good so close to yours. 

The truth is that you are fully, wholly, and stupidly in love with each other. 

“Yes,” you parrot.

With your confirmation, his mouth is back on yours, as you’re pulling him on top of you, deeper into your shared passionate liplock. He wonders why he’s denied himself the pleasure of having you, for this goddamn long. His tongue slides against yours, a tender hand moving up to cup your face. The way his name sounds tumbling out of your mouth sends him into a frenzy. It feels absolutely intoxicating and he can’t get enough. 

Carmy’s hands begin to wander, fingertips sliding at an experimental pace underneath the hem of the t-shirt you’re wearing. You shudder against his touch, gasping as you anticipate where this is going. 

Carmy raises his head to look at you, not sure if it’s a good thing or not. 

“This okay?” he asks you, concern evident in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you nod, giving him permission. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

And then he’s kissing you again, dragging calloused fingertips up and down your torso underneath the shirt, hesitantly making their way to where they’d like to be. You’re not wearing a bra, he realizes, as his fingertips find soft, supple skin at the rounded bottom of your breast. He follows the shape of it, before bringing a cautious palm up to grab hold of the fullness of your breast. You arch into his touch, encouraging him further. Carmy takes his time exploring your body, giving you the lightest touch as his fingertips graze your nipple. 

“Can I take this off?” he questions, only willing to move forward if you say yes.

You nod, breathlessly, “Please.”

You watch as he sits up, pushing the hem of your shirt up over your breasts, revealing your bare body to him. He has to hold back a groan, swallowing hard. 

Carmy stops what he’s doing, in pure awe of you, as he marvels at you. He can’t believe this is real: that you’re here, laying in his bed, allowing him to do the things he thought could only live in his head. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” are the words that tumble out of his mouth and you think you may cry. 

“Touch me,” you whisper desperately, begging him to come back to you. 

“Touch me, Carmy.”

Carmy lays his body over yours, and you spread your legs wider, allowing him to fit perfectly between them. He begins to roll his hips against yours as he returns his attention back to your bare breasts. He drags his fingertips over your erect nipples, following his touch with his mouth. 

He practically groans as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, earning a strangled whine from you as his hot, wet mouth engulfs you. 

“Carmy,” you moan, arching into him. 

He’s rolling his hips against your clothed core on pure instinct, as he takes his time, now exploring unfamiliar territory with his lips and his tongue. You find a good rhythm as he continues to drag his mouth over you, grinding your hips into his underneath your remaining clothes. He’s surprisingly good at this – something you hadn’t expected considering he’d let you know he didn’t have much experience when it came to dating. You assumed that that meant sexually as well. 

As Carmy moves to your other breast, you feel one of his hands snake under the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, lifting his hips so he can feel you. You know you’ve soaked through your cotton panties from the anticipation, and it goes right to his dick as he feels just how wet you are. He doesn’t have much experience with this, but he’s seen in porn. He begins to rub circles across your clothed core, while he busies his mouth with exploring your other breast. 

But he’s not quite where you want him.

“Wait,” you say, stopping him. 

Had he just gotten caught up in the moment?

Did you not want to go this far?

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks you, a concerned tone in his voice. 

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him, shaking your head. “No, I just-.”

Instead of explaining, you reach down to grab his hand, guiding him just a little higher up to your clit. He presses the rough pad of his index finger against it, finally touching you where you need him, gasping to let him know that he’s found the right spot. His eyes are locked on you, watching your face change as the new spot you’ve shown him brings you more pleasure than he could’ve imagined. 

He practically groans into your mouth when he hears the way you whine his name, and he swears he’ll do anything to hear you say it again. 

“There?” he asks you, rubbing tight circles across your clit. 

“Yes,” you pant, growing wetter with every touch. 

Carmy pulls away just for a moment, daring to touch you underneath your panties. You’re so wet for him, and he thinks he may lose his mind as he slides his index finger in between your folds curiously.

“Take them off,” you practically demand. 

“Hm?” he hums, lost in the way you look at him with hooded lids and pupils blown out with pure desire. 

He’s never been this guy. 

The guy that gets the girl. 

He never knew he could feel like this guy, but here you are, begging him to undress you. 

“I said take them off,” you repeat yourself, more desperate this time. You take a lighter approach with what you say next, the smallest giggle in your voice. “And while you’re at it, we gotta get you naked too.” 

“Yeah,” he says, with the kind of conviction he’d say ‘heard’ with. 

He’s stripping off his shirt, and you’re sliding your pants and underwear off with him. 

“I have a condom in my emergency kit,” you say, the both of you busy shedding your clothes. 

“Yeah?” he asks you, relieved to hear it. He hadn’t thought that far yet. 

“Yeah, hold on,” you reply, getting up from the bed. 

Carmy thinks he may pass out as he watches you stand, giving him a full view of your naked body. You disappear only for a moment, before returning with the small emergency kit you always keep in your backpack. It’s equipped with all the ‘just-in-cases:’ tampons, panty liners, safety pins… condoms. You pull out a single condom before returning to the bed. Carmy’s kneeling on the bed, and you mirror his body language, doing the same. 

“What would you like to do?” you inquire softly. 

As turned on and hot for him as you are, you want to make sure that he still wants to do this. He finds himself surprised at your question, not sure how to answer it. 

“Think we can just pick up where we left off?” he asks you. 

“Yeah,” you reply. 

You place the condom down beside you on the bed, before leaning in to press your lips against his again. He inhales as you kiss him, his tongue immediately sliding against yours as one of his hands goes to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. He’s surprised as you pull away from him, beginning to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down his neck, his chest, and he hisses in anticipation as run your hands down his muscular abdomen, following with your mouth. 

“Hold on, I uh-,” he stutters out, as he anticipates where you’re going with this. 

You pause, sitting up tall as you kneel, your body across from his. 

“I just uh… if you do that, I don’t know if I’ll last long,” he admits, a blush running across his cheeks. 

“Yeah, no. Totally cool,” you reassure him, before crashing your lips against his once again. 

As you tangle your tongues together once again, Carmy begins to lead you down towards the bed, pushing you back, and climbing on top of you. He still has his sweatpants on, so you begin to bring your hands down to them. He hisses as you cup his rock hard erection, pleasantly surprised by what you feel. 

“Wanna take these off?” you ask in between kisses. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods, sitting up for a moment. 

You wait with baited breath as he strips his sweatpants off, wondering if he’s as thick as he feels. You’re practically pulsing, squeezing around nothing as you finally see him, Carmy, your best friend, fully naked. 

God, he’s beautiful. 

How had you not noticed how physically attractive he was? 

It’s not that you hadn’t noticed. It’s that you hadn’t let yourself think about it. 

You reach over to where you left the condom, handing it to him. Carmy takes it, a blush running across his cheeks as he rolls it on, still in disbelief that you’re about to do this. He returns to you, laying his body over top of you as you space for him once again between your legs. He’s hesitant to give you his full bodyweight as he gives you a long, passionate kiss. And before he knows it, you’re reaching down to stroke him, and he’s thrusting into your hand, his breath becoming heavier and heavier. 

You feel him as he presses his tip against you, rubbing it up and down before pushing into you. You both gasp as he gives you shallow thrusts, testing the waters, thrusting deeper into you with each one.

He pauses, exhaling as he’s fully inside of you. You’re pulsing around him, practically causing him to lose his mind with the way you feel alone.

“Fffffuck, you feel good,” he moans, trying not to cum right then and there. 

He begins giving you shallow, hesitant thrusts, unsure of himself. He wants to make you feel good. And he’s also terrified that this is going to end before it’s even properly started. 

Carmy stops again, pausing within you. 

“Sorry, I just-.” 

“No, it’s okay. Take your time.”

He’s nervous. You can tell he’s nervous and that he’s trying not to cum. 

“How about… I take control?” you suggest, hesitantly. “And that way, if you need me to stop we can um… well, you can just tell me.”

“Uh… yeah,” he agrees with a nod. “Sure.” 

Clumsily, the two of you switch positions, making sure he knows you’re okay with this. As he lies on his back, staring up at you, you straddle his hips, giving him the smallest smile. You reach down, guiding him into you once again. You gasp as he fills you, his thick cock stretching you, especially in this position. Carmy’s hands go to your hips as he watches you take him. 

“You feel really good too, Carm,” you finally say, your hands moving to his chest to brace yourself as you begin shifting your hips forward and back at the most unbearably slow pace. 

Carmy thinks he must be dreaming as he watches you ride him. His hands slide over your hips, wrapping around your body so that he can touch your butt. He’s practically digging the pads of his fingers into your hips as you begin moving over him at a faster pace. 

“Shit… you’re really good at this,” he groans, as you lean down to kiss him. 

You giggle against his lips, and whatever thoughts he has in his head disappear. Carmy begins thrusting up into you, his hands on your hips encouraging you to move a little faster as you kiss him. You’re moaning his name, whining as you feel every single inch of his cock slide against your walls, becoming more and more breathless by the minute. Your gasps turn into moans, getting higher in pitch as you go. His hands are guiding your hips, taking some control back as you grind against each other. 

“Carmy,” you cry out as he thrusts his hips hard into you. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. You nod, breathless, as you bury your face into his chest. 

He holds your hips down, pinning you down against him as pushing his hips into yours. 

“You wanna switch?” he asks, breathless. “Can I-?” 

“Please,” you reply eagerly.

You switch positions once more, and as Carmy guides himself into you again, you can tell he’s much more confident than last time you’d found yourself in this position. You wrap a leg around his waist and he holds you there, beginning to move his hips against yours again. He works his way up to a rapid pace, his face turning red as he does, and you’re writhing underneath his body, whispering the dirtiest things into his ear with every single thrust.

“Holy shit, Carmy. You feel so goddamn good too,” you praise him. “God, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Yeah?” he manages to get out in between grunts. 

“Yes. Please let me cum,” you beg him, as he hits that spot inside of you, earning another loud cry. 

“Don’t stop.”

He’s surprised to learn that he likes it when you beg as he tangles his fingers with yours, pinning you down so that he can fuck you. With your hand in his, so close to your climax, you let slip:

“I thought about this too. I’ve wanted this for so long too, Carmy.”

“Fuck,” he howls as he drives into you, his sole purpose to earn more praise from you. To hear you cry out his name. To give you what you’ve been begging for. 

You angle your hips upward so that he can go even deeper, hitting all the way to the back of you. You’re grasping at his back, his arms, his biceps, hanging onto any piece of him that you can as he shudders, letting out the most guttural sounds. You’re squeezing around him, as he takes you to your high. The feeling of you cumming, squeezing around him like your life depends on it drive him wild, and he’s fucking you through it, the feeling of your orgasm bringing him to his. 

As you finally come down, you pull Carmy in for a searing kiss. 

“Holy shit, Carm,” you say, breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” he pants against your lips. 

Even if just for tonight, all feels right in the world. 

This feels right. 

*

The light of day is sobering. Before Carmy’s even had a chance to open his eyes, the events of the day before come flooding in, running in vicious circles around his mind: the phone call from Sugar, Richie screaming at him… and then…. 

Fuck. 

He’d crossed the line with you. 

He doesn’t know whether to be mad at himself or devastated that he fucked up, considering he’s sure as hell not going to let himself feel anything about Mikey yet. 

Michael. 

Michael’s dead. 

And he might’ve done the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do – the one thing that he’d been afraid of: that he might just lose you. 

As you stir in bed next to him, slowly blinking your eyes open, you turn over on your side. Carmy’s sitting on the edge of the bed and you can see Carmy’s stuck in his head. While you’d let yourself surrender to whatever that was last night, you knew today was different. 

“Hey,” is all you say, hugging Carmy’s bed sheets closer to your naked body. 

“Um… listen. We don’t have to-,” you begin, searching for the right words. “Let’s just forget about this, okay? I don’t-. You’ve got a lot going right now and-.”

You take a breath. You know the two of you can’t be together right now, even after your revelation last night. 

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Carmy swallows, fighting back the emotions that begin to swell in his chest. 

He feels sick to his stomach. 

But he doesn’t want to do this in front of you. 

“Yeah, no. We can… we can just forget it,” is all he gets out, his eyes fixed on the floor. 

“You sure?” you question. 

He takes a beat before answering:

“I don’t want to lose you either.” 

And even with the declaration you’d made – the promise to forget since neither of you could afford to lose each other – things had become different. In the weeks following, your communications with Carmy were less than normal. While you understood he was processing, grieving, he’d withdrawn from you, and it hurt more than you had the words for. 

You’d check in, making sure he knew you were here for him if he needed to talk. But he put his head down, working night after night at the restaurant, cold, stoic, and checked out. You worried about him. And you also knew that you both needed some space from each other. 

Some days you regret it – sleeping together – and other days, you don’t. You think that maybe everyone had been right about the two of you all along – that this had been inevitable. But it happened under the worst timing, the worst circumstances and you miss your best friend. You wish, in some ways, that two of you could just go back to normal.

read: chapter five

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[goodnightmemes]

PENNY DREADFUL S1E01 - S01E04 SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ One smile and I say yes. ❜

❛ Do not be amazed at anything you see and don't hesitate. ❜

❛ You're a man with a bloody knife like everybody else out there, so stop putting on airs. ❜

❛ I will not bore myself with explanations you could not possibly understand. ❜

❛ Nature's rarely so neat. Nature abhors symmetry. ❜

❛ Do you believe there is a demimonde? A half-world between what we know and what we fear? A place in the shadows, rarely seen, but deeply felt. Do you believe that? ❜

❛A wise man would walk away from this house and make a concerted effort to forget everything that occurred last night. ❜

❛ Should you be so unwise as to entertain the idea, we have continued use of a man of your skills. ❜

❛ There's much we don't know and must discover. ❜

❛ I've been a hired gun before. Doesn't suit me. There's no exaltation in killing for gold. ❜

❛ We all have our curses, don't we? ❜

❛ Could I be more charmed? No, I could not. ❜

❛ Sorry, my dear, it's a bit ghoulish to the lay-person. ❜

❛ And before I engage in professional matters, I feel it is vital to engage in social congress. Get to know the sort of people one is working with, you understand? ❜

❛ I've long since learned that truth is mutable. ❜

❛ You have the soul of a poet. ❜

❛ You seem to be a freethinker who might imagine a world less constrained by what we think we know of as "truth." ❜

❛ To save her, I would murder the world. ❜

❛ Join me. With me, you will behold terrible wonders. ❜

❛ Was I not responsible? But for my transgression, would any of this have occurred? ❜

❛ We cannot unmake the past. We shall live with our guilt, you and I. ❜

❛ My mother taught me many things. Among the most useful, is one must always have Shakespeare close to hand. ❜

❛ Aren't you mysterious? ❜

❛ Not much surprises me. ❜

❛ There is always a way to make a living when you've a bit of flesh, isn't there? ❜

❛ He's here. Unbutton the top of your dress. ❜

❛ Man does not live only in the empirical world. We must seek the ephemeral or why live? ❜

❛ You need all the help I can give you. ❜

❛ When the next one occurs, I shall need to see the crime scene immediately. ❜

❛ I've never fucked a dying creature before. Do you feel things more deeply, I wonder? ❜

❛ As you grow up, you'll learn we all do things which cause us shame. ❜

❛ Come along. Let's just stroll, see what wickedness we can find. ❜

❛ You do not belong here. Even less than I. ❜

❛ I believe we're about to commune with the spirits. ❜

❛ You knew I was dying… didn't you? ❜

❛ I wonder when was the moment you knew you wanted to fuck her? ❜

❛ You're not mistaking me for a sweet little debutante at the summer fair, are you? ❜

❛ If one is to engage with the primordial forces of darkness, one must expect a bit of… social awkwardness. ❜

❛ After all, who wants to know they're hunted by the devil? ❜

❛ When the poets write of death, it's invariably serene. I wonder if that's what it is really. This death, this ending of things. ❜

❛ There are some things we're not meant to know. ❜

❛ Did you imagine that I was dead? That I could die? You know better. ❜

❛ I would seek you even unto the maelstrom of the blackest tempest of the darkest night. ❜

❛ The first human action that I experienced was rejection. So do not wonder at my loathing of your species. ❜

❛ Were you really so naive to imagine that we'd see eternity in a daffodil? ❜

❛ You ran from me once. Never again. We are the Janus mask. Inseparable. ❜

❛ What in the name of all the tender mercies happened to you? ❜

❛ You know, occurs to me, given my total self-absorption, I never asked your name. ❜

❛ What do you want of me? To suffer? You've done that. ❜

❛ I'm sorry for the cruelty you've endured, that I inflicted upon you, but I cannot unmake the past! ❜

❛ I'm not concerned with the past, only the future. ❜

❛ Who has money for that? Not when there's eating to be done. ❜

❛ I'll not waste your time. I'm looking for money. I'll work for it. ❜

❛ I see things sometimes. I am affected by forces beyond our world. ❜

❛ Don't torment me. ❜

❛ In this life, there are hungers that compel us. Food, shelter, warmth, even poetry. But one thing stands titanic. Love. ❜

❛ I can never love you. ❜

❛ I do not seek your love! I do not seek what is not there. I would weep for you if ever I'd learned how. ❜

❛ This you shall do. Or I will strike down all those you love and render your brightest day… your darkest night. ❜

❛ You seek to threaten me with death? If you seek to threaten me, threaten me with life. ❜

❛ Do not test me. You have not known horror until I have shown it to you. ❜

❛ There's something wrong here. What haven't you told me? ❜

❛ Fear already? You will not survive long in this cruel old world. ❜

❛ We here have been brutalized with loss. It has made us brutal in return. ❜

❛ There is no going back from this moment. If we are to proceed, we proceed as one. Without hesitation… and with fealty to each other alone. ❜

❛ Who doesn't love a lost cause? ❜

❛ No one's ever accused me of being useful before. ❜

❛ Things are so rarely what they seem. ❜

❛ Which of us does not have our secrets? ❜

❛ It's not an easy thing, this you ask of me. ❜

❛ What a simple thing it is to snap your neck. You are so fragile, you mortals, such things of skin and air. ❜

❛ The future belongs to the strong, to the immortal races, to me and my kind. ❜

❛ I wonder what lips yours have kissed and where. ❜

❛ We've all done things to survive. There are such sins at my back it would kill me to turn around. ❜

❛ Get your best duds ready for tonight, we're going out. ❜

❛ Remind me why we're doing this again. ❜

❛ My, my. That temper of yours. ❜

❛ Why must you always denigrate my work? ❜

❛ Say it like that and you can get me to do anything. ❜

❛ Don't you worry about me. Go on to your friends, now, won't you? ❜

❛ It's a sad spectacle, why don't we just admit it? There’s no goddamn future in it for either of us. Who are we trying to fool? ❜

❛ You ever wish you could be someone else? Just run away from your life? ❜

❛ Once you get used to something, why bother? It's just repetition. ❜

❛ Have the courage to face your own sin before you cite mine so easily. ❜

❛ We'll carry on with this fight. We can lose every battle, except the last. ❜

[seeminglyseph]

I’m feeling so doped as I try to fall asleep, and I am thinking a bit about when I first got diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and I think the kindest, most understanding response I ever got was like;

“I can’t imagine what that would be like. No, I mean that. I literally don’t think I can even *imagine* what that would be like.”

And it was said with like, this compassion and empathy like “your body is experiencing a pain I cannot comprehend, and I’m not going to even pretend like I have an experience that’s equivalent, but I don’t need to. All I need to know is that you’re hurting.”

I think about that moment a lot. It was especially interesting because I was technically closer friends with his sister whose reaction I don’t remember because it was definitely not so good and she has gone on to be a stalker who haunts my nightmares. Don’t you hate it when your toxic ex-friend’s brother was way way cooler and probably your first official crush when you came to terms with your gender and sexuality but now you can never see him again because his sister is fucking radioactive.

Once I showed up to a party where we were playing Coup, and his friend teased him for saying like “I can’t wait for seph to get here” and I immediately was like

“Because you don’t know me as well as everyone else and therefore don’t know my tells and there’s more of a challenge?”

And he grinned and was like “yeah I’ve been wiping the floor with these assholes”

There’s a distinct possibility that I am attracted to vaguely autistic men who pay positive attention to me in the right context. I need to meet more neurodiverse queer men who like gender fluid men who don’t have the spoons or money to put effort into transition right now. (I’m on a list for a reduction surgery and was rejected for other stuff. I don’t know man. Living out of the closet isn’t safe irl right now)

Why is my brain only supplying “join a gaming group” as an option to find a man. I don’t even know where to find most local communities. I had a panic attack leaving my home yesterday and every time I ask if my friends can see if I might be included or to pass the idea of me or get me some information I never hear back or get any information and the idea of “hey I don’t have any friends is there a way you can introduce me to some of your friends and maybe I can try and build a friend group of my own?” Is like

“Suuuuure, of course. I’m sure we can work something out.” And then I don’t get any information for 3 months and it avoids the subject for the rest of the year and I get the impression it got forgotten or nobody actually likes me that much but nobody will talk to me directly about the issue so it’s cool.

Promise, disappear, “what do you mean?” Repeat. Exhaustion. I just don’t wanna ask anymore.

[skeletonsinherheart]

I know too well the things I've done. Who I've broken, left behind. Left in pieces smaller than any atom, and scar tissue that runs deeper than the darkest depths of the sea.

I used to think I knew pain. The kind that rips through your soul like wildfire incinerating and annihilating any living thing it touches. Nothing but death and ash, pieces of you falling like snow. A tangible, crushing darkness that surrounds you like a curtain of ebony. Pressing you down, burying you beneath the earth.

But I have been drowning these last years. Beyond anything I've ever experienced up to this point in my life. After I lost everything in that fire, it seemed a catalyst for a series of traumatic events that has since escalated in size and scale for what i have lost, or what has been ripped and taken from me. I have been hit by a freight train of imaginable magnitude over and over, back to back, each time escalating my pain to a level I have never known. The heaviest of grief and losses...events that genuinely seem a targeted series of organized events by the universe to test the boundaries of human nature - how much it takes to really, truly break the human soul beyond repair. I have so many things sealed away, locked in steel cages wrapped chains that I've been unable to even begin to accept, let alone process and heal from them.

These past few years I've known more pain than I could ever attempt to put into words.

El being hit by the car, her doctors telling us that she would live and simply needed amputation. Only to get a phone call 3 days later telling us she had several seizures in the night, and she had internal bleeding they couldn't stop. And so we had to say goodbye to her.

And then we lost another. I saw her lying there dead in the road while I was at home alone before Steve was home from work. I had to pull her stiff, cold and frozen body from the pavement and into a box. I remember it made an audible sound...pulling her off the ground. I had to put her intestines in the box with her body separately from her because she was burst open. Her insides covering the pavement in red. I paid no mind to traffic. Why would I.

I watched stony faced as Steve buried her once he'd gotten home, her siblings watching the whole time. Once she was buried, I shed not a single tear more. Just one more thing I hurriedly locked and sealed away in another box, another key to throw in the pile.

A week later, I found out that the man id loved and spent almost the last decade with, had betrayed me. Something I never even considered to be possible, something id never even considered him to be capable of. 7 years of complete trust, shattered. Jagged pieces spilled to the floor, just another piece of my soul chipped away and faded away into nothingness. Something I don't know if I'll ever get back.

And now, I don't even know where I am, who I am. I am a shell. I don't read anymore, play video games. Draw. Anything all I do, is sit and watch tv nonstop in my spare time. Anything to keep the input constant so nothing can squeeze out. So long as it keeps coming in. So I don't have to think, feel, anything.

Matt is dead. Ryan cut me out years ago due to jealousy of the girl he finally got a shot with, and just like that, I was cut out. Blocked on every form of social media, my number, everything.

And then this year, I realize that the last closest person in my life that I had left, had done the same. Blane. One day, after a decent period of silence, I come to the realization that he had done the same. Again I had been blocked on every platform, my number as well I assume. I understand that being who I am and given he now has a son, that he cannot jeopardize what he has no matter the reason. I understand that. All I had asked, was that he not forget about me. Just....don't leave. You're all I had left. Everybody else is gone. Everybody. Every person I have loved and been the closest to is fucking gone. Matt was and will always be my soulmate in the way that he and I were two sides of the same coin. He was my best friend for over 15 years. And he was ripped away from me, from his daughter, everyone who loved him. His car was crushed in such a way that the fire department had to cut him and his partner from their car. I think about that, I picture it, all the time. His bloodied, mangled and lifeless body crushed by the weight. What was left of it when his mother sent him into the fire to be cremated. A piece of him I carry with me every day around my neck, because I know I will never, ever, see his face, or hear his voice, hear him tell me that he loves me. I will never have him again. He didn't have a choice when the cruel forces of this universe just ripped him away. On Christmas day. He was stolen from me. Something he never had a choice in.

I lost Ryan years ago to another woman's jealousy, I lost Matt to one girls selfish reckless and careless actions... something that has since left me broken beyond repair. Finding out that I was intimately betrayed by the man who's supposed to love me. And then Blane was ripped from me too. Only by choice. I understand. I really do. I only asked to not leave me behind, he was all I had then. If he had just....told me, beforehand. Bracing me for the impact of losing him in his entirety. Not by realizing I'd been pushed out, locked out, blocked out. Finding out by chance one day, after months of no reply.

Three people I had never once considered that their absence from my life was a possibility. Two in particular.

I don't even know what I have left now. I don't know what is left of me. My pain has been compacted so deeply that I have truly been afraid that releasing any of it either by accident or design would lead to a break in my psyche that I would not return from. Every day I carry with me the weight of such loneliness, regret, rage. A harrowing grief that cuts through every inch of me like razor wire coated in shards of glass. Every moment it's like I cannot breathe save for a few gasps of air when I manage to claw my way to the surface of this crushing sea of loss. I haven't had but a moment to breathe before I am thrust back beneath the surface. It's been years of this. So much that I cannot even remember it all, only what I've been able to write.

I don't know who or what I am anymore. I don't feel human. I don't speak to anyone, I don't leave the house except to work, I can't do anything that I used to enjoy. I am so suffocated by loss, I am so blinded by grief and anger every moment that I am choked by it. I dare not open my mouth for fear that I could split the sky open should I scream at the heavens.

This is all I am now. It's the most ive said since I don't know when. It's just all I know now. This is me now. Whatever it is. God help me.

[fallinto-u]

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A post shared by Trevor Carroll (@trevorcarroll)

Sitting and trying to distract myself through a panic attack, I was scrolling and came across this video. As I listened and compared to the things that have been happening, huge part of me was resisting. But then also realized that in the past, after the worst of times and sometimes a huge reset, things did change for the better. Or if not better, into a different direction at the very least. Another direction eventually came with new opportunities.

If you remember, we talked about this resisting feeling when it came to trying to finish the Frequency book. That resisting feeling towards hope and positivity has been strong for quite a while. But watching this reminded me back of the mindset we once were able to have. It may have changed, and it may all seem pointless right now as we’re going through the worst. But being reminded of what my mind was once capable of, what state I could get into, gave me a little spark of hope and insight again. A small, very small dose of hope. And that’s scary, I may push it away and sabotage right after this again. But maybe with small repeated glimmers of these moments, it may eventually be rebuild again. Bit by bit.

It may sound cliché what's being said in the video but as I thought deeper about my situations, I do see some truth to those words. I do see that I'm literally being pushed into certain directions that wouldn't have motivated me enough if I had stayed in the exact same place. For example, my situation at home getting even way worse and more overwhelming has finally actually pushed me to take steps towards moving out. I don't know how I'll get there, it overwhelms and scares me, but at least I am taking action because I literally cannot stay in this environment for much longer.

As well as my mental health getting at the lowest I imagined it could get. If it didn't get this far, I would have been too anxious, resisting trying out new medication. Now I literally don't have a choice, and can't get that much more anxious on top of what I experience every single moment anyway. The new meds may hopefully benefit/support me in the long run to feel at least a little less anxious going through life.

Last example, and I'm sorry for oversharing and ranting here. But if I didn't get burnt out from life, being stuck at home almost unable to socialize at this point, I wouldn't have found my current therapist. This is the first therapist who comes with the insight that she's pretty sure I have autism and adhd. Adhd I suspected but autism? Completely new insight. But the more I learned about it, the more everything made sense. I thought of our conversations on topics related to that as well. A lot of things fell into place.

Yes all these examples seem to be a blessing in the end,but I haven't experienced them as such yet. I'm honestly still in the midst of hell and I'm afraid you are too. But this is the first time I'm at least able to see things in a different light.

If we were still talking I would’ve sent you the video. Not to force you to be positive or feel hopeful or any different. Rather just to remind you that once it was possible. To remind you that if you would ever want to, it is still available and out there for you. No matter how far you’ve wandered. You can always find your way back to a more stable path, or create a new one. In one of your voice messages I've recently listened to in a moment of despair, you said "You're never too far gone. It's never too late, I promise ". Also something along the lines of that even after the worst of storms, earthquakes and wars, people always rebuild. No matter how awfully destroyed everything is.

I’m always rooting for you. It’s fucking hard, but you’re doing damn well holding on every single day. No matter how you need to get through right now. I'm trying to remember and do the same. Each day we survive is a huge accomplishment, no matter how we had to make it work. You’re still here and trying. I’m proud of you always.

[percontaion-points]

Everlife chapter 8

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 8

The end of chapter 7: 

“We’ve got problems,” Archer says. 

“Tell me about it,” Tenley mutters. 

“The army...it’s already here.”

The start of chapter 8: 

Anger and frustration mount as Lina’s message plays through my mind. Neither of which will do me any good right now. Lashing out will make a bad situation worse. 

My emotions cannot dictate my actions. Right. I block the message and all its implications—for now—and focus on the matters at hand. 

Bea growls at Killian, the cutest little bundle of ferocity I’ve ever seen. 

Killian growls right back, though there’s no heat to the action. 

Unable to trust my husband at my back, I step away from him and toward Archer. Bea goes quiet, but turns her focus to me, as if daring me to make a move against her charge.

 “How many soldiers?” I ask him. “How many Generals?”

I love how Archer says that the army is there, but it takes a full business day for Ten to actually bother to reply. 

Do you see what it is that I’m dealing with here? Imagine that THE ENTIRE BOOK is like this. (Because it is.)

One of the reasons I choose to live in Troika? The people (supposedly) support each other in the best and worst of times. The people (supposedly) love each other. Didn’t take me long to learn that people are people, and no matter their realm, they are flawed. They make mistakes. Even Troikans sometimes let their emotions get the better of them. 

I figured out that Troika was going to be a steaming pile of shit almost as soon as the first book introduced us to the concept of this realm. The most frustrating part is that it took her this long to reach the same fucking conclusion!

Raanan’s guardian is a donkey named Pop Tart. Spot, one of the zebras, is working with Clay. Paco the parrot stakes his claim on Reed by perching on his shoulder. A black Lab named Frank remains glued to Clementine’s side. Gloria, a deer, is paired with Dawn.

NOBODY FUCKING CARES. 

I think the most insulting part about this scene is that, out of the 5 characters listed here, we’re only familiar with TWO OF THEM. 

When Ambrosine dies, his shadows will die with him. At least in theory. Myriadians could be freed from his evil influence, able to live life on their own terms. 

Something tells me that the next 300 pages will prove that this is not going to be the case. 

“I’m proof spirits can be saved from Many Ends,” Reed says, “but you forget. I never experienced Second-death while there. Others were not so fortunate. I witnessed countless murders. There, spirits vanish.” He snaps. “Just like that. What if they are dead for good?”

For fuck’s sake. How the hell does anybody even believe that after witnessing shit like the resurrection? There are probably five billion other afterlifes out there. 

“Bomb,” I scream, diving for Biscuit to cover him with my body. Boom!

Chapter 8 summary: Archer comes with the news that Lucy and some rando named John are moving in for them, but Shamus has turned and run off like the chickenshit coward he is. There’s also a message that Dior has been killed in a car crash earlier that morning, and that the TLs have discovered a warehouse full of people infected with the darkness.

This leads Ten down a weird thought spiral that takes up so much fucking time. She thinks about how Eron and Ambrosine are brothers, raised at the same time, with the same things. Yet she wonders why it is that Ambrosine went dark, without actually once thinking about possible child abuse. She decides that if she kills Ambrosine, then it will magically free everybody else from his dark influence. I said what I said about that. 

There’s this really dumb bit where Killian reminds her that he can read her mind. It serves no point, so let’s move on. 

There’s so much fucking padding in this chapter, and it takes so many left turns through really weird side-plots. Again, none of which actually serve any sort of point at all. 

But eventually, Ten asks Biscuit to take her to where Shamus is, so the two of them leave. After a while, they leave the city behind, and come to a forest. There, a shadowy figure lobs a bomb at Ten. 

[shotorozu]

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[rnisa]

Beyond Birthday Headcanons

Hi all, just some little Headcanons. Some are general HCs, other are x reader. As much as I love DN, there are too many empty gaps that just weren't filled, leaving so many questions unanswered. These are personal headcanons, you don't have to like them or agree with any - it's purely for my own enjoyment. NOTHING here is factual.

★BB left Wammy's when he was roughly 18. Up until then, he acted as a big brother figure for most of the children. Many looked at him as such, but he was quickly forgotten any time L was brought into the picture.

★ An obvious one, but A's sui'cide hurt him deeply. I don't think BB ever really liked being at Wammy's in the first place. He stayed as long as he did because it provided him certain comforts such as shelter and access to information, food, etc. Basically, it was just easier, and he stayed until he aged out of it. But he never liked the concept of being raised to succeed L. He hated what it did to A. However, he figured as long as he's there, he mind as well make the most of it - explaining the "taking L to the extreme" thing.

★ To add to the above, A's death was the final tipping point, what made him snap. He saw Wammy's as a sick institution rather than a goal.

★At a young age as a kid, he made comments, alluding to him having the Shinigami eyes. Of course he didn't have a name for what he was experiencing, but he asked about, "those numbers floating over your head". I think many adults passed it off as his imagination, but many of the other children found him creepy. Eventually, he stopped bringing it up once he caught on that it wasn't normal. Pretty sure he figured out what his eyes did when he lost both of his parents. He swore he would never love anyone as much as he loved them.

★ I do believe that BB was wrongfully medicated at some points in his life (given medication for things he didn't have, etc.) not out of malice intentionally, just...wrong diagnosis and negligence.

★ I think BB could have been saved. I am deliberately going against the canon here but, I honestly disagree with the ending that, "he was arrested and got killed by Kira in prison". Maybe it's wishful thinking but I could see L taking pity on him, and at least getting him help, hope for reforming him. Perhaps just as he's making significant process, he gets shanked by Kira, but still...I don't think L would have simply thrown his ass in jail and be done with it. Personally, I think L does feel sorrow over A's sui'cide, and is horrified at what BB became. L blames himself in a way. L wanted to save him.

★ ..Then again B could have just gone, "fuck your help I'd rather be in prison and rot," ...

★ After Wammy's house, we know he ends up in America somehow, and L was searching for him. He can't have been much younger than L. I refuse to believe they never...met? I think they did meet at a certain point, perhaps when they were very very small. B's imitation is based on what he thinks L would have grown as into adulthood - to the extreme, of course.

★ I don't think he was ever the type to harm other or animals as a child, but I do think he had a knack for starting fires and causing general mischief. It was always well thought-out, carefully planned mischief, that was the main cause for worry. He loved watching gruesome slasher and horror films way too young and was very desensitized very early on.

★ Didn't have a really healthy upbringing. I feel that he was close with one of his parents and they did their best but had a multitude of issues and were ultimately unequipped to raise a child. Love isn't enough when you're raising a whole person.

★ I think he could fall in love easily, but he himself thinks he is incapable of loving. He cannot imagine anyone possibly loving him, I think. At least romantically. He has his situation and his grand plan thought out too well and meticulously to really consider it, but I think he would love to flirt (poorly) and toy with people teasingly because he's turned on when people find him disgusting, or off-putting. I think someone reciprocating his advances would throw him off in a really funny way, but he's great at improv so he'll manage. Just a lot of tension building up until something happens.

★ This might sound weird but I can see him (coincidentally and unwillingly) falling for someone who was destined to die shortly after his sui'cide attempt. Oh god that's even worse imagine his heartbreak when he survives/is caught by Naomi and then his S/O dies not too long after. Oof.

★ His love is a bit obsessive but I can't see him...hurting someone he truly loves. Physically.

Feel free to ask for more...but this is long enough? If you agree or disagree with anything feel free to add on!

[thefanficmonster]

Innocent Life

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) & Child!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, Grief, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Swearing

Genre: Angst

Summary: As Ethan stands outside the ruins of Luiza’s house, looking the aftermath of the death he barely escaped in the eye, he cannot get the wails and cries of a child out of his head. Takes him a bit to realize they’re not a product of his trauma.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for the wonderful request, I had a blast writing it - what can I say, angst is my specialty hehe. Hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

How the hell is this happening? Why is this happening? Why to me? Why my family? Why were we the ones chosen for this suffering to be thrown upon? What did my daughter do to deserve this, for fuck’s sake?!

Why does everyone around me die? Why do I always loose everyone?

I’m the problem....

His knees are weak, his head’s spinning. His lungs have filled with smoke and ash so much he can barely breathe. His eyes sting, reddened around the edges, his vision blurry. However, what bothers him most is the mess that is currently his mind - swimming with the feeling of betrayal, sorrow and dread.

He lost so much so suddenly and in such a short amount of time. He lost Chris - someone he thought of as a friend but has now been replaced by a coldblooded killer and backstabber. He refuses to believe that’s still the Chris who saved him and Mia from Louisiana, he has to be dead.

Mia....

He lost Mia. He’s lost her before countless times - he lost her when he though she was dead, he kept losing her and getting her back at the Bakers’ residence as she switched between her monstrous form and being herself. He lost her again when they made it back, when her mind was clouded and darkened, when all she needed was solitude and when he wasn’t allowed anywhere near her as doctors upon doctors used her as a research object. And now he’s lost her again, this time for good. It’s just him and Rose now.

Or it would be if she too wasn’t taken from him, leaving him in the pit of grief and loss, both emotions at an intensity he’s never experienced before. Like a drill going through his heart, or a sledgehammer breaking it down to shards. Or as though his heart’s completely vanished, unable to take the anguish Ethan’s existence has become. The anguish that will live on for as long as he will.

Those three years of Mia being gone.

That nightmarish night back in Louisiana.

The horrific sight of dozens of bullets entering his wife’s body in front of his very eyes as he remained helpless.

The sound of Rose’s wailing cries.

God, he can still hear them. And oh so vividly. Like a cursed, haunting loop in his brain. If he closes his eyes he can almost imagine her being a few feet from him, near him, giving him the opportunity to soothe her, calm her down, tell her it’s all gonna be ok even if it seems like hell at the moment. Promising he’d make it all alright and make the right people pay for what’s happened.

But then finally, he picks up on it - the oddity in the cries he’s hearing.

They’re too realistic for a mind to be able to produce. They’re too loud and too close and are external. And, most importantly, they sound like the cries of an older child.

Ethan quickly snaps himself back to reality, coming to terms with the knowledge that the sounds he’s hearing are a part of it and not some dark corner of his mind. Despite the horror he feels and creep up, taking over his whole body in the form of cold sweat, he still takes a step towards the source of the ear-splitting and heart-sinking noise. It’s instinctively human to feel a sickening feeling of sympathy combined with the need to shield something so powerless from any harm.

To save an innocent life.

Heading towards the side of what used to be Luiza’s house he spots it - a crib on top of which there’s a pile of rubble and wooden planks. The thing seems to barely be standing and yet it’s harboring the child whose cries have now grown louder. Ethan’s frozen for a few moments, frozen with fear. Frozen with the overwhelming thought that there’s no way he can save that child. Frozen and powerless, just like he was on the floor of his own home as life left Mia’s body.

You didn’t do anything for her....

The sound of a crack in the already weak wood, seemingly coming from the child’s crib, sends all his senses on edge, his adrenaline once again starting to rush through his veins.

But you can do something for that child, Ethan! Do something before it’s too late!

Within the blink of an eye, Ethan finds himself standing above the unsteady wooden structure, putting all his strength into removing the rubble that has thankfully piled atop the wooden planks, preventing anything from landing on the baby and harming it. Hell, it’s a miracle it didn’t suffocate from the smoke in the first place. Its cries are put to a halt when its wide eyes land on Ethan, who’s looking back at the toddler with the same amount of distress.

“Hi there. It’s ok, you’re safe now.“ He finds himself breathing out shakily as his trembling hands reach down, picking up the now silent toddler. “It’s ok, little one. You’re a literal miracle, you know that?“ His gaze travels over the ruin the house has become, the house that was this child’s home. Its family’s home. This toddler knows loss much like Ethan does, or it will when it grows up. But as of now, it’s secured in the bubble of blissful ignorance due to infancy.

And Ethan has come across yet another bump in the road: making his way in the castle was already gonna be a difficult and possibly lethal venture, but doing it with a child in his arms, that’s a death sentence for both him and the kid.

“You and I have a thing for surviving hell, but not even I am willing to take the risk of taking you with me, kid.“ He gently caresses the toddlers head as its big awed eyes blink up at him with curiosity.

One one hand, a castle with horrors he’s yet to be familiar with; on the other, a village which’s horrors he’s already seen and experienced and would rather die right in this very spot than subject this innocent kid to them.

Ethan’s once again stranded.

“What do I do with you, kid? Being with me won’t bring you any good. I’m like a death sentence to everyone around me.“ His heart breaks as he says that because - in his mind and by his logic - it’s the truth. It’s the only thing that makes sense in such a nonsensical situation.

Then suddenly, an idea sparks, fueling what little hope and courage he has left and getting his legs to move from the spot they’ve been stuck in for the past God knows how long. That’s not important right now. What matters is that, for the first time since this nightmare started, Ethan Winters has a clue of what he’s doing. He’s got a plan.

                                                                *  *  *

“I see you have returned!“ The Duke greets him with his signature lazy smile before his gaze lands on the child in Ethan’s arms, his eyes widening in surprise, “Oh, and you’ve got company!“

“Actually...“ Ethan stops in front of the shop, adjusting his grip on the kid, “They’ll be keeping you company from now until....well, until I come back.“

“And where is it you’re planning on going?“ The Duke asks, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Perhaps you don’t suppose I know how to take care of a child.“

Ethan grows irritated, “Perhaps you don’t suppose I’m gonna take a kid into that castle you called me insane for wanting to go in myself. Trust me, I wouldn’t be leaving them with you if it wasn’t my only choice.” When he doesn’t receive a verbal response from the Duke, more of an expression change that suggested he’s accepting of this, Ethan grow relieved, turning to the toddler that hasn’t taken its eyes off him even for a second. “Hey, you’re gonna be just alright with the big guy, ok? He’s gonna keep you safe until I come back.” His initial intention was to say ‘even if I don’t come back’ but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it, not to the kid at least, “Until then...” He pauses when a name automatically pops up in his head, “Until then, Y/N, you’ll stay here with the Duke.”

After that heavy-hearted goodbye, Ethan reluctantly hands the kid - Y/N - over to the Duke, a shift they are not very happy about seeing as how they start wailing immediately.

“You owe me plenty, Mr. Winters.“ The Duke says with a frown on his face, displeased and already developing a headache from the child’s cries.

“I owe you nothing. What you’re doing is basic human decency.“ Ethan glares at him before turning his attention to Y/N, “Hey, it’s alright. I know you two aren’t big fans of one another, but I promise I won’t take long. I’ll be back before you know it.“ Planting a quick reassuring kiss on top of the child’s head, he steps away, relieved to find they don’t break out in a crying fit again.

With that peace of mind, he takes off on the path that’ll lead him to the castle. A part of him has found some peace, knowing that one innocent life has been saved.  However, there’s still one awaiting rescue. And he’ll be damned if he’s not the rescuer.

[film-in-my-soul]

Potion Problems - Kim Seungmin x Reader - NSFW Magic!AU

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Kim Seungmin

Genre: Magic!AU, Smut, PWP

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Fuck or Die (not really die but you get the point)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: A botched love potion? What's the worst that could happen?

A/N: This was written for @binniesthighs collab month! I cannot thank my friend Foxie enough for essentially co-writing this fic with me when I got stuck. I hope you all enjoy what is essentially 4k words of smut.

“W-we messed up.” Y/N is gritting her teeth as she says those words, sweating back pressed up against the farthest wall from Seungmin, who’s thrown himself away from her as well. The only thing between them, except for the empty space, is their slightly simmering cauldron, pink smoke rolling over the lip and curling thick as it falls to the ground and dissipates in the air around them.

Y/N tiny living room is filling up with the smell of sickly sweet roses and musk, even with the windows thrown open—a precaution to potion-making Seungmin had reminded her of an hour before where they are now, it’s suffocating.

She feels her pulse drumming in her veins, chest heaving as she clenches her eyes shut and tries to breathe as little as possible. It hardly matters. The potion has already sunk into their skin, a magical blow-back at an epic proportion from whatever they’d done wrong. Even though there’s a fuzz starting to build between her ears she’s running over it all again in her head.

What could it have been? She’d sourced her portions of the ingredients herself. She and Seungmin had brewed love potions before as well, in class and outside in clubs. Had they been overconfident? Missed a step? Whatever the case they’re fucked now. Love potions that are made incorrectly only ever have one result. They’d been warned over and over again in class and the discomfort at the prospect of it had always insured their care in preparing things.

Somehow it still hadn’t been enough. Accidents happen, sure, but this particular one has led to a “lust loop”—one of which she and Seungmin are caught in the middle of.

It’s like fire rolling down from her neck to her core and Y/N bites back a whine as a wave of arousal shakes her, followed by a cramp of pain when she does nothing to alleviate it.

Without conscious thought, her hand moves towards the heat between her legs and once she’s aware of it she shifts her thighs together, squeezing in the attempt to stave off the need pooling low in her belly. She’d never experienced anything as strong as this before and she can only imagine that Seungmin is probably in the same situation.

She looks over to him with blurry eyes, and he looks just as strung out as she feels, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes tightly closed. Y/N can’t look at him too long though, because her stare zeros in on a bead of sweat at his temple, sliding across his skin and she has the sudden and almost unstoppable urge to crawl over to him and lick it off. Instead, she digs her nails into the meat of her leg and looks anywhere else.

“We…” Seungmin’s words are cut off by his panting breath, like maybe his chest is constricted or he’s been running even though neither of them has moved. “We should try to get to different rooms.” It’s smart. Probably the best option. Get away from whatever potion fumes might be remaining and the temptation to jump one of her good friends. There’s just a small problem with that.

“If you c-can walk more than three steps I’ll eat my w-wand.” Y/N isn’t convinced she’s not shaking as more excitement crawls down her back and is chased with bolts of pain. She’s noticing that each time it happens there’s less space between the rippling desires and sharp twisting discomfort.

There’s motion, Seungmin trying to raise up to at least his feet but Y/N watches him get halfway up, into an awkward crouch before he’s hissing and dropping back down. He throws his hand over his eyes and his other is clutching at his shirt, like he needs to grip on to anything to keep him steady, despite being on the floor. Y/N understands how he’s feeling.

They’re both stuck there on either side of the room, holding in whines as the magic from the potion courses through their veins.

Y/N, in the last few minutes that they haven’t spoken, has resorted to recounting all different variants of a strengthening charm just to keep the focus off the pulsing of her sex and the way she can feel herself getting wetter the longer time passes. She’s always prided herself on control, calm-headedness, but fuck if she doesn’t touch herself in the next second she’s going to start crying and Y/N isn’t sure what’s going to be more embarrassing.

From across the room, a sound catches her immediate focus and Y/N’s eyes are snapping to Seungmin. He’s still got his arm thrown over his face, body slumped and knees pulled up to hide what is probably a very notable erection. That or to hide whatever his other hand is doing, blocked from sight. He’s got his lip in his mouth again, teeth working the skin. The noise had been a moan, choked and small, but a moan.

Y/N watches as his mouth falls open in a near-silent gasp and even though he’s wearing long sleeves she can see his arms shift and tense. She doesn’t think he’s jerking off but he’s still… still touching and that knowledge has her gut clenching hard and it hurts.

What little resolve she has snaps, and regardless of the repercussions she needs relief, her muscles clenching every time is getting harder and harder to ignore. Just something to take the edge off, she tells herself. Maybe she can ride out the effects of the blowback with pressure alone.

The second her fingers slip under the tie of her sweatpants and then beneath her underwear, she knows it’s a mistake. Y/N barely gets her lips shut as a whine bubbles up her throat. It’s good, it’s so so good, but it’s not enough. She’s wetter than she’s ever been and the sensation against her core is somehow almost satisfying enough that she could cry but not enough at all and once she’s started she can’t stop.

Her own noise seems to alert Seungmin of her actions because Y/N can feel his eyes on her and she’s got her own shut tight against the embarrassment cresting. She has to remind herself it’s not her fault, it’s the fucking potion, but still, she doesn’t stop the apology from falling as her fingers rub her clit, smearing her slick and making her breathless.

“Sorry… hnggg- s-sorr- oh fuck.” Already she feels her orgasm approaching, pleasure coiling and finally, blissfully, not edged with pain.

She thinks she hears Seungmin say it’s fine, he gets it, and past the thumping of blood in her ears, she can hear the shifting of fabric and those little moans again. Seungmin is probably caving too, now that he’s realized Y/N has. She pretends she can’t hear it out of respect but even with her eyes closed she can picture the way he’s gripping himself, trying to chase relief like she is and it’s… god she wants to see it. She doesn’t though, neither of them wants to be in this situation and she isn’t going to make it worse by being more of a voyeur than she has to be.

To pretend that the thought of it doesn’t get her closer to release, however, would be a lie and Y/N’s hips are rising slightly to meet the quick pace she’s set. A moan slips past her lips but the pleasure is building to its crescendo and she doesn’t have the resolve to hold it back. She’s so close, right on the cusp and… and...

Nothing.

She’s right there, lingering in a cloud of heavy want and absolutely nothing. She’s stuck. A whine pulls from her chest and the clench in her gut is just getting tighter, but there’s the pain again and no satisfaction in sight.

“I can’t…” she rips her fingers away from her clit, frustrated tears prickling in her eyes and immediately she feels the cramps again, fuck it hurts. “Seungmin I can’t.” She hears a nearly strangled groan in response and damn if that doesn’t just stir her up further.

“Neither can I, fuck, it’s this rebound…” Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever heard Seungmin swear before and it’s lighting her up like everything else he’s doing.

There’s only one clear solution. They speak in unison.

“I want to fuck you.”

“I need you to fuck me.”

A silence falls over them, their eyes meeting for the first time in what must be since this whole ordeal started. The living room is caught in a strange status after their mutual exclamation, a moment of uncomfortable stillness.

Then both Y/N and Seungmin snap into motion.

Y/N hardly has the frame of mind to feel shameful as they meet back in the middle of the room. Their cauldron is finally still, the reaction from incorrect ingredients no longer airborne. Fucking blowback. Still, she can’t focus on that for too long, hands finding Seungmin’s as they crowd into each other's space.

For the first few seconds, they’re just breathing each other in, both of their chests rising and falling rapidly. Y/N doesn’t know how Seungmin is feeling but she’s pretty sure there are needles under her skin and she is so hot. The sensation of Seungmin’s equally warm body pressing into hers is almost a balm to her own burning, it makes her sink deeper against him. His hands are roaming over her arms, up and down, each pass shoving up her quarter sleeves a bit more every time, like he’s trying to get under it and is a bit too mindless to realize he could just take it off.

Y/N hadn’t even realized her own fingers were digging into the boy against her, one hand on his back and the other trailing across his neck and exposed collar from where he’d popped three of the buttons on his shirt when the effects of the potion mishap had started. His skin is sweaty under her fingers and she’s not sure if it's the magic or just her own brain when she can’t help thinking it’s hot.

Y/N takes in a stuttered breath and tucks herself further into Seungmin’s chest, her arms looping over his shoulders just to get closer. She’s barely holding on to her self-control by a thread, the potion in her blood making her wet and needy.

“This won’t be weird right?” She asks against Seungmin’s throat, mouthing over his skin to taste the salt of his sweat and feel the thunder of his pulse beneath her lips while he shifts and moves to grab at her hips, pulling her into his lap. The way his cock, clothed but hard, grinds against her is breathtaking and she can feel Seungmin’s groan in her own chest but it might just be her own echoed back.

“Not if we don’t make it.” Right, yeah, that makes perfect sense. Honestly, Y/N has almost no brain function left to question this choice. They both need it, the magic already has vice grips on them both and they know there could be greater consequences if the spell goes ignored. Anything worse than this and Y/N doesn’t know if she’d survive.

There’s not as much talking after that. Both of them cast off the rest of their restraint, consent clear in the way that they’re moving against one another.

Y/N presses herself as close as she can, too distracted by the solid form of Seungmin’s body beneath her to try and start getting out of her clothes, all while Seungmin ducks down to suck kisses on the column of her throat.

His mouth is like heaven, the way he drags his teeth every so often before he traces any small bite he gifts her with his tongue. It all feels like fire where he touches but again, like when she’d been caressing herself, the pain doesn’t follow. The magic is satisfied for now.

Y/N rolls her hips, the pressure of Seungmin’s cock too tempting to keep still as it rubs against her clothed core. They gasp in unison and from there it’s more flurried motion, Seungmin’s mouth is harder on her skin and Y/N thrives on it, lips parted, moaning at the pleasure as they grind against one another, desperately chasing the high of lust that it brings. But soon they realize, even through the haze of their mutual arousal, it just isn’t enough, it’s good, fuck is it good, the way they grip at one another, but that pain is edging in again.

“Off, off.” Y/N reluctantly leans back to try and get Seungmin’s shirt off, hands pulling and fingers fumbling over the rest of the buttons keeping it around him.

The moment she gets the last button undone on Seungmin’s shirt she slips it down his shoulders roughly and all that skin, pale and spotless distracts her. Then her and Seungmin’s eyes meet again and everything slows down. The desperation in their grinding simmering into a delicious drag.

Y/N has always thought Seungmin was attractive. The most calm and dependable of their mutual friend group. A perfect study partner and unnervingly filled to the brim with dry wit and savage remarks at the ready for any occasion. Y/N wants to pretend that there’s no part of her that’s almost thankful for this terrible situation but she can’t. She’s always felt like they’ve been orbiting around each other, neither sure nor taking that last step forward… so neither bothering to, content in how things are.

And now he’s beneath her, touching her, needy from the spell but hopefully eager for himself. And he’s gorgeous. Flush high on his cheeks and hairline damp with the sweat they're both working up.

It’s heady.

Y/N has to get a purchase on him again, anchoring her hand back into his hair, probably a bit too hard, and the other on the side of his neck. His mouth is red from the kisses and marks he’s graced her skin with and Y/N is filled to the brim with the need to taste his mouth under hers.

It seems Seungmin is thinking the same because they surge together again and are kissing, open-mouthed and hungry for one another.

Y/N’s shirt is next to follow, a small pang shooting up her spine as she’s pushed away from Seungmin’s lips to let that happen but he’s on her just as quickly and the feeling dissipates, letting pleasure replace it easily.

His fingers dig into her skin and they’re working themselves up more and more as they ride out their pleasure still half-dressed. Y/N is close to sobbing at it, overwhelmed with every sensation running rampant across her body and the heat of the magic making her hot, hot, hot.

Already Y/N’s mouth feels slick and red, Seungmin taking every opportunity he can to nip and suck and drag her lips as they rut together. It’s getting frustrating again and the painful cramps of lust and dissatisfaction are back, twisting up her guts and turning her whines high and reedy. It must be the same for Seungmin too because he’s pushing her back off his lap to get to his pants, fly already undone from when he’d had a hand wrapped around himself earlier.

Y/N, as much as she’s bemoaning the loss of his mouth and hands taking her apart, gets with the program quickly. She’s wet and aching between her legs and sure whatever he’s got hidden away will satiate that ungodly need cresting so high in her body she feels like she might choke on it.

Eagerly, Y/N slips from out of her bra and sweatpants hesitating only slightly before she pulls off her underwear as well. Normally there's a chill in her living room but her body is feverish and she can’t feel it, especially not when Seungmin’s gaze is back on her once he’s got his jeans and boxers down to his ankles.

His eyes roam over her chest and down her body and Y/N feels lit on fire from it. And while he looks, so does she, eyes sliding down from his defined stomach to his cock, hard and red between his legs. It’s long but not ridiculously large and curves just so. Y/N wants it in her mouth, but she knows that it won’t do anything but get him closer to the edge of an orgasm he can’t tip over, and while she’s a tease on good days, today is not one of those. Mostly because good days tend not to involve love potion blowback resulting in lust that turns painful if not fulfilled.

But she digresses.

Instead, Y/N gets close again and wraps her fingers around his shaft, and when it forces a moan from Seungmin’s lungs, she leans up and kisses it from his mouth.

Being connected again, just skin on skin is enough for the constant burn between her ribs to simmer down and she chases the relief by holding Seungmin as close as she can, his own arms sliding around her as well until they’re flush together, naked and slick.

She can’t move her hand much like this but she’s not sure she should regardless. It’s a thought that’s validated a moment later when Seungmin’s soft groans turn into a sharp hiss and he has to pull away from their messy kissing, a string of saliva connecting their lips, one of his hands going to stop her wrist.

“It’s…” he’s panting, their foreheads pressed together, his eyes squeezed shut, gorgeous. “It’s too much, I need…” Seungmin’s eyes slide open and Y/N understands. She needs it too.

“Let me...get my bag,” Y/N manages to work out, thoughts like soup through a sieve between her ears, connections only coming out coherent when they boil down to getting Seungmin inside her.

Seungmin, however, doesn’t let her move anywhere. She wouldn’t have gone far but she can’t pretend that keeping contact isn’t one of her priorities either. Still, he seems to be functioning on more brain cells than she is because he raises his hand, whispering a spell against her skin.

In a split second her bag is next to them, and while Y/N curses magic for being finicky to the point she needs to fuck someone or else she’ll be in intense pain until it seeps from her pores, she’s happy it can also make the act a little easier.

Seungmin looks at her with questioning eyes, nodding towards her school bag while his hands trail up and down her sides before sliding to her front, cupping her breasts, fondling the sensitive peaks of her nipples until Y/N is distracted again, eyes rolling back as she feels the jolts of pleasure race to her sex.

She lets him caress her mindlessly for a few moments, almost sinking into the sensation to the point she forgets her purpose before the pain creeps in again. It’s getting worse, like pressure behind her eyelids as well as those digging cramps in her gut, the intervals of bliss much shorter.

Reoriented, she digs through the front pocket of her bag before she’s twisting back around with a small foil square between her fingers.

Love potion or not, she isn’t stupid.

Once the condom is brought out Seungmin is on Y/N more fervently again, pulling her onto his lap, knees spread on either side of his thighs so she’s flush against his body. She moans at the contact, feeling his cock against her center. She knows grinding against it won’t be enough and won’t help either of them so instead she kisses Seungmin hard and whines a plea against his lips, passing the rubber to him.

He hums into her mouth and pulls away, one hand holding onto her lower back while the other trails down until it reaches where she's wet against him. There’s hesitance as his two fingers trace between her folds, growing slick with Y/N need.

“Okay?” He asks, a gentleman still, even though they’re both equally as lost in everything, and it takes all of her not to do it for him. Instead, Y/N nods, moaning a soft “please, please,” while he rubs teasingly against her entrance.

When he finally pushes the first finger inside she shudders, the heat of her sex opening up to it easily, her body begging for him.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he whispers and Y/N melts even further.

It doesn’t take long for Seungmin to work his way up to three, even in the haze and flare of desire he’s considerate to her.

The whole time they kiss, shaking against one another. It’s only when Y/N is urging Seungmin forward, setting her mouth beneath his ear and down his jaw to give him marks of his own, does he pull away to clumsily rip open the foil pack. It takes a few tries, both of them shivering even though they’re burning up and the wetness between them, for Seungmin to get the condom on. He does though, and before they can fumble around to figure out positions Y/N is digging her knees into the shag carpet of her living room and raising up to take Seungmin’s cock into her like it’s nothing.

At the first stretch of his length, she’s tipping her head back with a satisfied moan, lowering herself quickly until she’s taken him completely. He’s so hot inside, shifting up to meet her even as Y/N takes a second to adjust and bask in the perfect way Seungmin is filling her up.

His hands are on her hips, gripping hard enough to brand and Y/N hopes that there’ll be bruises when all this is done. If this is eighty percent because of the potion and twenty percent the mutual attraction she knows is there, there’s no guarantee that she’ll get this moment again and she wants a reminder.

Y/N, deciding that she can’t wait any longer, the tightness coiling back in her body, raises up again and starts a slow but steady ride. It feels amazing, the slide of Seungmin’s cock and the way he leans back to meet her as best he can, his palms guiding her thrusts down and lighting her up inside.

The sound of their skin sliding, slick and getting faster, is mingling with their shared moans—Seungmin’s are softer, held back, unlike Y/N’s which she lets out, unabashedly. Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind though, stirred along even as he moves one of his hands to her shoulder, pushing her forward so her breasts are mouth level and he can lavish them with attention, kisses, and bites that have her squirming on top of him. Her hands go to his hair and twist the silky locks between her fingers. Every point of contact between them is ramping up, bliss building.

It’s not enough though, for either of them and Seungmin is tipping Y/N back, making sure she lands carefully as he looms over her, one arm hooking behind a knee while the other settles under her chin so that they can kiss easily again.

The new position, while not allowing Seungmin to get as deep, lets him move faster and fuck does he move. Seungmin’s hips snap quick and hard and Y/N has to screw her eyes shut against the pleasure, mouth falling open, kissing no longer an option, sounds rising uncontrollably as he chases his release, and dammit!

Y/N is close too, so so close!

“S-Seungmin, Seungmin, I- ah! I n-need...” she can’t get the words out, heat flaring up her spine as the boy fucks into her, kisses lines of fire across anywhere his mouth can reach, but he understands regardless.

“I know, fuck, me too,” He groans before pulling away. He sits up, setting her thighs on top of his own, the sex slowing down again. It doesn’t matter though, they’re both caught in the wheel of pleasure, so close to the edge. And then Seungmin is using his now free hand to drag his pointer and middle finger from Y/N’s navel to her clit and starts to work her over fast, circling her bud and making her back arch as shivers run down her body.

Finally. Finally.

At long last, after what must have been at least an hour, Y/N tips over the edge of her orgasm, and the pleasure rains down onto her like waves of tingling heat. She’s shaking as her vision nearly whites out and she comes.

Seungmin works her through it, rubbing and thrusting until her crying out stops and she’s just panting and shivering in the afterglow. Then it’s his turn, leaning back over for leverage as he works for his own climax.

Y/N feels it when it happens, eyes closed and fucked out as she is. Seungmin stills atop her, trembling where he’s touching, his sounds, almost punched out as he thrusts once, twice, and then for a final time, before he slumps, slipping out of her and leaning over her on one arm, careful not to land directly onto Y/N. He shifts and drops to his side, tucking himself against Y/N’s body, arm over her stomach, the both of them breathing through the final effects of their intercourse and the spell.

“Okay?” Y/N asks, an echo of Seungmin before. He hums in the back of his throat and tugs her just a bit closer, Y/N goes with it easily, turning herself so that they’re forehead to forehead again, messy and sweaty but sated.

For a few long minutes, they drift in silence, tired and floaty in the aftermath before Seungmin breaks it.

“I should probably ask you out on a date, right?” Y/N knows that if she could manage to get her eyes to open she’d see Seungmin’s stupidly attractive smirk. Instead, she just snuggles in closer, tucking herself under his chin.

“Yeah. Probably.”

[queenshelby]

Accidents Happen (Just Friends Part 8) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 3337

Tag List (Cillian Murphy):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders​ @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis

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@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby  

Note: This is fictional and doesn’t include reference to Cillian’s real children and wife.

Dublin to Birmingham

Just six weeks ago you and Max moved in with Cillian and things couldn’t have gotten much better between you.

Whilst you both took this step out of convenience and fairly early on in your somewhat fresh relationship, you were both happy and comfortable with your decision.

Max loved having Cillian’s children around and Cillian was slowly becoming like a father to Max, something he had never experienced before. He treated Max the same way he treated his own children and, sometimes, you wondered how you got so lucky. Even you and Cillian’s ex-wife had managed to build a reasonable relationship and, when Cillian wasn’t able, you would sometimes drive to her house to pick up his two sons. The age gap between you and Cillian didn’t bother her once she learned how you interacted with the children and once she met your son Max.

As far as your relationship with Cillian was concerned, you loved having each other’s company on a day-to-day basis. You often cooked together, took long warm baths together and played board games with the kids. But, most of all, you loved spending nights together in the same bed. It was not only romantic but comforting for you to have the man you loved by your side every night until quite recently.

Unfortunately, just as you settled into your new home, Cillian had to travel to England to begin filming the next season of Peaky Blinders.

This meant that you were going to be on your own for three weeks with Max before you would see him again in Birmingham, which is where your parents lived.

Whilst filming didn’t actually take place in Birmingham, Cillian was meeting you and Max there over the long weekend to finally meet your parents. It was your father’s birthday and, unfortunately, he wasn’t too fond of your relationship with Cillian.

Initially, you didn’t share much with your family other than the fact that you were living with Cillian and that he shared care for his two children with his ex. Furthermore, your parents had a problem with the age gap between you and Cillian after your father asked how old he was.

Your parents considered that age and the fact that you had three children between you might become an issue if you wanted more children of your own. You knew that Cillian didn’t want any more children and at this point, neither did you. Things were perfect the way they were and you hoped that your parents would accept your relationship once they saw how happy Cillian made you.

But, little did you know that, your parents would give him a much harder time than necessary when they first meet him.

On the Friday evening, when you arrived in Liverpool with Max, you were excited to see your parents. But, you were even more excited to see Cillian who you were meeting at the airport.

You had hired a car to drive to your parents’ house together. That way, you could drive back to Liverpool on the Monday with Cillian for another few quite days between you while your grandmother had planned to take Max back to Dublin.

In her opinion, you and Cillian were in need of some time together without kids. Unlike your parents, she adored Cillian and supported your relationship.

As you and Max got out of the plane and entered the terminal, you could see Cillian waiting for you from far away. He couldn’t be missed wearing the Thomas Shelby haircut and, unfortunately for you, other people recognised him as well.

But, he didn’t seem bothered by the fact that people were starring at him and took you into his arms before giving you a kiss as soon as you and Max approached.

He then proceeded to give Max a hug before offering you help with your bags.

‘Nice haircut’ you chuckled as you ran your hand over the back of his head.

‘Funny’ he smirked as he took your bag and walked with you and Max to the car.

You knew that he hated getting his hair cut with this style and couldn’t help but tease him.

‘I just love that I will get to meet your entire family while having this ridiculous haircut’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Trust me, at least three of my cousins get their hair cut the same way. You won’t be noticed as the odd one out’ you laughed.

‘Great, if I put on the accent, no doubt I will blend right in, eh?’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Well, you can stay in character over the weekend if you want’ you laughed before giving him another kiss as you arrived at the car.

‘You know, I really missed you’ you said with a warm smile as you sat down in the driver seat.

‘You are driving, are you?’ Cillian smiled before telling you that he missed you also and giving you another even longer kiss than before.

‘Yikes, can you stop this’ Max said with some embarrassment. He had gotten to the age where he thought that kissing was disgusting and girls were silly.

After you both chuckled about Max’s comment, you were on your way to Birmingham.

While you were driving, Cillian exclaimed that he was nervous about meeting your parents after they were already disapproving of your relationship.

What he also didn’t know that you never mentioned to your family what he was doing for a living. Unless your grandmother told them, they might be lightly surprised. But, the topic had never come up after, every time you and your father talked about your relationship, you ended up hanging up on him when he started to argue with you.

Nonetheless, you reassured Cillian that your parents will come around once they met him and see how happy you are together.

The Moment of Truth

After an almost 2 hour drive you finally arrived at your parent’s house.

‘Hi darling, how are you?’ your mum said as she hugged both you and Max at the same time before introducing herself to Cillian.

‘You must be Cillian. It’s nice to meet you’ your mum said as she shook Cillian’s hand.

‘Likewise, Mrs Y/LN’ Cillian responded with a warm smile just as your father walked through the hallway and greeted you and Max.

‘I am Y/N’s father’ he said somewhat sternly before shaking Cillian’s hand.

‘Cillian, nice to meet you’ Cillian said politely.

‘I figured. Now come on in’ your father said as it was rather cold.

Your mother was quick to disappear with Max and you quickly instructed her to give him too many lollies before dinner.

‘He looks somewhat familiar’ your father exclaimed to you while Cillian closed the car just as your youngest brother came walking through the hallway to approach you.

He immediately noticed Cillian and looked at him with some surprise.

‘No fucking way’ Brendan said all of a sudden while his eyes widened, causing him to receive a nudge from your father.

‘Language Son’ your father said firmly, causing Cillian to chuckle before he introduced himself.

‘I know man. Me and my friends love Peaky Blinders’ your brother said before introducing himself to Cillian.

Your father looked at your brother with some confusion until it clicked and he realised that Cillian was, in fact, part of the TV show he had been watching occasionally with your brother.

Your sister soon approached you as well and greeted you with a hug. She also introduced herself to Cillian. You had spoken with her about in him on several occasions previously and there was no surprise. Nonetheless, her first question was whether Cillian could introduce her to Finn Cole, causing Cillian to laugh.

After some introductions and small talk, your father showed you to your respective rooms and it became evident to you that he had arranged for you to share a room with Max while he had allocated a separate room to Cillian.

‘Dad, that’s a joke, right? You do realise we live together?’ you asked, while Cillian remained quiet about the situation.

‘And yet you aren’t married, so you will not be staying in the same bedroom at my house’ your father said, causing you to take a deep breath.

‘We should have booked a bloody hotel, that’s ridiculous’ you said.

‘Fine by me’ your father said before walking off.

‘Y/N, it’s two nights and Max hasn’t seen his grandparents for a while. We should stay for him, yeah?’ Cillian said quietly and you nodded reluctantly. As usual, Cillian was comforting and loving despite your father’s dislike for him.

‘I am so sorry Cilly, I don’t know what his problem is’ you said.

‘It’s alright Y/N. He is just being protective of you and that’s a good thing. I am sure he will come around’ Cillian said as he took you into his arms.

‘I know. It’s just that I am 25 years old and cannot sleep in the same bedroom as my boyfriend. It’s so ridiculous’ you said somewhat upset. After all, you wanted to be with Cillian desperately, share a bed together and possibly have some intimacy.  

‘I know’ Cillian chuckled before giving you a gentle kiss.

‘I cannot wait another two nights to be with you. It’s been three weeks since we slept together last and the Skype thing is really not the same’ you said suggestively as you ran your hand over his crotch hoping that no would walk through the hallway and catch you.

‘Y/N, stop. I don’t think your father would appreciate it if he saw us like this’ Cillian chuckled trying to push your hand away.

‘I tell you what, I will come to your room after everyone goes to sleep. Just for a bit’ you smirked trying to reach inside his pants, causing Cillian to get fidgety and laugh at the same time.

‘That’s a bad idea Y/N’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Why is that?’ you asked before telling Cillian that you have needs.

‘Firstly, this is your parents’ house and I do not want to disrespect their wishes. Secondly, you aren’t exactly quiet when we have sex and, thirdly, you told me on the way here that you forgot your pill the last couple of days when you stayed with your grandmother in Galway’ Cillian said.

‘Well, you will just have to pull out in time’ you winked, knowing very well that he had exceptional self-control after you found yourself in the same situation the previous months when you forgot to take it. After that, it had gotten to the point where Cillian reminded you to take it as you weren’t exactly consistent and somewhat forgetful, which also made you schedule a doctor’s appointment in two weeks to discuss other options in so far as contraception was concerned.

Just as your quick conversation with Cillian was nearing the end, your mother called out to you both to tell you that dinner was ready.

‘Coming’ you yelled out as you removed your hand from the inside of Cillian’s pants.

‘Thanks…gotta hide that now’ Cillian chuckled as he rearranged his pants so that his erection would be hidden beneath the large jumper he was wearing.

You giggled and both made your way to the dining room.

Dinner Interrogations

During dinner, your father managed to step out of line completely when he asked Cillian whether he always dated women much younger than him.

Luckily, Cillian remained polite and answered his question regardless of its inappropriateness.

‘No. In fact, I was reluctant about the age difference between us at first’ Cillian exclaimed.

‘Well, I was just asking since, with many actors, that’s the norm, dating women half their age’ your father said.

‘It is?’ Cillian asked surprised, causing you to laugh but your father didn’t appreciate the sarcasm.

The conversation soon escalated and Cillian excused himself and offered you to put Max to bed so that you can catch up with your sister and mother.

It was obvious to you that your father and Cillian didn’t see eye to eye and Cillian tried best to remain calm and keep the peace for your sake.

He joined you and your family again after putting Max to bed and, by that time, your father had received a lecture from your mother and was up to his second glass of wine. Things went much more smoothly thereafter and your parents also excused themselves at 9pm to go to bed.

Cillian went on to have a shower before giving you kiss and returning to the room that was assigned to him. He knew you would join him shortly. After all, he knew you well and he found it rather difficult to deny you especially when you were aching for him. You were a rather sexual person and demanding when it came to intimacy. 

And just like this, after you had a shower and checked on Max, you sneaked into his room wearing nothing but your panties.

Cillian was lying in bed with a novel, wearing his Calvin Klein briefs and reading glasses. The beside table lamp was dimming the room nicely and his muscular chest was highlighted by the shimmering light.

‘Good Evening Professor’ you giggled as you immediately jumped on top of him. You loved when he was wearing his reading glasses.

Cillian put his book aside and pulled you close for passionate kiss before taking off his glasses.

‘I love you, you know that?’ he said quietly and you nodded in response.

‘I love you too Cillian’ you said before kissing him again passionately before lifting up your hips to take off your panties.

There wasn’t much time for foreplay and you certainly didn’t need any. After three weeks, you were desperate for him and he was desperate for you.

You quickly threw the blanket to the ground and helped him out of his briefs before pushing him backwards so that he would lie flat on the mattress.

You climbed on top of him before you kissed again, fast, desperate and passionately.

‘Don’t forget to pull out’ you smirked just before your body began to slowly lower itself onto his Cillian’s lap, the head of his cock pushing against your opening.

He was hard, harder than he had been in a while. It was obvious to you how much he simply wanted to be inside of you.

The lips of your mound were slick, covered by your juices and the precum that had pooled at the tip of his cock.

As you moved your body further down, he penetrated you without resistance, relishing the wet, soft and warm grip of your opening.

You were just as tight as he remembered and a soft growl fell from his lips. Your walls contracted around him as he entered you inch by inch. It almost felt like a vice-grip, and the fact that he didn't immediately cum right there after three weeks of abstinence was a miracle.

You also couldn't believe how good it felt, after three weeks. You needed this desperately and you no longer cared about the fact that your parents were staying in the next room.

‘Hmm, I missed this’ you moaned quietly as more and more of his cock filled you.

Finally, your shapely ass rested on his legs, the entirety of Cillian’s cock throbbing inside you.

‘I missed this too babe’ Cillian whispered as you leaned in and kissed him deeply, pressing your small perky breasts against his chest.

You raised yourself slightly before lowering yourself back onto his hard member.

Cillian kept both hands on your hips, guiding you as you rhythmically bounced on his lap.

You felt yourself getting lost in all of this and your moans soon became uncontrolled, causing Cillian to gently place his hand over your mouth for a few seconds to muffle the sounds you were making.

‘You need to be quiet’ he instructed as the feeling of him being inside of you was almost dizzying.

You tried the best you could to remain quiet, but your efforts were futile as your humping grew erratic while you nuzzled your face into Cillian’s neck.

Cillian wrapped his arms around you and started to both lift you and thrust up, taking control of your movements.

His cock was slamming into you now, the sound of your ass cheeks being clapped competing with the squeaking of the bed.

Neither of you cared any longer as you got lost in each other. Surely, your family was fast asleep by now.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you whispered in between laboured moans as you moved in sync with each other and the head of his cock hit your cervix over and over again. His length filled you perfectly and it felt as though he was all the way inside your stomach.

As you rode him for what felt like an eternity, you could soon begin to feel your orgasm approach hard and fast and, whilst you usually tried to draw it out, you didn’t that night.

You came hard and forcefully, your body shaking as you did everything in your power not to scream and moan.

As your orgasm washed over you, Cillian once again covered your mouth to stop you from screaming out involuntarily. Usually, you were loud in the bedroom, so loud that you had recently been questioned by one of the children as to whether something was wrong.

Cillian made you feel so good that you lost control and his hand muffled the screams that escaped you as your walls contracted around him, squeezing his hard cock tightly as you orgasmed.

The sound of your panting and contraction of your tight walls around his cock pushed Cillian close to the edge as well. In fact, he was dangerously close.

While you rode out your orgasm, his was approaching, fast and hard and his cock started to pulse inside you.

‘Y/N stop’ Cillian said quietly as he held still, trying to reduce the pleasure you were giving him. But, you were in a trance, still consumed by your orgasm after three weeks of abstinence, and continued to move up and down on top of him.

‘Y/N, you need to stop… Fuck’ Cillian panted in between involuntary groans as he could feel himself throbbing inside of you rapidly. He could not hold back any longer.

You finally realised what was happening when you felt his hands grip your waist, trying to move you off him and asking you to stop once again.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian moaned as you quickly moved your body upwards, allowing him to pull out of you and, just in that moment, he came hard and fast.

You tried your best to quickly collect his hot and sweet seed with your mouth as you had planned. After all, this was something you enjoyed doing a lot. But, your efforts were partially futile and you would certainly have to find a way to discreetly wash the sheets tomorrow without your parents noticing. There was a lot, defiantly more than usual.

‘Close call’ you giggled after swallowing what you had collected and licking your lips suggestively before lying down next to Cillian.

‘Too fucking close Y/N’ Cillian said, still panting. ‘You won’t be going on top the next time you want me to pull out’ he said.

‘I am sorry. I just totally lost control’ you said as you curled up against Cillian’s chest.

‘I could tell. I hope your parents didn’t hear you’ he said with a slight chuckle before kissing you gently.

That night, you really wanted to stay with him, but you knew that you couldn’t and, after another few minutes of kisses and cuddles, you returned to your room quietly.

When you returned to your room you decided to change into your comfortable snoopy pyjamas which your mum had given you. They weren’t exactly sexy, but warm.

But, just as you stepped out of your black lace panties, you noticed a small amount of shimmery white liquid on the inside of them.

Hoping that it wasn’t what you thought it was, you ran your finger through your wet slit in anguish and observed a little more of it.

Perhaps the close call was too close after all.

[lyallblacklupin]

My Truth about you.

Remus has a tendency to practice self-deprecation after full moon when he gets new scars. This time it is a big one on his face. He thinks that he looks hideous, but Sirius is there to tell him otherwise. 

Remus smacks the book on the table so loudly that even students sitting at the ends of the table jerk from their seats.

The marauders are staring at him with hanging jaw and bulging eyes like hawks.

“You okay there, Moony?” James tentatively asks.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” Remus glares at him, aiming his index finger towards the bandaged wound on his cheek. It has been three days, and everyone is steering clear from Remus’ way. The last full moon was a disaster that mostly did damages to his face and neck. He hated facial injuries, not because they were difficult to heal but they made him look ugly—considering the fact, his boyfriend is ten times beautiful than he could possibly imagine himself to be.

The silence settles, tinged with discomfort.  The marauders go back to their lunch before they are running to their classes. Throughout the whole day including the supper, Remus’ mood was at the same foul place. Sirius is trying hard not to step on his nerve that might trigger and eventually cause Remus to curse and boycott everyone and everything. Remus can see it but pretends it to be unacknowledged. He knows that Sirius is the only person he can be himself with, but not with the others because, James and Peter included, everyone is eyeing him with weird looks on their faces that mostly blooms one thing: fear.

They all go to their dorm, and begrudgingly Remus flops on the first bed. He remains there with his chest glued to the soft sheets, his face buried too, sniffing a strongly familiar scent. Before he processes the picture of the person in his head, a voice calls him out.

“Moony?” It is soft like the petals of a fresh white flower and silky like chocolate. He doesn’t open his eyes. He can feel that the exhaustion of the day is dumping out of him, dissipating into thin air.

“Moons?” This voice is much clearer but he doesn’t dare open his eyes again because there is something on his head, brushing his hair. He can picture it. Long, slender white fingers are spreading and fisting his golden curls.

And then, a kiss. On the temple. So gentle that he wanted to sink into its holiness. He groans with the felicity of experiencing such celestial intimacy.

“Wake up, Moons. Just for a moment then you can go back to sleep, love.”

Remus opens his eyes because this time he is shaken by the figure that is intoxicating him with their presence. And there he is. Grey eyes like silver orbs staring at him with such solace and the rippling dark hair are let down. The sight is scenic. Remus asks himself why didn’t he just look at his boyfriend the whole day. He know if he had, his day would’ve been spent much better. The regret is not strong but sweetly painful because Sirius Black is the foremost person in his life and being ignorant to his presence is nothing but ungratefulness.

“Sirius…” And he smiles. Sirius Black smiles his delicate smile which is only reserved for him. He hums in response. “What are you doing here?”

“The question is, my dear Moony, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is my bed.”

“So? This is my bed, too.”

“Okay, okay, this is your bed too, Mr. Grumpy.” He chuckles but Remus continues to glare at him, “What!? Okay at least get up and take off your school robes. I’ll lend you my pajamas.”

Remus doesn’t move from his position because he knows if he surrenders, he will lose the chance of Sirius undressing and caressing him. There is always something ethereal about Sirius’ touch. He touches Remus like he is made of delicate glass.

And then it starts happening, Sirius is getting him out his school robes and shoes. The moment is pure bliss and dreamy. Once Sirius was done, Remus looks up to witness him staring at his face with an intense yet unreadable expression. He reaches out to cup Remus’ cheek, and then suddenly Remus flinches away. He hasn’t forgotten it. The ugly feeling started assembling back to him, making him feel all blue and dejected instantly. Sirius has caught that look on his face.

“Hey, don’t…” He whispers.

“Why not!? I’m hideous!”

“You are not hideous! You’re not even close to hideous! You are very attractive and beautiful—“

“Stop! Just stop. I don’t want to hear this, Sirius.”

“Moony…why? Why do you think like that?”

“I-I never had a scar on my face…before it used to be like the tiny ones on my nose or jaws or my lip or eye or…dammit! Everywhere! They are everywhere!”

“Shh…” Sirius draw close to him and made him sit up. He laces his arms around Remus’ neck, forehead pressed together, breathing each other in.

“This one is the worst, Sirius…my life is the worst! I mean if I was meant to be cursed with this physical affliction, the least God could have done was to spare me with its brutality! I don’t just go through this physical pain, it is the mental pain too! Where I have to stand before this bitter truth that tells me that I have no future. No job, no living, no healthy relationships, fuck! No health at all! I can’t pursue my education because I’m not a human. I can’t have a family of my own. There’s nothing I can have that a normal person does.”

And then he feels lighter. His heart is not heavy anymore. But tears are streaming down his face, wetting his hands in his lap. The most remarkable thing is that Sirius is still breathing him in. They are in the same position. But he doesn’t look up to hold Sirius’ gaze. Sirius is quiet like an obedient cat.

Remus’ hands move, as if they are automatically functioning, and clutches the fabric of Sirius’ shirt on his chest. He still doesn’t meet his eyes. He just clings himself to him. His head resting on his shoulder, and Sirius holds him by his waist.

“I’m sorry.” Sirius whispers in his ear, “I’m sorry you have to go through all of this. I know you said that you don’t want to hear it but it's the truth and you deserve to know it. You are perfect to me. And I don’t think I can be more honest about that. Look, Moony,” He pulls away gently to meet Remus’ eyes.

“Do you care about others’ opinions about you?”

“No—“

“Do you care about our, me, James, Lily, and Peter’s opinion about you?”

Remus knows what answer Sirius expects, but today—at the moment—is Remus’ truth day, he cannot say things that he meant half-heartedly. The truth is and has always been this: He only cares about Sirius Black. It is a mad truth but it is what it is. He was mad. Madly in love with Sirius Black.

“Moony?” Sirius’ eyes narrow down on him skeptically.

“I care about what you think. I care about you, only. It’s strange and weird and insane but it is…it is my truth.” Remus has said it, and there is no turning back because Sirius is looking at him blankly. His face is flushing, his mouth is in a thin line. He presses harder. His lips become thinner, his jaws clenched and his nostrils flares slightly. It is not anger. Remus can tell. He knows him. More than he knows himself. He is trying not to cry but then there are tears floating in those eyes and then fell simultaneously. Then they are falling.

“I just…can’t see you like this…” Sirius says, and Remus knows he is struggling with his voice.

“I’m sorry—“

“Are you mad? No, you don’t have to say sorry, you idiot.” It makes Remus smile because they conversing in whispers and it feels so beautiful, “Of course, you can say all those things to me, you know vent out, don’t keep it inside you. I just…get you know, anxious. I want to make your pain easier for you. I know how much you suffer but I can’t feel exactly how you do. And it makes me feel indebted, I guess? I don’t know…I just want you to be happy.”

Remus tugs a lock of Sirius’ dark hair behind his ear. His index finger still lingering there.

“Remus,” Sirius continues, “I can’t promise to fix all of your problems, but I promise you that you will not be alone in dealing with them. I’m gonna be here as long as it takes, no matter what and how. I love you, you know that right?”

Remus nods at him, blinking away the tears. Sirius leans into Remus’ left and plants his lips on the cheek which has the long jagged scar. His lips are there for longer than they should have been. He is kissing the scar as if it is something sacred.

And just like that, he uses Remus’ position as leverage to make him fall on the bed. And Sirius lays his head on his chest as he grips his torso. Remus can smell the coconut shampoo from his hair.

“You’re beautiful. And that is my truth.”

Remus hears Sirius say before the sleep drifts so quickly by the aid of each other’s warmth and love.

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #4-6

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,133

Summary:  I don’t deserve you, little love of mine. Not one damn piece of you.

Warnings: angsty fluff, night terrors, PTSD, Ezra dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, overuse of space metaphors, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: As always, thank you readers for your support! All the love to each one of you! Hope you like these new segments 💖

Entries #1-3 #7-9

Cross-posted on AO3

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

I feel a little less torn after speaking with Cee, hearing her voice crackling across the radio regale me with details of her current studies at Cero Tol, the latest novel she’s devouring, the daytrip she made to Lao to collect shells for an art project—it reminds me there was a sliver of profound goodness to come out of my otherwise disastrous journey to the Green. She rambles and babbles and laughs at her tongue’s inability to keep up with all she has to share. Her soul has found exactly what it has always yearned for: a life of her own making.

For all that she lost on the Green, she has adapted to her new path and overcome every obstacle with the same bullheaded determination a helianthus possesses. Never losing sight of her goals just as the flower never loses sight of the sun. 

I must admit I’d been reluctant to split ways with her after our perilous escape from the Green—after all, nothing bonds people together faster than the collaboration of slicing off an arm and creaming the gaping wound shut, then immediately engaging in a bloody conflict with heavily armed mercs—but she deserved better than to live a floater’s life tainted by a lack of morals and the uncertainty of not knowing if she would survive from one sunrise to the next.

She deserved to live a life amongst her own peers. To rouse that spark of creativity her father tried to extinguish. To turn gold in all the ways I cannot. 

Sending her to school was worth every point and credit we managed to scrape together. Still, I remember how bittersweet it felt watching that little bird, ever so fearless in the face of sudden change, march right up the ramp of the freighter at the Pug, determined to make me and you proud by excelling at the academy. Standing amongst the sea of parents waving goodbye to their children, I wrapped my arm around your waist, rested my head atop yours, and forced myself to swallow a harsh pill of truth.

With or without me in her life, Cee is going to be just fine.

I remember how you swung our linked hands as we walked back to our ship, your sweet voice a soothing balm easing the ache of my melancholic heart. Ezra, she’s fierce and bold and strong. That little golden child is going to have her name written in the stars one day.

Kevva do I hope I live to see your vision come true.

First thing I remember noticing about you was your eyes. Remember how I caught you staring at me from across the bar? You looked at me like I was your North Star pointing you home, like I was something shiny and special. You scared the fuck out of me. It’s the worst thing I ever thought, but it’s true. I would have fled the scene if your gaze hadn’t anchored my soul. 

You introduced yourself, and I knew goodbye would never be a word exchanged between us. No, we became a pair of binary stars, constantly orbiting each other round and round, hello again and see you soon. Falling in love with you was inevitable. The Currents designed you perfect for me. Designed you with meteorite in your bones and sunlight on your lips and all the constellations sparkling in your eyes. There is no grander form of paradise than to feel you beneath my hand. There is no comparison. No second place contender. Just you, your tender heart, and the galaxies you contain. 

Sometimes, late at night when you’re asleep and my thoughts are too loud for my head, I stare at the ceiling and speculate about alternate verses. Verses starring another me and another you crisscrossing each other’s paths as we’re pulled across the galaxy by our heartstrings. Somewhere, there is another me who never escapes the ruthlessness of the Green and breathes my last with Inumon’s knife in my lungs. Another me who will never know the emotional and physical anguish that accompanies the loss of a limb. Another me who pulls the thrower’s trigger without hesitation, firing a shot between the wide eyes of an innocent girl. Another me who ignores the temptation of harvesting aurelac in hopes of making a reputable name for myself. 

Somewhere, there is another me who ran away from another you.

And it pains me to wonder if perhaps you’re happier never knowing me.

I speculate about those two most of all.

I woke up to screaming. My mind was a tangled mess, caught between the thin barriers separating reality from dreamscape, and I was truly convinced my head would explode from the noise. Inumon wouldn’t stop screaming no matter how hard I squeezed my fingers, no matter how much of my bulk I pressed down upon her. It’s me! She wailed like an animal in a trap, sensing impending doom but unable to flee from it. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me! Please, Ezra!

A thought crossed my mind, as sudden and blinding as a shooting star streaking through the midnight sky, and I found myself incapable of ignoring it. How does she know my name? I had cloaked my identity using a dead man’s name. It wasn’t feasible for her to know the truth or for the sound of my name coming out of her mouth to set my skin aflame. 

There aren’t words to describe the horror which consumed me when I looked down upon your tear-stained face. 

My mama once told me everybody’s a sinner. We have wickedness embedded in our cells from womb to tomb. It buries its roots deep, resistant to our attempts to rid ourselves of its corruption, and waits for the precise moment to inflict pain upon those we love most. Those who choose to love us despite the warning signs.

In the aftermath, when my fucking fingerprints were smudged across your throat blue and purple, you held me like I was a human and not a monster or a vexation or a broken thing to toss aside. I couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop my mind from conjuring a torturous loop of what ifs. 

What if I hadn’t stopped myself? What if you hadn’t broken the nightmare’s spell? What if your last word had been my name? 

Hush, you whispered. My tremors worsened upon hearing the raspy quality of your voice and you pressed your lips to my forehead. An undeserved benediction. I’m here. You haven’t lost me. 

I don’t deserve you, little love of mine. Not one damn piece of you. If I could I’d give you the whole galaxy, but I only have one hand and it terrifies me to risk letting you go. Forgive me, please, for asking you to stay with me.

Forgive me for how much I dearly love you.

Notes:

Cero Tol is a made up academy based on Cerro Tololo Inter-American Observatory located in Chile. 

Lao is an island planet(?) mentioned in Prospect. Damon tells Cee she was born there.

Helianthus is the genus for sunflowers. I liked the fanciness of it 🙂

Points were referenced in Prospect as a type of currency. Credits are a Star Wars form of currency that I thought would also be fitting to use.

Binary Stars =  a system of two stars in which one star revolves around the other or both revolve around a common center.

I like to think there are alternate realities or a multiverse. It’s fun to imagine all the different possibilities another me is experiencing. 

I don’t think I’ll ever understand why guns in Prospect are called throwers, but that’s what the creators decided so that’s the terminology I’ll use too.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan, @melobee, @randomness501, @captain-jebi, @artsymaddie, @happiestsparkleofall, @gallowsjoker, @vintagesaph, @sylphene, @chibi-yuki, @freeshavocadoooo, @stilllivindue2spite, @pointy-sharp, @leilei-draws, @over300books, @theocatkov, @oh-no-a-whovian, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world, @lin-djarin, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @coaaster, @waywardmando, @thisshipwillsail316, @grogusmum​, @asta-lily, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos, @absurdthirst, @disgruntledspacedad​, @read-and-rec​

[lillotte17]

Blossoms on a Bough

Fix-it/filler for the end of episode 36!!!

~

The first thing Wen Kexing notices, once his mind has floated up towards any sense of consciousness, is a bright cool light shining on his face. His brows twitch downwards in irritation, the intensity of it stinging his eyes even while they are still closed. His body feels like lead, and his thoughts are thick and muddy. He just wants to ignore the light and drift back off to sleep.

Wherever he is, he seems to have landed on something relatively soft and warm. It is surprising, since his general ideas about the netherworld involve darkness and cold, but he is certainly not going to complain. Perhaps, given the long list of his transgressions, his soul flew right past the Yellow River and dropped straight into hell, and now he is being fried in a pot just like that chicken that had chased Chengling around the Four Seasons Manor. The thought makes him want to laugh, but there is an odd tightness in his chest, so the best he can manage is an incredibly weak cough.

A faint rustling of cloth sounds by his ear as whatever he is reclining on shifts slightly. There is a vague sense of presence nearby, but he cannot tell more than that. Almost against his will, he cracks his eyes open to see who might be trapped in the stew pot with him, but there is only a dark looming blur surrounded by pale watery light. It makes him think of Zhou Zishu; his face bathed in sunshine, in moonshine, in starlight. He always seemed to glow with something intangible and dream-like. And Wen Kexing -helpless little month- could do nothing else but follow after it.

“Ah Xu,” he exhales in the barest of whispers.

A scent lingers in the air around him, crisp and lightly musky. It reminds him of burying his fingers in long dark tresses. Of the tenderness and care taken combing the tangles out of them afterwards. Of sliding his own hair pin into the carefully twisted knot at the crown of Zhou Zishu’s head. He should have brought him a different one to replace it, he thinks blearily. The key was most likely lost or broken in all of that snow, and now he will have nothing to remember him by.

This place is strange, wherever it is. Soothing and disorientating all at once. Is it some sort of hallucination? Did his soul get lost somewhere between life and death? Is he a true ghost now, doomed to wander the world in hopeless despair, witnessing joys he can no longer take part in? Thoughts spin around in his head in a billion tiny fragments. He cannot quite seem to catch hold of any of them, or arrange them in a pattern that makes sense.

“Am I dead?” he wonders aloud, his voice thin and raspy, not expecting an answer.

“You fucking better not be,” a cross reply rumbles out from somewhere above him.

Wen Kexing blinks. The sun still burns his eyes, but after a few moments of intense squinting, the dark blur leaning over him reconfigures itself into a familiar and beloved face. Zhou Zishu, leaning back against a dusty wall with Wen Kexing pulled more than half way into his lap.

“What…happened?” Wen Kexing wonders, head positively spinning in bafflement. Now that he is waking up a bit more, he is becoming more aware of his body’s aches and pains. It feels like a horse kicked him in the chest and then he fell into a river and drowned. Even wincing hurts.

“Something went wrong with the ritual,” Zishu tells him. His voice is raw and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks as haggard as Wen Kexing feels. “You collapsed. Your heart meridians were severely damaged, and your hair turned white. You must have used too much of your internal force. It has been more than three days since you lost consciousness and…I thought…”

His voice splinters and he trails off, looking away from him for a moment.

“But…it worked?” Wen Kexing presses, trying to feebly grip at Zhou Zishu’s sleeve, “You can hear me talking again now, so that means that it worked, right? The rest is fine, so long as it saved you.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Zhou Zishu answers, the first traces of a smile pulling at his lips.

“Yes. You are here.” Wen Kexing echoes, as though he still cannot quite believe it, “And…I am here, too.”

“You are.” Zishu confirms, his arms tightening around him, carefully tugging him up until he is all but leaning into his chest. “It was a near thing, though. My medical knowledge is limited, and even with the Yin Yang book, I was not certain that I could heal you.”

“Rong Xuan’s wife allegedly used the teachings in the book to heal his heart meridians and other serious injuries when he was near death several times over,” Wen Kexing hums thoughtfully, casually tilting his head against Zishu’s shoulder, “But she was an experienced physician. You have had no training, and yet you saved me on the first try. You must possess some kind of natural affinity for it. Ah Xu, you have so many talents, I am having a hard time keeping track of them all.”

“It had nothing to do with affinity,” Zhou Zishu huffs, sounding exasperated and perhaps even the tiniest bit embarrassed, “It was pure dumb luck.”

“Eh?”

“The Four Seasons Sect has a special technique that cripples someone’s heart meridians,” he explains somberly, a humorless smirk on his face, “I used it against Prince Jin to keep him alive, but bedridden. My master taught it to me, and as far as I know, I am the only one left alive who knows how to perform it.”

“That is very interesting, Ah Xu, but I am not certain I understand what it has to do with dumb luck,” Wen Kexing says smilingly.

“My master…he also told me how to counter the technique, so that the person’s heart meridians could be healed again and their qi could flow properly,” Zhou Zishu continues, turning his head slightly to directly meet Wen Kexing’s gaze. “I did not have much hope when I opened the Yin Yang book. You were slipping away, and there was no time for in-depth research. But…when I found the section detailing how someone with damaged meridians might be cured, it was obvious that…the techniques I learned from my master were based on this knowledge.”

“So…that means…my parents…?” Wen Kexing looks a bit lost at the revelation.

Zhou Zishu nods.

“It is likely that Lady Yue Feng’Er and your parents shared this precious knowledge with their friends, and possibly even helped my master develop this skill. I was only able to save you because of this.”

Wen Kexing furrows is brows, his thoughts whirling and his emotions complex. He seemingly stares at the dark blue of Zhou Zishu’s lapels for what feels like ages, looking but not seeing, pensive and moody. Finally, he lets out a very tired-sounding sigh.

“And I only managed to save you because that dumb bastard Rong Xuan stole the manual for the Six Cultivation Techniques,” he says, sounding bitter, “But maybe no one would have needed all this saving in the first place if that old monster had never let his idiot disciple leave the mountain to begin with.”

Zhou Zishu frowns down at him.

“I know, I know,” he mumbles, a bit sulky, “The past is past. Zhao Jing was punished and the rest are dead. There is no point stewing on it now. I have just…been angry about it for so long, sometimes I forget that I don’t have to be anymore. Be patient with me, Ah Xu.”

“Hm?” Zishu blinks, as though suddenly coming back to himself. “Oh, it wasn’t about that.”

“Then what?”

“I was just thinking that…it really could not have been anyone else,” Zhou Zishu tells him slowly, intensity burning in his dark eyes. “I said it was only dumb luck, because I never believed in destiny all that much before. If you want to achieve something in this world, you have to be willing to create it for yourself. But…for things to end up this way… It had to be you, and it had to be me, didn’t it?”

Wen Kexing bursts out laughing, utterly delighted.

“I always knew you had a soft heart beneath that tough exterior,” he grins, slightly breathless, with an almost pleasant ache in his ribs, “But Ah Xu, I never imagined that you were secretly a romantic.”

“Shut up,” Zishu grunts, pinching his arm until he yelps, “Who is romantic?”

“Ai, there is no need to be shy about it now, is there?” Wen Kexing says pleadingly, giggling to himself all the while, “There is no one here except us.”

“That’s right,” Zhou Zishu agrees blithely, a truly terrifying expression stealing across his face, “There is no one on this entire mountain except for you and me.”

“Ah Xu, don’t do anything rash,” Wen Kexing cajoles with a hint of genuine nervousness, “I only teased you a little bit, and I am still in such a delicate state of health. If you throw me out in the snow and beat me, I really won’t be-”

Zhou Zishu kisses him then, and whatever he won’t be promptly flies out of his head like a startled flock of birds.

The kiss is softer than he would have guessed, if he had gotten a moment to anticipate it. Clumsy, but tender. Hasty, but sincere. The mouth pressed so suddenly against his own trembles just slightly right before it pulls away. A thousand years too soon.

It is nowhere near the first time they have kissed each other, but Wen Kexing is almost always the instigator. It suits his own preferences to take the lead in most physical forms of intimacy anyway, so he would never complain about it. However, it does make the times Zhou Zishu reaches for him first feel more…something. Something that makes his heart full, and his eyes itch.

It makes him feel as though he is not only being accepted by this man, but chosen by him, too. As his partner. As his equal. As his friend. Lovers and soulmates and all the rest.

Wen Kexing is not certain that anyone else has ever chosen him before.

Not when there were other, better, options on hand, at any rate.

He swallows thickly, gazing up at Zhou Zishu with wide, startled eyes. Little flecks of cold mountain sunlight catch in the dark sweep of the other man’s hair almost like snowflakes. His grin is wide and fierce. Buoyant and hopeful in a way he has never been in all the time they have known each other. He looks impossibly beautiful, and horribly pleased with himself for managing to derail Wen Kexing’s usual babbling. There might be the slightest touch of pink to his ears, though.

“Ah Xu,” Wen Kexing chokes out.

I love you.

But the words get stuck in his throat.

“What?” Zishu laughs, “Do you ever get tired of calling me?”

“No.” Wen Kexing offers him a weak smile in return, shifting out of his hold a little so they can sit facing one another.

Zhou Zishu heaves an exasperated sigh, but his eyes remain bright, his expression one of incalculable fondness.

“Is that all you were saying during the ritual?” he wonders, half joking, “You just sat there calling my name?”

“Huh?”

“You said earlier that you had tried speaking to me, but my hearing had gone,” Zhou Zishu reminds him, “What did you say?”

“Oh, yes, it was mostly just your name over and over,” Wen Kexing nods, “Plus a few embarrassing personal anecdotes I felt like sharing. Once I knew you had no way to stop me, I really couldn’t help myself.”

“Lao Wen.”

“Yes, Ah Xu?”

“After all we have been through together, what could you possibly still have to tell me that you think I would be unwilling to hear?”

Wen Kexing makes a face, caught outright.

“It…is not so much a matter of thinking you would not hear me out,” he admits carefully, “It is more that there are just things that are difficult to say to someone. The more important they are to you, the harder it gets, so between you and me… But when a man feels his end has come, all sorts of things seem to tumble out unwillingly.”

Zhou Zishu looks positively stricken.

“You could tell that the cultivation technique was backfiring?” he hisses out, gasping Wen Kexing by the shoulders, “And you still kept going?”

“What else could I do?” Wen Kexing asks helplessly, “If I had stopped wouldn’t we both die? Would it be better if I had starved to death with your corpse in my arms? Besides, that old monster promised me that this technique could save you, so no matter what the cost was going to be, of course I-”

“So, you knew there would be a cost already?” Zhou Zishu cuts him off, expression like a brewing storm cloud, “You knew this was likely going to injure you, and you did not even think to warn me first? We could have prepared beforehand! You could have looked through the Yin Yang book and point out things that I could use to help you in an emergency! Dammit, Lao Wen, I thought you were supposed to be smarter than this!”

“Was there really time for things like that?” Wen Kexing argues back, “Your senses were already dying out one by one, if we did not try the technique as soon as possible, you might not have been able to complete it! If I told you how risky it is, would you agree to it? Would you still let me try to save you?”

“I deserve the right to make that choice!” Zhou Zishu shouts hoarsely.

“You do!” Wen Kexing agrees just as hotly, “But I owe it to Chengling to save his family. And I owe it to our master to save his teachings. And I owe it to you most of all. I ruined your chance at happiness. To rebuild the Four Seasons with Chengling and the other new disciples. You threw it all away to try and avenge me… The number of people in this world who have been good to me are few enough to count on one hand. I would do anything for them, and you most of all. How could I live without repaying this debt?”

“And what if I hadn’t been able to save you?!” Zhou Zishu demands thunderously.

“I didn’t expect you to save me!”

For a few moments, the words seem to echo of the cold walls of the armory, bouncing back at them over and over. The silence that follows after them is deafening. Zishu’s eyes are red, and his hands are trembling on Wen Kexing’s biceps, but he looks as though he is about to breathe fire.

“Good,” he says finally, his voice low and deadly, “Very good. You feel like you owe me so much, but all you want to do is torture me.”

“What?” Wen Kexing baulks, “No! Ah Xu, that’s not what I-”

But before he can finish the thought Zhou Zishu has already pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace, his breathing erratic, and his face buried in the side of his neck. Wen Kexing makes a pained grunt, his ribs still tender from previous injury. It only makes Zishu’s grip on him tighten, however, holding onto him with a furious desperation.

“In such a short stretch of time, I have had to see you dead or dying before my eyes over and over again,” he mumbles thickly into the silk of Wen Kexing’s robes, “You spent all this time chasing me down, pestering me to let you stay by my side, begging me not to die, and telling me to find things to feel hopeful about. But now it seems as though you are set on leaving me behind.”

“I never wanted to leave you,” Wen Kexing protests, but his voice seems to have lost all of its strength, “I just wanted to keep you safe. Even if I died, and you had to be sad for a while, you have so much left to live for, and I wanted you to have it. I just wanted you to be…happy.”

“Bastard,” Zhou Zishu laughs wetly, “Wen Kexing, you really are…the absolute worst sort of person.”

Wen Kexing sags in his embrace, his heart plummeting down into the pit of his stomach. His head droops, white hair falling across his eyes. Utterly defeated.

“I know.”

Zhou Zishu finally pulls back from him. There are obvious tear tracks down his cheeks, but he still looks fierce, regardless. He takes Wen Kexing roughly by the chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“You are also…my happiness.”

Wen Kexing gapes at him, for once in his life completely at a loss for words. Seeing an opening, Zhou Zishu takes the opportunity to kiss him again. Harsher this time. Brief and chaste and biting. It does not seem to help the other man’s sense of bafflement in the slightest. Indeed, Lao Wen looks as though his soul might have just flown straight out of his body.

Zishu smiles at him again, but there is still something sharp and wounded at its edges.

“Eternity would be an empty place without you,” he says quietly, “How could you leave me to bear it alone?”

“I…I’m…sorry,” Wen Kexing sputters, as though he does not know what else to say. He finally reaches back for Zhou Zishu, cautiously taking hold of his wrists. The ache in his chest seems to have spread outward, and he is shaking so badly that he fears he might not be able to sit up straight much longer. “I’m sorry. I just did not… I did not know how else to save you.”

“Mn,” Zhou Zishu nods in understanding, “I suppose I can forgive you for it this time, although some part of me still would like nothing so much as to throw you outside and beat some sense into that thick skull of yours.”

“I will accept any punishment you want to give me,” Wen Kexing tells him earnestly.

“Alright,” Zhou Zishu grins, “Then pay me back with your whole life. Stay alive, and stay with me. Always.”

Wen Kexing blinks in surprise, but the next moment he is laughing. Dizzy with relief and unexpected joy. Marveling at the gifts that fate has blessed him with after so many years of hatred and heartache.

“I can do that.”

~

When Zhou Zishu wakes up later that night Wen Kexing is sitting at the opposite end of their makeshift bed in nothing but his under robe. His back is facing him, and he takes a moment to stare at the snowy cascade of his hair. The living proof of what Lao Wen would sacrifice for him. It looks beautiful on him, as everything else seems to, but Zishu thinks he prefers the rich dark brown that he was born with. This new color comes with a twinge of guilt.

Not that he would ever say so.

“Lao Wen,” he calls softly, “What are you doing?”

Wen Kexing’s shoulders stiffen in surprise.

“Don’t come over,” he replies, “I’m not finished yet.”

“Ai,” Zishu grins, scooting close enough to lightly tug at a few strands of that bone white hair, “But that just makes me want to come over even more.”

“I have a knife,” Lao Wen says coolly, “I will use it if I have to.”

“You left our bed in the middle of the night to play with a knife?” Zishu laughs, not intimidated in the least. “Why?”

“If you stop pestering me for a few minutes maybe you’ll find out,” Wen Kexing snaps. Zhou Zishu is not fooled, though. He had caught the sharp inhale of breath when he had said the words ‘our bed’, and he is all but certain that Lao Wen’s threats are empty.

“But you’ll catch cold,” he coaxes, slipping his arms about his waist and pressing a kiss into his shoulder. He obligingly resists the urge to peek at whatever secret Wen Kexing is fiddling with, though. The other man sighs, but does nothing to discourage him, as expected.

“The next time you accuse me of being insufferable, I want you to remember this conversation,” Wen Kexing says wryly.

“It must be your bad influence,” Zhou Zishu chuckles.

Wen Kexing hums noncommittally, going back to whatever he had been working on before. Zhou Zishu sits patiently behind him, leaning into the warm curve of his back, listening to the steady beating of his heart and the faint scraping sound of a blade chipping away at something. The proximity is comfortable, and the quiet almost meditative, and before long Zishu is already half way back to being asleep.

“Alright,” Lao Wen says finally, carefully pulling himself free of Zhou Zishu’s arms and turning to face him, “You can look now.”

Zishu has to shake himself a little to wake up again, but once he does, he finds that Lao Wen is holding out what appears to be an oddly shaped icicle.

“…What is it?” he asks after a few moments of trying to puzzle it out for himself.

Wen Kexing frowns.

“It’s a hair pin,” he tells him, as though it should be obvious.

“Ah.”

“What do you mean, saying ‘ah’ with such a doubting face?” Wen Kexing huffs in annoyance, “Of course it is a hair pin, what else would it be? You lost the one I gave you before, so now I have to give you a new one to replace it.”

“I lost the one you gave me before?” Zhou Zishu laughs.

“That’s right,” Wen Kexing nods seriously, “But I promise not to be mad about it.”

“Philanthropist Wen is too kind.”

“It’s true,” Lao Wen sighs dramatically, “People are always taking advantage of my generous nature.”

He firmly places the hair pin in Zhou Zishu’s hands. Upon closer inspection, it looks to be roughly shaped like a tree branch. There are two lumpy circles that might be meant to be flowers attempting to bloom from it. The finished product is crude, but the ice is clear and crystalline. Pretty, even despite the skill level of the craftsman.

“It is meant to be plum blossoms,” Wen Kexing admits somewhat sheepishly, “One bloom for each of us. There was meant to be a bud for Chengling, too, but I accidentally broke it off. Hopefully, that is not an inauspicious sign for him.”

“I see,” Zhou Zishu says, because he does see, and just like the morning he had woken up to find the Four Seasons Manor cleaned and Wen Kexing diligently repairing his master’s old painting, he feels very much like he wants nothing more than to pull the other man into his arms again.

“Ah Xu, will you accept it?” Wen Kexing asks, slightly trepidatious at his lack of reaction.

“Of course,” Zishu smiles easily, “But it’s made of ice, after all. If I wear it, it will likely melt or break in a day or so.”

“If it breaks, I will just make you a new one,” Wen Kexing says, his eyes soft. He plucks the hair pin from Zhou Zishu’s fingers, reaching up and carefully sliding it into the loose knot at the base of his ponytail. “I can make you a new one every day, if I have to. With any luck, they will eventually look less ugly.”

He takes Zhou Zishu’s hands in his own.

“There are still things I am not good at saying,” he tells him, “Things that I want to share with you. Things that you deserve to hear. Right now, my skills are not enough, but just like with the hair pin, if I keep working at it every day, eventually I can give you something worth having.”

Zhou Zishu tugs him down into his embrace. He thinks about kissing him. About pushing him down and pulling his robe open and showing him, again, how very much he is wanted. But Lao Wen is still recovering from injuries, and it would be a shame to snap his new hair pin tussling around in the sheets. So, he makes do with holding him close, for now. Tangling his fingers in hair the color of starlight.

“Say them, or don’t say them,” he says quietly against the shell of Wen Kexing’s ear, “Whatever they are, they have no bearing on your worth to me.”

“Doesn’t that seem like my current value is lower than mud?” Wen Kexing laughs nervously.

“It means you are treasured,” Zishu corrects him firmly, “There is no price that I would sell you for.”

“I suppose that means I can stop living in fear that you would truly try and sell me to a brothel.”

“You really are a brat.”

“Ah Xu?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”