#this bitch is afraid of the dark and afraid of being alone etc etc but he literally refuses to admit either of those things

[lunarsapphism]

my little brother needs to be severely humbled i swear to god he is the most cocky and egotistical little kid ever and has recently developed this "tough guy" persona and it makes me want to fucking punch him ❤️ i fucking hate it here he did not used to be like this

[drpeppertummy]

it's not just a want but a NEED. a lusty, dusty desire I have for Dark Sunny Lore

You Sicko . The Dark Sunny Lore [warning for illness death suicide self harm child abuse/neglect etc]

his dad never wanted him bc he only wanted 3 kids & sunny was an accidental #4. was always very open about not wanting him bc hes a shitty old bitch

additionally sunny was sick all the time & frequently in the hospital (asthma + other respiratory ailments) & dad was resentful bc he never wanted this sick kid taking up all his time & money

his mom was super loving & wonderful but she died when he was like 12. she died from some kind of respiratory situation & the question of Was It His Fault And Will It Kill Him Too is always in the back of his mind

not long after mom died his dad tried to passively let him die too by refusing to take him to the hospital when he was really sick. his sister giuliana finally took him after coming home from school one day & seeing how awful he looked

was good about being in the hospital as a kid & was always like the nurses little darling bc he was such a sweetie but now has a medical phobia bc in his brain its associated with all that misery & pain & fear

outside of his home life pretty much everyone always liked him & he always had a lot of friends & was popular etc but nothing ever made up for the damage his dad did to him mentally

he knows people like him on a superficial level bc he knows hes cute & charismatic on a superficial level but hes scared that if people get close to him theyll realize hes just annoying & hate him

secretly terrified that his friends hate him & are just tolerating him

prone to bouts of depression, often spirals into a terrible mental state if he stays up late. Night Brain hits hard esp when its mixed with rsd

when he was in college he tried to kill himself by taking a bunch of random medications with a bunch of vodka & it made him sick & knocked him out for a while but miraculously didnt kill him

he woke up in the same spot he left himself in & realized nobody found him or noticed & therefore nobody could care. wanted to tell someone so bad bc he Needed somebody to care & hug him & say they were glad he was alive but he was scared to bc he thought theyd get mad at him or think he was too much or not care since he was "fine" so he just peeled himself off the floor took a shower & went to class like nothing happened. his professor scolded him for coming in hungover

(he eventually told gray about it years later & gray held him & gave him that years-awaited love & care & it was like a soul-healing moment for him)

(gray knows more about him than anybody & he worries about him a lot & sunny feels bad for worrying him but he also appreciates that grays always there for him)

as a kid he would bite himself a lot if he was upset/frustrated/overstimulated & he still does sometimes but only when hes alone. its almost like a reflex & if anyone saw hed be mortified

once in a while tho he like actually cuts himself. if someone asks what happened he gives some absurd excuse like "i got mauled by a bear" & refuses to elaborate bc hes scared & ashamed

hes trying to get better but he almost certainly will attempt suicide again someday. he wont succeed but he Will be so so terrified that his friends are gonna be mad at him for it when he comes to (spoiler: they wont be mad at him)

apart from gray his friends dont know the extent of his mental health problems bc he tries to keep it to himself bc he doesnt wanna worry them & bc hes ashamed & afraid they wont want him anymore. the most they really see of it is him being moody sometimes

once in a while somebody will see him break down over something & they know his dad sucks & they know he misses his mom & they can piece together that hes gotta be hurting but hes usually so bouncy & bubbly & cheery that they dont realize how bad it is

[vacantgodling]

3, 8, and 14 for Hya and Amon? - @void-botanist

thank you!! :’)

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

LMAO after wrangling them enough to admit they are Love Interests and In Love (god it’s so hard with these losers) this is what they said:

Hya: “He’s irritating. He’s annoyingly observant, and he loves to talk—just talk and talk away about anything that catches his fancy. Does he have something interesting to say about it? Most times, yes, but why he feels the need for incessant chatter is beyond me. It’s insufferable. And whenever he feels particularly satisfied about something he’ll get this smug grin on his face—you’ll know it when you see it—that hooks you. I want to wipe it off his goddamn face. … He’s also…” *sighs* “Easy to be around. I don’t have to think about what ulterior motives he has, when I’m around him. I don’t like to compliment people, especially not to their faces, but every time he calls himself ugly or puts himself down I want to bash his skull in. If I am so much as willing to be seen with him, then that’s some merit to his physical attributes. To his… ugh, character? I guess. Whatever. He can be such a bitch sometimes about things; like he has a backbone but he acts like he’s afraid that he’s wrong for asserting it. Why can he fight on everyone else’s behalf but his own? I’ve met many shit stains in my life and he isn’t one of them. He’s more… noble than he allows himself to see. Aside from just putting up with my shit. But, all in all, he’s just fucking annoying okay? Fuck off.”

Amon: “There’s two sides of a person that you’ll notice when you first meet Hyacinthus Shrapnel. The first is the faux lord; he’s beautiful—blessed by the gods, some would say, with his dark eyes and hair, long lashes and full lips; stunning physique accentuated with robes fit for a king. No, no one would blame you for taking a liking to him just on appearance alone. Then there are his internal attributes, which are… less so. I’d call this side of him the “animal.” He’s crass, he’s arrogant, vain beyond measure, and the most genuinely obtuse person you could ever attempt to converse with. He’s bullheaded—there’s no other way to put it. Yet… There’s a third side of Hyacinthus Shrapnel that most never get a chance to see. Not the lord he tries to be, or the caged animal he’s been trained to be… But the man. Hya, the man, feels too many things, so he tries to feel nothing at all. Hya, the man, is so desperate for affection that he denies himself of it—lest he break under the pressure of it. Hya, the man, is so infinitely fascinating and complex that I could spend my entire life trying to understand him, and explore every nook and cranny of his brain until I know it like the back of my own hand. And, I intend to.”

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Amon would get infinitely frustrated by them lol. He likes to be learned and to problem solve but he tends to lack patience in the grand scheme of things. He has patience for very particular things in his life so patience in other areas is lax. Hya enjoys them to an extent if he thinks the payoff is worth it. And the payoff can range from something he’s genuinely curious about, monetary gain, etc. He won’t do it for fun lol there has to be a why.

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

Hya considers a lot of things a waste of time, though I interject with the caveat that he didn’t think he’d have access to a lot of these things or he was taught not to value them from a young age. Things like interpersonal relationships of any kind, religion, being kind or giving for the sake of it. He also thinks, more benignly, that pointless conversation is a waste of time. I will say many of these things he does kind of grow out of or gain a passing appreciation of.

Amon doesn’t think there’s anything that’s a true waste of time. If it exists then to some extent it must be worth doing in his mind.

[whalelover64]

💚 and 💐 for Aster (💐 is just because he's a florist and I'm curious as to what flowers he'd pick for his own bouquet lol), 🍧 and 📸 for Amber, 🙈 and 🎭 for Liza, 🌙 (lol) and 👪 for Faela, and 🌌 and 📎 for Atlas! I hope this isn't overwhelming, I just didn't want to leave any of the main crew out!

Yay! Thank you Sharky! No worries about this being too much, I always welcome all kinds of information for my OCs.

This will be a long one, so hold on tight!

Aster:

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

Aster feels the most comfortable when he eats his purple peaches and cream treats. Growing up, his mom would make him a peaches and cream parfait whenever he has a bad day, which happened too often haha. But a treat made from mom always lifts Aster's spirits.

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

A combination of purple and white flowers such as:

Asters, obviously. Asters are named after the Greek word αστήρ, or known translation astḗri. Their name means star and the aster flower has been known to be the stars of a meadow. They give off all kinds of beautiful purple colors, but can also come in different colors such as pink, yellow, and white! Asters are perfect flowers for the fall, and Aster's birthday is in the peak of the fall season. He was also named after his mother's favorite flower.

Lavender is Aster's favorite flower scent. They're not just a calming scent to have in his mask, but they can be used in all different ways such as tea, potion making, dyes, etc. It's a universally loved plant and his best seller!

Daffodils. They're known for "New Beginnings." Before Aster met Amber, his life was spiraling down a dangerous dark hole. Alone and afraid to reach out, he thought his life would amount to nothing. Now that he's friends with Amber, he can now see his life in a different way that he so desperately needs. A brand new beginning where he can mend broken ties and create new ones to have a more fulfilling life.

I can go on and on, but the character count for this post will fill up before I get to the next one!

Amber:

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Amber has a pink stuffed penguin named Slushi that she had received from an anonymous donor when growing up in the orphanage. It was her only gift from any birthdays, winter celebrations, etc. and plans to make it a family heirloom. If it gets lost or shredded to oblivion, being beyond devastated would be an understatement.

📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what’s their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

OOO, Amber is very photogenic! Any photo op she would do all kinds of fun poses that is appropriate at the moment such as raising up a drink in a restaurant, pretends to "fall off" near a cliffside, or being goofy in a party. She also likes doing selfies with friends, with or without their permission.

Liza:

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don’t want to show other people?

Liza, despite being an asshole dragon and owning The Bitch title, she genuinely doesn't want others close to her getting hurt. Even if she does throw the punches, it's not the to point where they have to be hospitalized. Liza chose to leave her old life behind from the far away lands and wanted to be a strong stoic protector of human kind. But she ain't a pushover and won't tolerate bullshit on the human side either.

🎭 MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what’s different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

Much like above, Liza likes to act as the mean older sister of the GangTM. Bossy, teasing her friends, tends to get away with shit, the usual. However, if anyone outside of the group gets hurt in anyway, she will go from mean sibling to protective sibling and will do anything to make sure it never happens again. Especially with other dragon kind, she does not hold back on beings that can take a few punches from Liza.

Faela:

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

I'm doing this one first. Faela, unfortunately, has a broken family dynamic. Her mother is her fairy side of the genetics, but she has been abusive to Faela and her older sister since they are half werewolves. Her mom has somewhat tolerated her dad (who is a werewolf) up until when Faela was a little girl, the mom then divorced the dad and forbade him to see his children. She then neglected Faela and her sister and would lock them up in their rooms whenever there was a full moon. Faela and her sister were forced to become street kids for a good while, until an investigator acknowledge their situation. The investigator helped them get out of their mother's custody and back with their dad who is 100x better with raising the kids.

Up until present, Faela has a good relationship with her older sister and dad. They have cut the mother out of their lives and has been living a fairly normal life.

🌙 MOON - what is your oc’s greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

Faela's greatest wish is to become what the investigator has done to Faela and her family. She wants to be the greatest criminal investigator to help people's lives and be the reason for their great turnarounds. Faela will take any challenge in order to sharpen her skills as an investigator.

Atlas:

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

The Phoenix is one of my favorite mythological creatures. In fact, I've had a Phoenix OC all the way back in middle school named Aureus Ignis, which meant Golden Flame in Latin. Atlas is pretty much the recycled version of this OC, a Phoenix with golden feathers with hints of yellow, orange, and red.

I really love the idea of a Phoenix being worshipped as a god. If you're a good person, the Phoenix can send you to Elysium where you can either retire from life on earth and/or be reborn to another life of your choosing. If you're a bad person, your soul would either be reborn without your choosing, sent to the nether world, or devoured by the Phoenix.

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

Cherry nuts are Atlas' go-to treat! They're hard-shelled nuts with a brilliant red color. One hard crack and they open to reveal a more darker red nut inside. The flavor is more on the sweeter side and has a slight resemblance of actual cherries. Cherry nuts are commonly used for salads or yogurt cups, and are often seen as decorations for winter celebrations.

Thank you for reading and making these suggestions! I've had so much fun brainstorming and researching to talk about my OCs. I can't wait to do more in the future! :)

[mykilljoyhq]

Infodump about my Killjoy Ocs written like my OCs pt.1

Gaz Guzzler-🤪

Aight, let’s get started, assholes

1. What is your full birth name and any nicknames you go by

What are you a cop? You don’t need to know all that. I’m Gaz Guzzler, friends call me Gaz(mainly DJ)

2. Who do you currently live with at the moment

The Batcave with Spellcaster and DJ. Oh and that kid we picked up in like..zone 2. Didn’t get their name, but I call them Red.

3. What is your gender identity and sexual orientation

Man I don’t know….nothing? I’m just Gaz the Killjoy. Never saw myself like a chick or a dude or something in between. As for sexual identity…I read in a book it might be something like…ommisexual…I don’t know. I like everyone but WOMEN MAN, THEY REALLY GET ME!

4. Describe yourself(features, clothes,etc)

Im like a tanish…color I think. Anyways, I have short pink hair and wild magenta eyebrows(that’s right motherfuckers I dyed my eyebrows👌) I have light blue eyes(almost looks white for some reason). There are freckles all over my nose and cheeks. I wear a pink jacket over a light magenta shirt with a blackstar on it(our gang sign). I got dyed dark magenta pants and two patches on the knees that represent DJ and Spellcaster…gotta make one for Red if he stays with us. I also got a duck earing.

5. What are some words or phrases that you use often?

Swears…so many fucking swears bitch.

6. What is your best memory?

One time me and DJ went to a zone rave and we had a bunch of fun. I remember we danced to the music like there was no one else there. Also one time, DJ showed me her favorite songs and we got high and listened to them. Yea most of my happy memories revolve around DJ.

7. What is your worst memory

Well, even though it’s where I got my name, that one time that Fun..uhh another Killjoy dared me to drink gas after I said I’d rather chug gas than be left alone with him. That was pretty sucky. Tasted like shit. Also the ummm…the botched job. Yea that was………..NEXT QUESTION!

8. Out of the people in your gang list them out of how much you like them.

Aight well, DJ’s definitely number one. She’s as sweet as soda. She keeps all of us from dying. But don’t mistake her sweetness for weakness.(looks around to see if DJ is there) Word is around the zones, one time someone tried to assault and rob DJ. They fought behind a shed.yea DJ gave one hell of a beating…legend has it…her words after she finished was “if you die, give my regards to Jimi Hendrix.” Yea…sometimes she scares me. Red…man I don’t know them that much but they seem pretty cool. Spellcaster is last. Bro is a total hothead and a complete Narcissist. But he’s our leader and sometimes he’s okay. Just don’t bring up….uhh “the four”

What four?

You know exactly which ones I’m talking about……THE four…especially the blond one. Yea unless you’re looking for a fight, don’t bring him up around Spellcaster.

…..Ok then next question

9. Any particular hobbies you enjoy

I do graffiti a lot. And I also sew shit together sometimes to make new shit. I’m also pretty good with cars.

Last question: is this a facade just to hide away from the fact that you are afraid of the future? Do you really blame the fab four for the death of REDACTED and the botched job or are you just projecting your own blame onto them to avoid facing your feelings? Do you act rude and inappropriate towards others because in reality you’re worried about being just as bad as “them”. What happened to your old gang before the Blackstars…who really are you REDACTED?

What is your favorite color?

I’m dressed head to toe in pink and magenta…I have pink hair…and i painted my blastah pink….it’s yellow.

Thank you for your time

See ya bitch-🤪

[ja-stuff]

His s/o passes out/ fainting

note: Heyya, this is Ja and this is my first ever post on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy this! Not proofread! and gn!reader ^^

word count: 2, 694

Character: Hanma Shuji

Tw: implied passing out, skipping meals, cursing, saying insults like bitch etc.,kisaki tetta???, (mentions of cheating but none of that really happened sooo…) abusive type of language

Genre: fluff/comfort (ooc, especially for comfort)

Hanma Shuji

You had a rough day. With your car stopping halfway from your workplace, your car company telling you that it would take them two days to get the car fixed, to getting scolded by your team leader for being late for work, then having you make 14 coffees and bringing it alone to the afternoon meeting held by your department, ate only one meal due to missed breaks, getting off work late, and lastly, dealing with a traffic jam, while you’re standing on a cramped bus. Nothing beats this day as one of the worst of your year so far. You arrived home, sighing before entering your shared house with your fiance, Hanma Shuji.

Hanma got home earlier than usual after doing some errands for Kisaki. He's always used to your greetings when he arrives from work, having to share a nice dinner made by you, and cuddling after a long tiring day of work until you both fall asleep were your routines since you both started living together. Yet, today was unusual for Hanma, when he arrived home, the house was dark, empty, and silent, no traces of you nor did he smell any cooked food around the house, only the sound of his keys, shoes, breathing, and steps enveloped him. This made Hanma’s stomach churn. He was anxious, a feeling he hasn’t felt for a long time after you became his lover. Since dating you, Hanma had felt anxiety only once, and that was when you’re at the starting point of your relationship with him in high school, you got harassed by a member of another enemy gang, he was so mad that he went on a rampage alone, promising himself that he would always protect you and have you monitored by him 24/7 every year, and never taking his eyes off of you. Aside from his possessive and crazy-aggressive demeanor, when it comes to you he surely does become soft. You, and only you, were able to let a little of his guard down. Nearing the tenth year of the relationship, surprised enough that it was a healthy one, he decided to put a ring on it. And that’s when the anxiety came back and never really left him every single day. He’s so afraid of the news, Hanma Shuji being ‘engaged’, to be an advantage for his enemies to get to his weakness and destroy him, fearing that not only you would get deeply affected by it but his gang as well. He’s happy that he’s engaged, but scared to lose you with just a blink of an eye, like how you are right now. Nowhere to be found, and cannot be reached.

After checking your whereabouts inside the house and near your street, he went back home and waited for almost two hours for you. He made plenty of calls in between, but none of them were answered. Believing that you’re probably in danger as threats are always around the corner, He dialed one of his gang member’s numbers to have you tracked down, but as soon as he heard the front door of the house unlocked, he immediately withdrew the call, and made his way down to the front door.

“I’m home.” you voiced out, sitting on some stool near the shoe rack as you remove your footwear. You heard rapid footsteps coming down from the second floor, within a few seconds there goes your man standing behind you, hands on his hips with an icy gaze.

“So now you fucking decided to go home? Where were you this whole damned fucking time, huh?!” he spits. Voice stern as he tries to hold back the anger built-up within him as he grips your shoulders within his tattooed hands and lowered himself down to meet eye-level with you. “What time do you think it is, for you to drag yourself out this late at night?” you patted your pants and coat, then scanned your handbag for your phone to check the time, but you remembered that you left it at your office desk. “Oh, I don’t know what time it is now love. It seems I left my phone at the office,” you say, giving him a quick peck on his lips and offering him a little smile before standing up.

“Do you have any idea, that it’s already 9 in the evening? 9 o’clock in the eve. ning. Where were you?! What have you been doing this late?! Who’s with you?!” Hanma’s losing a little patience with how you’re not immediately saying any reasons, as you lack the energy to explain things first, he started raising his voice.

“I am not in the mood for arguing and shouting Shuji, I’m so freaking tired.” You said, as exhaustion clearly evident on your face, you walked away from your fiance, and made a beeline to the living room dropping your things, and was about to sit down when Hanma grabbed you by the hand making you stand again.

“So you’re learning how to dismiss me now, y/n? After I entered this fucking house, with no traces of you, making me wait for almost two fucking hours, not even answering any of my calls? Do you still think that you’d get to act like a bitch in front of me now?! I’m so fucking disappointed–”

“Yeah, sure! Go ahead! Be upset, and get disappointed! I don’t really care now, Shu. I’ve been having a rough day, and let’s stop at that! I don’t wanna add some more headaches now, just please, shut it for now.'' You cut him off, voice slightly rising from normal, closing your eyes as you try to feel your headache getting worse with how Hanma’s been shaking you, irritated by your fiance’s questioning, the last thing you wanna deal with now is nothing, just nothing. You wanted to cool your head for a moment, yet he hasn't taken any clue of it.

“Shut?! You’re telling me to shut up?! Do you think you’re the only one who’s having a bad day?! I got to work sooooo early, trained some useless-brainless fucking new recruits, took some dirty errands for Tetta, and finding out that my fucking fiance isn't home as usual, as they ignore my fucking calls and getting home late by spending a lot of fucking time out of the fucking house doing God knows whatever the fuck that they were doin–” Offended by his words, you quickly looked at him with confused almost seems to be questioning eyes, you cut him off, not really believing that he’s saying those kinds of words to you.

“Hah! With what God knows whatever was I doing, are you saying that I am cheating on you?” you gasped in disbelief, “ told you that it was a rough day for me too! I experienced something– I don’t know?! Something similar to unlucky things that only happen in movies! Starting from my car--” you wanted to explain more but stopped when you felt your head pound once more, making you feel a little out of breath after shouting those words towards your close-headed fiance. You put a hand on your head, simply making circular motions to massage your right temple.

If there’s something that you always wanted to avoid doing with Hanma, it was arguing. Arguments with Hanme are rare, yet none of them result in you guys shouting at each other. Even though you accepted Hanma wholeheartedly and knew the terms and conditions of dating him, you still avoided getting into his bad side. So you usually sort things out for him first before discussing things with him, since you know that nothing comes to his head when he’s so agitated, his rationality becomes clouded and thoughts are not sorted. No matter how hard you try to explain or make him see your point, he just doesn’t because of the heat of the moment. It always has to be about his feelings first, not yours. He acts based on his instincts when he's mad, and you know it well.

“I don’t know? Maybe you are?! How do you think I felt…” He continues. You suddenly felt dizzy, making you put a hand back on your head again as you pressed on your temples. You’re starting to feel waves of aches, clearly hearing the pounding that your brain’s creating. Hanma’s voice gets a little muffled, trying your best to focus on his words, yet the shouting only makes your head throb more, which gives a solution to end the argument for now.

Reflecting on the events that escalated quickly, you admitted to yourself that somehow you’re at fault for raising your voice as if you added a glass of fuel to a fire, you sighed. You never once raised a voice with Hanma in any discussions or arguments you both had before. Swallowing your pride for now even if you’re not at fault, cause you still know that you badly needed rest, after all, you needed to prioritize your health, and this matter can be discussed tomorrow when you’re both awake and cooled your heads since it is a Saturday. You sighed once more and relaxed your tensed shoulders little by little, ready to soothe your fiance.

“No, Shu. Let’s stop, let’s talk when we’re cooled off okay?” You spoke calmly, not having any idea that you had cut him off once more.

“You’ve been cutting me off for how many times now, are you really dodging this matter now?! So, no! We’re talking about this now, and only now!”

“Shu, please?” you pleaded, at this point, you’re certain that every time you speak, your headaches get worse and worse. Feeling a slight weakening on your knees, you stepped back a little from Hanma.

“Please what?! Shouting back at me earlier as if you’re not taking my concerns to heart?! As my fiance, I have the right to know and have you checked whether you’re still around, alive or still in one piece! The fuck!? Now you’re backing away? What?! You’re only getting scared of me now?! Suits you well, that’s how it’s supposed to be! Be scared, that's how brats should do.” Your fiance’s glaring at you, as you continue stepping away from him, searching for any surface to hold for support.

“Shu, no. I’m not scared. Just–just, please. A little space, w–we can talk about this tomo–” He inched forward and you’re certain that everything started to spin around you as Hanma continued with his words, that you couldn’t hear properly now.

“Shu, stop. Please I–” you breathed heavily, trying to grasp any air available around you, your eyes blinking as black spots started to appear, wherever you looked.

“No, you. Stop and listen! Y/n w–” Hanma did not finish what he was saying as you stared at him trying to say something but ended closing your eyes, looking wobbly and making your body fall to the ground.

“Y/n! Baby?! Hey, love? Hey?!” Hanma was fast enough to catch you even before you made contact with the cold floor. He lightly tapped your cheek, and when you did not flinch he froze in place, his mind not working. It took him a couple of seconds before panic sunk in.

“Hey? Y/n? Open your eyes– no baby. I’m sorry I– I was so fucking immat– no this is not the right time! Bedroom… Yes, bedroom! That’s absolutely right!” Without missing a beat he carried you and gently placed you on your bed. He went downstairs to prepare water in advance in case you woke up sooner.

—

You opened your eyes and were met by your bedroom ceiling. You moved up a little to sit comfortably, but the action created another ache in your head, causing you to groan. You reached for the table lamp on your side and were surprised when you saw your fiance, resting his head on the little space on your side of the bed. You soften at his defenseless body.

“Shu?” you called, yet he was sleeping so soundly. Looking at your man like that sends pain on your back, watching him crouch like that on the bed must have been uncomfortable. So you tried waking him again, this time with light taps on his face.

“Shu? Wake up. Sleep on the bed babe, or you’re gonna hurt your back–” He lifted his head and rubbed his eye, when he made eye contact with your concerned orbs, you saw the hurt in his eyes, as he swiftly moved to hug you tight.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry y/n… Please don’t leave me. I’ll do better! I promise! Just don’t leave me~, please? I promise… I’m sorry. Don’t throw me away. I don’t know what to do if you walked out on me like–” you pecked his lips to stop him from saying things that you absolutely won’t do, and it worked. He’s now staring at you with his eyes turning glassy as tears pool in his eyes. He looked like an abandoned dog in the rain, searching for someone for warmth. This made you realize that this man in front of you, despite being imperfect, is someone that you love dearly, and there’s no way you’ll leave him.

“Shu, no one’s leaving baby~ I am not leaving you. I am yours. You know that right? I’m not gonna leave you just because of what happened earlier. I love you so much that I am willing to be there for you even in your next life, love.” this time you planted a sweet long kiss on his lips as you closed your eyes, assuring him that he already has you and you’re not running away no matter what.

Hanma was caught off guard with your words and his eyes widened, never had he ever imagined that there would be somebody willing to stay with him despite knowing his reputation, behavior, and basically just his existence. For the years he had never felt important, significant, loved, and warm by someone he deemed special, he was sure that he found all of those in your presence. A person called his home.

The kiss lasted for a solid nine seconds. You moved away and caught Hanma’s widened eyes staring at you with an apologetic yet thankful gaze as his tears fell in synch.

“I love you Hanma Shuji,” you said once more cupping his face.

“I know I am not fucking perfect, but let me love you perfectly for the rest of our time, Y/n. To be the best husband. I love you so damned much, a–and that I’m so fucking sorry for saying such words earlier. I was such an idiot. All of it wasn't true, I hope you know that. I never once fucking thought of you cheating, I know you’re not the one to do such bad things. I promise I’ll work on my temper and my choice of words. I– I promise to be better–no, the best this time, this won’t happen again, okay? I love you.” You smile at Hanma who talks about promises and puts assurance in each of his every words. You know he never broke any promise with you, not even once.

It made your heart full, that this man was wrapped around your finger, and was willing to be the best for you.

“I know, babe. I love you more~” You said, patting his side on the bed, asking him to move there.

“No! I fucking love you most!”

“No, I do! I love you a thousand times!”

“Now, now. You don’t wanna lose huh? How about, I love you for how many galaxies there are in the universe!” He exclaimed, smiling with victory. You rolled your eyes, letting him win this I love you-session.

“So have you eaten?” You asked.

“Oh shit! The pizza that I ordered! Fuck!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Hoped you liked it! Oh! Here is my masterlist ^^ stay hydrated and keep safe loves!

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[avnkin]

Shake On It [ d. malfoy ]

Author’s Note: I originally planned on posting this as just one long fic buuut instead i’m going to do a mini series, ya know torture you guys just just a lil bit (gif is not mine) also I got all the information about the potions and the ingredients from harry potter wiki and of course I do not own harry potter or the storyline/characters.

Word Count: 8k

Summary: There’s little to nothing Draco values more than his reputation so when he sees it slipping, he’ll do anything in his power to catch it.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, foul language, some bullying and asshole!draco.

This is an AU so all the information doesn’t exactly line up with the hp storyline for example it takes place in sixth year but there’s no Voldemort so Dumbledore doesn’t die etc.

You’d never been much for the ‘social scene’ you just didn’t find enjoyment in the same things your classmates did, so you never really had a big friend group, your only acquaintance having been Irma Prince… The librarian.

That was until your second year when Hermione Granger came into your life like a ray of sunshine brightening up the dark loneliness that had consumed you your first year.

She introduced you to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, although you were never as close with them as you were with Hermione you still couldn’t be more grateful for your newfound friend group, especially since you now didn’t have to endure Draco’s and his fellow Slytherin classmates torment alone.

You were and had always been an easy target for Draco and his entourage since you never really stood up for yourself, instead choosing to ignore how he continuously called you ‘a blood traitor’ for hanging out with ‘the likes of Hermione’ which you never understood, how was someone different from him just because they didn’t have magical parents?

It was a well-known fact that Draco’s father Lucius Malfoy was the cause of his attitude towards muggle-borns, you truly believed that man didn’t have a kind bone in his body.

You remembered once when you’d arrived at platform 9¾ after your third year Draco went to greet his parents and whilst Narcissa (his mother) gave him a big welcoming hug, embracing her son after not having seen him for many months Lucius simply stared down at him with a glare that could only be described as disgust and disappointment before turning and walking away without as much as a greeting to the platinum blond.

Still, that didn’t excuse Draco’s foul behaviour, he was old enough now to have his own opinions and morals and he didn’t seem to be planning on changing them anytime soon.

You were now in your sixth year and unsurprisingly nothing had changed, Draco was still the same arse he’d always been, but as the years went on it was getting progressively easier to ignore him since you’d gotten so used to it.

It almost felt like it had become a part of your daily routine for him to yell something degrading in the hallways, mostly directed at you or Hermione or whatever Gryffindor he felt like bullying that day.

Intently focusing on the potions book that laid opened before you, you carefully followed the detailed instructions, not wanting to get a single thing wrong since you needed at least an outstanding in this class to keep up your average.

The last part was to add: ‘One drop of Unicorn blood’

You grabbed the flask that contained the silver liquid and as steadily as possible you leaned the bottle over your cauldron, letting a small drop slip past the edge and into the black water, but as you began leaning back Pansy Parkinson ‘accidentally’ bumped into you causing the entirety of the bottle to spill into your potion.

You glared up at her as you watched the black liquid turn sickly green instead of sparkly blue as it should. She shrugged her shoulders innocently, before walking back to the station she shared with Draco who greeted her with an amused smirk before turning back to his work.

“Try not to think too much about it” Hermione’s comforting voice sounded from beside you. “I’m so sick of those two” you argued pouring the remaining containments of the cauldron into a sink, now having to start the entire potion all over again.

“I know, I am too” Hermione frowned glaring at the two Slytherins who didn’t even bother to look over at her.

“Miss Y/L/N weren’t you nearly finished a couple of minutes ago?” Professor Slughorn’s voice could be heard from behind you as he looked over your shoulder, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Uh- yes sir it’s just I accidentally put too much Unicorns blood and had to start over again” you lied looking into the now-empty cauldron before you, glaring at Pansy once you heard her quiet laughter from the other side of the classroom.

“Well alright, but I’d hurry if I were you, I’m afraid you’re running a bit short on time” he smiled before moving on to the students sat in front of you.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hermione frowned once Slughorn was out of earshot, you gave her a knowing look having had this conversation with her on more than one occasion.

Tattling on them wouldn’t change anything it would simply make their torments increase and you didn’t need that, especially with the N.E.W.T.S coming up you didn’t want anything distracting your studies.

Despite having been interrupted by Pansy you managed to be the only one who brewed the potion right and the displeased scowl placed on Pansy’s face as she watched you get praised by the teacher and the rest of the class was nothing but amusing.

Once you were finally dismissed, you were walking alongside Hermione down the long corridors leading to the Great Hall when someone again bumped into you causing all the books you’d been clutching between your arms to go flying towards the ground and you along with them.

“What a klutz” you heard the familiar squeaky voice of Pansy Parkinson, you hurriedly got back up onto your feet whilst Hermione picked up the remaining books that had sprawled all across the stone floor.

“You did that on purpose” you growled charging at Pansy who cowered away from you as you neared her but once she noticed Draco was watching she stopped dead in her tracks, a side smirk resting on her lips before she tilted her head to the side.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” she innocently smiled before walking around you and back to Draco who held an emotionless expression on his face as he walked with her down the hall.

“Bitch” you mumbled underneath your breath just before Hermione came running up to you. “Are you okay?” she faintly smiled before handing you your things.

“Fine” you deadpanned before the two of you began walking back down the hallway again.

Once you’d made it into the Great Hall you immediately spotted Harry and Ron a smile on your face as you took a seat next to Harry, and Hermione the one next to Ron the previous events being long forgotten as you distracted yourself with the comforting company of your friends.  

“Since when did Y/L/N and Potter become so close?” Draco’s face held a scowl as he watched the two of you interact from afar, he truly didn’t know why it bothered him, but for some reason it did.

“Why do you care?” Pansy replied as she began shifting in her seat to move closer to Draco who almost instinctively moved away causing a bright red tint to appear on her cheeks as she hurriedly moved back to her original seat.

“I don’t” he simply replied tearing his eyes away from you and Harry as he began playing with his food.

“You know what I think” Blaise raised an eyebrow as he daringly stared Draco down, “I think Malfoy’s gone soft” Blaise finished, the words earning loud snickers from the students sat next to them.

Draco’s stomach churned in anger at the words of his best friend throwing the boy a nasty glare before turning back to his food, but Blaise didn’t intend to stop there.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you never pick on her anymore and you always get really defensive whenever- “

“Shut the hell up Blaise” Draco commanded and even though Blaise knew he was skating on thin ice, Draco’s fury only seemed to egg him on further as his eyes wandered towards the Gryffindor table to look at you.

"You know what Malfoy since you claim you have no feelings for her at all I dare you to break her heart"

"What?" Draco questioned genuinely confused at his friends' statement. "Make her fall in love with you and then dump her" Draco looked over at Pansy who seemed almost giddy at the suggestion, of course she'd be happy about this.

Draco thought about it for a moment, he knew that if he didn't do this he'd never hear the end of it, and keeping up his 'I don't care about anyone but myself' attitude had served him well over the years so as he weighed out the pros and the cons it seemed the cons were outnumbered and without a second thought he reached his hand out to Blaise.

"You've got yourself a deal" Draco spoke as they shook hands "and when I win, you'll be my personal servant for the rest of the year" Draco finished as he pulled his hand back causing Blaise's cocky facial expression to quickly drop.

"Fine but when I win, you have to do my homework for Defence Against the Dark Arts till we graduate" Draco rolled his eyes but nodded as he let his hand fall back into his lap.

He stared at you watching as you laughed at something Harry said and couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing what he was about to do, but he shook the feeling away engaging back in the conversation of his friends, pushing all thoughts of you into the back of his mind.

The following week Draco still had yet to make his move on you. He was brainstorming ideas as he made his way to Potions, none of them good enough to follow through with but when he’d finally made his way into the classroom, he went to walk over to Blaise like he usually would but instead he found himself staring at the empty seat next to you.

He looked over at Blaise who was already quizzically staring at him. Draco mouthed a ‘watch this’ in return before he made his way towards you, grabbing a hold of the chair next to yours he stared down at you before asking.

"Is this seat taken?"

You looked up from your book turning to greet who you thought would have been Harry or Ron but instead, you were met with a pair of grey eyes you were not expecting to see, your mouth slightly parting as you stared wide-eyed at him.

"Yes actually-" you began but he had already sat down before you'd been able to reply, placing his backpack on the floor below him.

You raised an eyebrow at the blond, to which he replied by smiling over at you acting as if him sitting there was the most normal thing in the world.

"Do you mind?" you finally managed to choke out as he turned to face you.

"No, not at all" your eyes went wide at his words as you frantically began looking around the classroom for Hermione.

Once you made eye contact with her, you gave her a pleading look silently begging for her to help you, but she only took a hesitant seat next to Neville shrugging her shoulders indicating that there wasn't much she could do.

You grabbed the handle of your backpack beginning to stand up when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist preventing you from moving any further.

"Seems like all the other seats are taken Y/L/N" you frowned at his words turning your head to look around the classroom and sure enough there wasn't a single seat available.

You glared at him before ripping your hand out of his grasp and reluctantly sitting back down.

"Good morning" Slughorn's voice could be heard as he made his way towards the front of the classroom.

"Today we'll be working in pairs so whoever you're sitting next to is your partner for this assignment" your eyes widened in horror at his words as you glanced over at the Slytherin clad boy next to you.

"You're going to be writing an essay on the properties of Moonstone and its uses in Potion making" why did he have to announce this assignment today of all days?

You again looked over at Draco who seemed to be smiling, why was he happy about this? You placed your head in your hands as your mind began to wander, this was probably some stupid plan he and his friends had made to get you to fail the class.

"Professor" you eagerly raised your hand "is it too late to change partners?" you asked, silently begging for him to say no so you could work with Hermione or anyone else for that matter.

"Well I'm afraid everyone else seems to be taken Miss Y/L/N, I'm sure you and Mister Malfoy will be just fine together" you felt a flash off anger as you turned to look at the boy sat next to you.

"I swear if this is your idea of some sort of sick joke Malfoy, I'll hex you into oblivion" you threatened not daring to break eye contact with him, smirking once you noticed his taken aback expression.

"Y/L/N calm down, It's not a joke? You're the best at Potions in our year so I wanted to see if you'd be willing to work together but doesn't look like you have much of a choice now" he shrugged his shoulders; something was definitely off about this.

"So, you couldn't just ask me before we got to class?" his eyes seemed to widen a bit as he thought of a response but you continued before he had the chance to say anything "because I would have said no" and with that, you turned away from him pulling a piece of parchment out of your backpack along with your quill so you could start planning the next few weeks.

As it was nearing the end of the class you and Draco hadn't spoken a word to each other since you'd shut down all his attempts of starting a conversation, not having been interested in anything he had to say.

When class was over you handed Draco the piece of parchment that had a very detailed description of what his part in the project would be, so you'd be able to spend as little time together as possible, although he seemed to be quite displeased at this beginning to protest that you should work together so you'd get a better grade.

"I'm not spending any more time with you than I have to Malfoy so if you'll excuse me" you stood up pushing him out of the way before making your way to Neville's station where Hermione stood shoving her books into her bag.

Once you finally reached her you grabbed her by the arm, quickly pulling her after you out of the classroom. Ignoring her protests until you finally reached an empty corridor, void of any students and teachers.

"Please tell me you saw all that" you pleaded as you let go of her arm.

“You mean Malfoy?” Hermione replied, “yes Malfoy! He’s acting like we’re all of a sudden, the best of friends? Like he didn’t just call me a ‘blood traitor’ last week” you exasperated a scowl on your face.

“I think that was Zabini” Hermione acknowledged making you furrow your brows your mind wandering back to the encounter and sure enough she was right, Zabini had been the one to hurl the insult.

“What does it matter who said it, he’s one of them!” you protested, angrily turning to look at Hermione once you heard her stifled laughter from beside you.

“This isn’t funny! I’m stuck with him for the next- who knows how many weeks on this stupid project” you complained letting your head fall back as you let out a groan.

“Its okay Y/N don’t worry… I reckon he just fancies you” Hermione teased wiggling her eyebrows as she lightly nudged you in the shoulder.

“Have you gone mad?” you practically gasped although you couldn’t help the unfamiliar heat that began rushing to your cheeks at her words.

“Merlin Y/N you’re blushing! You like him?” you frantically covered her mouth as you noticed students beginning to fill the previously empty hallways.

“Would you hush! And no! I do not like Draco Malfoy, I could never like someone like him” you hissed your anger only growing once you noticed the same smile still linger on her lips.

“Whatever you say” Hermione jokingly sing sang, and in response you lightly hit her across the head with a piece of parchment you’d been holding unfortunately not getting the results you wanted since it only seemed to be egging her laughter on more.

“Alright calm down you lunatic I’m only joking” Hermione frowned rubbing the spot on her head you’d begun repeatedly hitting her, “you better be” you hummed, again pulling her after you as you two began walking down the hallways blending into the crowd of students.

“You know I can walk by myself” Hermione frowned once you’d found yourself standing out in the courtyard, your eyes searching for your two other friends since when you had Potions they had a free period which they spent most of their time here.

You finally spotted them sitting on a bench below a large brown oak tree, Seamus and Dean stood in front of them.

It was now Hermione’s turn to pull you away and in mere seconds you were standing next to the four Gryffindor clad boys who all turned their heads towards the two of you.

“Hello” you smiled before looking over at Harry who had already begun scooting over gesturing for you to come and sit down next to him, to which you happily obliged.

They all greeted you and Hermione before continuing their conversation about the upcoming Quidditch game they had against Slytherin next week.

“Yeah well Malfoy hasn’t caught the snitch when competing against Harry once, so I think we’re going to be okay” Ron assured Seamus who didn’t seem to be all that convinced but still began to make his way back into school Dean following behind him shortly after.

“Speaking of Malfoy” Hermione knowingly smirked at you before turning towards the two boys.

“Hermione no-“ you began but it was already too late, “seems he as a little crush” and there it was, you inwardly face palmed feeling the now-familiar heat in your face as you turned away from the confused glances of your two friends.

“Malfoy fancies Y/N?” Ron seemed to be more disgusted rather than confused as he scrunched up his nose.

“Hermione first of all I’m going to kill you! And second of all, he doesn’t like me! He just wanted to be partners on some stupid assignment in Potions” you assured them.

“And you said yes?” Harry perplexed.

“No! Of course not, he- he didn’t give me much of a choice” you rambled scratching the back of your head before glaring over at Hermione.

“What? He forced you to work with him?” Harry again furrowed his brows, “No- or well he sat next to me in class and I couldn’t move anywhere else since all of the other seats were taken and when Professor Slughorn arrived he immediately announced that we’d be working on our essays with whoever sat next to us” you began rambling, causing your three friends to share amused glances, unbeknownst to you.

Harry seemed to understand slowly nodding before claiming him and Ron had quidditch practice pulling the ginger boy along with him out of the courtyard, leaving just you and Hermione.

After a few minutes of silence, you turned to face her, “I think I’m going to go to the library, care to join me?” Hermione shook her head at your words pointing at the book she had just opened already beginning to make herself comfortable on the little bench you’d been sitting on.

You rolled your eyes “suit yourself” you breathed out offering her a small wave as you stood up, which she returned before you began walking back into the crowded hallways.

As you neared the library you began to hear footsteps behind you, smirking since you thought Hermione had changed her mind about joining you.

You turned around expecting to see your best friend but instead, you were met with Draco who now stood still a few feet away from you.

“Are you following me?” you crossed your arms raising an eyebrow at the boy.

He shook his head now walking towards you “just wanted to see if you’d like some company and since you’re heading towards the library we can work on our essay”

“So, you were following me” you accused but before he could answer you continued, “I thought I already told you I’m not spending any more time with you than I have too so if you’ll excuse me” you turned your back to him continuing your way to the library.

“Your loss Y/L/N” you heard him teasingly call after you making a smile appear on your lips which you tried to the best of your ability to contain.

-

Your next Potions class was one you’d been dreading, knowing that the people who were paired together on the essay had also been assigned to sit next to each other, very much to your dismay.

Professor Slughorn had asked all of you to join him at the front of the classroom so he could show you a couple of the potions you’d be brewing for the next couple of weeks and of course the one you’d be working on today.

“And this one right here is-” Slughorn was abruptly cut off by the sound of the classroom door swinging open. You quizzically looked past Slughorn’s shoulder and furrowed your brows at the two boys who had entered.

“Harry?” you asked a bit louder than you intended to causing the attention of the class to turn to Harry and Ron rather than Professor Slughorn.

“Ah! Harry my boy I was beginning to worry, and you’ve brought someone with you I see, what’s your name then?” Slughorn asked, brightly smiling at the two Gryffindors.

“Ron Weasley sir, but I’m dead awful at potions- a menace actually so I’m probably just gonna-“  Ron’s voice wavered as he began to turn around but Harry quickly put his arm out in front of him pushing him back into the classroom.

“Oh, don’t be silly, we’ll sort you out! There are some books in the cupboard over there if you need them” Slughorn pointed towards the end of the classroom where Ron and Harry quickly began fighting over the last book in there.

You and Hermione both gave each other confused glances before your attention was back on the Professor stood in front of you.

“As I was saying I’ve prepared some concoctions this morning. Any ideas what these may be?” you quickly raised your hand Hermione copying your actions as Slughorn’s eyes wandered between the two of you before he eventually pointed at you.

“Yes, miss Y/L/N” Slughorn stepped out of the way as you took a step forward towards the two pots that rested on the table.

“This one is Veritaserum a truth-telling serum and that one over there is Amortentia the most powerful love potion in the world. It’s rumoured to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them” you smiled proudly at yourself before taking a step back towards the other students.

You heard Pansy scoff causing you to quickly turn around to glare at her and just as you did you saw Draco elbow her in the side whispering something in her ear before shaking his head at her actions.

You quickly looked away before Draco’s eyes could catch yours since you felt the annoying feeling of warmth rush up into your cheeks and a smile replace the frown you’d indented to direct at Pansy.

“Very good Miss Y/L/N” Slughorn smiled before beginning to tell the students that whoever managed to brew an acceptable Draught of Living Death would be walking out of the classroom with one vile of Liquid Luck.

You quickly walked over to your station Draco following in suit behind you as you both turned to page 10 on your ‘advanced potion making’ books.

Your eyes wandered over the page before you spotted the instructions.

1. Cut up one Sopophorus bean.

You frowned down at the text as you glanced between it and the bean, it didn’t look like it was meant to be cut, and your suspicions were right as you began noticing your fellow classmates struggle around you.

Your eyes widened as Draco’s bean came hurling at your face at an ungodly speed, you practically had to throw yourself to the floor so it wouldn’t hit you in the face.

“Bloody hell Y/N are you okay!?” Draco panicked as he rushed to your side offering his hand to help you up which you ignored to distracted by the fact he’d called you by your first name.

You quickly got up onto your feet still ignoring his outstretched hand. You’d never in all your years at Hogwarts heard him call anyone by their first name, let alone you, a Gryffindor he’d hated since the first year.

“What did you just call me?” you asked although it came out a bit harsher then you intended it too. You didn’t mind that he was using your first name you just found it incredibly odd especially for someone like him.

“What, Y/L/N? that’s your name isn’t it” he was acting clueless as he walked back around the table to attend to his potion.

“No, you said Y/N” you raised an eyebrow as you watched him grab another bean now simply resorting to ignoring you, whatever you thought, brewing this potion was more important than what name Draco decided to call you.

As you continued to observe the students around you, you noticed Harry grab a silver knife and slowly press it onto the bean. You mirrored his actions and to your delight, it worked.

“How did you do that?” Draco could be heard from opposite you as he furiously looked between the instructions in his book and the crushed bean in your hand.

“Crush it don’t cut it” you shrugged, your finger traveling further down the page and stopping at the second step.

2. Pour in 250 fl.oz. of Standard potioning water and add 5 oz. of African Sea Salt to the beaker. Set the beaker aside after all the water has been added. Be very careful not to shake or move the beaker now.

The rest of the lesson had gone by in a flash and even though you felt like you’d be the one rewarded with the Liquid Luck, it ended up being Harry and you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he managed to brew something better than you.

You remembered Harry continuously failing all his Potions classes never getting more than a poor or an acceptable on any of his assignments or tests.

After class you immediately cornered him, and it didn’t take long for him to confess to the book he’d found. Property of the half-blood prince it read and as you flipped through the many pages it had all the ‘correct’ recipes to every single potion you’d be brewing throughout the term.

“I knew it! You’ve always been dreadful at potions” you finally felt at ease knowing that Harry had only won you by cheating, shaking your head as you placed the book back into his arms.

“Hey! I am not ‘dreadful’ at potions” he imitated you his hands making air quotes at the word dreadful, a laugh slipping past your lips as you remembered a certain incident from when you were younger.

“Oh really? Don’t you remember third year when Snape told us to make a shrinking solution and you poured it all over Hermione-“ you began but Harry quickly cut you off.

“Alright! Alright! You’ve made your point now shove off I don’t feel like listening to this story right now” you threw your head back in laughter as you thought back to a tiny Hermione who hadn’t spoken to Harry a whole week after the incident.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing a great job with Y/L/N, I reckon Potter’s in there more than you” Blaise sounded amused as he came up behind Draco who was watching yours and Harry’s exchange from afar.

“Don’t worry Blaise, I’m only getting started”

Later in the day you, Harry, Ron and Hermione had all decided to take a little trip down to Hogsmeade for a much needed break from your studies.

“No sit beside me” Harry insisted as the four of you made your way into the Three Broomsticks, you gave him a confused glance but nevertheless dragged the chair out from underneath the table and sat down next to him.

You went to ask why but quickly managed to put two and two together once you noticed professor Slughorn sat at the bar, a beer in his hand as he talked with one of the other professors.

“What’s your deal with Slughorn?” you questioned as Harry began waving the professor over. “I need to get into the slug club” you furrowed your brows but before you could question it any further Slughorn had arrived at your table.

“Ah! Mister Potter lovely to see you, you as well Miss Y/L/N” Slughorn smiled completely disregarding Hermione and Ron who sat opposite you.

“Likewise, Professor” you smiled as he and Harry began talking about something you couldn’t be less interested in, instead your eyes began to wander around the small tavern until they finally landed on Draco who was already staring intently at you.

“You’d be welcomed to Y/L/N” your gaze diverted from the platinum blond towards Slughorn who was smiling brightly down at you. “I’d love too!” you agreed having faintly heard him mention a christmas dinner.

“Wonderful! Look for my owl” you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at Hermione’s face who seemed to be more than distraught that she hadn’t received an invitation of her own.

“Oh, how silly of me Granger, I hope I’ll also be seeing you there” Hermione’s face lit up at his words as she repeatedly nodded, Slughorn awkwardly looking over at Ron before speaking, “good to see you Wallenby”.

You were finally able to let out the laugh you’d been holding in as Slughorn exited the tavern. “Oh, shut up Y/N” Ron frowned crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into his chair.

When your laughter had finally died down you offered to go and order your drinks since the waiter had yet to make an appearance at your table.

“Four butter beers please” you smiled at the worker as you leaned onto the bar going to turn around but instead you were met with a black suit your eyes wandering upwards to see Draco towering over you.

You cleared your throat causing him to take a step back, “anything I can help you with?” you questioned as Draco stood motionless in front of you.

“Yes, would you like to join me?” Draco asked gesturing to an empty table at the far end of the tavern. You looked over to where he was pointing causing you to quickly spot his friends who were all sat at another table, their eyes set on you.

“Uhm- I think they’d loved to join you” you pointed towards them causing Draco to quickly snap his head in their direction, making them all quickly turn to each other acting as nonchalant as they could.

“But I’d much rather spend time with you” you felt a weird tingly feeling at his words but nonetheless you didn’t dare act on it your eyes going to your friend’s who were all staring quizzically at you.

“Sorry I- Uhm I can’t I came here with them” you gestured towards your table Draco’s eyes following in the direction you pointed before they were back on you.

“Well alright, but you owe me a date then” he winked before turning around and going back to join his Slytherin friends.

Your mouth hung open as you watched him walk away, did he just say date?

You power walked back towards your friends hastily taking a seat next to Harry who already had his eyes glued on you.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron asked as soon as you’d fully sat down.

“Oh- Uhm, he just wanted to ask me about our assignment” they all looked skeptical at your reply but didn’t question it any further another topic quickly consuming your table.

“Do any of you have a date to the Jingle Ball?” Hermione’s question rang throughout the table, causing both boys shook their heads and you along with them, in all honesty, you didn’t expect to get asked so you’d probably just end up going with Harry like last year.

“Guess we know who Ginny’s going with” you giggled gesturing towards her and Dean who were currently taking a seat at a table not so far from yours, their fingers wrapped around each other’s.

“I’d like to leave” Ron shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he stared at his sister and who he had once considered a close friend. “Honestly Ron they’re only holding hands” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“And snogging” you added on as Ginny connected her lips with Dean’s. “Yep that’s it we’re leaving” Ron stood up grabbing the coat that hung on the chair beside him.

“Oh come on we haven’t even gotten our orders yet!” you protested as all your friends began to stand up, maybe you should have joined Draco before.

“Fine” you huffed once you noticed they had no intention of staying any longer. “Why don’t you just ask Malfoy to come join you, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” Ron teased causing you to quickly hit him in the arm.

“Shut up Ron!”

Once you’d all made it back to Hogwarts you and Hermione separated from Ron and Harry since they claimed to have yet another quidditch practice although you figured it was code for going to scout possible dates for the Jingle Ball.

“So, what did Draco really want earlier?” Hermione gave you a knowing look as she lightly bumped you in the shoulder.

“It was so weird he-he said that I owe him a date” your voice was hesitant as you turned your head to look at Hermione who didn’t seem at all surprised.

“Well, now you know who you can go to the Jingle Ball with” she stated matter of factly causing your eyes to widen as you gaped at her.

“Hermione, I love you but have you gone mad? Me and Draco? I don’t think so” you denied but there was still the lingering feeling of hope deep down in your stomach that you tried with all your might to suppress.

“Well he obviously has a thing for you, and I mean he’s not too bad to look at”

“Shove off”

-

You had been actively avoiding Draco ever since the Hogsmeade trip, something about the entire ordeal just felt weird to you, why was he all of a sudden so bold about his apparent feelings towards you when a couple of weeks ago he wouldn’t even look your way.

But it seemed your luck had run out since he now stood in front of you, hand outstretched as he leaned it against the stone wall preventing you from continuing your way to your Transfigurations class.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something” Draco breathed out. He was getting desperate, it was unbearable, the teasing he’d been receiving from his friends once they’d noticed he wasn’t making any progress with you, and he knew if he didn’t do something soon he was going to lose the bet.

“Well can it wait? I need to get to class” you huffed watching as he pushed himself off the wall to come and stand in front of you, causing your body to turn with him, your back eventually colliding with the wall behind you.

“I was wondering” Draco smirked placing a hand next to your head as he leaned in closer towards you, you now only realizing how much taller he was then you as you found yourself craning your neck upwards to meet his eyes.

“Would you like to be my date for the Jingle Ball” the words made your stomach flip and you felt the sudden urge to let out a squeal, but you somehow managed to keep yourself together, taking in a deep breath before you took a step forward his hand slipping from the wall your faces mere centimeters from each other.

“No” you stated watching as his eyes went wide, clearly, he wasn’t anticipating that answer.

“If you want me to even consider going out with you after all the shit you’ve done over the years, you’re going to have to work for it.”

He watched your ascending figure before you fully left his sight and when you did he angrily kicked the wall cursing underneath his breath, he was used to getting everything and anything he ever wanted without as much as a snap of his finger so this was something he wasn’t used too.

The stakes were high, his entire reputation was on the line and he did not intend to give Blaise the satisfaction of being right or his housemates a reason to tease him for what would probably be the rest of his life.

All the girls at this school would practically fall at his feet, why couldn’t you be like those girls? Make this easy for him, not once in his life had Draco Malfoy had a real challenge when it came to girls but now it seemed the tables had turned, he was going to play your game and he was going to win.

-

It was now the day of the Slytherin versus Gryffindor quidditch game. You, Harry and Hermione, were all sat in the Great Hall watching as Ron entered in his Quidditch gear, helmet, and everything.

You had yet to tell Hermione about Draco asking you to the ball since you didn’t really know how you felt about it yourself and also because he probably wouldn’t be asking you out again, you having let him down quite harshly.

You glared over at the Slytherin table once you heard them beginning to yell things along the lines of ‘Ron you’re a loser’, ‘he doesn’t stand a chance’ and ‘nice hat Weasley’.

“Ignore them, Ron, I know you’ll do great” you reassuringly smiled up at your friend as he took a seat opposite you, his face contorted in worry as he looked over at the Slytherin table who continued to laugh at him.

“Yeah, thanks” he gulped once he turned back to face you, this had to have been the first time you’d ever seen Ron leave his food untouched.

“You look dreadful Ron” Luna’s voice could be heard from the other end of the table, your eyes widening as you looked over at her, “Is that why you put something in his drink” she finished, the last part of her sentence directed at Harry.

You looked over at the boy sat next to you and faintly managed to see a glimmer of light before it disappeared fully into his pocket.

“Liquid Luck?” Hermione sounded from opposite you and you finally managed to put two and two together.

“Are you mental Harry? You’ll get in so much trouble if you’re caught” your eyes widened as you watched him pass Ron the cup of pumpkin juice he’d poured his one vile of Liquid Luck into moments ago, well according to Luna at least.

“Don’t drink it Ron” Hermione scolded, before you both gasped as you watched Ron without a moment’s thought chug the remaining juice in his cup.

You watched intently as his frown was turned upside down and he slammed the cup back onto the table, a sly smirk now playing on his lips.

“You could be expelled for that” Hermione pointed out glaring at Harry who innocently smiled at her before shrugging and stating that he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Come on Harry we’ve got a game to win” Ron’s sudden aura of confidence was radiating off of him as he quickly pushed himself away from the table and began exiting the Great Hall.

“We’ll see you guys there?” Harry questioned as he looked between the two of you also beginning to stand up.

“We wouldn’t miss it” Hermione assured him as you both watched him awkwardly wave before he turned to follow Ron.

“This is going to be interesting”

-

Loud screams and chants began filling your ears as you watched the two teams make their way out onto the Quidditch pitch, you and Hermione quickly joined in beginning to clap and cheer as you made eye contact with Ron who looked as ready as ever.

A particular blond seemed to have caught your eye since before you knew it Madame Hooch was announcing the start of the game causing you to snap out of your trance, when you looked back at Draco he was already smirking up at you making you quickly look away as your cheeks turned bright red, pulling your Gryffindor patterned scarf up over your face in hopes that he wouldn’t notice the crimson colour.

“Seekers shake hands!” you watched as Harry and Draco walked up to each other clasping each other’s arms before Draco retorted something in Harry’s direction causing him to quickly pull his hand away from his the game now officially beginning.

It had been almost an hour now and so far Gryffindor was in the lead the score being 23-45. You were beginning to think you’d lost your voice but nevertheless you still raised your hands high in the air and cheered Harry on as he dove towards the snitch with Draco hot on his heels.

You anxiously began biting your nails as the two continuously bumped into each other both their arms outstretched as they neared the golden object.

“Come on Harry” you whispered the anticipation was killing you, but you didn’t have to wait much longer since the two boys suddenly crashed into each other sending them both flying off of their brooms and hurling towards the grass below.

You gasped as you stood up beginning to lean over the railing to get a better look at the two seekers who now both laid on the grass clutching their stomachs, but you widely smiled once you noticed a familiar shimmer coming from Harry’s hand.

“Yes!” you screamed as he carefully sat himself up raising the golden object up into the air for the rest of the stadium to see. Your happiness was quickly replaced with worry once you noticed the Slytherin boy laid next to Harry wasn’t moving.

“Is Malfoy okay?” you frantically shook Hermione as you pointed down at him but Hermione paid you no mind her eyes trained on Ron who was proudly raising his hands in the air as it was announced that Harry had caught the snitch.

Since everybody seemed to be too caught up with themselves you again leaned over the railing before screaming Draco’s name hoping it would at least capture the attention of someone from his team so they could help him.

You felt a wave of relieve wash over you as you watched his previously limp body turn over before he placed his hands on the grass pushing himself to sit up, the hand that wasn’t holding him up immediately going to rub his forehead.

He sent a glare Harry’s way before he grabbed his broom and began storming off the field his teammates following shortly after, for some odd reason you began to feel bad for him as you watched the disapproved glances from his fellow Slytherin’s being thrown his way but you decided to push the feeling away joining in on the celebration of your house.

Once you arrived at the Gryffindor common room a celebration had quickly ensued the hollering of Ron’s last name began sounding all around the room as you began clapping in rhythm to all of their chants, you and Hermione watching as Ron got pushed in the middle of the crowd.

Before you knew it a girl you didn’t know the name of had wrapped her arms around his neck, harshly pulling him down to meet her lips, you gasped as you faintly remembered a conversation between you and Hermione where she’d admitted to harboring a crush on the ginger boy.

You quickly turned to see Hermione pushing her way through the crowd and out of the common room. You began following her but quickly lost sight of her as you tried your best to squeeze through the teenagers who had now begun lifting Ron into the air.

“Hermione!” you called out but it was impossible to hear anything over the celebrations so you gave up on calling out to her simply resorting to pushing the students that stood in your way.

Once you finally managed to reach the door that led out into the hallway you frantically pushed it open beginning to search the corridors for your best friend.

When you rounded a particular corner, you came crashing into a much taller figure then yourself sending you flying towards the ground at the impact.

“Watch where you’re goin-“ the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy sounded from above you but stopped once he made eye contact with you. “Y/L/N?” he questioned before reaching his hand out to you which you accepted letting him pull you back up onto your feet.

“What are you doing out here, shouldn’t you be celebrating?” there was a defiant malice to his tone as he scowled in the direction of your common room where chants could still be faintly heard.

“I could ask you the same thing Malfoy” you raised an eyebrow since you weren’t anywhere near the dungeons where the Slytherin common room was.

“Just needed some air, some people aren’t exactly thrilled with the outcome of today’s game” Draco shrugged causing your stomach to drop slightly at his obvious disappointment. He sat himself down on a bench a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he let his head fall back onto the wall.

You slowly sat down next to him carefully contemplating your next words. “Not that it would mean anything to you but I thought you were really good” you tried to comfort him as you watched a faint smile appear on his lips before he turned his head towards you.

You didn’t realize just how close you were to each other until his eyes quickly looked down to your lips and back into your eyes. You suddenly remembered why you were out here in the first place, your thoughts traveling back to Hermione who had disappeared only moments ago.

“I’m sorry but I really need to go, uh- I’ll uh see you in class” you excused yourself before standing up and continuing your search for your best friend, but a hand wrapping around your wrist stopped you dead in your tracks as you were turned back around.

Your eyes slowly travelled up from Draco’s tight grip on you and back into his icy grey eyes. You carried a confused glance on your face which Draco seemed to notice since he quickly let go of your wrist.

“Thank you” is all he said before he swiftly turned back around and began walking down the corridor, disappearing out of sight.

next part

[thebarbaricbeast]

astro notes mini cause im in the middle of a zoom meeting....part 3

Aries in a Virgo degree especially in the inner planets could get easily irritated or mad

mercury in Scorpio have long term memory mercury in Gemini have short term memory.....just an observation

aquarius placements are bad bitches they probably started planning their business at 12 years old. and they are so excited to move out of the house lol they just want their independence...

moon in the 3rd house culture is deciding to wake up because the any electronic is on, the smell of food, guests over, just stimulation. if there is no stimulation or uniqueness from the day before they probably wont get out of bed same with mars/moon in Gemini, Aquarius moon, mars/moon in Sagittarius and mars/moon in libra

Lilith is the moon's errors and inaccuracy in its orbit which creates this dark feminine energy opposite the moon which is the divine receptive and submissive feminine. Lilith rebels against being submissive and receptive and dependable. the moon's faults are very unpredictable and are not foreseeable or calculated by observers this is what make Lilith so unpredictable and hard to maintain. the moon and Lilith naturally makes a square but if the moon and Lilith are in signs that makes an easy aspect this will smoothen the square. if there is a square and opposition on top of that then it will create an arena where the devil and god are at war meaning the dark feminine is at war with the "angelic" and divine feminine. This becomes the most powerful aspect Lilith can have. im gonna stop there lol this post is getting too long.....

having libra placement with some impulsive placements is very hard to maintain. libra is naturally passive aggressive but a aspect like "moon aspect pluto or moon to the mars" can have outbursts of outrage that no one saw coming

woman with harsh venus-jupiter aspect can be extremely frugal with money or extremely careless meaning they could buy the whole mall lol

venus in Sagittarius usually listen to an extreme of something for example extreme rap or rock if aspecting the moon they could skip songs alot

saggittarians with alot of pluto aspects or scorpio placements could have a "dont fuck with my freedom" vibe

i think taurus are the best actors. they have the ability to fabricate intense energy to act or perform

Pluto in the 12th house people could impact people for generations its like all people who are born will have a fundamental understanding on this person..ex: marilyn monroe

Lilith Aries/Aquarius culture is wearing red to a funeral

vesta is another feminine asteroid i like to think of it as mars and venus together with some Neptune........its a feminine spiritual flame that allows your to acquire goals.she relates to spiritual practices,work and devotion

Vesta being involved with Pluto could be seen in witchcraft or could be this edgy type of feminine

Scorpio risings with Jupiter aspects could be very intimidating they usually have a long nose...

i see alot of taurus that are veryyyyyy edgy like emo clothing and black and red orrrr ......just very simple clothing lol

mercury in aspect to asteroid sappho is a person that is very very good with their words they can lure people in with just a breath from their lips

sappho in aspect to Lilith is more of a captivating sexual nature.very sexually creative and if in hard aspect it could create someone that is excessively self indulgent in expressing their sexually or has trouble expressing their sexual side or it can be using their attraction to absorb negative things they could use to manipulate people(the opposite sex) to get what they want

moon in hard aspect with the ascendant are incredibly good at lying

they say Capricorn,scorpio,leo, and aries are more favorable placements for the midheaven although it willl do well i think Aquarius,libra,pisces and saggitaurius are very great too. aquarius relates to Independence, ideas, communities, and humans this is very good for a person that makes huge impact on the world. libra relates to justice, peace, relationships, and love/romance. i have never seen a libra mc native who was not welll liked unless there are harsh aspects affecting it. these people can really be anyone they want to be ..as president they could restore justice and peace and they could be huge business owners since libra is a cardinal sign which are known as the executives. everybody is attracted to these people and ive seen it could succeed in doctors too. pisces mcs are just amazing they help so much and they help the underdogs they are what keeps our communities alive. Sagittarius are the best leaders preferably in the midheaven they can lead nations and teach and inspire tons of people. they strive for knowledge and expand horizons and lands. they could expand countries as leaders and they could restore education. virgos mc are one of my faves too they are opposite pisces mc who are more inclined in the arts. they see the more practical approach in helping people. no matter what they have in their birth charts this placement will compel them to serve the world.

fortune conjunct jupiter in the birth chart is very important. it is a strong indicator of some type of success in life but the person has to go through long journeys to arrive there and pick up great knowlege.

lilith square the ascendant people might have strange marks or scars on their body that they never knew were there from time to time

mars square the ascendant might have had an ingury to remember as a child Pluto conjunct the ascendant in Sagittarius too

moon in a fire sign really crave a partner that is patient, understanding and really good with money.

i think Lilith in libra is the most dangerous Lilith sign because they are frighteningly charming. what they tend to is make people fall in love with them then impose them in a very manipulative way to express their undying love for them.if they feel that the love is not enough they leave the person in search for another men/woman or continue to manipulate the person into doing so. they do this to make themselves feel better because of an experience they will face or have faced in their life they feel the need for a partner to love them and if they dont feel its enough they will leave...unless they actually like this person but it happens......very manipulative in relationships. this would probably be the most unbalanced libra placement.

moon harsh aspect juno either attracts very emotional partners or partners that are emotionally absent....might be on their phones during dates alot lol

pluto harsh aspect to juno attract partners that want to control them...very jealous and protective

scorpio in the 4th house people are veryyyyy protective and they might be parents who teach their kids "the hard way"...they might have seaky children and children who are distant or children that are very clingy ...they know everything their child is thinking at all times...

every water moon hated going to school as a child( like kindergarten or pre-k) cause they didn't want their mommy to leave..probably frequent calls because they wanted "mommy" to come pick them up or really hates leaving their mom and entering school alone.

pluto in the 5th house people probably lost their virginity at a young age or just done something.....not good as a child...like steal a car etc

venus in the 8th/scorpio might be tempted to be exotic dancers lol or leo/libra in the 8th

sun in the 8th house people have the potential to be really really funny and entertaining. they probably have so much to say and are born with a natural confidence...they give me like god(but underworld) vibes and they are not afraid to put someone in their place. they would probably be involved in drama or just not care at all. (in school)......they have anger issues lol

child i just have to say that Sagittarius guys can be jerks....but not all of them but most of them lol

if you ever meet a immature scorpio you should probably run they will ruin your life...veryyyyy manipulative and they can be liars...verrry jealous........"if i cant have you know one can vibe" in a relationship.

scorpio risings can do weird thing with their bodies like with their tongues or fingers etc

venus square the ascendant people probably have this one feature that they really hate on their body.....

moon in water signs people tend to lie alot when it comes to situations with emotional pressure especially if this is in a air degree.

ive noticed that alot of people are jealous of leo risings

jupiter in the 1st house people love attention. they shower in it and they can do reckless things in in the middle of the spotlight

people with moon in Sagittarius probably had a mother that let the dad take charge or gave the kid space to explore life. Sagittarius moons probably went through alot.

[cuntess-carmilla]

On disability and gender

I'm writing this from my perspective as a dyadic TME non-binary lesbian (also mixed but very pale and non-Black, as well as relatively thin). I will group myself with women but like, I'm also not really a woman it's complicated lol. I say this because I can't have first-hand comprehension of all the possible dynamics between gender and disability, and other physically disabled people are very much encouraged to add their own thoughts and perspectives to this post.

I don't feel equipped to speak on how being disabled and intersex impacts gendered experiences because I have too much left to learn, so I'm sorry that I'm not going to go into it. It's not because I don't recognize that struggle, it's because I just don't have the range, so please, if you're an intersex and physically disabled person and you want to expand on this, don't be afraid to do so.

Able-bodieds can reblog but don't speak out of turn.

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

For a long time I've been trying to articulate my thoughts and pain on how physical disability impacts our gendered experiences and I think I'm finally starting to get to it.

When you're physically disabled you're immediately stripped of a (willing) gender identity as well as desexualized.

Gender is embodied and performed. You can embody it "incorrectly" and perform it "poorly". Everything regarding the embodiment of physically disabled people is seen as incorrect, and the literal meaning of "disabled" is that we can't perform the same way that able-bodied people can, or at least we can't without severely impacting our wellness.

Disabled men are emasculated. Constructs of ideal manhood are in big part built on things such as physical prowess, never expressing vulnerability, being self-sufficient outside of anything domestic, and conquering women sexually and romantically.

Disabled men are seen as weak, they are seen as pathetic for having visible vulnerabilities or (if their disability isn't immediately visible) for exposing their vulnerabilities instead of "sucking it up". By needing aid, accessibility and carers that do more than what a wife would traditionally do for any man, the sense of self-sufficiency men are supposed to perform is unavailable to disabled men. All disabled people are desexualized and seen as repulsive once our sexualities are acknowledged, and even disabled dyadic cishet men can't escape this. Able-bodied women see them as unfit for any sort of serious romantic or sexual partnership. Not to mention too the traditional role of men as providers and how difficult it is for any disabled person to acquire wealth at all, let alone enough to support more than ourselves alone. The rates of poverty for physically disabled people are fucking astronomical, so most disabled men can't even use that to their advantage in romance and sex to make up for all the other ways in which they're at a disadvantage compared to able-bodied men.

Disabled women fail at embodying and performing every single aspect of traditional womanhood too, but in particular; domestic labor, sexual labor, and beauty standards.

All labor is difficult if not downright impossible when you're disabled. Disabled women who need carers as adults are seen as complete failures because, even as children, but especially as adults, we're the ones who're supposed to be the carers of others, not the other way around. People love to pretend that women are coddled more than men, but nothing breaks that illusion more than being a disabled woman. A woman's needs are supposed to be invisible and self-fulfilled, or else we're whiny spoiled bitches, and guess what that means for disabled women. When we can't perform this pristine role we're immediately marked as failures, we're undesirable and nothing but a parasitic drag in the lives of abled people.

Yes, not all disabled women are straight, plenty of us are bi or lesbians, many are also aro/ace, but the point is that the patriarchy doesn't really give a shit what a woman's sexuality is, because no woman is seen as having sexual agency, so even if we're not straight we're expected to exist to satisfy men sexually. I cannot describe how difficult it is to be sexual, even when you're not ace, if you're physically disabled. Speaking from my own experience, trying to maintain a sex life as someone who experiences chronic fatigue and chronic pain is one of the most frustrating and demoralizing aspects of my disability. I want sex, I want to want sex, to be able to fuck my fiancé, but most of the time I simply can't gather the energy to even feel horny. I feel like such a failure of a lover because of it. Even though my fiancé is patient and understanding with me!

Can you imagine what it is like for disabled women who aren't as "lucky" as me, to have a partner who understands that we simply can't do it all the time even if we do want to? I don't want to go into too much detail about this because it's very painful and triggering to many, but I think you can imagine what happens to a lot of disabled women (and disabled people in general) when we're not satisfying a partner sexually and they get too frustrated by it. Being as vulnerable as we are, nobody cares much what happens to us. More so since, again, physically disabled people are seen as sexually repulsive, so if anyone wants sex with us we're supposed to be "thankful" for it, no matter the circumstances.

As for beauty standards, any woman who doesn't fit traditional beauty standards will know just how badly men treat you when they don't find you physically appealing, and well... Let's just say that a cane or a wheelchair aren't seen by society as particularly attractive, no matter how much the woman using them fits traditional beauty standards otherwise. Then there's female amputees, women with deformities, etc. In my case, I'm a literal mutant. If I don't disguise my tells with corsetry, long sleeves, and so, so much more, my body looks "off", I have been told repeatedly that my body looks "off" my whole life, and I'm one of the least visibly disabled ones! Even regarding body hair it's fucking hell. My collagen is so elastic that when new hair grows it stays ingrown unless I manually break my skin with a needle or a pumice stone (no, gentler ways of exfoliation don't work), but shaving isn't ideal either because my skin is, due to my altered collagen too, literally transparent and you can see the roots of my dark hairs under it even if I shave down to accidentally harming my skin with the blade.

Performing femininity at all is just... It's fucking hell. If it's exhausting for able-bodied women, can you imagine what it is like for us? I can barely manage to shower, by the time I'm done with my hair, makeup and outfit, every bit of my very limited energy is depleted and then I still have the rest of the day to go through. And I LIKE being feminine. I like wearing makeup and wearing the outfits I wear and yet I still dread it when I know I'll have to do more than stay in my pajamas at home.

Also, the perceived fragility of disabled women isn't the type of fragility that is seen as desirable in women. It's not delicacy. Wheelchairs, canes and other mobility aids aren't seen as "delicate" or "demure". Neither is kinesio tape, or compression stockings, or any other sort of medical equipment which, on top of it all, tend to not be very "aesthetic". Our fragility isn't the romanticized type, it's the "wow, you're an useless burden who can't serve me the way I expect you to" type.

When it comes to "binary" disabled trans people (for a lack of a better term) the degendering is even more intense than it already is for their cis counterparts (all that I described above applies to them too). There's a dichotomy of the even heavier denial of their actual genders as men and women due to the combination of their transness and disabilities, contrasting with how even if they were to conform to their assigned genders at birth they'd still be seen as failures at it due to everything I've already stated. There's also the sentiment that their identifying outside of their assigned gender at birth is a sort of consolation prize, something they're going for only because they were failing at being proper cis men and cis women, and thus their actual genders are even more invalidated and effectively pathologized in the most medical sense of the word, which is already a problem for all trans people, but for physically disabled trans people this intensifies the problem even more.

When it comes to non-binary disabled people things get so fucking confusing and infuriating. If binary disabled people get denied their manhood and womanhood, best believe that multigender disabled people (bigender, genderfluid, etc) are denied all aspects of their genders even harder. Not even completely agender disabled people are safe from being seen as failures of their gender identities by people who would perfectly respect the identity of an agender but able-bodied person. The fact that the default gendered status of all disabled people is forcefully degendered makes it so agender disabled people aren't seen as having any agency or self-determination in their (lack of or neutral) gender identity, it's seen as a passive inevitability from their embodiment, so it doesn't really "count", while simultaneously being subjected to the general transphobic bullshit any other agender person would be subjected to.

All of these things already affect white, thin and dyadic physically disabled people. When you add race (especially Blackness and/or being dark skinned), fatness and being intersex into the mix, the ways in which we're degendered and misgendered are off the fucking rails.

We can't fucking win.

[themoonandotherslikeit]

Painted - Chapter One

“Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.” - Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Y/N has moved on, her scars are barely noticeable anymore, and she’s finally stable. Or at least she was.

10 years after the worst day of her life, Y/N found herself staring face to face with an unimaginable horror. In the wake of her worst nightmare come to life, she finds herself reunited with the man that saved her all those years ago - Agent Dean Winchester who had left her a decade before broken and wanting.

Dean Winchester has spent the last 10 years trying desperately to forget Y/N and the tragedy that he pulled her out of, but when she called asking for his help he dropped everything to come to her aid as he knew he always would.

Can Y/N and Dean solve the mystery that has resurfaced after all this time? Will they be able to resist the pull between them? Or will this be the final brush strokes on a canvas, sealing their fate for good?

No Beta currently, all mistakes are my own!

Pairing: Dean/Reader

Tags: Dark!Fic, Agent!Dean, Serial Killer Fic, Smut etc.

Chapter One

Everything has a color. To Y/N, violence was red. She pulled back her arm, her fist colliding with the heft of her punching bag with a soft thud . One, two, kick. She liked training alone, it centered her, cleared her mind. She didn’t have to worry about pulling her punches, avoiding the knees when she kicked. The biggest danger was the skin on her knuckles, which were expertly wrapped.

It all started as self defense, a way to ease her mind as she walked back to her Jeep on the dark nights, but it had evolved to something else altogether. She didn’t fight because she was afraid, she fought because she was pissed . She was pissed that she had to learn to defend herself; that other women did. She taught classes so that her community would be safe, so that they’d find less women abandoned in ditches beaten to death.

But when she was alone, it was something else completely. The why of the thing was a mystery most of the time, even to her. People used to ask her if she was afraid she would see him again. She wasn't, not really. But she kept fighting anyway, and she would be lying if his face wasn’t the one she pictured every time her fist collided with the bag.

The beat of her music throbbed in her ears like an angry heartbeat as she went for an uppercut that rattled the bag. She was panting, sweat rolling down her temple. Each hit was a beat of her heart, causing the bag to come alive. With each swing she made, it swung back at her. She was strong, and she wasn’t holding back. One, two, kick.

Her watch chimed to alert her that she hit her workout goal for the day, but she had more fire within her that needed to be extinguished. It was a long workout, even for her, but she had a lot on her mind. If she was thinking about the ache of her knuckles and burning in her biceps, she was less likely to obsess over the things she couldn’t control. So she hit the bag again and again.

The sun was starting to speckle through the blinds on the storefront window, making the sweat on her arms glisten like diamonds. She considered, just for a moment, how the coast would look against the purples and oranges of the sunrise. She could have a coffee and just enjoy the silence. Or she could keep fighting. That answer was easy. She didn’t have time to appreciate the beauty in life. She hadn’t for a long time. All of the colors had lost their brightness, the depth that he used to talk about so frequently. The thing that kept him mixing until it was just right.

She hadn’t thought of him in so long, so when the thought came to her, she didn’t react fast enough to the bag swinging back toward her from her last hit. It collided directly with her face, sending her backwards onto the mat. A loud, painful crack echoed through her skull as her nose collided with the bag. She laid there for a moment, groaning. She tried to sit up, her nose throbbing and her mouth filling with blood from the hit. “Fuck me,” she whispered to no one in particular.

Trauma was black. According to her therapist, there were different types of trauma. Y/N learned that they all could be sorted into one of three main categories: acute trauma that results from a single incident, chronic trauma that is repeated and prolonged such as domestic violence or abuse, and complex trauma which is exposure to varied and multiple traumatic events, often of an invasive, interpersonal nature. More so, there was capital T trauma and what she called little t trauma . Capital T was the big stuff, the stuff that wrecks a person in an irreparable way. Little t was less so. It is possible for a traumatized person to get over a little t trauma.

In Y/N’s life she’d seen her fair share of trauma. Probably more than a thirty-three year old woman should’ve. She’d seen trauma happen to others, happen to herself, and continue to happen in case after case that she worked. She saw trauma that others didn’t. The kind of trauma that couldn’t be seen from the outside. The kind of trauma that a person inflicts upon themselves.

She was always told that trauma healed over time, like a bruise, but for her, trauma was a cut that kept reopening. It was a scab that she couldn’t stop picking at, a bruise that seemed to deepen to a darker purple before it ever yellowed. Her eyes stung from the hit, and she wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

The only way she knew how to heal was to move on, leave the trauma behind. Her therapist told her to imagine herself placing the memories in a box and locking them away. Sometimes, when she was alone, she could hear that box screaming, banging, and begging to be opened. She resisted the urge, especially today.

She forced herself to stand, her head spinning. She leaned against the wall to regain her balance before she walked out to her car, her head tilted back. She could feel the blood roll down the back of her throat since it was unable to escape her nostril. She’d be pissed if she broke her nose, but, from what she could tell, it seemed intact even though it hurt like a bitch.

Her headphones were askew, but still playing her workout mix. She adjusted them and spit some blood from her mouth. She wouldn’t be thwarted by a fall; no, she wouldn’t be taken down so easily. If she fell in the gym and no one was there to witness her humiliation, did she even fall? The answer to that depended on if anyone would notice her bruised nose after the fact. If they didn’t, as far as she was concerned, she had a perfect refreshing work out with no issues whatsoever. Maybe with enough makeup her secret would remain her own.

10 years earlier

The sound of his paintbrush swiping delicately against canvas was soothing to Y/N. She sat on the edge of the bed, atop black satin sheets, resting on her hands, her back arched and her legs spread just right. Her long strawberry hair fell down her shoulders in loose waves onto the sheets.

“Just like that,” Lucifer murmured, a blonde wave falling into his eye. He was focused, his tongue partially out of his mouth, his eyebrows knitted together. She wasn’t able to see the painting from her vantage point, but she knew what it was. It was always the same. I just can’t get you right, he’d complain, his voice laced with pain and disdain. She thought he made her more beautiful than she ever could be on her own.

When she’d met him, he was so focused on his art. He would eat, sleep, and drink his paintings. His clothing was speckled with oil colors, his fingers calloused from gripping paint brushes for hours on end. She found him sexy and mysterious. She was dying to know the man behind such beautiful pieces of art.

It didn’t take long for his obsession to shift from his art directly to her. He doted on her endlessly, showering her in flowers, candy, candlelight dinners. They made love constantly. He couldn’t get enough of her.

“Let me paint you, Y/N,” he’d purr between her legs. “I just want to paint you.” It took her weeks to say yes. She’d always brush him off, blushing and insecure. “You’re exquisite. Please let me paint you.”

She struggled to deny Lucifer’s requests when he asked as his breath tickled the inside of her thigh. It was hard to deny him of anything , if she was being honest. The first time she said yes, he arrived in her bedroom and asked her to drop the floral robe she was wearing. He’d seen her naked dozens of times, but she was still nervous, vulnerable, staring at him. She brought him a bag, insisting that he look inside before she disrobed.

He stared at the bag, confused.

“They’re body paints,” she explained. “I thought you wanted to paint me.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. They made love on the apartment floor, painting designs on each other's skin until she was swollen and wanting, gasping his name into the night.

When she woke up in the early hours of the morning, she found him painting her image onto a canvas laying splayed out, covered in swirls of sex and paint. “Don’t move,” he instructed calmly. She wanted to be angry, but she still felt drunk from being ravished, and his eyes examining her were sensual and slow. She watched his wrist spin and curl, and a chill ran up her spine.

“Lucifer, how much longer? ”

“You’re just so beautiful, Y/N. You know that, right?”

“No,” she murmured, and his eyebrows knitted together.

“We will fix that,” he promised. “You will always be this beautiful.” He was talking to her, she logically knew that, but from her vantage point she could’ve sworn he was speaking to the canvas.

Present

Y/N entered the code to unlock the front gate to her property, leaning half out her car window. Thankfully, her bleeding had stopped, but her upper lip and chin were still crusty with blood. She looked like a mess, if she was being honest, but the only one there to judge her was her chocolate brown pit bull, Castiel, and Y/N figured that Cas wouldn’t care much either way.

The iron gate opened with a groan, sliding to her right. She slid back into her seat and shifted out of park to pull forward down the driveway toward her house. It was modest, nothing too big or magnificent. The outside was grey brick, a two story home with a large green yard and a pool in the back. As she pulled up, she could already see Castiel’s nose pressed against the window, her head through the thick curtains. Y/N smiled, her heart warming at the sight. She wiggled her fingers at Castiel in a small wave.

Castiel greeted her at the door, his tail wagging excitedly. She knelt down to pet his chin only to be met with deep blue eyes and a pink tongue. “I know, buddy. I need to shower somethin’ fierce.”

She kissed his nose and murmured. “I’m good. We’re good.” Half the time she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince. She locked the front door behind her and kicked off her shoes. Her arms ached and her heartbeat was still residing in her sinus from her fall. She let her hair out of the tie that kept it up in a high ponytail, letting it fall down her back. Her head was sore from her hair being up for hours. She massaged her scalp with a wince. Everything hurt and she couldn’t wait to wash her problems down the drain and start fresh.

Her work out clothes were discarded on the bathroom floor, the sound of running water and the steam accumulating in the air were already starting to soothe her. She took a deep breath in through her nose with a wince before stepping into the shower and closing the curtain behind her.

Y/N faced the water, letting the heat roll down her skin. The water ran brown from sweat and blood. She braced her hands on the walls of the shower to keep herself steady. She closed her eyes, letting the baptism wash her worries away. Time has a way of wrecking a person, she knew that much. It gave a false sense of security, a sense of growth and change. She spent so much time trying to put her past behind her, locked away inside of a box.

She opened her eyes and looked at the half sleeves covering her wrists and forearms. The flowers and vines twisting around her arms, climbing, and growing out of thick, pink scars - creating something beautiful out of tragedy. She had hoped, when she got them, that they would help her heal and forget. She could laugh now at that naive girl who thought anything would let her forget. Time heals wounds, yes, but the greatest ones still ached in the cold and the rain.

Suds from soap and shampoo swirled down the drain, and she reached down to turn off the water. She wrapped her hair in a towel and slipped into her robe. She could hear Castiel whine outside of the bathroom door, unusually unhappy with not being able to see her. “You’re good, Cas,” she called out, wiping the fog from the mirror. She examined her nose. It was a little swollen and already beginning to bruise. She cursed to herself and just hoped that it’d be dull enough that her painted foundation would cover it. The last thing she needed was to worry those around her.

Castiel scratched at the door again, and she opened it, her dog circling her legs impatiently. “What is your deal?” Y/N reached down and scratched behind her ear, eliciting licks from Castiel.

Towel drying her hair, she stepped out of the bathroom and rounded the corner. Her eyes were heavy, and her head pounded from the hit. She needed coffee, bad . As she turned the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks, her towel falling from her hand. Castiel whined insistently, nudging Y/N’s leg with his nose. She stared face to face with something so familiar that it made her gut tighten, acid crawling up her throat.

A painting hung at her eye level in the hallway near the bathroom. Fine brush strokes of pale peach skin, strawberry twists of hair splayed out on black satin sheets, flushed cheeks, parted lips, and freckled legs spread out, exposing a delicate pink vagina tucked between them.

Y/N stared at herself. Her eyes closed, her swollen mouth, her pink cheeks on a face and head that belonged to her. Her freckled neck blended downwards onto heavy breasts with dark nipples and a mole under the right that she’d never seen before.

Her knees were weak, and she stumbled back, bumping into Castiel and tumbling backwards. She fell, hitting her tailbone on the wood floors with a hard smack . Tears burned in her eyes, from pain or fear she wasn’t sure. Castiel came to her, licking her cheek in concern.

Anxiety crept into her chest, pressing down heavily. She gasped for breath and clamped her eyes shut. She pictured the box inside of her mind, thrashing and pulsing with anger, begging to be opened. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she forced herself to stand on shaking legs. She made her way to her bedroom and quickly spun the code on her safe, pulling her gun from it. She clicked the safety off and held it in front of her.

With each room that she checked she only found an emptiness that overtook her home with a heaviness that seemed to engulf her completely. Nothing seemed strange or out of place other than the large depiction of her naked body that hung on her wall.

She kept her gun positioned outward and pulled out her cellphone, dialing the number that she could never forget. All she could hope for was an answer, and as a ring met her ear she let out a sigh of relief. It had been so long, she had expected a disconnected tone. She pressed the phone closer to her ear as she heard his voice.

“Y/N?”

“He’s back.”

------

Chapter Two

Read on A03 Here

Tag List: @lyarr24

@dean-winchesters-bacon

@waywardbaby @akshi8278

[ransprang]

Hello! This is my first time asking for a romantic matchup ( OHSHC & Hunter x Hunter )! I'm a little nervous haha...

I go by the name Prince and my pronouns are : He/They. I'm an INFP and a 4'10" Pisces.

I have black, curly hair that ends above my shoulders with the left side shaved. I have brown eyes and a slightly tanned skin. I am Pilipino. I usually wear hoodies/jackets and shorts/jogging pants but I tend to wear elaborate androgynous clothing for occasions. My ears are pierced and I have a lot of scars on both my legs and arms due to skin asthma.

I'm a total introvert who would not leave the house unless necessary, and I tend to avoid large crowds and people since I have social anxiety. I'm quite distant, cold and awkward when I first meet people but I get really weird ( ahem, shameless.) and outgoing once I warm up to someone. I'm a worrywart and prone to have pessimistic/intrusive thoughts. My humor is dark and inappropriate, and very sexual. Although, I'm panromantic asexual. My love language are physical affection ( back hugs, cuddles, face peppering, playing with your hands, hand holding, & arm over the shoulder. ), and cheesy/corny flirts. I'm also a psychology student, an artist, a cosplayer, and a creative makeup artist. I enjoy horror films and historical novels. I like playing pranks on others, listening to all kinds of music, and dancing. I dream to be a full-time cosplayer or a psychologist. I like to travel the world as well, take photos, and, of course, watch anime and read manga! I like hanging out in a dimly lit bedroom, watching movies, or at an abandoned area ( parking lot, building, etc. ) I enjoy solitude and the dark. Oh! I'm scared of butterflies and allergic to dust.

My ideal type is someone who are understanding, accepting and patient. Someone who understands that I need space in order to recharge my energy to socialize again. Supportive, honest, and loyal. Perhaps someone who can love me just as much or much more as I love them. I'm a total sap and an affectionate person to the person I love. I'm the type to wake up every morning and message them, "Good morning, hun!" and I also check up on them if they're feeling well. Someone who isn't afraid to be themselves around me and can open their heart to me. That's the biggest trust they can give to me. Loving, caring, and perceptive.

Apart from that, I also like someone who can be submissive towards me. I find them to be cute and it makes me wanna bully them more for being so adorable :") ( Will spoil them to bits after ). I may be short but I do not enjoy being the little spoon/submissive partner.

SFW & NSFW

Hi Prince thanks for the request!

we love your personality you seem hella cool. admin san is very happy to have found someone shorter than her (she's 4'11") anyways for OHSHC we thought the best character for you would be................

USA CHAN

SFW

usa chan is perfect for you because you can do anything with it! it is very versatile! usa chan is down to walk around abandoned buildings, watch movies or dancing anytime, anywhere!

need some alone time? shove usa chan into a closet and you're done! it's that simple!

N/SFW

oh you want a sub? well guess what, usa chan cant fucking talk or do anything so it'll be your lil bitch

We even chose a runner up for you and that is...................

MORI SENPAI

SFW

Mori senpai may come across as a dom due to his height but worry not, our man is the perfect sub. In fact he's literally Honey senpai's subordinate for the whole show.

He would show affection in more understated ways such as remembering your birthday and every little thing you tell him. If you mentioned a manga or movie you like a few months ago he'd get you a physical copy of it.

He would also be super in tune with your feelings and try to accommodate to your needs for physical affection as much as he can

In terms of solitude and and staying inside Mori senpai would be the ideal cuddle partner for nights in watching movies

He would also protect you from all the butterflies in the world

The height difference would be no trouble to Mori either. You and Honey Senpai are basically the same height after all. Get used to having a tall subby lover following you around

Mori isn't the most fun to play a prank on, but he would be a great accessory for playing pranks on the rest of the club

N/SFW

You like to climb him like a tree and push him down on the bed. then have your way with him (whichever way that may be)

your dark and sexual humor may not outwardly get a response from Mori but you can tell by the blood flowing to his ears and nether regions that he is enjoying himself. he is a naughty boy shhhh

he'd be happy to receive all of your physical affection and give you some back as well

If you keep him up long enough by dancing and watching movies, he'll eventually grow sleepy. AND THATS WHEN THE (subby) BEAST AWAKENS BABYYYYYY. he's WAY more physically affectionate and flirtatious

And now for HxH to suit your affinity for music we chose........................................

MELODY

SFW

Any time you get nervous or have pessimistic thoughts she would play her flute to calm you down. If you allow her to, she's also willing to play the flute for when you get nervous in crowds or around strangers.

You and her could spend hours watching movies together with her commenting on the music of all the films you show her. Can't wait to make her listen those Hans Zimmer tracks

She would also enjoy hanging out with you in parks, maybe play you a gentle melody while y'all take in the night sky and peaceful atmosphere

She would also totally get your dark humor and wouldn't misconstrue it as a negative quality since she'll always know that the sound of your heart is pure and you are just joking

Physical affection would probably make her pretty flustered so you can always bully her about that. But she's pretty mature and will love you and shower you with affection in her own way.

N/SFW

In the bedroom she likes to start off by playing her flute at the frequency which makes your piercings vibrate, getting you in the mood.

Although at first she would be shy with kisses/bedroom stuff and blush beautifully when you tease her. She would slowly warm up to you once you really got going and would lap up all the pampering and love you shower her with afterwards

Your knowledge of sigmund freud's theories mixed with your skills at cosplay would allow you to present her with the perfect father daughter roleplay scenarios melody never thought she wanted

Melody's deft fingers would be proficient at getting herself off especially when she knows you're watching :)

Your Princesses, Admin Sar & Admin San

[loverboytrashmouth]

Wish You Were Sober

pairing; Reddie

word count; 4k

summary; Eddie is tired of Richie flirting like a madman whenever he gets alcohol in his system.

a/n; so i decided i’m making a kind of series of reddie fics i write based on songs, bc i’m the type of bitch that listens to any music or intakes any kind of media and thinks “iMagiNe tHiS bUt rEdDiE<333″ so ya there’s that lol. here’s a lil angsty one shot based on wish you were sober by conan gray, aka a superior song if u ask me. as always, read on ao3 here if you’d like and enjoy ! :)

Nirvana blared through the speakers and traveled throughout the too small apartment owned by some random guy in one of Richie’s classes. Richie didn’t know him too well - he thinks his name is Chris? Collin? Something with a ‘C’ - but, hey, a party’s a party, and free booze is free booze.

The trashmouth was chatting loudly over the music with Bill on a dingy leather couch, waiting for Stan and Eddie to return with more drinks. Richie was already significantly further along than his friends in terms of his drunken state, all obnoxious laughs interrupted by hiccups and long, gangly limbs flailing more wildly than usual. It almost should be concerning to the other Losers, having only been at the party for less than a couple hours and their friend already being long gone, but it was what they were used to. Since they were 15 and stealing liquor from their parents, the Losers constantly saw Richie’s “go big or go home” attitude with drinking. They assumed it was just Richie wanting to be the life of the party and center of attention, whether that meant going shot for shot with Mike, accepting any type of drinking related dare from Beverly, etc.

Richie let them believe this, because it was better than telling them the truth. It was easier than admitting to them that around the same time he started sneaking a copious amount of vodka from the Tozier’s alcohol stash, he was also realizing certain feelings he had for a certain Loser.

Richie Tozier loved Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie was sure it was just one of those basic laws of the universe, one that’s impossible to ignore and inevitable to come to pass. Despite this, living in a small town like Derry meant getting the shit kicked out of you if you even look at another guy for too long, soulmates or inescapable love or whatever be damned. Richie had gotten beatdowns left and right from neighborhood bullies for being a “faggot” before he even knew what the word meant, so he, unfortunately, knew this from personal experience.

But now, sitting in an apartment in Manhattan of all places, attending NYU with three out of six of his best friends, away from those assholes in Derry, Richie thought he’d loosen up. Let himself be brave.

He soon learned that was easier said than done; who knew what 19 years of internalized homophobia could do to a man?

It’s not like he was afraid of being more of an outcast; he was already a loser with a capital “L,” and he, along with the rest of his friends, carried the title like it was given to them by the Queen herself. Deep down Richie knew the rest of the Losers wouldn’t even bat an eye at the fact that he liked dudes the way he should have liked girls, so he wasn’t afraid of losing them either. And deep, deep down, Richie also knew there wasn’t really anything wrong with him. Why would he feel such a way if it was supposed to be such an unnatural and vile thing? He couldn’t help who he was, who or how he loved, and God, he loved Eddie so much he thought he could just burst with it sometimes.

That shred of acceptance, though, was buried so deep in his lanky form, and the only way to reach it was through a ridiculous amount of shots. Or beers. Or just about anything with a decent alcohol content, really. He’d even settle with wine if he had to.

When Richie was drunk, he was able to be more clingy and face less consequences. He was already an affectionate guy, constantly pinching Eddie’s cheeks and throwing a lazy arm around the shorter man’s shoulders whenever he could. With alcohol, though, he’d give sloppy cheek kisses and intertwine his fingers with Eddie’s and allow his face to form a subtle blush when an intoxicated Eddie would lean into it.

“Sorry for being all over ya last night, Eds. You know how gross and clingy I can get,” he’d say the following morning, and then they’d fall back into their rhythm of bickering and ‘your mom’ jokes. Business as usual, like clockwork every time they’d get wasted.

Richie thought it was going well, that his feelings were going totally unnoticed, that he was stealth. Until this particular college party, that is.

Richie’s attention left his conversation with Bill about the newest Die Hard film when he felt the couch sink next to him, turning to meet eyes with a mildly tipsy Eddie. The taller man’s face immediately lit up, a goofy smile spreading across his chapped lips.

“Hiya, Spagheds! What’s cookin, good lookin’?” Richie slurred out, his arm finding its way around Eddie’s waist and using his other hand to snatch the mixed drink his friend was holding out for him. Eddie responded with his usual scoff and eyeroll, but Richie noted an extra bite to it that he wasn’t used to getting from him.

“Don’t call me that, asshole! And haven’t you ever heard of personal space?” Eddie grumbled, wiggling himself out of Richie’s side embrace and putting some distance between the two. The arm that was once around Eddie made its way to Richie’s own body as he dramatically grasped at his chest.

“Eddie, baby, you’ve wounded me! Since when do you pass up some signature Tozier cuddles?” Richie was met with a simple huff in response as Eddie avoided his gaze. Richie’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion at the lack of attention he was receiving from the man who would usually be giving him the most attention, but he was overall too drunk to overthink. With a shrug, Richie downed his freshly made drink in record timing before crunching the plastic cup in his hand and tossing it over his shoulder, causing Eddie to scoff again from next to him. Stan spoke up from beside Bill before Eddie could ream his friend about his lack of care for tidiness.

“Maybe you should start on some water, huh, Rich?” Richie gasped dramatically, turning to look at Stan as if he had just told him pigs fly.

“Staniel, did you just ask moi to drink water? What’s the point of free booze if you’re not gonna take advantage?” He asked incredulously before standing, wobbling on his long limbs for a couple seconds and giggling a bit before regaining his balance. “Speaking of, I’m gonna go see if my boy Chris has any good brewskis lyin’ around.”

“Isn’t his name C-C-Connor?” Bill asked, shaking his head in amusement. He seemed to be the only one enjoying the trashmouth’s antics this evening, as Stan’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern which he tried to pass off as annoyance, and Eddie still kept his gaze elsewhere. It was the latter that made Richie itch for another drink.

“Whatever the fuck, Billiam. I’ll be back in a jiff, my loves! Try not to miss me too much!” Richie exclaimed with a bow, breaking out his British accent for his next sentence. “But if I find m’lady Mary Jane, don’t wait up, lads! Pip pip!”

Before Richie could step five feet from the couch, an aggressive hand was yanking him back by the wrist. Losing his footing due to the intrusion, Richie stumbled once more, nearly toppling onto Eddie. The shorter man’s tight grip on his arm was the only thing that kept him from sending them both back onto the scratchy leather of the couch below. Richie beamed at the attention he was finally receiving, despite the glare Eddie was boring deep into his features.

“Sit the fuck down, Richard. You’re not drinking anymore fucking beer and you’re definitely not smoking anything. You’re drinking some water and I’m taking you the fuck back to your room, asswipe,” Eddie said sternly, getting as close as he could to Richie’s face with the height difference between them. Richie couldn’t help but love when Eddie got like this; sure, he was red in the face more with anger than with the alcohol, but the anger was backed by mountains of concern. It reminded Richie how much his love cared about him, even though he was sure their forms of love differed. There was still some kind of love there, and sometimes, that was enough for him.

Although Richie felt his chest swell and he wanted nothing more than to ease Eddie’s anger and please him, his mouth rambled before his brain could tell it what to say, as usual.

“If you wanted to get me alone, Eds, all ya had to do was ask,” Richie slurred with a wink, slowly bringing his hand up Eddie’s arm, his calloused fingertips slightly teasing the warm skin. Eddie’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red, from anger or something else, no one was sure - until Richie’s hand was being swatted away, the smack of it loud enough for Bill and Stan to hear over the music from their spot on the couch. Richie mumbled a curse under his breath as he rubbed the skin Eddie came in contact with, a sting lingering there. He opened his mouth to speak again, some kind of excuse or apology on the tip of his tongue, but never got it out due to Eddie’s voice cutting him off.

“Stop doing this, Richie! Just stop! I’m tired of it!” Eddie's voice was slowly rising, and the tremble that laced within his words acted as some kind of magical potion; suddenly Richie had never been so sober. 

“Hey, Eddie, it’s okay. I’m sorry, whatever I did I’m sor-” The apology was interrupted with another signature scoff as Eddie looked at the ground, shaking his head, breathing out a humorless chuckle.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing,” he said with a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking Richie in his eyes once again. Despite the apartment being dark with the exception of a couple of lamps scattered around the area, Richie could see the glistening threat of tears waiting to spill from the doe eyes he loved so much. His heart ached.

“Of course you don’t know what you’re doing, Rich, because you’re too fucking drunk! You’re always too drunk. I just… I just wish you were sober for fucking once!” Eddie practically screamed, before his voice softened with hurt again. “I just wish you’d act like this with me without fucking booze.” There were a couple beats of silence between them, two pairs of dark eyes swimming with gallons of emotions simply blinking at one another, the only noise coming from Eddie’s sniffling. Richie did all in his power to search for a response, but for once in his life, the trashmouth was at a loss for words. After what felt like forever, Eddie finally ended the moment by turning on his heel and making a beeline for the door, leaving Richie to stand in dumbfounded silence while his intoxicated brain processed the scene that just unfolded. His thought process was interrupted by a voice coming from the couch.

“Wha-what just happened?” Bill asked, his amusement from earlier in the night completely dissipated and replaced with a mix of confusion and concern.

“Richie’s oblivious and a dumbass is what just happened. Nothing new,” Stan deadpanned from next to him. Richie snapped his body towards the pair, making his head spin and reminding him of just how drunk he was. He blinked at the two in an attempt to adjust his sight before raising his hands in defense at Stan’s comment.

“What are you talking about? Do you know what that was about?” Richie asked, pointing towards the direction Eddie stormed off in. Stan rolled his eyes before standing up and grabbing Richie by the shoulders with both hands, giving him a serious look.

“When we went to get drinks, Eddie talked to me. About you. About how you act when you’re drunk, all over him and shit, more than usual. And how much he likes it, but he hates that he likes it, because you only do it when you’re drunk.” Richie continued to gape at his friend, clearly not connecting what Stan’s words meant. Stan sighed, scrunching his face in annoyance and gripping Richie’s shoulders tighter. “He’s in love with you, asshole! Either tell him you love him too, because trust me, everyone except him knows you do, or stop leading him on. It’s fucking ruining him, man!”

Realization finally hit Richie, his eyes welling with tears as Stan’s grip on his shoulders softened. “He- He is? Are you sure? This- This isn’t funny, Stanley. A-Are you sure?” he breathed out, and if it wasn’t for the weight of the situation, he’d made a joke about how he was sounding like Bill, nervous stutter and all. Stan gave a slight nod and responded, but Richie didn’t hear what he said. His mind was suddenly racing; find Eddie. tell Eddie. kiss Eddie. EddieEddieEddie.

Before he knew it his feet were running just as fast as his thoughts, not 100% sure where he was going, just knowing he needed to find Eddie. Richie raced out of the apartment building into the chilly air that was New York City on a late November night, frantically scanning the streets. His eyes soon locked on a figure about half a block down, leaning against a mailbox, head in his hands. Even with the distance between them, Richie could tell he was trembling, either from the cold or from crying, he wasn’t sure. As he felt the sharp breeze across his skin exposed by the rips in his jeans, he assumed probably both.

Richie thought better than to call out his name, opting instead to slowly approach Eddie. He did his best to labor his breathing in his short walk over, mentally preparing himself for the confrontation that was about to take place. The confrontation that would bear all feelings, all confessions. All of the walls Richie had been building around himself since high school would finally come down.

He wished he had another drink.

“Eds?” He spoke softly, possibly the softest he’d ever spoken, as to not scare Eddie and send him running. The shorter man lifted his head from his hands, and Richie’s heart broke even more at the sight before him. Eddie’s eyes were red and puffy, a wall of hurt extremely evident in the soft brown. His nose was runny, and his lip quivered as he looked away when he realized who was standing in front of him.

“Don’t call me that,” he practically whispered, just loud enough for the other to catch it over the bustle of traffic in the streets surrounding them. Although he was avoiding the other man’s gaze like his life depended on it, Eddie made no attempt to walk away. Richie took that as a small win.

“Eddie, talk to me. Please. What’s up? It’s just me and you, man. C’mon.” Richie wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch Eddie. Offer a comforting hand on his shoulder, run his fingers through his hair, hold him close, tell him everything would be okay. But he didn’t dare move.

A car honked down the street, offering the only noise that cut through the thick silence when Eddie didn’t take Richie’s offer to speak. The former stayed silent with his head down, finding the dirty concrete under his pristine white converse highly interesting. Richie let out a sigh.

“Okay, you don’t have to talk. I’ll do all the talking. I’m the Trashmouth after all, aren’t I?” Richie offered a lame chuckle when his attempt at a joke fell flat, Eddie not breaking his frown even slightly. Richie cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. “Look, I talked to Stan, he told me what you guys talked about, and -” He was cut off by the same humorless chuckle he heard in the apartment minutes ago, but this time it dripped with sadness rather than anger.

“Dammit, Stanley, you fucking traitor,” Eddie mumbled mostly to himself. He shook his head with a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, making them impossibly redder, before willing himself to look at Richie, his voice finally reaching above a murmur for the first time since leaving the party. “Secret’s out, I guess. I’m a fucking cliche. The fuckin’ queer that fell for his best friend.”

All Richie could do was silently stare, mouth slightly agape and eyes comically blown, amplified more so by his glasses. Sure, Stan had told him this not even five minutes beforehand, but hearing it from Eddie himself was an entirely different experience. He figured under different circumstances, Eddie would probably be laughing at how dumb he was sure he looked. Instead, the shorter man looked at him expectantly with tears still in his eyes, clearly waiting for some kind of response, and expecting the worst. They stood this way, basically a mirroring of what played out in the party upstairs before Eddie stormed out, for a solid minute before it was - once again - Eddie who broke the silence.

“So much for doing all the talking,” he muttered, the volume of his voice lowering, Richie realizing as Eddie looked back at the ground that he was closing in on himself once again. “Good night, Rich.”

“No,” Richie finally spoke, his arm darting out to grab Eddie’s hand before he could even adjust his feet to leave. “Please don’t walk away again. Please.” His voice broke on the last plea, his own eyes finally beginning to water. Eddie was still staring in the opposite direction down the concrete path he was planning on following before he was interrupted, but was staying put, not rejecting Richie’s hand in his. “There’s so much I wanna say to you, Eddie. So much. I just… Shit, I just don’t know how.”

Richie was crying just as much as Eddie was at this point but quieter, unable to pull himself together as much as he wanted to be brave. Eddie turned his head to face Richie with his glare still hardened, only softening when he saw the state Richie was in. Eddie had known Richie since they were literal children, and he knew better than anyone that Richie Tozier didn’t cry like this. Not unless something was truly eating at him. The anger Eddie felt towards the situation seemed to have completely disappeared as he comfortably squeezed Richie’s hand, giving him encouraging eyes.

The taller man used his free hand to rub the tears from his eyes, giving him a better look at Eddie. They were standing fairly close to the lone street light of the block, the faint orange tint of the bulb complimenting Eddie’s lightly tanned skin and chestnut eyes. Without thinking, Richie brought his hand up to Eddie’s face, cupping his cheek and wiping a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb. He continued softly rubbing at the skin there after the tear was gone, his thumb dancing across the freckles, his mind flooded with thoughts of how beautiful the man before him was. Eddie closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in the feel of Richie’s touch.

Unable to find words again but refusing to let the moment slip out of his fingers for the third time of the night, Richie did the only thing he truly knew how to do; he acted impulsively.

If asked, Richie wouldn’t be able to pinpoint exactly when he decided to kiss the man he’d loved since he was 15 in the middle of Greenwich Village at one in the morning. Before he knew it, the hand on Eddie’s cheek slid down to his neck, pulling their lips together before the shorter man could react to the shift in Richie’s hold on him. As much as he didn’t want to admit the fact, Richie knew he wouldn’t have taken such action if it weren’t for the alcohol flowing through his veins, but at this point he didn’t much care. When their lips met, he forgot all about the booze, and became drunk on Eddie.

Eddie kissed back without hesitation, letting go of Richie’s hand and easily snaking his arms around his neck, with a comfortability as if they had done this thousands of times. It was sloppy due to the pair’s mixed tears along with their lack of experience, but nevertheless the two men kissed with purpose, as if the fate of their livelihood depended on this moment. Perhaps it did.

By the time they pulled away and rested their foreheads together, Eddie’s fingers had found themselves tangled in Richie’s dark curls, and Richie’s hands were gripping Eddie’s hips for dear life. The kiss hadn’t lasted too long - thirty seconds or so, if that - however the energy both men poured into those short seconds left them panting heavily, their breath tangling together, hot in the other’s face in the midst of the cold air around them.

“That was better than talking,” Richie breathed out with a wet chuckle, causing Eddie to finally crack his first smile of the night. It was a small one, the corners of his mouth curving only lightly, but Richie saw that his happiness had made its way into his stare.

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie whispered with no real bite in his words before bringing their lips together again, this kiss softer than the last. While their first kiss was filled with the passion built up from years of mutual pining and secrets, their second let them convey the deepness of their love without words to speak. A tender peck of their lips told Richie everything he needed to know; this moment was very much real, and Eddie Kaspbrak very much loved Richie Tozier.

And if the kiss wasn’t enough, Eddie made sure to tell him when he pulled out of the kiss and rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder, pulling him into a proper embrace.

“I love you, Rich. I- I think I always have,” he confessed, his voice slightly muffled from where his face was buried in Richie’s neck, but the other man heard him loud and clear all the same. Richie released his grip on Eddie’s hips and wrapped his arms around him, letting himself breathe out a sigh of relief as he held him impossibly closer.

“I love you too, Eds. So fucking much, fuck.” Richie pressed a kiss to soft brown waves, breathing in the clean scent of lavender shampoo mixed with light cologne, his senses filling with just Eddie.

Standing in the middle of a bustling city they barely knew in the wee hours of a Sunday morning, arms wrapped tightly around one another, ignoring the strangers that walked past them most definitely giving them some variation of judgemental stares, Eddie and Richie had never felt more at home.

“Alright, Trashmouth,” Eddie started, reluctantly pulling away from Richie’s hold. Richie pouted at the loss of feeling Eddie’s body pressed against his own, making the latter chuckle and playfully roll his eyes. He pressed a quick peck to said trashmouth before continuing. “We can talk about this more in the morning. Right now, you need water and sleep.” Richie slapped a toothy grin onto his chapped lips after, once again, being reminded of how intoxicated he still was, falling back into his goofy demeanor with ease.

“Ya gonna take care of me, Dr. K? Ugh, what a dreamboat,” he replied, miming a cartoonish faint. Eddie simply giggled and grasped Richie’s hand once again, interlacing their fingers and leading him in the direction of their dorms. Richie fell back ever so slightly as to not get caught looking at Eddie like the lovesick dork he was, feeling a warmth grow in his body he was sure wasn’t due to the alcohol.

Richie still drinks after this night; old habits die hard, of course. However, Richie didn’t have to be drunk anymore to admit he loved Eddie. He told him sober and drunk, day and night, and vowed to remind Eddie just how much he loved him until the day they died.

[gallickingun]

ding, dong, the witch is dead!

honestly, who didn’t see this coming? lol. but, anyway. i guess this is goodbye! i’ll ramble more below the cut, but just know that over the next couple of days, i’ll be exporting my blog so i can keep what i want, and then this will be the only post left here.

thank you to everyone who i’ve had the privilege of meeting, and those of you who have been so kind as to leave lovely notes on my works, and interact with me over our silly anime crushes. i really appreciate all the kindness i’ve been shown in the anime fandom. some of my best friends i’ve met through this stupid app, but overall, it’s just not a healthy space for me. i’m not blaming anyone else for what this has become, at the end of the day, i created a hell for myself. i’m just tired of trying to rebuild, rebrand, whatever. i’m just tired.

that being said, obviously not everything can always be so lovely. i don’t care about the discourse or the drama or the whatever, but i’m just hoping this post will bring me some closure, and maybe some for those i’ve hurt, whether accidentally or intentionally. if you click read more and you’re upset with what you see, well, idk what to tell you, friend.

i hate that tumblr can be so insignificant, and yet so all encompassing all at once. yes, it’s “just tumblr” and “it’s not that deep” because at the end of the day, it’s just an app. but, unfortunately, behind this app and these blogs are human beings. which means you create real bonds and real friendships, and real feelings get hurt.

i came back to tumblr during a really sad, dark time in my life. and that was honestly my first mistake. i latched on to whoever would pay attention to me, craving some sort of friendship that i never needed before because i always had someone in real life. but i had just moved away from my family, and was starting the process of what would end up being a notsogreat divorce. i felt alone, and was struggling a lot with my self worth, so instead of choosing to be kind, i chose to lash out. regardless of whether or not that was in private dm’s of those whom, at the time, i’d considered friends, it was still inconsiderate and childish of me. i thought i had to be some hateful version of myself in order to prove to other people that i wasn’t as sad about myself as i truly was. the words i said in private were rude, nasty, and just... not who i want to be? and, without going into immense detail, some of those things i wanted to move on from and no longer felt, were then used as weapons and spread around to others who i never intended to see what i’d said.

please, please, PLEASE — be careful what you say. you really never know who is watching, who is going to manipulate you, etc. what you say holds weight, and even if you don’t intend for it to hurt anyone, even if it’s just venting.. i dunno. just, be careful, okay? check yourself from time to time, friend. make sure that you’re not allowing the overall negativity of the world, of your own mind, of others, to affect you to the point that you don’t recognize yourself.

if you don’t know about my lovely little exposed blog, well, you’d probably be the last to know. at least, it feels that way. although in the beginning maybe it was justified? in some right? i’m not sure anymore, really, but regardless—it turned into some sort of stalking experience. at one point in time, i received 35+ messages telling me how horrible i was, telling me to off myself, telling me that my ex did the right thing by leaving me “on the curb”, etc. my full legal name was being released, with the intent to doxx me i’m assuming? i was being told i was “being watched”, which i fully believe was happening, with the consistency of the updates. people who claim to hate me, still followed me with the intent of watching my every move to “see if i’d changed”. i only have received updates through friends, because to be perfectly honest with you, seeing your worst mistakes splayed on the internet and turning you into some shounen villain is NOT the best thing for your mental health. that, and some of the “truths” were half-honesties twisted because i’d be a hypocrite to post private dm’s debunking these things when i was upset with the very same people for posting such things. i’ve addressed some things, such as the racism, so i won’t go into that again, but some of these other instances are stretches, to say the least.

the irony of the whole thing is not lost on me. the very same people who say i only do things for notes/recognition, are doing those very things. those who say i only care about tumblr, are proving that by running a blog dedicated to exposing some twenty three year old idiot on the internet. those who say i use my friends are the same ones who literally lied to my face so they could collect receipts behind my back and then leave me when it got convenient. those who say i talk to “insignificant” blogs to appear invested are the ones calling those blogs insignificant, i never once believed anyone i’ve interacted with was insignificant, contrary to popular belief. everything they focus on ends up being nothing but hypocrisy in the end.

that being said, obviously i truly hurt whoever all is behind this blog. intentionally, or otherwise. and i know that sometimes what you do/say isn’t meant to hurt anyone, however, you don’t get to control how what you’ve done effects others. all you can do is apologize. but, i know a few of them, because based on the “receipts” they’ve pulled together, the stories are too specific to be anything but those people i’m thinking of. i don’t enjoy blanket apologies, but i’m leaving this hellsite, so it’s all i’ve got left.

i’m sorry for giving you the fuel to your fire for this petty agenda, i’m sorry for creating the monster of myself that allowed you to string along this storyline for what seems to be the better part of a year. i’m sorry that i gave you material to fixate upon, rather than providing you with friendship and something better to focus on. i truly hope you can move on now that i’m gone from tumblr, and honestly i don’t plan on coming back, lol. i genuinely, truly, deeply feel sorry for you, and pray that you can turn this obsessive focus from me to something more productive, something healthier.

the angry part of me wants everyone to realize that the start of this, the matchups/refunds situation, was born from this stalkerish behavior. it has taken me months to put the pieces together, because i truly didn’t think someone who i’d called my friend once would ever string together such a lie, or rather an exaggerated, adulterated truth, but i guess it’s what happened, in the end.

there are a lot of, uh, conveniently timed “releases” of receipts even though they were months after the initial occurrence of the offense. i can’t go into each one, because, frankly, there are too many. i just hope that in the wake of all of these horrible exposes of things i’ve done, others are able to reflect on their actions. telling me one thing while currently speaking to another individual and telling them another, blatantly LYING, etc. are all things that i’ve been accused of, and yet they’ve also been done to me. doesn’t justify what i’ve done, nor am i seeking some sort of absolution, however i just hope that these individuals can see their hypocrisy and move forward.

which leads me to my final point — regardless of how shitty someone is, disallowing them the room to grow, stunting their moral/mental growth, is truly the issue. i am not going to sit here and play holier than thou. i know i fucked up. i was a nasty bitch because i was angry at the world, and then that anger was fueled further by consistent situations where i made the wrong friends at the wrong times in my life. but the fact that this exposed nonsense has been dragging on since... july? august? i’m not really sure, but whatever. since it’s been going on, i have been battling with myself and my ability to do the things i love, talk to those i care about, etc. all because i’m afraid of saying the wrong thing, hurting the wrong person, etc. and in trying to avoid it, i’ve been doing the very same thing i hoped to keep from doing.

i never felt like i could apologize to those i wanted to apologize to because it might be received as disingenuous due to the nature of the exposed blog’s very existence “forcing” me to apologize. don’t get me wrong, some of those who the blog tried to coerce me into apologizing to can suck a dick, because there are people that i truly do not feel deserve my apologies, and therefore, will never get them. but, i do feel bad for those i didn’t get the chance to apologize to that i really wanted to. the last thing i’d want is for my apology to be turned into something it’s not, but hopefully everyone who has been affected by my actions can move on with my absence.

and to those of you who feel the need to make public denounces of my name, i hope it provides you the closure you’ve been seeking. truly, i do. but know that i never did anything i’ve ever done with the intent to get ahead or buy someone’s friendship or take advantage of anyone else. if i truly only cared about the things people say i cared about, i would have never made this blog in the first place. i would have leeched off the popularity of my main blog if popularity was all i cared about. i was searching for a home, which, in the end, i burned down myself. me, joking around about follower count and notes, was literally nothing but sarcastic banter that’s been taken out of context. but, i digress.

i am very thankful for those who i can still call my friends, who are willing and ready to have honest discussions with me about the things i’ve said/done and analyze them and help me move forward. therapy, medication, life choices, etc. all have been rolled into me deciding that i’m done letting a silly little app stunt my growth. if the internet was unplugged tomorrow, i know who i’d have and what would matter. i have REAL LIFE to focus on. i am in love and i have beautiful friendships that i want to foster with honesty and kindness. i can only hope that you all have the opportunity to have those very same things.

will i stop writing? nah, dude. no way. i’m just getting started. in my absence, in choosing to stay away from a place that makes me sick to my stomach with anxiety, i’ve delved into my original characters and i’ve written thousands of words that i haven’t felt the pressure to post about. i’ve learned that just because i’m doing something i love, i don’t have to do it for anyone else.

the internet is a funky place, folks. just be careful who your friends are, okay?

anyway. peace out, girl scouts. i wish you all the best 💖

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

I absolutely LOVE how you write angst, I'm always looking forward to a bit of hurt lol How'd the guys(romanced) react to being hit by the berserk syringe and start attacking Sole but come back to their senses right before actually killing Sole!?

i can’t imagine any of my boys hurting sole. this is such a unique scenario and i’m absolutely here for it! i’m not proud of this but please enjoy! <3

*i’ll edit this in the morning cause a bitch is tired.

[ tw: depression/violence/blood/injuries!!! ]

-

never in a million years did they expect the only person they’ve ever trusted to be the reason for their death. well, not the main reason, as the berserk syringe was the cause, but the fact that they were the reason why sole had been helpless on the floor only added on. they towered over sole, who laid in their puddle of blood, gasping in immense pain as they tried to use the last of their strength to plead. sole let out soft sobs, watching as their other half pointed the pistol at their head with no sense of remorse. this wasnt the way they expected to go, not by the hands of the only person they found love in.

“st..op..” they cried, trying to find the power to reach out to him. all the memories flashed through their mind; memories of their life before the bombs dropped, the moments they spent in the wasteland, and the day they fatefully encountered one another. they refused to die this way. sole mewled out his name, begging for him to stop. and just like that, they hesitated and regained consciousness, taking a moment to ground themselves into the situation and realize the horror of it.

-

Danse:

this was everything he’s ever feared since sole had landed into his life. he had dreams - not many - but definitely a fair amount of his loved one dying in his arms and he feared it may have been an omen wading in the darkness waiting to come to life - and it did, just not in the way he visualized. the sight of sole bleeding out in front of him brought him to a whole new level of fear. “sole?” he choked out in disbelief, unable to move. it’d take him a minute to piece everything together as his eyes darted from the weapon in his hand, to his surroundings, then the syringe... and it hit him. “shit!” he cursed, making his way to sole hurriedly and carried them off the ground, running towards goodneighbor. he had no time to talk, to cry, nor to feel sorry for himself. sole could be seconds away from dying and it’d be the last damn thing he’ll let happen. once someone had taken sole into their care, he would absolutely refuse to leave the building without knowing their status.

danse would sit in the chair or stand impatiently for hours on end, all thoughts of doing basic human necessities, such as eating and sleeping, completely slipping his mind. the minute he was given the chance to see sole, he did nothing but that and finally let the tears spill into the palms of his hands as he sat near soles bedside. sole would take him into their arms, kissing his hair gently as they caressed his head. “it wasn’t your fault,” they repeated constantly as reassurance, “none of it was.” despite soles words, he’d continuously blame it on himself for not being more attentive and have constant nightmares about what had happened, often finding himself in tears as he jolted awake. he’d explain to sole how he didn’t deserve them and how he was afraid it might just happen out of the blue again. it would take a long while for danse to get over his actions and a lot of reassurance from sole, who was more than glad to help him through these rough times.

Deacon:

deacon had panicked many times in various situations; you name it, it’s probably happened. but this? this was a different type of panic. one that he couldn’t avoid no matter how much he tried, regardless of how many lies and jokes he told himself. he darted to sole, taking them into his arms in a panicked manner as his breathing began to release in irregular patterns. “i didn’t do this, right?” he tried to push everything away, run from the truth that obviously surrounded the two, “sole, you know i’d never hurt you, right?” his voice trembled, hands shaking as he tried to move the hair out of their face. his stained hands and clothing told him nothing but the truth- he was responsible for what happened and there was nothing he could do. when sole let out a small, “i know,” and proceeded to look up at him with a tired expression, he broke down and held them close to his body, burying his face into their neck. “i’m sorry,” he sobbed, “i’m so fucking sorry.”

once sole had made it back to hq, he practically begged carrington to do everything in his power to help them survive. it took multiple people to hold deacon back as he fought against them, not wanting to leave soles side as they were taken away to a separate room. once carrington had given him the go to visit sole, he found himself rushing to the room, nearly ripping the door open. without another word, he latched onto them, letting everything he’s ever wanted to say to them spill out within seconds. how much he loved them, how they had changed his life, and things he wouldn’t normally say on a daily basis. sole would notice how he’d become excessively clingy right after that fateful moment and notice his attempts to cheer them up through jokes or little things he did for them throughout the day. during nightfall, he’d hold them in his arms, muttering apologies to them as tears spilled from his eyes. he didn’t know if he could forgive himself.. at least not for a while.

Maccready:

he choked on his own breath, throwing the gun to the side as far as possible. memories of lucy began flooding his mind and the thought of him being alone once more with additional blood on his hands only heightened his panic. with a loud sob, he dropped to his knees and brought sole to his arms, shakily caressing their cheek. “sole, sole. hon, look at me,” he choked through his tears, trying to keep them awake. he stroked their cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort them through the pain with words, touches, anything. “don’t close your eyes. please don’t leave me.” despite the condition they were in, they opened their eyes obediently, staring up weakly at mac who continued to sob. his tears fell off his face and right onto soles cheek, washing away any blood that trailed down. “we’re gonna get you help and you’re gonna get better. you’re gonna come home with me, duncan, and shaun, okay?” his hand moved down to lock with theirs as he gave it a reassuring squeeze, “they’re waiting for us at home, remember?” sole began to tear up, intertwining fingers with mac, “tell them i love them, please.” something triggered in mac and he shook his head, lifting them from the ground and finding his way to the closest town he could find, yelling at anyone for help.

after their wounds had been treated properly, the doctor had led him to the room where he saw his other half lay in bed, all patched up and taken care of. “they will be okay. i advise letting them rest for a while and try to stray away from any physical activity until they show signs of improvement.” the man noticed how mac stared at them with tears in his eyes and he coughed, “i’ll give you a moment, sir.” the sound of the door closing behind him would ease the tension he had in his shoulders and he would lean down, pressing a kiss on soles forehead as they slept.“you hear that, hon? you’re gonna be okay.” as soon as sole made it back home with him, he’d do everything he can to ensure that sole would recover properly. mac would do all the dirty work sole usually did and checked up on them as much possible, visibly worrying to death about them. at night, he’d have a hard time sleeping with the guilt weighing on his shoulders but soles words and affection were more than enough to ease his worries.

Hancock:

to say he hated himself at that very moment was a huge understatement, this being the cherry on top of everything on his list. he knew he’d fuck it up someday, but he never expected himself to go this far. even knowing that it wasn’t his fault and the syringe was the reason why he started attacking, it didn’t change the fact that it was done by his hands. he dropped and tended to soles injuries as much as he could before taking them back to goodneighbor. hancock used everything sole possessed- stimpacks, med x, etc while whispering reassuring things to them, knowing that blaming himself won’t do anything good. when sole weakly grabs his wrist and stares at him with fear and shock, he feels all his intentions of being calm sink to the ground. “am i gonna die?” oh god. never once in their time spent together has he ever heard them say something so heartbreaking. even in the craziest situations, they would always remain hopeful. hancock dropped whatever he held and scrambled to take them into his arms, attempting to soothe their mind. “you’re not gonna die. i’m not gonna let that happen.” he reassured, “there’s no fucking way in hell i’m gonna lose you.” hancock entering goodneighbor with sole in his arms would automatically send a message to the rest of the town and they’d begin readying the medical rooms and collecting all the medical supplies that were available for dr. amaris use.

sole had been discharged eventually into hancock’s care and he’d dote on them 24/7, ensuring that all their needs were met and would go above and beyond with everything they requested. while sole slept, he’d release his anger and bottled up thoughts by taking chems or going out to shoot things to release some emotions. whenever they were awake, he’d trace the wounds with his fingers gently and kiss their skin, apologizing about his actions endlessly. “it fucking hurts to know i did this.” he mutters, “i’m the one who’s supposed to be protecting you, not fucking doing the opposite.” sole would take his hand and brush their lips over his knuckles, “you’ve always protected me, none of this was on you,” hancock watched them with soft eyes, “we’ll get through this together, alright?” the mayor would nod, sending them a sad smile, “alright.”

Nick Valentine:

one of the many who refuses to say anything, but reacts quickly in response. he has no time for mourning or apologies right now and his main priority is to get sole help, even if it means kicking someone’s door down, then so fucking be it. he immediately wraps his coat around sole and carries them to the direction of diamond city, which was thankfully nearby. he whispered things he hoped they could hear despite their unresponsiveness, and silently begged that they’d be okay. when the doctor attempted to take sole into the emergency room, they had grabbed his wrist firmly, catching nicks full attention within seconds. “n-nick, don’t leave.” they pleaded weakly, tearing up when he looked down at them with grief and concern. nick rested a hand on their cheek, placing a soft kiss on their forehead. “sweetheart, i’m never gonna leave you. once you wake up, i’ll be here. i’ll always be here.” he whispered.

“promise?” sole whimpered, their hand still wrapped around nicks wrist. “i swear on it.” he looked up at doctor sun, who was assessing the injuries quietly, “we must act fast.” nick gave him a nod of approval, slowly feeling soles fingers slip away from his touch. as nick promised, he was there the minute sole had opened their eyes. he cupped their cheeks, leaning his forehead on theirs as he let out a shaky breath. “i’m so, so sorry.” they’d shake their head and remind him that it wasn’t his choice nor did they expect it to happen. nick decided to trust their words and though it did tend to lurk in the back of his mind often, he pushed it away as much as he could. he’d definitely become more cautious the next time they would hit the road and sole would notice that his paranoia reached to a whole new level.

Preston:

this seemed too familiar. the sight of his hands full of soles blood brought him back to when quincy was attacked by the gunners. it reminded him of how much people he couldn’t save back home and it surfaced emotions he yearned to forget, only this time.. it was way worse. “no, no, no.” he weeped, taking sole into his arms, “please, please tell me it’s a bad dream.” they had never seen preston so devastated in his life as loud sobs escaped his lips. sole weakly wrapped their fingers around prestons forearm, staring up at him through half lidded eyes. “it’s okay, preston.” their voice was strained and the color draining from their face only made his cries louder. “no, it’s not okay! i can’t lose you,” he said, “i lost everything in my life. i cant lose you sole, anything but you.” and without another word, he’d hold them in his arms as he ran to get help.

he wasn’t about to repeat the events that occurred at quincy and sole wasn’t gonna be another person he couldn’t save because of his careless actions. sole was the last person he wants to let go and there’s nothing that will stop him from ensuring their safety. he would fall back into his depression during soles recovery, knowing he was responsible for what happened to them and would find it absolutely difficult to ever forgive himself. even with sole reassuring him constantly that it was okay, he’d still deny it and cry as sole held him in their arms. just like deacon and danse, it would take nearly forever for preston to let go of what happened and it would eat him up inside and out every second of the day. it would take a lot of reassurance and self trust for him to understand that there was nothing they could’ve done.

Sturges:

he’s absolutely paralyzed, the gun falling out of his fingers unconsciously as he gazed at sole who desperately called out his name. sturges stared at his hands that were painted with that gut churning red and felt himself grow dizzy, hearing nothing but static fill his ears. he was so used to seeing that black/brown fluid paint his gloves that this contrast of red and black made him feel sick. this is why he didn’t step outside the comfort of his home and why he utterly refuses to hold a weapon. soles voice would break his train of thought and he’d immediately rush over to them, realizing that sole was on an unknown time limit. seeing their face so pale and lifeless scared the absolute shit out of him, and knew that there was nothing he could do at that moment to ease their pain. sturges grabbed their bag, searching for anything and everything that could possibly help them, eventually bringing out a stimpack and jammed it into their arm. when sole let out a pained whimper, he turned to face them and held their hand gently, his voice shaky as he spoke, “i’m here, sweetheart. i ain’t going no where.” he continued searching their bag and his eyes fell on the flare that was given to them when they had gotten recruited. that’s right, sanctuary wasn’t very far off from where they were, somebody was bound to see it one way or the other. quickly, he loaded it up and pointed it upwards, pulling the trigger.

once the bright flash appeared in the sky, he crawled over to sole and propped their head on his lap as he held them close. “helps comin’, sweetheart.” he whispered into their hair, “just hold on.” after those events he conspired and sole was given proper treatment and care, he’d be unable to focus on his tasks, his mind retreating back to those horrid memories he yearned to forget. he’d become more quiet and more inconsistent with his duties as the thoughts began to stick with him more. even the sight of a weapon would trigger him, immediately paralyzing sturges as the memories began flooding back. eventually, sole would have to confront him about what had happened to truly ease his mind off the tragedy, giving him some sense of comfort that whatever had happened was out of his control.

Gage:

one moment, he was shooting down gunners left and right and now, he was on his two feet, about to do the same with the only person who’s ever given a fuck about him. he should’ve killed the fucking bastard who shot that syringe at him- gut him clean with his knife and hang him up for display. none of that mattered now, the man was long gone and dead. the only thing that did though was sole. quickly, his hands traveled throughout their body where he could spot the visible injuries and pressed against them, as if it would halt any of the bleeding. “boss, can ya’ hear me?” he felt the fear surge through him the moment they remained unresponsive, eyes closed despite his small taps on their cheek. “fuck,” he breathed, “wake the fuck up.” his voice became more desperate as he attempted to shake them awake, but when sole showed no signs of opening their eyes anytime soon, his heart dropped. “don’t think you get to fuckin’ die on me. not now.” his voice was full of anger- not at sole, but at himself - as he carried sole in his arms to bring them to the nearest infirmary he could find. ‘not ever’, he thought, going as fast as his legs could take him, ignoring the growing pain in his limbs as he did so.

the infirmary he brought sole to informed him that they were not able to take them in due to the rooms being occupied and he pointed his gun at every single one of them, an angry expression painting his face. “now, if ya don’t take them in, i’ll be sure to take care each and every one of ya,” every worker in the building swallowed nervously, raising their hands in surrender, “i don’t make any empty threats, so get goin’ or things are gonna get dirty.” the doctors swallowed nervously, nodding in agreement as they hesitently took sole from his arms. once sole was treated and given time to recover, he’d properly confront them after days of thinking to himself. gage would give a proper and heartfelt apology, guilt wading in his eyes as he spoke. if sole tried to do anything that was against the doctors orders, he’d snap at them, annoyed at their stubbornness, “dang it boss, lay the fuck down.” he’d spit, eventually letting out a sigh as he turned his back at them, “i fuckin’ got it. just say the word and i’ll do it.” he’d feel himself flush, embarrassed at his temper as sole remained quiet, “i just,” he choked on his words, “i want ya to get better. i’m the reason why yer hurt and shit, so let me do this. please.”

[yan-purgatory]

Netflix and Kill

request: CHANGKYUN possessive yandere! Where he's your quite neighbor who slowly opens up to you but you have a house Netflix date with another member, he can't handle that, time skip you go to your kitchen to get some midnight snacks(same night after the date) and find kyun in the kitchen sitting in the dark etc etc👀

pairing: changkyun x reader

word count: 1.8k

admin: ღ

The first time (Y/N) had “met” their neighbour was the day after they moved in. There was a knock at the door, leading (Y/N) to abandon the assembly of their IKEA wardrobe and greet her visitor. By the time they were at the door however, there was no person but rather a box of fresh cookies, and there was a young man walking away. (Y/N) stepped out to try to talk to him and thank him, but he just walked straight back into his apartment and locked the door.

(Y/N) picked up the box with a smile on their face, the smell bringing a rush of happiness and peace to their exhausted body after days of heavy labour. Meanwhile, her neighbour was just watching through his peephole to see their reaction, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in in seeing the delighted smile of his new neighbour.

Changkyun collapsed on the sofa. He didn’t know why his heart was beating so fast when he hadn’t even interacted with them, when most of the people he saw on a day-to-day basis disgusted him and he had to put on the facade of kindness in order to advance in society. Yet, he was secretly yearning to speak to his new neighbour, a completely foreign feeling to his cold heart. Even if he’d put in the bare minimum effort by buying some simple cookies from the bakery, they seemed to treasure his gift and he liked that feeling.

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he was writing an email to his landlord to ask for the new resident’s name. There was a pit of worry when he hit send that his request would not be received and he would never be able to learn enough about the person who was occupying his brain.

Luckily, by that evening he had his reply, and his night was spent scouring the internet, fascinated by the enigma (L/N) (Y/N).

~ ღ ~

The next time that (Y/N) encountered their quiet neighbour face-to-face was a week later, when checking their mail in the morning. He was already there, a few envelopes in his hand and ready to leave only to stop in place when he saw (Y/N).

“Hi.” (Y/N) smiled awkwardly. “I don’t think I’ve had the chance to introduce myself.”

He nodded, not saying a word with his eyes trained on them.

“My name is (Y/N), and I’m the new chef at the Traveller.” They said, stretching out their hand for him.

Of course, Changkyun knew that but he didn’t dare tell them that. (Y/N) didn’t need to know how he’d spent long nights pouring over the social media of them, their friends, their family, just shooting any form of the drug that was (L/N) (Y/N). Nonetheless he took their hand in his own and gave it a firm shake, enjoying the soft feeling of their skin against his. It was better than anything he’d absorbed from the computer screen.

“Changkyun.” He replied shortly.

“Your cookies were delicious, by the way.” (Y/N) offered him a grin as they withdrew their hand from the slightly too long handshake.

“Thank you.” A ghost of a smile ran over his lips. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook otherwise.”

“Well maybe I can teach you. It is my job after all.” His neighbour said cheerily. He nodded and pushed past them to leave the mailroom, hoping they couldn’t hear his racing heart.

By God, Changkyun had never been so infatuated with anyone in his life. There was something about them, about the way that they smiled at him that made him feel alive.

~ ღ ~

In the passing months, (Y/N) found themselves establishing a closer bond with Changkyun. Teaching him how to cook their favorite dishes, helping him decorate his drab apartment for Christmas, listening to the playlist he made for them on spotify. All the while, his obsession with his neighbour was spiralling downwards - when (Y/N) stood a bit too close to him, the desire to bury his nose in his hair and breathe in their gorgeous scent was almost uncontrollable. When (Y/N) would stagger up the stairs drenched because they forgot an umbrella, his hands twitched to remove their wet clothes and run his hands down their naked body. (Y/N) had become his night and day, and they didn’t even know it.

He’d taken to walking around the block at 8PM on Thursdays, since usually (Y/N)’s shift was over and they would be walking back only to coincidentally run into Changkyun and have him accompany them home. However, when he engaged in his daily ritual on that night, he saw no sign of his neighbour. Clearly, their work was taking over their life - he was considering phoning their boss as their boyfriend to ask that she doesn’t work any more overtime, since it was depriving them of time together. A little white lie never hurt anybody, no?

However, just as he was arriving home and unlocking his door, he heard the familiar soothing sound of (Y/N)’s voice.

“No way! I swear, I’ll kill you one day.” Their laughter was medicine to his ears, but he froze in place when he heard another voice accompanying it.

“You’d never do that, you love me far too much.” The words sent shivers down Changkyun’s spine. Was there a secret boyfriend behind the scenes that he didn’t know about? Had he spent all this time chasing after someone who had already been taken?

(Y/N) didn’t even pay any attention to Changkyun, rooted to the spot in front of his door - as they dragged their partner over to their flat and continued to babble on.

He felt himself shaking with rage, at himself and at her. How could she seek out the company of someone else when he was always there for her?

All ideas of going to bed were now abandoned, as Changkyun abandoned his home to sit outside of (Y/N)’s door and listen in on the interaction.

He heard the ‘Ba-Boom’ of Netflix turning on, the sound of popping corn, and then relative silence whilst (Y/N) and their vermin watched some film together bar the occasional snarky comment.

It was practically torture, knowing that (Y/N) was with another man, possibly even cuddling with him. Changkyun wanted nothing more than to rip the bastard into shreds, but he had to be patient.

As the hours trickled by, he felt his eyelids starting to droop. Surely a coffee wouldn’t hurt, he posed to himself. If he had the caffeine, he could stay up and talk to (Y/N) long after that vermin had scampered. It was when he was on his way out of the apartment holding the steaming cup of joe that he ran into the man who had been plaguing (Y/N). And like that, an idea popped into Changkyun’s head.

“You’re (Y/N)’s newest victim then?” He spoke in a low voice, hoping that regardless of what state (Y/N) was in they wouldn’t hear him.

Kihyun gazed at him quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“I see men like you in there most nights of the week. They’re practically the village bicycle.” Changkyun scoffed, taking a sip of coffee.

“We just watched a few movies, we didn’t fuck?” His rival retorted, but Changkyun just laughed coldly.

“They’re buttering you up. I wouldn’t expect them to be ‘friends’ with you for much longer.”

“Why are you- never mind.” The man sighed, turning on his heel to leave the building.

“Have a nice night!” Changkyun called after him, barely able to contain his shit-eating grin. Yes, it was satisfying to indulge in (Y/N), to admire them like anyone else. But it was way more fun to see the ones once enamoured with the ethereal being scamper away with their tail between their legs.

With the nuisance gone, Changkyun decided to enter (Y/N)’s apartment. The door was left slightly ajar, practically inviting him into the warm haven.

His angel was passed out of the sofa, having been tucked up nice and warm in a cozy blanket. He stopped to admire their perfect face, barely lit by the dim light of the television screen.

He found himself a seat in the kitchen to indulge in his lukewarm coffee as he waited for (Y/N) to awaken, so they could have a nice little chat.

~ ღ ~

When (Y/N) woke up, their apartment was dark and Kihyun was long gone. Brushing off the disappointment that came with no longer having his pleasant company, they sat up,

their stomach was screaming at them. The only food they’d eaten that night was the popcorn with Kihyun - they’d planned to cook a meal for the two of them, but exhaustion had won over them and they embarrassingly fell asleep in front of the movie before they even had the chance to offer.

Even if they regretted being an awful host to Kihyun, their hunger was a more pressing concern as they plodded into the kitchen to find something. Their mind was so occupied by their stomach in fact, they didn’t even notice Changkyun’s presence.

They found a packet of instant ramen shamefully hidden at the back of their cupboard, and were just about to heat up some water when a familiar chilling voice spoke up.

“Did you have a nice evening?”

They turned to finally notice Changkyun, leaning back in one of her chairs like he owned the place.

“Changkyun…? What are you doing in my kitchen?” (Y/N) rubbed at their eyes to make sure they weren’t dreaming.

“I thought it would be nice to pay you a little visit. It seems I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.”

He stood up and approached them, his aura more intimidating than they’d ever seen before.

“Who was he?” Changkyun snarled, his hand shooting out and gripping so tightly into (Y/N)’s neck that the nails were digging into their skin. “That son of a bitch you spent the entire evening with, leaving me out in the cold?”

“He’s just my colleague! Nothing more!” (Y/N) insisted, tears welling up in their eyes.

“Is that so?” (Y/N) was shoved onto a chair, with Changkyun standing over them. “Because I think some boundaries were overstepped. You don’t quite understand that you should belong to me, and me alone. You’ve severely betrayed my trust, and you should have to beg for my forgiveness.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“You’re going to phone them tomorrow and resign. Do you understand?” He breathed out, ignoring their scathing remark. “Your workplace doesn’t deserve a worker who will whore around with whoever pays them attention.”

He seated himself on their lap, his face getting dangerously close to them. It was then they felt cool steel pressing against their neck and realised he was brandishing one of their chef’s knives.

“You don’t need your job. You don’t need anyone else. You just need me.”