#those reasons are pain and writers block

[aroace-number-eight]

Drawing Five according to his canonical UaO epilogue description is so messy and saddening because there's so much to account for that got him physically fucked up and you know the writers were hammering in this whole disfigurement as punishment thing with him

Because first you have the eye hole where Marina pierced him, and I'm not sure if he's still wearing that gauze eye patch on the island because eventually it'll get dirty and he'll have to toss it

Then you have the scar marks from when Setrákus Ra clawed right through his metal skin "like butter" and it's not mentioned whether those marks are still there or they disappeared when he returned to his flesh skin (and it's doubtful those were healed at all, we don't even know if Marina had a proper visit and talked to him and possibly healed those away)

Then you have the goop that created some patchy spots all over his skin and show up all web-like on him

And then how it's implied he starved on the island because he lost weight so fast and is described to have flaps of skin on his arms and torso and a body so skinny you could see an outline of his ribs and spine

Bro he has so much physical trauma on him, like they did the most on him and left it like that till the very end

[rosykims]

i think the reason (or at least one reason) why varric is so unapologetic abt his bananas retelling of cillian's ~champion of kirkwall~ tale is bc cillian's life was quite honestly already batshit insane before he even met the guy. i love the idea of him being a jack of all trades kinda dude so yeah he was a carpenter in lothering in the three years between malcolm's death and enlisting for ostagar, plus a hobbyist painter on the side which is... eh its cool ig. but he also left home when he was 18 and travelled to orlais and antiva for several years was briefly. ahem. a mercenary. a lord of fortune. an acrobat with a travelling circus. a cat burglar. a BARD. and also (very briefly) an assassin <3 so honestly varric at this point is underselling him lol

[just-zy]

Possessive

pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!

summary: If being unattractive and boring were a choice, Wednesday would've taken those choices for the both of you when you started dating. But, can she really blame your admirers?

A/N: hi hello yes, I got motivation, then it's back to writers block.. this is rly short!! & this is kinda shitty btw but whtevr

Warnings!: literally none.. I think.. I hope.. Just inappropriate language! (?)

Masterlist

Territorial—that was what Wednesday is. Possessive of what's hers, you. But the world doesn't know about that little detail, now do they? As much as Wednesday would hate to admit it, she despises seeing someone talk to you with flirtatious glances and the intention to take you out on a date afterwards. You were hers and she was yours.

If she wasn't ready to tell the world that you were hers, then so be it, you waited just like you said you would. You were always careful whether it'd been in public or private every time the matter of being in a relationship was being questioned.

"Are you dating someone?"

"Are you single?"

And your answer would always end up being;

"Uh– I have my eyes on someone right now-"

Which goes straight out of their heads!

"Oh? So you're single.. Okay so, I was hoping..."

And so on. Wednesday didn't like that, not when they're continuously asking you. That's what had been happening ever since she said yes to you.

Due to this, you were still that single popular outcast everyone wanted.

★

"Wednesday come on– she was just confessing, it's not like I agreed to the terms of it, I just heard her out-" I pleaded while I chased after Wednesday, short legged people are literally faster than light.

Another day another confession. It's not like it was on purpose! Besides, I have a girlfriend!

"You barely acknowledged me when I passed by, why tail me now."

"You're not serious are you? I didn't want to be rude and just leave her while she confessed!"

"For this reason, you're saying you care more about her than you do, me." Wednesday's monotone voice laid no remorse, whatsoever.

"What! I didn't say that?!"

She halts in her tracks and stared me down.

"You implied it."

She opens the door to her room right after the intense eye contact she made with me. I had no time to react, she completely locked me out!

"Wednesday, please? Open the door."

I began knocking rapidly, leaning my face to the door, my temple making contact with the wooden door.

"Continue knocking and I'll knock all your teeth in, Y/L/N."

I swore my heart stopped beating for a second, I moved away from the door whilst hearing faint clicks of Wednesday's typewriter. I click my tongue in annoyance.

"Okay."

...

Nevertheless, the pain lingered with you, which proves just how much Wednesday means to you, you wanted to know what was going on with her life, all the time. Every time.

But, it seems the world only gave you a few hours of the day for you to spend with your girlfriend.

You roamed around the quad, feeling a little sleepy. So, you took the initiative to just lay down on the nearest tree and set a timer on your phone.

Your eyes were growing droopy and tired, a few minutes in the sun wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, what's bound to happen in 10 minutes?

.

Wednesday couldn't get you out of her head, it was like you were taunting her. She hoped you weren't too upset about her childish behaviour just a few moments ago. She was confident you'd be just behind the door waiting for her to open it, although.. The only thing was, you weren't there.

She hoped you weren't too agitated with her, now she's the one looking for you. Gosh, she just wants to hold you hostage with her in her duvet.

Searching for you wasn't hard, there you were, sound asleep by a tree, with the same girl heading your way–

That girl again? Can't she take a damn hint?

If Wednesday wasn't fuming earlier, well she was now. She wasted no time then began marching right towards to both of you.

"Hello."

You were a light sleeper, sometimes you were. Your subconscious lets you sleep soundly, occasionally.

"Uhm? Hi.."

"What's your business with Y/N?"

"Oh, I was just looking after her. She's out here in the sun, all alone–"

"But she's not, she's with me."

The girl snickered at her, as if mocking her.

"Finders keepers, loser." She sneered, in a way that shows that she was ridiculing Wednesday.

"Leave."

"Or what, Ghoul?"

"Or, I'd let my demonic girlfriend rip you to shreds."

That certainly had the girl look accurately close to Wednesday's skin color, her hooded eyes widening and her mouth flying wide open, with her creased eyebrows, was it out of realization or was it because she was horrified?

"You heard what my ghoul said, leave."

How unfortunate, she felt ashamed and left without a word. Wednesday likes being mysterious and secretive, but not about her relationship with you, not anymore anyways.

A/N: :)

[xhoneygirlxx]

WANTED U

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader

summary: when your date is ruined by your best friend, can you stay mad at him when he reveals a secret you've been dying to know?

warnings: fluff, slight angst, Eddie is deep in his feels, two idiots in love. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY! mentions of drinking, Eddie gets drunk. swearing. p in v, creampie (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, body worship and praise. Reader's race/ethnicity is not mentioned! she/her pronouns used. Both Eddie and Reader are in their twenties. Also not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing!

*if I miss anything please let me know!

a/n: Hi honey bunnies! I just want to thank @ali-r3n for this really cute idea! I'm so sorry it took me forever to post and I'm sorry about the shitty writing! Smut is not my strong suit and I've been plagued with the horrible writers block, so I hope this is okay! I hope you like this and thank you for being so wonderful and patient <3

All you wanted to do was to go on one date. One singular date. For the first time since your high school prom, you were going out with someone who was interested in you. A tinder match that led to multiple conversations, that led to having drinks, to hopefully going back to his place for a well needed time in the sheets. 

That was the plan for the night. Then your phone started to blow up with phone calls and texts, an apparent SOS that couldn’t wait. So you had to cancel, mid-date, telling your date that there was a family emergency. You knew walking out of there that Jordan wouldn’t text you back or ever take you up on the second date offer. 

It wasn’t like you were heartbroken over it, however you were a little bummed. The whole reason you even got on the dating app was because you were trying to get over your best friend. Eddie Munson stole your heart at the age of fifteen and had yet to give it back. It was a sick cycle that you have been going through for nine years. 

You were the lovesick best friend, who just couldn’t take the hint, following him around like a lost dog. Eddie had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t care. Canceling plans just because he wanted to see you, doing whatever he asked just because, and never dating with the hopes of him finally falling for you. 

Those dreams were fruitless however, because Eddie didn’t see you as anything more than a friend. All the pining and unrequited love was killing you, a slow painful death that would put medieval torture devices to shame. It’s not like you could blame the brown haired boy, it’s not like you can pick who you fall for, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it would happen. 

So therefore you took the giant leap and put yourself out there, trying to ease the ache of your heart. In the end you ended up in Eddie’s apartment, helping him in his drunken state, get to bed. The emergency that Jeff blew your phone up for, was this. A night out with the guys turned into Eddie getting belligerent and refusing to leave until you came and got him. 

The whole car ride there you were disappointed in yourself, the whole reason for your dumb date was to stop yourself from running to the rescue every time he called. You were annoyed and heavily frustrated with the outcome of your night. It almost felt like the universe was against you, whatever god above watching you and laughing every single time you failed to move on. 

As much as you wanted to hate the grown man sitting in front of you, you simply couldn’t. His whiskey colored eyes round and glossy, nose and cheeks rosy with the heat of alcohol coursing through him, and his hair messy from the cold night wind. He was so pretty and it was hard trying to stay mad at him, especially when he had a deep dimpled smile adorning his face. 

“Alright Eds, I need you to change out of your clothes.” You say sweetly, the pile of his pajama’s hanging in your hands. 

Following your instructions, he tries to lift his shirt over his head, only for it to get caught on his head. “Sweets, I need help.” He sounds like a helpless child trying to tie his shoes, and you have to stifle a laugh. 

Placing the change of clothes next to him on the bed, you swiftly pull the stuck fabric off of him. When his head is released, he shakes his hair out of his face so he can see you. A childlike wonder flits in his eyes as he looks at you, admiring the way you’re being so gentle. 

A small thank you is whispered, you hum in response as you pull the new shirt on him. His eyes close as you gently tug his arms through the hole, soaking up the amount of attention you give to him. It feels like you’re changing a newborn, so docile and content with the way you handle him. 

“Can you take your pants off yourself or do you need me to help?” Your voice breaks his sleepy demeanor, droopy eyes looking up at you. 

“You gonna buy me dinner first?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he playfully smirks at you. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan, yet your heart beat picks up at his innuendo. 

Surprisingly, he’s able to take his bottoms off and replace them with the pair you picked out for him. Pulling the jewelry off his wrist and fingers, you place them hastily on his bedside table. His eyes follow your every move, like a curious kitty watching their owner. Pulling back the covers on his bed, you gently lay him down and prop his head up with pillows. 

“So you have your bottle of water right here,” You show him by picking it up off the table where it’s sat, “And the bottle of Tylenol is right next to it. Now if at any moment you feel like you have to throw up, the garbage can is right next to you on the floor. Okay?” 

Humming to you in understanding, he closes his eyes once more. When you think he’s about to pass out, you turn on your heel to grab clothes for yourself. Not getting far, his big hand wraps around your wrist gently, bringing your attention back to him. This time his expression isn’t as content or happy. No, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears and his bottom lip jets out in a pout. 

“Please don’t leave.” It’s a whispered plea, innocent and childlike. 

“I’m not leaving Eds, just grabbin’ some clothes to change into.” Even with your assuring smile, he’s still frowning at you. 

“Please just, don’t leave.” Tugging your arm slightly, he brings you closer to the bed. 

“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re now concerned with the state of your best friend and why he felt the need to beg you to stay. 

“Promise? What about Jacob?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Although he closes his eyes again, you still press for answers. 

“I don’t wanna lose you t’some douche. You needa be with me, sweets cause I love you s’much. Don’t wanna lose you to him.” It’s all a slurred mess, his words mumbling together as they fall out of his mouth. 

“If you mean Jordan, no I’m not going to leave you for him” You giggle softly, “I left my date with him to come get you. Plus his stories about kayaking were starting to get boring.” You try to lighten the mood, but it only makes his lip wobble more. 

“I shoulda made a move, I wanted to b-but I-I was scared. Gareth told me I lost my chance with you and he-he was right.” A few stray tears fall down his cheek and you lift a hand to wipe them away. 

The same brown eyes you fell in love with, all those years ago, stare up at you. The heart that’s bleed for him for nine years is starting to heal, the words you so desperately wanted to hear are finally coming to light. 

With your own tears glistening in your eyes, you look down at him like you always do. With the biggest heart in your eyes and brightest smile on your face. “You should stop listening to Gareth, Eds. I think you still have a shot, but we’ll talk about this later. When you’re not drunk.” 

Bobbing his head the best he can, he squeezes your hand once before retracting it. With his eyes closed and steady breaths leave his parted lips, you get changed and turn off the lights. Maybe the universe wasn’t against you, maybe it was on your side the whole time and just had a funny way of showing it. 

__

The bright sun pouring through the window, wakes you up. The sight before you is one you’ve seen before. The side profile of your best friend’s face, wild hair sprawled over the pillow that lays beneath him. You take this moment in to study his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes kiss the tops of his cheeks, and how kissable his lips look. 

Not much later is he stirring, stretching his limbs out after his wild night out. Cracking one of his eyes open, he winces slightly before running his hands down his face. Blinking once or twice, he finally lets himself wake up, staring straight at the ceiling. You wonder if he remembers what he said or if you should bring it up. Instead you choose to play it cool, or at least try to. 

“Good morning drunky! How’d you sleep?” Reaching a finger out, you poke his side.

“Drunky,” he snorts,” I actually slept well, thanks to my wonderful nurse.” He takes a peak over at you, a smug smile already pushing his cheeks up high. 

You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy when you hear his voice, thick and husky with sleep. The giddy feeling rushing through you is written all over your face, covered up by a bad attempt of biting back a smile. 

“Well, I’m glad you don’t feel so shitty.” You say, stretching your body to distract yourself from his burning gaze. 

“What time is it anyway?” His question comes out in a yawn, loud and exaggerated. Propping up on your elbow, you lean over him to get a look at your alarm clock. 

“A little past ten.” Eddie huffs, muttering something about it being far too early. “I know it’s too early for you but that just means we can go to Jerry’s and get waffles to soak up whatever's left in your system.” You coo at him mockingly, fake pouting as you look at him. 

“Ya know, I don’t enjoy your fake pity.” Eddie rolls his eyes at you, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Oh I’m sorry, Eds. Want some ketchup with those cries?” Eddie’s frown deepens like a bratty child, and you eat up every second of it. “Oh, I know! I’ll call a wambulance.” You throw your head back, laughing at your own joke. 

With your attention off of him, he sees the perfect opportunity to laugh. At lightning speed, he grips your hands, flipping you over on your back. With the weight of his thighs bracketing you and his hand gripping your wrists together, you’re defenseless. 

With a wild glint in his eyes, Eddie wastes no time in attacking you with a finger to your side. Relentlessly, Eddie tickles you to the point there are tears in your eyes from how hard you're laughing, and your pleas for him to stop are swallowed by the oxygen that’s being stolen from your lungs. 

“It’s not so funny when it’s your turn, huh?” Smirking down at you, his attack doesn’t relent. 

Thrashing around the best you can, you try everything to get him off but with the way his thighs squeeze your legs together makes it hard to do so. 

“Okay, Okay! I’m sorry, Eddie! Please!” The last word comes out as the softest moan, so soft that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. However, Eddie was and his fingers stopped digging into your sides immediately. 

The sound of your heavy breathing is the only thing to be heard. Eddie stares down at you, eyes unblinking and cheeks dusted pink. The usually brown eyes are now dark, the dark pupil over taking the iris. You stare right back at him, chest rising and falling dramatically and lips parted slightly letting the air from your lungs flow out easily. 

It feels like the world has stopped, time frozen still for eternity. The mid-morning light painting the two of you in a portrait, cementing the moment forever. Two heart beats synching up together, beating against the bones of your rib cages. 

“Fuck it.”

Eddie rushes in to smash his lips against yours. Years of waiting and wondering if this moment would ever happen, now finally laying to rest. The taste of him has been the missing part of your life this whole time and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 

It’s sweet and slow, his tongue slipping inside your mouth softly. Morning breath be damned, the two of you make out for what seems like hours on end. Parting from each other for much needed air, a small giggle leaves your mouth. 

“What?” Eddie smiles, his face as dopey and gooey as you feel on the inside. 

“I just wanted this for so long.” You admit, making his smile pull wider. 

Leaning back down to you, he peppers kisses all over your face. The snickering that’s leaving your mouth is slowly turned into a whimper when his lips find their way to your neck. A gasp pulls from your chest the minute he finds that spot, eliciting him to suck on it. Hissing when it becomes too much, Eddie is quick to soothe the sting with his tongue. 

Pulling his face away from the crevice of your neck, his eyes find yours as his hand glides to find the hem of your shirt. Tugging on it and raising an eyebrow in question, you nod overenthusiastically. 

Ripping the oversized shirt over your face, he takes his time to memorize all the details of your skin. The heat of his stare becomes a bit too much, worry overtaking your brain causing you to bite down on your lip. 

“I just want you to know that I’ve waited since freshman year to see these bad boys.” Attention still drawn on your bare chest. 

“Well, do they live up to the hype?” You question, tone not as confident as you think. 

Eddie’s head whips up to you, mouth agape and you swear you can see drool pooling from his lips. “Sweets, you have no idea.” 

Diving in, he kisses the doughy flesh of your breasts, going back and forth between the two. Like a magnet to a fridge, his lips find the hardened bud and latches on. Switching between sucking and flicking his tongue, you squirm underneath him trying to find some sort of friction for the ache in between your legs. 

“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thoughts of this.” Eddie mutters as he moves his attention to the opposite nipple. 

Between his admission and the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin, you moan loudly. The feeling of more wetness pool in your panties alerts you, the overwhelming feeling of need buzzing through you. A small whine comes from you and it catches Eddie’s attention. 

Pulling away from your breast and peering up at you, he cocks his head to the side. “What’s wrong, baby? Want some cheese for that whine?” 

When his canine teeth shine through his devilish smirk, you whimper. You hate that he’s using your game from earlier against you, teasing you like he doesn’t know what you want. 

“What is it, sweets? Tell me what you want.” Fake pity drips from his question and it only eggs you on more. 

Eddie’s got you so worked up that you can’t even speak. Lifting your hips to show him what you need, you frown harder when he laughs at you. 

“Oh, princess,” He coos, running his thumb along your lower lip, “Be the good girl I know you are, and ask. Can you do that f’me?” Nodding your head, he encourages you with an assuring smile. 

“C-can you touch me, please?” Your voice sounds so small and you’d honestly cringe if it weren’t for the fact that you know you’re dripping out of the fabric of your panties onto his bed. 

Sighing heavily, Eddie gives your bottom lip a small tug with his thumb, letting the bottom row of your teeth show before it bounces back up into place. 

“I would tease you more but you asked so nicely.” Shuffling down your body, he loops his fingers through the sides and guides the thin material down your legs. 

Pushing his way through your thighs, Eddie runs the tip of his middle finger up the slit of your sex. His finger grazes lightly over your bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt from the feeling. 

“You’re really fucking wet.” Eddie says breathlessly as he parts your glistening lips apart with his fingertips. 

Not waiting for your response, Eddie circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it in slowly. The stretch from his finger makes you arch slightly, a muffled moan falling from your mouth. Using the pad of his thumb, he swirls your clit in alternating circles and figure eights. 

“More, Eds. Fuck, please!” You beg and who is Eddie to deny you. Pushing another finger inside, he curls them just right and starts going faster. 

“Fuck you’re so greedy, baby. Isn’t that right, you’re s’greedy for me, huh?” With his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks a pretty burgundy shade, he looks just as fucked out as you. 

Writhing underneath him, you babble nonsense as his fingers hit that spot you always struggle to. “Yes! M’so greedy - Shit!” 

“You gonna let me taste you? Gonna let me eat this pretty cunt?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, your body already doing it for you by clenching around his fingers. “Oh she likes that, huh? You like imagining me in between these pretty thighs, baby?” 

“Think ‘bout it all the time.” You moan, hips rocking against his hand as you try to chase your high. 

“Yeah, sweets? Think about me when you play with this pretty pussy?” 

That’s all it takes for you to come undone, gushing around his fingers with a muted scream. Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolled into the back of your head, as the feeling of your orgasm washes over you. 

Eddie helps you ride through it, continuing his motions until your tense muscles relax into a jelly like state. When you come back down from your high, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. Moving your eyes to him, you watch as he sticks his middle and forefinger in his mouth, moaning when the taste of you hits his taste buds. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to eat you out.” Eddie grins at you and you roll your eyes playfully back at him. 

“That sounds absolutely wonderful, but” You begin to say and his face drops with the fear of rejection, “I’m going to need you to fuck me in the next thirty seconds.” You smirk and his jaw drops. 

After fifteen seconds of pure shock, Eddie shakes his head and tries to play it cool. 

“Yeah totally, let me just-” His sentence is cut off when he begins to struggle out of his own clothes. 

Once he’s stark naked and hovering over you, you laugh giddily up at him. Putting his forehead to you, he studies your eyes for any sort of regret or doubt. 

“Eds, I promise you I want this.” You reassure him, making sure to prove the point with a loving kiss.

With his confidence boosted, Eddie snakes his hand down to guide himself into you. When the tip breaches your entrance, the both of you gasp at the feeling.

Pushing in slowly, he brings his lips back to yours, swallowing your moans. Once he's all the way in, Eddie gives you a minute to adjust before he starts moving.

Nodding your head to let him know you're good, he pulls almost all the way out before ramming back into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.

"Fuuck, sweets. S'fuckin' tight." His voice trembles as he pounds into you.

"You're so big, I can feel you s'deep." You slur, drunk on the way his cock stretches you, hitting that sweet spot with every drag of his hips.

Eddie resituates himself, pushing your knees up to your chest, before bringing his chest back down to yours. This way you can feel him even deeper, which you didn't even think was possible.

You're on fire, belly burning bright with fire. Eddie's everywhere, he's all you can see, hear, smell, touch, think, he's invaded every single one of your senses and you can't get enough.

His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed with the pure bliss of being inside of you. It's so intimate yet so dirty and it's driving you insane.

Opening his eyes, he looks down at you like you've hung the stars that shine in the sky.

"I wanted this for so long, sweets. I wanted you, so Fuck-" He hangs his head, speeding up the movements of his hips. A roaring sob comes out of your mouth, the fire in you burning hotter with every drag of his thick cock.

"I'm so in love with you, sweets. Been yours since I was sixteen." Finally he confesses, letting the sacred secret out, only this time he's drunk off of you.

"I love you too! Fuck-I love you so fucking much."

"Tell me you're mine. Please, tell me." He begs and you comply, growing closer and closer to the edge.

"M'yours, been yours since I was fifteen." You confess and it feels like the weight of the world has lifted off of you.

With one last thrust, you come undone with a loud cry. Eddie doesn't let up his movements, now only focusing on his own release.

The way his hips stutter, you know that he won't last too much longer.

"I want you to cum in me, Eds. I wanna feel s'bad." You coax and that's all it takes for the metalhead to come with a stuttering grunt.

Lazily thrusting into you, he finally stops when he becomes overstimulated. The room is once again calm, the now afternoon sun blinds you as it seeps into the room. Heavy breathing and content hums fill the room, while the scent of sex lingers in the air.

Shyly removing himself from your chest, Eddie looks at you sheepishly. "Now what?"

If you didn't know Eddie you'd probably think he's being rude, but you know that he really is just overthinking everything that just happened. In his mind he thinks you're probably regretting everything, even though you told him you felt the same way.

Using your hand to pull some of the hair that sticks to his cheeks away, you smile affectionately at him.

"Well, I was thinking we could still go to Jerry's for breakfast," Eddie still looks at you like he's waiting for the ball to drop, "Then I thought you could keep your promise and eat your girlfriend out. That is, if you're not too full."

"Really?" He looks like a puppy who just heard its favorite word, excited with it's tail wagging back and forth.

Snickering up at him, you nod your head rapidly. Pulling out of you quickly, Eddie runs out of the room and you can hear the chaos of clattering from behind the door.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" More giggles fall from your lips as he races back in with a wet wash rag in his hand.

"Gotta clean you up before we go out to eat, baby. That way I can recreate our masterpiece later." He says wiggling his eyebrows.

Yeah this was the dork you fell in love with and who you were going to love for the rest of your life.

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Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's not the best!

[renecdote]

rebirth

Bi Buck cured my writers block, please have this short little episode coda for 7x04. [Read on AO3]

It’s after one a.m. when the light, bubbly excitement in his stomach sours, fear creeping in. Buck’s next breath sticks in his chest, his heart races, his fingers start tingling, and it’s so much like what kissing Tommy did to him, but for all the wrong reasons this time. His phone screen is suddenly too bright in the darkness, his search history a towering mess of questions, and Reddit threads, and quizzes he clicked into then out of before he could finish taking them.

The problem, he thinks, is that it felt so right. Tommy tilted his chin up and pressed their lips together and it felt like—himself, for the first time in… forever, maybe. Buck doesn’t know what he’s meant to do with that. Go out on Saturday night, maybe (hopefully) kiss Tommy again (and again and again and again), but then… But then?

He wants to call Eddie because he always wants to call Eddie. He wants to blurt out all the things he kept under his tongue when he apologised earlier. He wants to hear Eddie say his name, soft and warm and knowing, because if anyone can make him feel seen and heard and at home in his own skin, it’s Eddie. He wants so hard it’s almost painful.

But it’s the middle of the night, he can’t call Eddie.

He can’t call Maddie either. She would answer, he knows, and she’d have just the right words for the spiralling anxiety that’s sucking him in, but he’s not going to scare her with the phone ringing in the middle of the night. There have been too many calls like that that have only been bad news.

He won’t worry Hen or Bobby with a call like that either.

And as much as Buck wants to confide in them, wants to crack his chest open and show his family what has been inside the whole time, there’s another part of him that doesn’t want to share. Not yet. He feels like the newborn calves he saw at the ranch in Montana, young and fragile and unsteady as he tries to find his feet. The world suddenly feels bigger. Brighter. And it’s exciting, it’s freeing, but he can’t help feeling daunted, like he might get lost if he’s not careful.

“Bisexual,” he says aloud, just to hear himself say it, to taste the way it feels on his tongue not just as a word but as an identity. It feels like an exhalation, trembling at the edges but not just with fear, or excitement, but with relief. He thinks of that first breath of air when his head came above water in the tsunami, he thinks of being struck by lightning, he thinks of stepping into Station 118 for the first time, he thinks of catching the Jeep keys Maddie tossed him in the dark of a Hershey street all those years ago. Buck knows what it is like to be reborn, but he has never had a kiss make him feel like this before.

Did the first time you kissed a girl feel like this? he wants to ask Hen. Does it feel like this every time?

Is this the magic you were talking about when you first met Shannon? he wants to ask Eddie.

I figured it out, he wants to tell Bobby. I figured out what being at ease with myself feels like.

He has a shift in six and a half hours, but sleep feels as impossible as it did when he first climbed into bed. Buck lifts a hand to trace his lips in his dark, reliving the memory of Tommy there. He imagines Tommy everywhere else too, trailing his hand down his body, fitting Tommy into all the places a few dozen women have touched before. He feels like a teenager, giddy at just the thought of sex—of everything—and he exhales a laugh in the dark.

Buck opens his phone again and sends a text to the one person he knows is on shift and might already be awake: when you said you’d pick me up on Saturday, you meant in the chopper right?

Tommy replies instantly: those things are a bitch to park

And a second later: maybe on the third date

There it is again: breath stuttering, heart racing, fingers tingling. Buck wonders if this is what it feels like to get behind the controls and fly. He grins at his phone. He can’t wait to find out.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

HUNDRED TWO POINT THREE

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Synopsis: as they say, in sickness and in health, but Aaron Hotchner seems to take sickness too seriously. WARNING: a whole lot of nada (i hope). all fluff. overprotective!aaron (duh). not proofread !!!! Word Count: 912 A/N: THIS IS A REPOST of a req from my sweet, sweet lumi @egdropsoop when i was sick. i had to mourn accidentally deleting the original post. it felt so heart-wrenching. and i couldn't find the draft in my docs for almost a week, so it was another type of panic and heartbreak. this writer is such a dummy sometimes, but i hope rereading the fic in case it pops in your feed isn't so bad

 This week’s case, by far, has been the most difficult you have yet to experience. 

 Besides the buzzing summer heat of Los Angeles and the loud commotion in each corner of the local precinct, not only did you have to bring back sticky sweat and ringing ears, but you also brought back a mind-numbing body temperature of 102.3 degrees.

 With Emily’s driving and Spencer’s constant rambling, by the time you guys arrive at the airport, your body is creaking with chills and joint pain. 

 “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

 You feel Hotch’s hands lay atop yours, prompting your brows to clash and your head to turn to your side where he towered over you. “What? I’m trying to make tea.” You say disorientedly, breathing quite ragged.

 It’s his turn to knit his brows. “Sounds reasonable, but don’t you think your cup has enough hot water?” You follow where he’s looking at your blushing red hand, steaming with heat. “You’re going to burn your hand at that rate.” He adds, lifting his gaze back at you. 

 He reads you for a moment. Your pinkish cheeks, heavy breathing, and disoriented state told him enough to make a deduction. They tell tales that are similar to those of a small Jack Hotchner after a venture in the rain or dry sweat over a fun visit to the park. 

 “You have a fever,” He informs you sternly.

 “No, I don’t.” Your nose crinkles, shaking his hands off yours and straightening up. The simple movement alone brings your head to spin, pushing you against the counter. You close your eyes, “M’kay, maybe I do.”

 Everything seems fuzzy, but you feel Hotch’s gentle hand over the small of your back, and you’re suddenly being led to one of the two couches in the jet, momentarily seeing a pouting Spencer Reid, woken up from his slumber as he mumbles to another seat.

 Hotch wraps his jacket around yours, squatting in front of you. "Honey, why don't you lay down? Get some shuteye." His voice is gentle in your ears. He squeezes your hand in his while the other brushes away loose strands off your burning face.

 “You okay, mama?” Derek turns from his seat, “Want some cocktail with that fun swirly straw you and Penelope love?” He jokes lightly in hopes that humor will lessen the throbbing in your head.

 “It’s not the time for jokes, Morgan. If you’d like to help, maybe stay quiet in your seat.”

 The entire jet shuts up.

 Emily and JJ’s low whispers halt as they shift their gaze from where Hotch blocks Derek’s view. Spencer tries his best to stifle his laugh, but Rossi only shakes his head.

 “She has a fever, Aaron. Not cancer. Let the lady sleep in peace.” Rossi interjects in defense of the team’s eye candy.

 Hotch ignores him, rolling his eyes. He maneuvers back to the kitchenette in search of some cloth and a bucket to fill with tepid water. 

 Derek settles back in his seat with a look of disbelief, “I thought I was dead for a second.” He mutters under his breath. “He’s gone full papa bear mode on her.”

 They watch as Hotch pulls heaven and hell in your favor. He makes tea. Even finds a can of soup from somewhere in the cabinets, wondering why none of them has ever seen that before. He goes back and forth, placing a cloth over your forehead.

 His goal is to get you out of feverish delirium by the time the jet lands back in Quantico. And Hotch is quite the mission-oriented guy.

 "Aaron..." You mumble almost unheard if only everyone isn't eavesdropping.

 "You need something, hon?" He gently blots the cloth over your face. His sleeves are rolled past his elbows, and a rivulet of sweat is over his temple from all the movement he's made in the past ten minutes.

 "Stop fussing and let me sleep, hmm? Go drink some scotch with Dave or something." You shoo him with one hand and steal the cloth from him with the other.

 Hotch shakes his head as if your eyes haven't been shut tight for a while now, prying the cloth off your hand. "Come on, now, sweetheart. I can't just leave you alone." He coos, successfully repossessing the damp fabric.

 It takes a toll on your body when you sit up, yanking the small towel a second time from his grasp, more aggressive this time.

 "Hey, be careful—"

 You raise a hand to shut him up, "Aaron Hotchner. Take a break, or I swear you won't have a bed to sleep in when we get home." You huff, willing your facial muscles to look as intimidating as you possibly can at your state. "And Jack will not side on you. We both know I'm his favorite. So get." You point at Rossi's direction.

 He sighs in defeat, leaving a kiss on the crown of your head. "Fine. But tell me when you need something—"

 "Start walking, Aaron," You shake your head, giving him a stern look.

 The unit chief trudges to the seat next to Rossi, where the older agents offer a glass. Before Hotch can even decline, you voice rings in the jet.

 "You better take that glass."

 He rolls his eyes, but does as you say.

 Everyone fights their will not to burst into laughter, or they just might get pushed off the jet.

hotch masterlist | masterlist

[fev3rish]

hellaur wife kenji sato fic and acc recs PLEASE MWAH MWAH MWAH 🤗🤗🤗

VIC’S FAVS ! kenji sato x reader

hiiii wifey<3 i know exactly who sent this. she’s a newer addition to the fandom and it is my duty to help her adjust 😇 this is a complete YAPATHON. by the way. i LOVE using any given oppurtunity i have to compliment writers because it’s like a win win situation to me. i get noticed by a cool writer and the writer knows someone enjoys their work like what thats so coolio

overall recommendations . . .

@luneariaa -> stepping into her account is like stepping into another dimension. i remember skimming through the kenji sato x reader tag while i was first settling into the fandom��before i was a writer myself—and they were one of the first writers i saw. their whole aesthetic and the way they format their writing, the way they write in general, is so beautiful and she’s such an underrated writer in the community! im also obsessed with their account theme it’s like a living visual stimboard on my phone. how do u do those silly little gif videos bby. im like one of ur biggest fans please notice me oh mg god pls PLEASE NOTICE ME PLEASE HAVE DINNER EITH ME PLEASE PLEASE (does a handstand) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

@yzzart -> my inspiration hello 🙏 she’s the reason i actually started writing for ultraman! her kenji boyfriend headcanons were the first things that caught my attention, and it sparked a bunch of will to write in me. she lowkey got me out of a writing block that lasted almost one year and im forever thankful for her beautiful existence 💗 her usage of vocabulary is IMPRESSIVE. i don’t usually have to google the meanings of words but the first time i ever did was when i read her writing and i mean that in the most positive way possible. it is ALWAYS a green flag when a writer uses big words and uses them right. her writing prowess is EVIDENT. and she deserves every nice word people say about her she is such a GORGEOUS girl

@reyalvr -> my friend who doesnt know shes my friend btw. we both went through the avatar -> ultraman pipeline and i think its so funny ?? i distinctly remember reading her ao’nung fics and eating them up ALL the time. when i discovered her again, i was like “oh! that username seems familiar?” and it’s kind of peculiar because while i do remember reading her writing back when i was still @/victoirey, and enjoying it because she devoured everytime, i don’t know if she’s had the same username for like forever? i digress! whatever it is, her writing always has me hooked. like i physically CANNOT stop reading. it put me in this trance like state and im like so “woah!” when i experience it because usually i can’t sit still. she deserves all the hype shes gotten; her writing is the closest thing to perfect, everything about it is entrancing. from the storyline to the dialogue, it all just falls into place. the only thing that isn’t perfect, is the fact that it ends. like why cant u just like write forever boo… come on😡💗

@mitskicain -> i have her most recent works in my read later list. her previous twoshot lowkey had me all giggly! i kicked my feet while reading and i accidentally stubbed my toe onto the nearby table but the story was so great it quelled my pain immediately. she’s such a good writer and i LOVE her characterization of kenji like it genuinely makes me blush so hard. also her username? is that a reference to ethel cain in it? …if u see this, i love ethel cain. my fav song is unpunishable. ure so cool. also her blog is like so … how do i say, like organized? like she has a way of making everything fit and fall into place . literally even if its a MEME. she’ll make it fall into place because thats judt how skilled she is. also batter up is such a clever name idk why im so impressed whenever i see it on ur blog im like “woh. batter up….. name nice. i love the name kween” but overall shes SO FUCKING GOOOOOOD AUFH

my fav fics . . .

ultraman, ultrafine, ultramine ; “kenji sato, the man that you are.” / WORD? i fucking love this twoshot its so GOD ugh i gush everytime i read it user mitskicain you are so GOOD

cutely written by @mitskicain

when i was led to you … ; “kenji could get used to his routine, but, only with you by his side.” / grrrrrr grrrrr i 😡😡😡 punchign wall!!1! so good. always so good ysa

gorgeously written by @yzzart

she’s mine ; “catch me, i’ve fallen in love for the first time.” / me after entering the kenji sato characterization competition, seeing user reyalvr and user mitskicain: 🚪🚶‍♀️ so FUCKING YUMMY

extraordinarily written by @reyalvr

piece of art ; aka kenji and u go to the museum / my honest reaction:

flawlessly written by @luneariaa

mommys here ; reader takes the role of pretty baby emi’s mother🥺 / i haven’t read this in full yet, but from the first few paragraphs i already know its a good story!! I am literally so attracted to this authors writing style for some reason like wow…. beautifully written by @kiwiikato

kenji & baseball!critic reader ; okay so its not really a fic think of it as me recommending you a trailer for a movie im really excited to see because i LURK. and I LURK ON THIS BABES ACCOUNT AND IM READIN WHEN U LEAST EXPECT IT 👀 writing style is flawless, by the way, baby. you’re such a starling .

wonderfully written by @rieamena

labor of love ; I FUCKING LOVE KENJI SATO AUTHORS😭😭/ read this today and i went 🙏 . my hands clasped together in prayer. literally thank you god. i love this so much. spectacularly written by @jinwoosungs

that’s it from me my loves, if you actually did read this—thank you? that’s sweet? gimme a big ol kiss? and i hope you know that whether or not you’re on this list literally all you need to do if you want to get your works out there is send me an ASK and i will literally edit this post and add my fav work from you i will literally do it. to the authors i included and to the others i didn’t, your efforts are seen and appreciated. i know it is hard to write stories and it is so impressive that you’ve written in the first place. you are all so talented, and i just wanted to remind you of that fact<3

💋 kisses, v <3

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I was actually wondering if you all could do a really in-depth post specifically on canes versus forearm crutches. I’ve noticed a couple of the recent asks pertain to it, and I think I myself still have one in the queue related to it, but in all of the posts y’all link us too in your answers to those asks, I have found the information is still very sparse and doesn’t directly compare the two in a lot of detail. I would really really love to see a specific dedicated post that breaks down the differences Between them directly, and goes into a lot more detail about what kind of person might prefer a cane and what kind of person might prefer forearm crutches. Differences in conditions, pain levels, fatigue levels, location of issue on their body, other symptoms, examples of disabilities that might more commonly default to one over the other, all that stuff. I’ve looked through basically all your posts on the subject I can find, and still feel like it’s really only scratching the surface, so if there’s a way y’all would be willing to do one big post on this topic specifically, I know at least I would really love it and I think others would as well! Most of the existing posts are a little too broad and surface level, and while I have found them super helpful as a starting point, I would love to see one that zooms in just on these two mobility aids rather than a broad overview of all types of mobility aids being compared like most of the existing resources y’all have. Seriously love what you all do and I would be extremely grateful for this!

Hi anon, just for you:

On Writing Characters Using Canes vs Crutches

[large text: On Writing Characters Using Canes vs Crutches]

This is a writing advice post that doesn't cover every single possibility because that's too impossible to try and do. It's simplified (!!!) to be coherent for writers who have little to no experience with these sorts of mobility aids, and I encourage anyone who wants to write a character using either of these to treat this post as a small part of a larger research process. This post will contain generalizations for the purpose of me wanting to actually finish it. This is writing advice, not medical information, nor something you should be applying to real life.

Please keep in mind that a lot of the disability examples will only be shown in a single category because otherwise this would be a comical block of text. So yeah, I know that a ton of conditions outside the "chronic pain" category also come with chronic pain, but I want this list to be actually easy to look through.

This will compare the cane (singular stick) to crutches (two sticks). Differences between a singular crutch and two canes will be at the end.

Canes

[large text: Canes]

The most primitive mobility aid that's out there. A wrist-height stick with a handle. You hold it in your hand (at a rather natural angle) and that's mostly it - it's meant to follow a standard (left leg forward, right arm forward) gait and be a support meant for generally milder mobility issues. A cane can take up to 25% of body weight, so like half of what a leg does.

As a TLDR, here's what they could be:

One leg unable to bear the entire weight (but not completely unable) - this could be a result of a problem anywhere from the bottom of the foot all the way to the hip.

Milder balance problems - largely neurological, so either a condition that affects the brain, the spinal cord, or the nerves in the leg. There are also some autoimmune, respiratory, and cardiovascular causes as well, plus a few more.

Back/trunk problems, most commonly pain.

To use a cane you need two legs, most people who use canes for leg reasons will have a “good leg” and a “bad leg”. If this is the case, you'd typically hold the cane on the good leg side, as that redistributes the weight - and pain - between the bad leg and the cane.

The good leg needs to be able to bear the whole weight comfortably, the bad leg needs to be able to bear, at the very least, half of the weight. If the disability affects legs to the point where either:

both have problems weight-bearing;

one can't bear weight at all (e.g., amputation, flaccid paralysis, pain too severe);

then two crutches (or other mobility aid, like a wheelchair) would be the move. The cane doesn't replace an entire leg and is meant to be a minor support.

Examples of what would cause someone to use a cane:

Monoplegia or hemiplegia that is spastic (rigid) in the leg. This could be a result of stroke, traumatic brain injury, cerebral palsy, multiple sclerosis, nerve damage, Brown-Séquard syndrome, polio, encephalitis, transverse myelitis, progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy, alternating hemiplegia of childhood, hemiplegic migraines, or being a hemispherectomy survivor. And many more things.

Chronic pain; arthritis, hypermobility spectrum disorders, chronic patellar instability, h-EDS, neuropathy, peripheral artery disease, past injuries (e.g., broken foot that healed incorrectly), systemic lupus erythematosus, joint replacement, chronic bursitis, and a lot more.

Relatively minor fatigue - most fatigue disorders will be on a wide spectrum, and people's symptoms often vary a lot. But a cane could help with fibromyalgia, Charcot Marie Tooth disease, POTS, scoliosis, severe kyphosis/lordosis, COPD (and other respiratory conditions), or milder forms of CFS/ME. Someone undergoing chemotherapy (or taking some other fatigue-causing medication) could also use one.

Muscle conditions, which are an even bigger spectrum. Spinal muscular atrophy type 3 and 4, early Limb-Girdle muscular dystrophy, tibial MD, Becker MD, or early myotonic dystrophy type 2 can all be reasons to use a cane. Keep in mind that these have drastically different presentations from person to person, and it's not entirely unusual for two people with the same kind of muscular dystrophy to use very different mobility aids (e.g., a tilt-in-space powerchair vs ...no aid at all). These are just the ones where I'm aware of a person who 1) has it, 2) uses a cane, even if it's not the most common aid.

Prosthetic leg on one side; usually below knee (high level amputees will more often go for crutches, even if they use a prosthetic).

The second biggest reason why people use a cane is balance. For this the cane can be held in either hand; some people have a preference, generally for the non-dominant hand for convenience - although many people with balance problems will also have a coordination disorder that might make using their non-dominant hand too difficult. Some people will switch the side they hold it on.

For a lot of people with balance problems, a cane might be the aid they use at home, and use a rollator or a wheelchair outside.

A good cane for balance purposes is a quad cane - it has four legs at the bottom and offer more stability than the single point equivalent. However, the larger base might also mean that for some people it can be easier to hit it with their foot, which ranges from annoying to dangerous.

Examples of disabilities that affect balance;

Many of the things included in the first section - primarily those that directly affect the brain or nerves.

Conditions that cause vertigo - again, many of the same things as before because a lot of them tend to originate in the brain. So other than aforementioned meningitis or stroke and the like: Ramsay Hunt syndrome, migraines, basically any sort of brain damage, POTS, Meniere's disease, labyrinthitis.

Respiratory problems, like chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, severe asthma, or lupus.

Coordination disorders - again, a lot of overlap with aforementioned disabilities, so I'll skip to things I haven't mentioned yet. Ataxia could be caused by a lot of things; some include the Chiari malformation, ataxia-telangiectasia, Friedrich's ataxia, Parkinson's, brain tumors, or Niemann-Pick disease. Dystonia is usually a primary condition rather than being caused by other things (although it can be!). Dyspraxia is also a coordination disorder generally milder than ataxia, and canes can be potentially helpful for it as well.

As mentioned before, some coordination disorders will affect the upper limbs as well, and it might be too difficult to use a cane. For disabilities like Huntington’s disease, or ataxia that significantly affects the hands, rollators and wheelchairs tend to be more helpful.

Anything that causes the person to fall. Fall risk is the primary reason people use canes.

A cane can also be used for back/trunk issues. One can lift off some weight of the body from above the Problem by putting the weight on the arm instead. I have really severe kyphosis as well as (partial) trunk muscle atrophy/coordination problems and quite literally can't straighten my back for more than a few minutes at most - my cane allows me to do that more easily and without needing to think about it as much.

Examples of some conditions that cause that include;

sciatica;

degenerative disk disease;

past spine injury;

scoliosis or severe kyphosis/lordosis.

In my experience, you need fairly good arm strength to use a cane comfortably. For people with more significant weakness in upper limbs, rollators tend to work better.

Grip strength is also important; there are canes designed to mitigate this (the platform cane/crutch comes to mind) but they're not the most common because often (not always!) when someone has this issue they already require a larger mobility aid.

Canes are often a "starting" mobility aid, i.e., a person starts using it at first but later transitions to using something else as their disability progresses (or they realize that it wasn't adequate in the first place, it mostly happens with slowly progressive conditions - when they decide to get a cane, it's often just too late). A cane can be useful at the very start of an onset of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, but it's basically worthless beyond that.

Similarly (kind of), a cane can be the "smaller" mobility aid for someone who uses multiple of them at the same time. Someone dealing with fatigue could use a cane at home, but need a rollator for going out, or a wheelchair for longer trips. Another person could use a cane when going out with a prosthetic leg on, but use a wheelchair or crutches at home when not wearing the prosthetic.

Crutches

[large text: Crutches]

These are more complex and provide more help. Crutches directly affect your gait depending on the exact disability, and take away both hands. They can potentially take up to 100% of body weight for parts of the walking cycle if you have good upper body strength and balance, and 50% otherwise (so, one good or two half-good legs still required).

Crutches are used for a lot of things (realistically too many to cover here) so I'll just go with the main categories that encompass most of them.

A) Both legs can't fully bear weight;

The same things as in the cane section, but present on both sides rather than one.

Hypotonia; can be caused by thousands of things. Some include Down syndrome, Tay-Sachs syndrome, achondroplasia, being born prematurely, brain damage, and congenital hypothyroidism.

Paraplegia that's low-level and/or incomplete, or quadriplegia that's incomplete. Quadriplegia is a huge spectrum as well, and it will depend on the amount of strength and flexibility that the individual person has in their arms and hands.

Bilateral amputation with prosthetics. (Someone who can bear weight no problem but has a milder balance problem could use a cane instead.)

B) One leg can't bear any or a lot of weight;

The same things as in the cane section, they're basically all on a spectrum, so some people choose a cane and others choose crutches.

Unilateral amputation, or congenital limb difference.

Limb length discrepancy where it doesn't touch the ground or barely does so.

C) Significant balance issues;

Same things as for canes, but either more severe or just someone's personal preference.

D) Back/trunk pain;

Same as C).

Additional note based on things I have seen: you can't use crutches if you have no legs and no prosthetics. You can't walk literally just on crutches. You need at least a single leg or prosthetic.

(Yeah I'm aware that there's probably a guy somewhere who does tricks where he does exactly that for a short video. That's Crutches Georg and he should not be counted because 99.9% of crutches users won't be doing that ever.)

Crutches will provide much more stability and relieve more pressure than a cane, but there is a wide range of the amount of support depending on how they are utilized.

What the disability is can actually present itself in the person's gait - there are a few main ones that are associated with crutches;

Four-point. The two legs and two crutches work as four different points of support, and three of them are in contact with the ground at any time. A lot (not all!) of people who use it will use crutches full-time and/or not be able to stand without them. The most stable and the slowest out of all of these.

Three-point. Probably the one most people have in mind when thinking crutches? The crutches both move at the same time, along with the bad leg, then the good leg follows. This is the "broken leg in a cast" way of walking.

Two-point. The closest to how non-crutch users generally walk. It's like having a cane on each side; left crutch forward, right leg forward. Fairly fast.

Step-to. The crutches work as one point of contact, and the legs as the other - both of each will move forward at the same time. In the step-to, a person puts their feet at the crutches' height. Fairly fast as well.

and step-through. I'd say the most difficult, least stable, providing the least amount of support. The same as in step-to, both crutches go forward before both legs, however here the legs get swung through them while the person is only holding up on crutches. This is the fastest that it gets, and can definitely be faster than an abled person walking. You can run quickly like this.

If you have issues visualizing them, there are a lot of great demonstrations on YouTube that you can look up for clarification.

There are a lot of subtle differences in which one people end up using, but as a rule of thumb, the more balance they lack, the more points of support they need. To provide some examples;

a person with quadriplegic cerebral palsy might lack balance and coordination, so they might use a four-point gait.

A person with one-sided tarsal tunnel syndrome can walk with a three-point gait, as it can be used to mitigate weight-bearing fully or partially - if the pain gets worse, they can just... not touch the ground with that leg.

A person with incomplete thoracic spinal cord injury could also work with a three point gait, though they would put both legs on the ground. If someone has good strength in the arms and trunk, they can get both crutches in the front along with one leg, then try to get the second one to go forward as well. This is how a lot of crutch users with a disability affecting two legs, but with decent balance and upper body strength, walk.

A person who had a traumatic brain injury and now experiences balance problems but not as much leg issues could opt for a two-point gait. It does help with weight redistribution, but primarily provides a lot of balance.

Both step-to and step-through are primarily used by single-leg problem havers (like unilateral amputees) in my experience, but I've seen people with diplegia or incomplete low-level spastic paraplegia use it too. You need very good balance and good upper body strength. I've seen dudes do backflips and ride skateboards on crutches like this. You can run as well and be way faster than you think.

The same as canes, crutches require arm strength. The more you're looking to take away from the legs, the more will go to the shoulders. If someone doesn't have the needed arm strength, a rollator will be more helpful. Walkers not so much as they still require some strength to turn.

More Direct Comparisons

[large text: More Direct Comparisons]

The differences between pain and fatigue levels might be somewhat evident from comparing the sections above - to generalize the subject as much as possible: the bigger the pain or the fatigue, the higher possibility of using crutches over a cane is. They provide more relief for both, as well as providing more balance.

Now, there's always exceptions. Someone might not be able to use two sticks, because of a disability affecting one of the arms - hemiplegia is a common example. In this case, the person could prefer to use a single crutch rather than two. They could opt for platform crutches, which don't require as secure of a grip. They might need a rollator instead. They might have a powerchair that they operate with their good arm.

Another thing is that some people will use crutches even if a cane would work just as well. Some people like the grip more, or find them easier to use. They could also like that crutches are seen as more medical than a cane, which could be seen as a fashion accessory. Maybe they can be faster on crutches than with a cane (e.g., if their disability is limited to a single leg, getting it out of the walk cycle might be more convenient) and that matters to them.

And to go with this, some people just don't like crutches! I personally don't like the forearm cuff because I tend to swing my wrist around with my cane rather than hold it perfectly straight, so the cuff seems annoying. For someone else that could be more than a preference, e.g. if they have a limb difference that affects the length of their forearms to be much shorter - a person like this could prefer two canes.

As to what mobility aids are better for which disabilities, it's highly individualized, but to heavily generalize again: canes tend to be more helpful for relatively milder disabilities, and crutches for relatively more significant ones based on the amount of support they provide. But that's an oversimplification so simple that it's not really useful.

Someone with neuropathy in parts of their foot might find a cane completely sufficient, but it wouldn't be as useful for someone with nerve damage that caused flaccid paralysis from the hip down; they would probably prefer crutches. But then again, someone with mild vertigo could use crutches because they prefer them (even if a cane would work just fine) while someone else might have incomplete C6 quadriplegia and use a cane with leg braces over crutches because they enjoy having a free hand.

For more similarities between the two; overuse injuries can happen to both cane and crutch users, generally in the shoulder(s). They're not very common unless you're putting more weight on them than you're supposed to. They're very annoying because it drastically tanks your mobility until they get better (unless you can walk without them just as much that is), but they're treatable with physical therapy.

Now for the two canes and a singular crutch. Let's start with the fact that the latter is infinitely more popular than the former. It's basically the same as a single cane but more supportive; it's good for people who need more balance than a cane provides but can't use both hands. Two canes is very rare and I can't tell you what the actual pattern of choosing them over other options is outside personal preference because I have no idea.

The general conclusion of the post is that crutches and canes really aren't that different, and are more of a spectrum of usable sticks by the amount of support they provide to the user. That's why often you'll see canes and crutches listed as the same thing when it comes to "management of XYZ disability" type resources - for a lot of them they're rather similar in practice, especially when compared to rollators, walkers, scooters, or wheelchairs.

I hope this was more in depth and therefore more helpful, if this still leaves you with some unanswered question feel free to reach out again.

mod Sasza

[singmyaubade]

Forget-Me-Nots

James Potter x Female!Reader

A/N: Hi there! I haven't written in a while, but this idea just struck me, and because I've been struggling with writer's block, I really needed to write it. In a way, it's my salvation. This is the first series I am starting, but I will be finishing and starting others.

IB: The Other Zoey by Sara Zandieh. (This movie so good by the way).

Summary: James could never forget a love like yours.

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

There were three things that you couldn't stand.

One was really cold classrooms, which not only made you sleepy but also made it difficult to concentrate on your studies. As a result, you started carrying a jumper with you everywhere you went.

The second was being sick; you detested missing out on opportunities and activities due to circumstances beyond your control, as well as how awful it would feel and how little you could do about it.

Three was crying,

Since fifth year, the idea of crying had both repulsed you and made you dislike how vulnerable everything was, as well as when someone felt sorry for you.

Of course, others could cry in front of you and you would give them comfort but you didn't want people to see you in pain and you making it everyone else's problem.

It wasn't right in your book.

But those were the three things you absolutely despised. They were all simple things you could avoid if you truly tried and you had for years.

But if we wanted to add a bonus point,

You would add James Fleamont Potter.

Quite ironic to hate "The Golden Boy,"

It was one of the most funniest cliches that even you could think of.

The girl who basically had no friends or social standing versus the most popular guy in Hogwarts.

Sounds about right.

But the reason that you couldn't include this in the things you couldn't stand is because it was complex. It wasn't simple and it wasn't something that you could easily describe nor avoid.

You couldn't say that you weren't being immature but what James had done had completely indescribably affected you.

To be fair, it was in fifth year and you were now on your seventh year which means the hatred is pre-historic but when 'The James Potter' cheats on you with Jade Davies AKA the girl you despise that has bullied you since first year,

It gets pretty intense.

Since then, you had refused to talk to James and he let you have your space.

Unfortunately, it didn't mean that Jade would stop bullying you but it only meant that she had more material to bully you with but James did his best to help you avoid her by distracting her when you came by or kissing to distract her.

But you weren't thankful for his gestures, you wished nothing but a quaffle to be shoved up his ass in all honestly.

Then again, it was all so long ago and you wanted to let it go and just have fun for your last year.

Which is why you attended the first Quidditch game of the season.

You were practically freezing, hugging your cheeks with your palms. It was especially cold and you forget to bring another jumper to top over the one you had now.

There was loud cheering all around you as you heard a few chants for James as you saw him dive for the golden snitch.

At the same time, the quaffle came fast in the same direction, colliding with James's head.

He went into instant unconsciousness as he was about to dove straight in the ground.

The crowd went silent as James fell in the air but it felt like he was already moving in slow motion.

Your instincts kicked in as you stood and grabbed your wand from your boot "Arresto Momentum!" You yelled, pointing your wand at him as his movements slowed and he hit the grass floor lightly.

You gasped as everyone watched you, their mouthes agaped but a small part of you only cared if James was okay.

You heard people yelling and whispers asking if he was okay and parts about how you had saved him.

But it wasn't your problem.

You grabbed your bag, moving from the stands as you made your way to the castle. Your feet rushed over to your dorm, trying to make it there as fast as you can.

"Y/N!" You heard someone yell as you looked behind you to see Lily.

You looked ahead of you, trying to rush faster and then Lily said, "You saved him," She panted as a few seconds of silence went.

"It wasn't intentional," You responded, rolling your eyes.

"But you did it instantly," She replied, "You saved him," She looked at you as if she was trying to figure you out.

You stuttered, "Y-You said that and shouldn't you be with him?" You questioned, trying to keep your composure.

"You should come with me," Lily said.

"No, that's a bad idea," You declined, "Jade should already be with him," You cleared your throat, setting your book bag on your shoulder again.

"They aren't together," Lily mentioned, "He wants to see you,"

You raised your eyebrow in confusion, why would James want to see you?

"Lily I don't think-" You tried,

"You must!" Lily responded.

"But-" You tried again.

"You have to," Lily sternly said.

"If I do, will you leave me alone?" You asked, her face lighting up as she grabbed your arm dragging you into infirmary.

You both entered the infirmary, surrounded by hospital beds. You looked around at other sick students as Lily dragged you over to where James was laying.

Sirius, Peter, and Remus were around him, quietly talking as you approached him.

He had a harsh, purple bruise on his temple that was the size of your hand and a bandage wrapped around his head.

"James, I got her for you," Lily said as James groaned, blinking to take a good look at you, his eyes still squinting from the light and how much his head hurt.

"Baby," He sweetly said, a wide grin appearing on his lips as he squinted.

Baby.

He hadn't called you that in so long.

You flinched, trying not to show how taken aback you were in order to not freak him out but you were. You looked at the three boys in front of you but they were equally confused too.

"Potter, have you lost your-" You said as Lily elbowed you, earning a hiss from you.

"Play along," Lily mouthed, making you even more confused.

"But-" You were about to speak before Lily pushed you in front of James.

"Um, are you okay?" You asked, looking at him awkwardly.

"I'm amazing now that you are here," He said, smiling.

"Oh that's great!" You fake excitingly said.

"I missed you so much," James took your hand, rubbing it as your face was hit with surprise, "I heard you in my dreams," He dreamingly smiled.

"That's nice," You awkwardly laughed, "You should sleep, your head is probably pounding," You said, patting the back of his hand as he only caressed yours.

"Stay with me?" He asked, drifting into drowsiness.

You looked around at his friends as they urged you to say yes, "Sure," You sighed.

James's eyes closed as you laid his hand next to him on his bed. You watched at how pretty he looked sleeping, his eyelids fluttering but that was before you snapped into reality.

"What is going on?" You asked sternly, crossing your arms.

"Well," Sirius was about to start but Remus continued for him.

"James had called your name on the field after you performed that spell for him," He explained, making you blush, "And he wouldn't stop calling your name until the nurse gave him a drowsy potion,"

Your eyebrow raised, why was James Potter calling for you out of all people? You couldn't help but question the entire thing.

"And why was he calling my name?" You asked.

"We don't know," Lily answered.

"Well, I can't be with him when he wakes up," You said, looking off.

"You have to," Sirius answered, "Prongs can't be stressed out, it will only worsen his brain and he will end up like a pound of sausage," He said, confusing you.

"Great analogy but I really should be-" You started as you were interrupted.

"James!" Jade yelled dramatically, running over to him, "Oh will he make it?" Jade asked, fanning herself as the group rolled their eyes.

"He will be fine," Remus said.

"But I think seeing you will make it worse," Sirius added with a smile.

Jade scowled at him before looking at you, "What is she doing here?" She furiously said.

You were about to speak before Lily did it for you, "He called for her,"

"No he didn't," Jade laughed, dismissing the ridiculous thought.

"But he did," Peter said as Jade has a disgusted look on her face.

"Well I'm his girlfriend so I'm sure he will want to see me," Jade boasted as if she only cared about the label and not the fact that James had truly gotten hurt.

"You guys have been broken up for six months," Sirius scoffed.

"I would prefer on a break," Jade corrected, glaring at Sirius.

"Okay well, this has nothing to do with me," You said, trying to move past Jade but she blocked you.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jade asked.

"Moving out of the way so that you can coddle James and kiss his boo boo's away," You mocked.

"Honestly, I keep forgetting that James chose me over you, it's actually quite hilarious," Jade smirked as you rolled your eyes.

"Congrats on being easy, it's one of your best accomplishments," You insulted, trying to move past her but failing once again.

"Nice of you to assume that James was only with me because I'm "easy," She gaped, causing you to step back.

"Seriously bugger off Jade," Sirius defended.

Jade kept going, "Or are you sure it's not because I'm better than you in everything I do and that James couldn't stand to be with you for another second with your daddy issues and a failure at everything," She aggrieved.

Your eyes watered as Madam Pomfrey came in, "Oh Mr. Potter must have a lot of admirers," She joked as you only smiled in return, "Which one of you is the famous Y/N?" She asked, looking between you, Jade, and Lily.

You spoke, "I am,"

She smiled at you, "He had been calling you for ages, what a beautiful girlfriend he's got,"

"I'm actually not his-" You started but the nurse kept going.

"Mr. Potter will be fine but a few things are jumbled in there" She said, checking his vitals, "It's best if he isn't stressed out or confused because it could only make matters worse," She finished, looking at all of you.

You all nodded in reply, "Other than that, he is good to go tomorrow morning but he can only have two visitors tonight," She mentioned, exiting.

"Y/N, you should stay with him," Peter said shyly.

"I don't think-" You started before you were interrupted.

You were getting tired of being interrupted.

"No, James would wanna see me," Jade almost yelled.

"You will only give James more brain damage, Y/N stays," Lily spat, clearly annoyed by Jade.

Jade huffed, "I will be back in the morning," She stomped away.

"We'll leave you to it," Remus said as Sirius smirked, leaving with the group as Lily squeezed your shoulder before exiting too.

You sat on the chair next to James's bed, wondering how you got in this situation in the first place.

And then you wondered how you would get out of it.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity; snippets of navigating fifth year with Fred Weasley

series masterlist

based on a request from ages ago. its a little choppy, but bare with me, ive just suffered the worst bout of writer's block ever😓 (i'm actually so sad that i've neglected serendipity so much but im back and i have so many wips to share with you all!!!!)

pairing(s): fred weasley x fem!reader, brief theodore nott x fem!reader (platonic)

Hogwarts doesn't feel the same anymore. The usual air of magic had been snuffed out with each imposing rule that was nailed to the Entrance Hall walls. There is no more laughter in the corridors, no more soft chatter from the figures inside the magical portraits; instead the repetitive notes of Professor Umbridge's sugary sweet tone rattle over deafening speakers.

All boys and girls must remain eight inches apart from eachother.

There will be no house fraternising during meal times.

Talk of any unauthorised groups will be met with adequate punishment.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

That last one still haunts you in your peaceful moments.

It's the reason you sit on one of the uncomfortable plush seats in Professor Umbridge's office, a cursed black quill clenched in your harsh grip as you write out those very words, the familiar cursive of your own handwriting etching painfully into the skin of your non-dominant hand. She was smirking at you under the guise of sipping lengthily from her pink teacup, watching as the tears steadily building in your eyes finally spilled down over your cheeks, which were flushed red from the pain.

How had you found yourself in this predicament exactly?

You were made a prefect at the start of the year, alongside Hermione and Ron, which you'd found out when you got your letter detailing which books you would need for your fifth year. You remember the pride written across your parents' faces and how elated you had been to be given such a prestigious role, one that many Ravenclaw students in your year wanted just as badly as you. It was a revered spot after all. Everyone was elated for you, but none more so than the oldest Weasley twin.

"Are you going to give us unlimited leeway with pranks now that you hold such a position of authority, gorgeous?" Fred's husky voice joked in a whisper as the two of you sat at the dining table during the small party that Molly and your mother had set up in celebration for the three of you.

"Are you asking me to take advantage of my new position, Weasley?" You ask, a small smirk making its way on your face as you fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks at his sudden closeness.

All summer, he had been flirting with you. At first you put it down to his lack of contact to the outside world and you laughed at his well-timed jokes and played into his flirtations with rebutting jokes of your own.

But then one night, when you flirted back daringly, he kissed you. He actually kissed you. It wasn't your first kiss. No, that went to Harry in a random game of truth or dare back in second year (something you both agreed was wrong on so many levels; it was never discussed by any of you again). But this kiss with Fred felt incredible and it cemented a closer bond with the older twin, whose brilliantly blue eyes sparkled with something more whenever he stared at you after that moment.

He'd rewarded your achievement later that same evening, after the party, behind the closed door of your temporary bedroom, leaving you smiling and giddy for the rest of summer. It's what prompted Ginny and Hermione's loose bet as to how long it would take for the pair of you to get together officially.

Your elation lasted until the very moment you stepped into the Prefects' Carriage and found out who you'd be partnered up with for the year.

Theodore Nott. Notorious for his aloof attitude as well as his surprising intellect that rivalled Hermione's. He was part of Riddle's group, one of the most popular groups in school, possibly trumping even the Golden Trio. But because he was part of Riddle's crew you had learned to hate him just a little – his teasing remarks towards your friends, especially Ron, always sent you into a spiral of brewing animosity.

So when Alicia Spinnet, who had been given the prestigious role of Head Girl, announced that she was pairing you with him, you cast her a look of utter betrayal, which she vehemently ignored.

You did not speak to Nott for the entire time you were meant to familiarise yourselves with eachother, and he made no effort either; grey eyes misted over as if he wasn't even part of the present conversation altogether. Gods how you despised him.

~∞~

Upon returning to your original compartment, following slowly behind Ron and Hermione, Fred had immediately seen your crestfallen look.

"What's up, gorgeous?" he asked from his seat by the window, ignoring Ron's faux gagging at the nickname. He'd also moved further into the corner to allow you the space to sit down.

You thanked him with a quiet smile before sitting down with a sigh.

"Alicia paired me with Nott for prefect rounds. How unfortunate is that?" You mumble, resting your head dejectedly against his burly shoulder.

"You're joking?!" He says with wide eyes. "What the hell was she thinking?"

"I assume it was because Davies paired Parkinson with your counterpart, so you got paired with Nott as a consequence." Hermione said from the opposite seat. "The Ravenclaws and Slytherins in sixth and seventh year were paired together as well."

Yes that was an overarching trend that had seemed to stick over the years.

"Maybe it won't be too bad." Ginny says and you all turn to her in synchronised disbelief. "What? I've never seen Nott speak. Maybe that'll be a good thing. A mute partner is better than a snarky one."

"Just the thought of being in his presence makes me uncomfortable. Mute or not." You say quietly, so only Fred can hear.

"If he does or says anything to you, let me know yeah?" He replied with equal secrecy and you nod your head imperceptibly in response.

He lets you use his shoulder as a makeshift pillow when you find your eyes closing drowsily, brushing the loose hair that falls into your face and ignoring George's knowing glances.

~∞~

The very first round of Prefect duties was utterly boring and painfully long. You and Nott had patrolled the Astronomy corridor with lacklustre precision, both eager to get away from eachother's presence.

It was like this for a while, a few months to be exact, until you both became accustomed to the silence, to the point where it was actually bareable. No longer were rounds a labourous activity; you and Nott began to partake in small talk, to the most minute extent – in no way did this make you aquainted and in the daylight, you returned to steely looks and barely contained snarls of discontent, which was mirrored by your friends, and his. You barely noticed the extra attention that Voldemort's son seemed to be giving you as your friendship with Theo progressed at a steadily growing pace.

At your budding friendship with the Slytherin Prefect, Fred began showing up at the end of your rounds to whisk you away, never sparing Theo a glance. The two of you would wander the desolate corridors, hands interlocked as you spoke quietly and unhurriedly. You noticed that Fred, always grinning and never unnecessarily angry, would grow agitated in Theo's presence and you never understood why.

Until one night, when Fred was loitering at the end of your last corridor to patrol, Theo had said something that made you burst into pearls of laughter; his face had lit up with a delighted smirk at the sound.

Fred's face was stoic and so unnaturally like his usual cadence that it took you completely by surprise.

"Of course you're waiting here, Weasley." Theo had mumbled, mostly to himself, but Fred had bristled from where he was leaning against the wall.

"You have a problem with that, Nott?" He had snarled and you'd looked at him with widened eyes at the edge in his voice.

Eager to defuse the tension, you took Fred's hand and gave Theo a look that read 'stop being an arsehole', before leading the ginger boy away.

Theo had gone back to his best friend to report that Mattheo's suspicions were indeed correct: you had been learning Legillimancy and had unknowingly spoken to Theo without so much as moving your lips.

And Fred had no idea.

~∞~

This routine continued for you and Fred, leaving you at the butt end of George and Lee's teasing. You came to expect him to be waiting at the end of your rounds, where you would part ways with Theo before spending at least an hour in Fred's presence.

On some occasions when it was far too cold to continue wandering the hallways at night, he would tell you to go straight to the Gryffindor common room, where there would be a fire in the hearth and plenty of blankets to snuggle into.

On such occasions, Theo offered to walk you there, despite him not wanting to be anywhere near the lions' den. It was during these times where your friendship with him became cemented as pure and real. Your friends were surprised when you actively sought eachother out during lessons.

Fred hated your budding friendship, but he said nothing about it; it wasn't his place to undermine your friendships.

But it became hard to hold his tongue when Professor Umbridge unveiled her new Inquisitorial Squad, which Theo and his friends had joined in quick succession.

The Inquisitorial Squad was a massive hindrance for Dumbledore's Army. The lot of you had to be more vigilant with your timings for the meet ups in the Room of Requirement, lest you get caught out by these glorified prefects. The Inquisitorial Squad is how you ended up in her office in the first place.

You had been patrolling with Theo, who was complaining about how frustrating having magicless lessons was becoming in the lead up to ypur OWL exams (you'd felt guilty about the DA not including any Slytherins all year, and this further cemented that feeling), when Adrian Pucey and Professor Umbridge came waltzing around the corner.

"Good evening Master Nott." the Professor says warmly, before her gaze sweeps over to you and her beady eyes catch onto the flashy Prefect badge pinned proudly tp your chest.

"Miss Meadow, why are you out past curfew?" She asks with faux concern, mouth twisting with a sadistic smirk.

"Uh-" You look at Theo, who looks just as startled as you. "We're just about to finish our rounds, Professor."

Umbridge lets out a heinous giggle that grates on your nerve.

"Oh my dear, didn't you see the newest decree?" She asks, her face alight with victory when you shake your head. "I have no need for Prefects anymore. I disproved them as a group."

"Wha- Why?" you ask, disbelief painted across your face. Pucey smirks as he looks from you to Theo.

"The Inquisitorial Squad has overtaken that job, Meadow." He spits your name like its dirt on the bottom of his shoe. You share a look of alarm with Theo.

I knew nothing of this Meadow, I promise you.

He looks sincere and you believe him, word for word.

"This sheer display of disobedience cannot go unpunished." Her harsh giggle is the only sound that fills the corridor.

She hands you a detention on a silver platter and you go into it blind. You didn't know that Harry had been trying to protect you, Ron and Hermione from the same fate as him.

~∞~

She dismissed you with a delighted giggle after an hour of writing the same line over and over again.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

Your hand is throbbing from the pain, but all you feel is numb. You wander the hallways like a ghost, not bothering to pay mind to where you're walking, until you find yourself at the portrait of the Fat Lady leading to the Gryffindor common room.

"Password?!" Elizabeth says impatiently, as if she'd been repeating herself over and over.

"Gillyweed." You mumble and she finally takes in your appearance, completely forgetting to open the portrait hole.

"Oh my dear, are you alright?" She says, voice full of concern, and if she were able to, you're sure she'd reach a hand out and place it delicately onto your shoulder.

"'M fine, Elizabeth. Just need to sit down." You didn't realise how tired you were, but from the slurring of your words and the speed with which the portrait swings open, with no hesitation towards the blue and bronze tie donning your neck, you must be on the verge of collapsing.

Fred sees you first.

"Meadow? What are you doing here, gorgeous?" he asks, voice filled with concern.

"Don't know. But 'M really sleepy." You say and you grip at his arms with barely any strength, which he notes with wide, panicking eyes.

"Shit- okay, come on let's go upstairs."

He guides you slowly towards his dorm, ignoring his brothers and Hermione and Harry's looks of worry. He sees the blood dripping from your hand in the dim light of the room, which prompts him to usher you much faster.

He sits you on the marble of the ensuit bathroom, the cold of the tiles barely registers to you.

He's mumbling a series of healing charms against your hand, jaw clenching when the blood flow slows enough for him to see the culprit of your bloodlust.

"Did she do this to you?" He asks, his voice as low as a growl that has your thigh clenching at the tone.

"Technically," You start with a weak laugh, "I did this to myself. She told me what to write."

"It's not funny, gorgeous." He says with a frown that you manage to wipe away with a peck of your lips.

"It's fine, Freddie."

"No. It's not."

You can practically see the plans forming in his brain and the next day, a series of crazed birds are let loose in the Great Hall, all headed straight for the newly appointed Head Mistress, Fred's smirking face meeting her's with no hesitation.

His hand sports similar wounds to you by the end of the day and you patch him up in the same fashion that he did for you.

~∞~

You don't show up to your scheduled Prefect meetings for the rest of the year, and you avoid Theo in the corridors, much to your friends' delight.

His voice in your mind is the only point of contact that you have with your Italian friend, something you keep hidden from your friends, especially Fred.

You look sad, tesoro. He says from across the Great Hall, days after your first detention with Umbridge. You sit facing the Slytherin table beside Luna Lovegood, who looks between you, Fred and Theo imperceptibly.

I'm not sad. I'm bored.

Yes because I'm sure the Gryffindor table is just a delight to be seated at.

You scoff outwardly at his sarcasm.

"What're you scoffing about, gorgeous?" Fred's voice says from behind you. You sneak a look towards Theo, who seems to have engaged himself in a conversation with Riddle and Berkshire, not showing that he was just immersed in conversation with you mere seconds ago.

"Just thinking about all the ways I want to make Umbridge suffer." You say with an offhanded shrug. Luna giggles into the palm of her hand.

"I have plenty of ideas." He says with a smirk as he drags you from your seat and into the corridors beyond the Great Hall.

Professor Umbridge may have cast a cloud of sorrow over the magic of Hogwarts, but nothing could take away the fun you'd been having in the stolen moments with your best friend's brother.

Not even the fact that he was leaving prematurely. Certainly not after you convince yourself to share your growing feelings for him, to have that snuffed out by his secret declaration.

Your chance with him is taken from you as he and George sail away from Hogwarts with guffawing laughter at the sight of Umbridge's sour face. They're off to live their lifelong dream, taking your dreams with them.

The next time you see Fred is after you watch Sirius' body fall through the veil, mind and body too numb to process any and all of your feelings. You only reach out for Teddy in your mind, a comforting voice of reason for all you'd seen. Even the strangely beautiful sight of the thestrals, that were invisible only hours before, did not phase you.

You fell into Theo's comforting embrace the moment you were able to leave the Hospital Wing, Fred Weasley long forgotten at Ron's bedside.

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[hanjsquokka]

Tangled Earphones - [ Han Jisung ]

🩷 SYNOPSIS : Jisung doesn't remember the last time he had a crush but he does know that he definitely has a crush on you now, even though he's known you for less than an hour and hardly spoken ten sentences with you. He's never going to see you again after this but that doesn't stop him from falling head over heels for you. (part of valentines collab with @stayconnecteed )

GENRE : fluff, strangers to potential lovers

PAIRING : han jisung × fem!reader

CONTENT WARNING : mild cursing

WORD COUNT : 3K

This was probably the first time Jisung honestly hated his job. Well… maybe hate is a strong word. Sure, composing is fun, maybe a little frustrating — but he never hated it. Sometimes writer's block made him want to drive his head into a wall. But he never regretted becoming a composer. Okay, maybe he didn't hate composing. He hated the current artist he was working with. What a pain in the ass. Even though Jisung clearly told him he'd work on it after a few days, the guy seriously had no chill! Because of that, Jisung had to take a different bus to Tongyeong without his friends. A trip he'd been waiting anxiously for nearly a month. It was the first trip to finally make it out of their group chat.

His friends from college planned a week at the scenic town for a reunion since it had been a while since they've spent time together. Like the good old days. They would go on hikes, maybe relax at the beach and have fun. Jisung missed those days where the eight of them would live in a dorm and make ramen at three in the morning, their midnight car drives as soon as the oldest of their group, Chan, had gotten his license and taken them out. Jisung missed them so much. He's never been the same since then. Those guys changed his life. Then, it was never the same thing every day. Now… it was the same old routine — wake up, go to the studio, go back home and sleep. He was excited to find that small spark again with them.

But life didn't work that way for Jisung.

Luckily, there was an early morning bus and he managed to book the last seat available. Early morning meant a grumpy Jisung because he absolutely despised waking up before the sun did. In his opinion, it should've been illegal. It gave him flashbacks to college when his gym-crazy friend Changbin used to drag him to workout and strengthen his core. Why Jisung needed core strengthening when he was a music major student was still a question to him. It was still dark when he arrived at the bus depot. After enquiring about his ride, he had to go wait along with the rest of the passengers.

With his earphones blasting music, he waited on the cold metal benches for his bus to arrive with his leg bouncing anxiously, looking at all the texts in the group chat from all the other guys. It looked like they had a lot of fun since his phone was blowing up with blurry selfies and shaky videos of them. Jisung was typing a reply when he caught a whiff of lavender drift past him. His head shot up, only to be met with the back of a girl's head. For some strange reason, his heart sped up a little.

Then he caught a look at your face when you turned around as an employee spoke to you. Goddamn. His ears turned red as he continued staring at you. Even though he couldn't take his eyes off of your face, some part of him registered the ACDC shirt you were wearing over sweatpants and the beaded phone strap around your wrist as you waved your hands around while you spoke. He couldn't pull his eyes away until an announcement came over the speaker of his bus’ arrival. Between the clambering of the other passengers, Jisung lost you in the crowd.

With his duffle bag in hand, he made his way to the bus. In the outside air, his breath fogged out in front of him, his previous irritation of the early morning trip returning to him as he walked down the narrow aisle of the bus after the other talkative people eager to start their journey.

Jisung would've probably remained in a sour mood the entire four hour journey, earphones plugged in and staring out the window at the passing scenery if you hadn't gotten on the bus, immediately locking him in a trance again. Ba-dum. The lyrics of the song started to fade out, only the thumping of his heart rang in his ears as you drew closer and closer to where he was sitting. Could it be… that you were going to sit in the empty seat next to him? When you passed him, his chest deflated a little but you backtracked, looking at your phone and then at him. Your lips were moving, the pretty pink of your chapstick catching his eye as you said something, but he didn't hear anything.

Earphones!

He pulled them off, noise immediately filling his ears and he slightly cringed at it. “Your bag is in my seat.” You repeated for what it looked like the fourth time. His face burned red as he realized his overly packed duffle was indeed laying on your seat. Hastily muttering an apology, he got up and opened the overhead cabin to shove it up there, wishing he could do that to himself because clearly you noticed him staring at you like a creep. Once he got in his seat again, you sat down, your arm brushing against his, setting his skin on fire. “What were you listening to?” You asked softly, turning to him. Jisung stared at you blankly, feeling like a goldfish as his mouth opened and closed but no words came out. You chuckled. “You seemed so into it when I was speaking to you…”

“Chase Atlantic.” He managed to say, pushing his glasses back up as he looked at you. God you looked so much prettier up close.

Your eyes seemed to sparkle once he said that, a breathtaking grin forming on your face. He never ever wanted to erase that image from his mind. “Wow, I love Chase Atlantic too.”

“Really?” The normal Jisung seemed to be back in function because he was talking to her like he would with anybody else.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “They make up about ninety percent of my playlists along with Tate McRae and Kard.”

“Oh, I know Kard! They have that song uh…” He racked his brain. Don't make yourself a fool, Han Jisung. “Icky?”

“Yeah.” You nodded again.

The bus roared to life, pulling out of the bus depot and onto the road. The two of you fell into silence, the short-lived conversation about music artists died out. Jisung stared out the window, not knowing how to continue speaking with you in a way that didn't make him look like an absolute creep. Jisung wasn't a guy to like a person romantically very easily. He was quite reserved and valued the importance of his relationships with people. He wasn't one to go around and have one-night stands or flings because his heart didn't work like that. If Jisung loved, he would love with his mind, body and soul. He would place his heart in his hands, only to get hurt in the end because these days, no one seemed to want a heartfelt, serious relationship.

Plus, his job required him to spend most of his days hunched over a laptop in a dark room.

He doesn't remember the last time he had a crush but he does know that he definitely has a crush on you now, even though he's known you for less than an hour and hardly spoken ten sentences with you. You've caught him, with just a smile. A smile that Jisung was completely enamored with as he snuck glances at you every now and then as you texted someone. The darkness outside was actually helpful, he could see your reflection in the window. He didn't understand how it was possible for someone to look like a goddess wearing nothing but sweats and a t-shirt. You could probably make a trash bag the latest fashion trend.

The first hour of the ride was peaceful. Most of the passengers were asleep. He didn't dare sleep. No, if Jisung slept, he would drool and he would snore. He's had countless embarrassing stories from his friends and he'd rather not make a fool out of himself in front of you. Especially when he had to sit next to you for the entire bus ride. He took off his earphones to enjoy the quiet for a while, only to be met by soft humming coming from you. It looked like you were doing it unknowingly, your eyes focused on the book you were reading. Maybe you felt his gaze on you because you met his eyes, making him blush once again although this time, a pink hue overtook your own cheeks as well.

“Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing that.” You muttered apologetically, embarrassed that he had caught you humming to yourself.

“It's okay. I don't mind.” He tried to reassure you it was fine. When the awkwardness didn't seem to fade away, Jisung reached into the pockets of his black hoodie and pulled out a packet of watermelon flavored bubble gum. “Want some?” He asked, offering the open pack to you. You nodded, taking a strip and popping it into your mouth. Jisung followed suit and tucked the packet away into his pocket again. “Would it be awkward… if I asked for your name?” Can you not go three seconds without screwing up?

“It's Y/n.” You smiled at him, a genuine smile that eased his anxiety. When it came to you, he doubted every syllable the moment he uttered them. He was determined to make a good impression on you, though he may never see you again once these four hours were over. “What about you?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.”

You repeated his name. It sounded so much better coming from your mouth. He'd record it and play it again and again for the rest of his life. Honestly, he could listen to you say anything and still love it. Your voice was like a soothing melody for him. A tranquil tune that placated the raging voices in his head. “Are you visiting family?”

“A reunion with my college friends. I haven't seen them in a long time, so I'm pretty excited about it.”

“That's sounds really nice. I'm visiting my brother. He's always too busy with work so I make it a plan to stay with him for a week when I can.”

“Is he older than you?”

“Mhm. He used to be such a prick when we were kids.” Jisung smiled at that. He too was used to sibling rivalry. His brother and him never really saw eye to eye until they entered adulthood. “Things are so different now that we barely see each other.”

Jisung quickly learned you were pretty easy to talk to. The way you spoke about the topic, the way your eyes seemed to shine in the rising sunlight that was seeping through the windows — Jisung was sure he missed a few paragraphs of your ongoing conversation, too captivated by your mere existence beside him. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest that was swelling with affection the more the two of you bonded.

When the bus stopped at a rest stop, you were eager to get up and walk around for a while, claiming that you've always hated sitting in one place for too long. Surrounded by trees and the highway in front of them, you sipped on the canned coffee he bought in the store for the two of you. He couldn't help but chuckle as you swung your legs back and forth on the picnic table top you were sitting on while he sat on the bench and looked up at you with the goofiest smile on his face. He was down bad and he knew it. How had you captured his heart so easily? And it wasn't like you were trying to. That was the beauty of it. You were merely being yourself and that was enough for Jisung to fall head over heels for you.

Jisung was going to make sure the tracks he was composing for that artist he was angry at earlier were his best works to date because if it weren't for that guy's impatience, he would've never met you.

“Shit… my earphones.” You nearly turned your handbag upside down when the two of you were back on the bus after stretching your legs.

“Did you lose them?” He asked, looking on the floor.

“No… I haven't used them all day. I think I left them at home.” You frowned.

Jisung had an idea. A terribly brilliant idea. This trick worked all the time in movies. If it could happen in movies, then Jisung could also make it happen in real life. “W-We could share mine? I-If you want t-to?” He stuttered out, fishing his forgotten earphones from his pocket, only to find them in the most tangled state he's ever seen them in. A blush grew on his face as he tried and miserably failed at untangling them.

“Let me try.” The simple contact of your fingers brushing against his hand sent jolts of electricity through his body. His gaze lingered on your delicate hands, the smoothness of you skin contrasted by the chipped purple nail polish on your fingernails and the single ring that adorned your left middle finger. You managed to untangle the earphones with ease. “And… if you're okay with sharing, then I don't mind either.” Maybe his brain was completely fried at this point, but he could've sworn you turned a little pink too.

“Cool! Uh, you can choose anything.” He opened Spotify on his phone and handed it to her.

Time flew by quicker than Jisung would've liked it to. His heart sank to his feet as they entered Tongyeong, the bus pulled up at the depot and stopped. He felt numb as people began deboarding the bus. All he could hear was his heart thumping in his chest. Was this it? The end to his little crush? It was highly unlikely he would ever see you again. Sadness was bubbling up inside him, clawing at his throat. He could barely choke out a goodbye as you left and hugged your brother who was waiting for you. Jisung's mind reeled at the intensity of the emotions he was feeling.

He couldn't get you out of his mind the entire week. Sure, he might have stalked you a little and found your Instagram handle, but it wasn't enough. He needed to see you. He needed to see the smile — face to face. He wanted to hear your laugh. He wanted to be the reason for your happiness. He wanted you. Because he liked you. The revelation made his brain hurt. He met you and fell in love with you within five hours. That had to be some kind of record right?

He tried to enjoy himself with his friends. But in every crowd, he was looking for your face. When they went hiking. At the beach. While wandering down the streets in the hot sun. All his efforts were in vain. It was like you never even existed. A fragment of his imagination. He was going delusional. The more time passed, the futher he believed it.

The bus ride home was going to be painful. Once he made sure his bag was secure in the overhead cabin, he slouched in his seat. When he reached for his earphones in his pocket, he found them in a tangled mess again.

“You know… you should start putting a rubber band on those.” His breath hitched. Ba-dum. Time slowed down as he looked up, only to be met with you, a knowing smile on your face as you sat down next to him. “Did you have fun on your reunion?”

His felt like a goldfish all over again. The connection from his mouth to his brain fried as he tried to give you a response that wasn't gibberish. “H-How?”

“What? Did you really think I was going to leave you behind like that?” His response only made your grin grow wider. “I was looking for you all around town, you know?”

“I was too…”

“Really? And here I thought you forgot me.” You chuckled.

“I don't think I could ever forget you.” He whispered, his heart going crazy in his chest as you leaned closer to his face. His throat dried up as he swallowed hard. Eyes unblinking, trying to calculate what you were going to say. “I think I like you Y/n.” He breathed out. “No... I know I like you.”

“I like you too.” You leaned even closer. “Now kiss me, stupid.” Let's just say Jisung was more than eager to oblige.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[1-800-cr33py]

WRITE A STORY WITH ERIC DRAVEN PLSSSSSSS

Of course, though I am going through a bit of writer’s and artist’s block, so i deeply apologize for the quality.

A/N: Angst w/comfort, reader is depressive, something quick might expand on this later though. Eric is…eric.

Hands a bit too cold to be considered normal traced the plain of your stomach, the skin warm beneath his calloused palm. Eric was many things, a murderer, spiteful, any name under the sun one could think of, but in the current moment he was envious. Envious of you, sleeping beneath the many blankets of his bed, practically a nest for the both of you now. He was envious of your warmth, your liveliness, your mortality. There may have been a time when he’d daydream of what his life could have been like in his older years, hair graying and fading and worn band tee shirts. But those days would never catch up to him, but you still remained. Fuck if you didn’t stay glued to his side. He remembers seeing you after he was brought back, the black tears staining your cheeks as you tried to look through him, trying to rationalize the sight before you.

You sat upon the brick wall of what was once a shared apartment, bottles and cans thrown haphazardly around the creaking floors. You, a husk of the person you used to be, in the middle of the mess, eyeliner running down your cheeks and eyes hollow, eyes once so full of life and contentment, now dull, sharp even. If his heart could, it would break at the sight of you. He stalked you from his shadows, not yet ready to face you. Oh how he longed to hold you, to remind you he’d take care of you like he promised so long ago, to simply feel your skin against his would be enough. But Eric remained still, continuing to watch you gulp down more cheap vodka like it was water. Erin grimaced, he didn’t like the sight before him. He saw himself lingering within your behavior, saw his influences in your mannerisms. You, none the wiser to his position before you, didn’t even jump when his footfalls fell upon your ears. Maybe you were to drunk, or maybe it’s because you were to far gone to care.

“ Look dickhead, I don’t know what the fuck it is you want but I-“ your cold remark was cut short, far to short with a familiar laugh, a laugh you hadn’t heard in over a year, actually thats a lie. It was the same laugh that had been haunting your nightmares for so, so fucking long.

“ Such harsh words from such a pretty girl, you kiss your mother with that mouth pretty? “ Eric drawled, nearing you. You, bottle just an inch from your agape mouth. There he was, face painted a sickly white and black smeared haphazardly across his eyes and lips. It was like time stopped, only the two of you existing at once. Eyes welling with tears, you stayed silent. What could you do? You were there when they put him into the cold hard ground, there to pick up Sarah when her mother couldn’t give less than a fuck about her. You. Eric, now squatting before you, searched your face, for any sign of emotion, emotion he didn’t find. You wanted to scream, to hit yourself and down the rest of the bottle, telling yourself you were dreaming, but you couldn’t. His cologne had long since faded from everything that was left behind, but here now you could taste it. Mouth gaping akin to that of a fish out of water, the bottle fell, clattering onto the floor as your hand reached to his face. Just a touch. Just something to tell yourself this was real, that he was real. With a trembling finger, you pushed the wet stray hairs from his painted face, moving to trace his jaw. He was real this time, a tangible thing before you blessing your teary eyes with a pained smile.

That was a long while ago, he’d yet to find a real reason to pass on yet, though the Crow had quit trying to urge him now. The night was young, though the city lights didn’t make it seem that way, still, you napped, curled underneath the blankets. Eric let out an audible sign, cold fingers mindlessly tracing shapes onto your skin. He’d give anything, anything at all, just to fully feel the true extent of your warmth again, the warmth he felt when he was alive, not just a walking corpse. Eric longed to be the softer man he once was for you, but he knew as well as you did, that man was gone. But for now, he’d be content with this, relearning and healing alongside you.

[lesbianpepsi]

would it be a sin if i stayed?

pairing: ghostface!sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you find out your girlfriend is hiding something from you

words: 3.120k

warnings: mentions of murders, gf!sam, knife, scream shenanigans, stab wounds, treating wounds, fear of cheating(?), swearing, bad writing

authors note: so it's been a minute huh, excuse the rusty writing i've been in pain and in a writers block

Everyone's entitled to their own secrets; there's nobody in the world that doesn't have at least one secret. 

Some people have small secrets such as not liking a certain food but saying they like to please the other person. Others don't have such sweet secrets.

The darkest secret you have is the fact you slit your ex's tire once after she cheated on you, it's not insanely dark or even cool, it's simply just a secret that you don't want people to know about.

Yet there's people in your life that hold such darker secrets, ones that could never be revealed to anyone; not even their most loyal loved ones. 

Unbeknownst to you that person is Sam Carpenter, your girlfriend of over a year.

—————

Me (17:29pm): i'll get started on dinner soon then?

Sammy<3 (17:32pm): Yes please. Hopefully I'll be done soon with my shift and can hopefully even help you a bit with the cooking! 👩‍🍳😊

Me (17:33pm): maybe i'll postpone for a bit then

Sammy<3 (17:33pm): No, start cooking. You need to eat and Derek is a bastard who won't let me off early anyways 😂😂

Me (17:34pm): fineeeee 

Me (17:34pm): see you soon then, love you <33

Sammy<3 (17:36pm): I love you too, Y/n ❤️

Me (18:12pm): i finished making dinnerrrr:)) 

Me (18:22pm): sammmm

Me (18:29pm): sam? 

Me (18:31pm): please answer me sam, where tf are you?? ik you finish your shift at six 

Me (19:06pm): Sam this isn't funny, please answer my calls.

You bite your bottom lip nervously as you reread over the messages hoping to see that small bubble pop up any second. 

Sure traffic was a reasonable reason to why Sam's late but she'd always message you after finishing her shift at work.

Sam's one of those people who never leaves the house without her phone being higher than 80%, meaning her phone being dead wouldn't explain it. She always made sure it had more than enough battery in case Tara or you called her and there was an emergency 

So why the fuck isn't Sam answering your texts? You can't help but worry after everything that's happened to the poor woman and her family with Ghostface. 

You've already tried calling her three times to no avail. Nervously you switch over to Tara's contact as your thumb hovers over the call button, debating whether you should ask her if she's seen Sam or not.

If Tara hasn't seen her and Sam is in fact just running incredibly late then you're just going to worry the younger Carpenter for no reason.

"Fuck." You mumbled to yourself as you lowered your thumb to dial Tara, deciding it's worth the risk.

Just as you're about to press down you hear the doorknob to your front door jangle, immediately you whip your head around to see Sam entering calmly.

You drop your phone and rush over to her throwing your arms around her desperately as you cling to her. 

Sam doesn't say anything as she slowly raises her hand to your back, rubbing it up and down slowly.

"Where were you, Sam? I thought something had happened." You say worriedly as you pull away staring into your eyes intently, noticing a glimmer in her eyes that you have never seen before. 

Her eyes looked darker, almost a lustful look in them. 

She sighed as she smiled apologetically. "Some girl puked all over the place so I had to clean it up so I wasn't done till six thirty, then my phone died so I couldn't text you."

You ponder for a second on the possibility of Sam's phone actually being dead since the messages and calls went through, meaning it would be impossible for her phone to be dead.

Biting your tongue you nod as you smile at Sam, just relieved to have her here. 

"Okay, glad you're safe then. I've made a plate for you so you just need to reheat it." Sam grins as she presses a quick kiss to your cheek making your ear burn just as they did the very first time they kissed you. 

"You're the best." She says and you chuckle giving a weak smirk. "I know right, the best girlfriend."

Sam pulls away from you as well, finally giving you a proper look of her. You tilt your head confused as you notice the baggy black hoodie she's wearing, practically devouring her and hiding her arms and upper body.

"You didn't leave wearing that this morning." You comment mindlessly as you grab the end of the sleeve, rolling your fingers around the soft texture.

Sam stiffens as she roughly pulls her arm away from your grip, crossing her arms over her chest. You frown at her abruptness. 

"It was in the trunk of my car." Sam replies dismissively with a wave of her hand before turning to enter your room. 

You remain where you stand a little frown toying on your lips. What was that about? You thought as you glanced at the doorway to your bedroom, the light being flickered on by Sam.

"I'm just gonna take a shower real quick then I can eat dinner and we can watch some movies?" You hear Sam yell from your room also hearing the erratic movement from her as you walk closer.

Leaning on the doorway you see Sam placing her phone, car keys and work badge on the dresser. 

"Want me to reheat your food for you?" You suggest with a smile. Sam nodded her head as she turned to face you, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead this time as she whispered, "I love you so much." before passing you and locking herself in the bathroom. 

A few moments later you hear the loud sound of the shower water hitting the bottom of the tub before it gets muffled by Sam entering the shower.

Against your better judgement you glance back into the room where Sam's phone is kept, the desperate urge to check it gnawing at you. 

You didn't want to snoop through it, no, you just wanted to see if she was lying or not. Which you basically already knew she was. 

You glance back at the bathroom door before rushing into the room to look at Sam's phone.

Reaching the drawer you picked up her phone and to your horror the movement of you picking it up lights the screen up. 


Sam's phone wasn't dead.

She lied to you. 

Sam wouldn't cheat on you, right? No, Sam would never. She loves you too much for that. 

Right?

Shaking your head in hopes of getting rid of those thoughts you place Sam's phone back into its original position, staring at it before leaving the room to reheat Sam's plate of food.

You trust Sam with your life and more and don't believe she's cheating on you since she's already quite possessive and protective of you after Ghostface. 

After placing the plate into the microwave you move back into the living room, dropping down onto the couch with a sigh as you wrap your fingers around the TV remote, pressing the on button.

The TV started up and immediately you were introduced to the loud male voice of the news reporter. You pulled out your phone and didn't pay much attention till you heard him utter a line that made your blood run cold.

"-two male victims stabbed to death near Parker Street, the police have no lead suspects as of now but a CCTV footage has been leaked showing the brutal murder and the killer wearing the infamous Ghostface costume."

Your eyes widened as you slowly lowered your phone, pushing yourself up the couch as you straightened your posture.  

Ghostface is back? It doesn't help that Parker street, that's the street where the bar Sam works at is at. 

"Sam!" You yelled and panicked as your eyes remained focused on the screen.

You could hear the shower stopping before moments later the door the bathroom being thrown opened and Sam rushes into the living room soaking wet with a towel wrapped around her body.

"What's wrong?" Your girlfriend asked as she moved to your side, holding your face with a possessive grip as she turned it to the side to see if you were hurt. 

You shake your head making her let go and nod towards the TV, Sam takes your hint and turns to focus on the screen.

She's silent for a moment, her breathing eerily calm as her eyes meet with yours.

"Ghostface is gone, we don't have to worry." She says as her hand glides into yours. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion as this is a total 180 reaction to how she reacted last time when Tara's classmate was murdered, and it wasn't even confirmed it was Ghostface at that time.

"Sam, the person was literally wearing a Ghostface outfit and two people were murdered on the same block where you work! This cannot be a coincidence." You rush out as you look down at your phone where it lay on the couch.  "We have to call Tara, Mindy and Chad. I'm not letting you all go through this again." You say as you grab your phone but you're stopped by Sam's hand wrapping around your wrist.

Looking up at her confused you see a blank expression on her face, not a panicked look you expected to see. 

"This is not our Ghostface, Y/n, calm down, please." Sam replies, moving her hand to interlock with yours with a tight grip.

Your jaw slackens as the crease between your brows gets even bigger. 

"A dude in a Ghostface outfit killed two people near where you work, Sam!" You insist on trying to make Sam notice how dire this situation is.

She shakes her head as she shuffles a bit closer, the droplets falling off of her and a few dropping onto you. 

"My Ghostface doesn't do random public killing, this is very out of character. It's probably just some psycho who's using it as a disguise, Y/n. It's fine. I'm safe, Tara's safe, the twins are safe and you're safe." You're speechless at Sam's smooth words, never hearing her so calm and confident. 

Last year she threatened to move countries instantly when it wasn't even confirmed it was about them. 

You let out a humourless chuckle as you shake your head. "And what did Mindy say when Tara was acting like you right now last year? It's a bit too close to home." 

Sam shakes her own head as she flashes a smile that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. "You trust me, don't you?" 

You let out a barely audible scoff as you nod your head at the question as if it was a stupid question to ask.

"With my life and more Sam." Sam's smile softens as she nods her head gently, as if knowing what you were going to say.

"So trust me on this, my love." She whispers, raising her wet hand to lay on your cheek lovingly. "Please." She adds in a whisper as her thumb runs up and down your cheek slowly. 

You maintain eye contact with Sam as you begin to feel yourself getting lost in her dark brown eyes, unconsciously nodding your head slowly.

Sighing you snap out of your trance as you smile weakly at her, squeezing your interlocked hands. 

"I trust you." 

—————

A few days have passed and the only person other than you who's showing concern over the murders is surprisingly Tara. The girl who was very adamant last year that this almost exact scenario wasn't related to them in any way.

You've been texting her non stop about your worries about the entire situation but you haven't said anything about your concerns about Sam. 

She lied to you, sure it was something very niche but with the timing of the murders; something just felt off. 

You have also noticed that Sam has been even more loving lately, not that she isn't always wonderful to you, but it's more than usual. 

You love the attention but you still can't help but feel that there's something wrong. 

It's a Saturday night and Sam's working the night shift again, you're not doing anything special so you decided to sleep in early. 

It's around two in the morning when you get awakened by a slam of the door, it immediately sprung you out of sleep since you've always been a light sleeper since the entire Ghostface incident. 

You rub your eyes as you slowly sit up, glancing around the room and notice Sam isn't in bed. 

Concern runs through your veins immediately as you push yourself off the bed to stand up, your feet hurting the cold floor as you move towards the door. Is it a complete dumb move to investigate the random loud noise? Yes, absolutely. But you can't help but think it's most likely Sam and maybe she's having another one of her attacks. 

"Sam?" You yell out softly as you open the door and glance around your small apartment, squinting your eyes to see better in the dark.

There's no sign of Sam but then you notice the light peeking through the bottom of the bathroom door. You definitely didn't leave the bathroom light on.

You head towards the bathroom door and go to open it but it's locked, you frown as your concern grows.

"Sam? Are you there?" You ask as you keep trying to unlock the door but to no use. 

A muffled grunt is heard through the door before you hear Sam's raspy voice. 

"Go back to bed, Y/n, I'll join you soon." Sam's muffled voice says as another low grunt is heard. That doesn't help your nerves at all.

You can feel your heart pick up a pace as you desperately keep trying to unlock the door.

"Open the door, Sam, please." You beg as you keep trying to open the door, shaking the doorknobs desperately. 

"No." Sam says sternly, making you shake your head at her stubbornness. "Sam if you don't unlock this door I swear I'll kick it down. Please open the door."

"No I-" Sam goes silent for a moment before continuing her words. "You can't see me like this, you'll leave me." 

"Sam I love you more than anything in this world, if you're hurt I want to see you and help you. Please." You say sincerely as you still your moments on trying to open the door, trying to show Sam how much you care for her. 

She doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity, your fear growing with each passing second as you swallow nervously. 

Then you hear it, the door unlocking but Sam doesn't open it for you. Immediately you throw the door open and scan your eyes to find Sam sitting on the edge of the bathtub wearing her usual grey tank top, tight black cargos and thick black boots with bruises and a singular stab wound on her arms.

Your breath hitches as your eyes widen dramatically, your fear about Ghostface attacking Sam again being confirmed. 

Sam refuses to make eye contact with you as she sloppily tries to patch herself up, wrapping a bandage around below her shoulder that's already staining with a ruby red shade.

"Let me help." You whisper as you move to stand in front of her knowing in the frenzied state Sam is in she wouldn't tend her wounds properly.

She finally looks up at you and you notice the look of pure fear in her eyes, it breaks your heart. 

Sam stiffly nods her head as she lets go of the dirty bandage and lets it fall gracefully onto the floor. 

You don't take notice of anything else around you as your entire focus is only on your bleeding girlfriend. 

As you focus on the slash below her shoulder you see that she's sterilised it and only needs help with bandaging it up.

You grab a new roll and gently hold onto her elbow for a grip as you begin to tightly wrap the bandage around her wound.

As you keep wrapping enough layers around your eye's unconsciously flicker over to the bathtub, and the moment you see the objects scattered inside you feel your heart drop.

A bloodied knife is peeking out through a thick pile of black which almost looks like a blanket but that isn't what catches your attention. The bloodied Ghostface mask thrown carelessly near what you presume is the cloak is what makes your heart come back to life and rapidly speeds up. 

Suddenly everything makes sense.

The lie about her phone being dead when it wasn't, coming home late and the very calm reaction to the murders.

Sam wasn't attacked by the Ghostface on the news; Sam is Ghostface. 

You can pull your eyes away from the hollow eyes of the Ghostface mask as you keep bandaging Sam's stab wound up, the feeling of shame making your throat tighten. 

Not ashamed of Sam but the fact you don't immediately want to run away. Call the cops or even scream. Instead you stand there as you treated her wound. 

"That's enough layers, Y/n." Sam's quiet voice breaks you out of your stare as you avert your eyes back to hers, stilling your hands as you lock with her brown eyes.

Oh those big brown eyes. 

Grief swirls around in her eyes as if she's already grieving your relationship; grieving her life. 

You take a deep breath as a shaky smile slowly forms on your lips making Sam's eyebrows scrunched together confused. 

"I'll never stop loving you." You whisper to her as you finish bandaging her wound up, dropping your hand from her elbow to place on her cheek. 

Sam leans into your touch laying her own cold hand over yours, looking up at you with a softer gleam in her eyes. 

"I'm not a bad person, I only hurt bad people I promise." Sam whispers in a gravelly voice. You feel some reassurance from that but what shocks you the most is the fact you're not sure if you wouldn't have minded if they were bad or not. 

Would it be a sin if you stayed with her? Probably. But killing is most definitely a bigger sin which only makes you think of one thing. 


You and her will still be together in the afterlife. 

"Let's go to bed, my love." You whisper as you offer Sam your free hand to take to help stand up. 

Sam stares at it for a moment before she complies and slides her hand into your hand, a small smile grazing her lips. 

Everyone has their secrets and who are you to share them with?

—————

authors note: i'd do anything for sam (i hate this so fucking much)

[scekrex]

YOU ASKED FOR MORE ADAM REQUESTS SO UH HERE I AM

so yk how adam knew angel dust was a pornstar when charlie mentioned his name. uh i have not been able to get that out of my head because he knew him by NAME it wasnt just like he passed by an angel dust billboard cause those are probably fucking everywhere and was like “cool” NO bro looked at it closely enough to know his name by memory— anywaysss what about adam x male reader whos a pornstar cause thats cool dhdkd maybe he sees an ad with the reader on it or something and gets intrigued 😋 anyways have a super silly day

I fucking adore you for that prompt bc the fact that Adam knew Angel by name was/is stuck in my brain too and I've been meaning to write pornstar!male!reader for a while, you simply gave me an actual reason to do so. Also the warmest, cuddliest hugs to @ultimateissuessimp who not only helped me to come up w a plot but also fixed my writers block xoxo to you bro.

Any way you want me, baby, that's the way you got me

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, smut, sex without consent (it's not Adam guys, chill), mention of sexual abuse, choking (with and without consent), unprotected sex, major character death (temporarily)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Your pimp massaged his temples and sighed, “Stop acting like a fucking picky whore, if you want your fucking money you'll do the job.” You crossed your arms over your chest, you were having none of it.

It had been a couple of years since you started doing what you did, it had been a couple of years since you had dedicated yourself to that fucking asshole who was trying to force you into something that was way outside your comfort zone. So you have learned to stand up for yourself, to say no. And usually that was fine because usually your clients weren't some snobby bitches with an ass full of money. This time your client was exactly that though, and that asshole of boss - at this point you were sure you could call him that - saw the money and nothing but the money. So a ‘no’ wasn't on the table for you this time as it seemed.

“Fuck you, I'm telling ya, I'm not doing that bullshit,” you told the man in front of you. He however simply grabbed your wrist and pulled you in, “You’re gonna drop that fucking attitude of yours right fucking now because you're gonna do it, if you want or not is irrelevant.” You huffed and ripped your arm from his grip, “Fucking fine, but if that whore breaks me it's on you.” At that your boss chuckled deeply as he gave your cheek a light pat, “Good boy.”

So there you were huh? In a room with some asshole you didn't trust the slightest bit.

It didn't take long for the man to not only undress himself but also to basically tear the fabric off your body - quite literally because your shirt was being ripped open and he yanked your pants down hard enough for the stitches to give out on it.

Your mind went blank after that, everything was just a hazy blur as you tried to get it over with. There were cold hands on your body, then you fell, the landing was surprisingly soft.

A scream filled with pain ripped from your throat as the man thrusted in, in, in until he was fully inside of you, no lube, no preparation. A hand was firmly pressed against your mouth and while probably not intended, he also covered your nose leaving you no way to breathe but you took it, what were you supposed to do? Say no? With that hand on your lips? Yeah, pretty impossible. You also doubted that the asshole would care about your wants. It all went down when his other hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed, he didn't even try to ask for consent, he just took what he wanted, maybe needed.

Your hands were on his wrists in an instant, your nails dug into his skin in order to try and push his hands off of you but to no result, he was stronger. And then the hazy blur faded to black.

-

When Adam read the news about his favorite porn actor being killed he was quite furious.

The news articles all stated the same, that some rich bitch had paid for a session with you - an recorded one on top of it - and had choked you to death. And on top of that the manager of you had published the video, hell Adam was even able to see you die at his hands.

The news articles also blamed you for not giving him any signals to stop, Adam thought that was bullshit. He had followed your porn career for a while now, he had seen interviews too, if only two - it wasn't like many people wanted to interview pornstars on a daily base - he knew you had this little rule about consent and therefore he knew you had given the man signals he just tended to ignore them.

“Can you fucking believe it, Lute?” he asked angrily as he held his phone in front of her face, on the tiny screen there was a news article about your death, a picture of your corpse covered by a white sheet was also featured. Lute looked at it briefly, then shrugged, “Who cares? Just another whore that'll end up in hell.” Adam put down his phone and grabbed Lute by her shirt, “Watch your fucking mouth, he wasn't like the rest of those disgusting sluts.” Lute just shot him a weird look and mumbled a quiet, “Whatever, Sir,” as Adam let go of her clothes.

-

When the world around you got bright you were confused, what had happened?

You found yourself in someone's office, the walls were painted white and there were golden accents to make the room seem less stirile. “Where the fuck am I?” you asked, visibly confused as three pairs of eyes stared at you, one of them was a small girl, she looked delighted to see you. Then there was a woman, you figured it must have been her mother or something like that, she offered you a small smile. The last one was the face of a man who seemed to be equally confused as you were at first, but soon his expression softened a little.

“Well look who we have here,” the man spoke and got out of his seat to walk over to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as he shot you a sharp grin.

“Welcome to heaven, Y/N.”

-

It took a good while for you to get used to the afterlife you were expecting, it looked like your beliefs had been with you and that God had decided to put you out of your misery and send you to heaven a little sooner than you had thought. Not that you complained though, the company was better than the people that had surrounded you on earth.

Adam and you had grown to be close friends in no time and soon after your bond had increased so much you had asked the first man out. He had agreed and so the two of you started dating.

He was surprisingly soft with you - was it really surprising though, given that he knew how you had died? No, not really. But it was nice that he accepted your ‘no’ without further questions - sometimes, when he was really into something you said no to, he sat down with you and talked it out, gave you all the options to stop whenever it got too much or you simply didn't like it. Consensual sex without fighting for what you wanted and didn't want was new to you, it wasn't something your former boss or former clients had ever given you.

But that all shattered when Adam requested something that really didn't sit right with you.

“Fuck no,” you exclaimed, and got up from the bed, “No choking, not after-” you cut yourself off, you weren't able to say it out loud, not yet at least, “No.” Adam sighed, he wasn't annoyed or frustrated, he was actually able to understand the situation you were in quite well. “Babes, I’m not gonna hurt you like that bastard did,” he explained himself while also giving you the space you needed, otherwise you'd feel cornered and that was the least thing he wanted you to feel in that moment.

You knew that, in the name of God, you fucking knew Adam wouldn't choke you unconscious and he most importantly wouldn't kill you again by doing so but it felt wrong to let anyone grab you by the throat with the slightest bit of force. “Adam,” you pleaded, your eyes begging him to drop the topic. Adam's body language softened and he patted on the bed, a nonverbal request for you to sit down again. You hesitated for a moment, then you sat down again.

His wing wrapped around you immediately and his arms pulled you to sit on his lap. His chin was resting on your shoulder as he softly spoke, “I’m not asking you to live through a full fucking session, I'm asking you to try it, to let me show you how it's properly done. You can always tell me to stop and I'll be off of you in an instant. I won't ask you to ever try it again if you don't like it.” The brunette's hands rested on your chest, one of them slowly moved upwards to caress your neck and acting out of instincts you leaned into the soft and warm touch of his.

You thought about it. You thought about it for a while and you came to the conclusion that Adam was right. Trying was okay, trying meant you were allowed to hate it. So you hummed in agreement adding a quiet, “Okay.”

-

Soft lips were kissing your throat and you tilted your head upwards to offer Adam more excess. The first man gladly took it as an invitation to leave hickeys on the soft skin of yours which earned him a throaty moan. “Someone’s fucking horny,” Adam grinned and pressed his palm against the slowly growing bulge in your pants. You immediately lifted your hips to chase the friction that was given to you, a deep groan was ringing through Adam's ears, fuck he could listen to the sounds you were making all day. “You’re one to talk,” you breathlessly countered and lifted your knee against Adam's crotch. The taller man's hips stuttered and his wings flapped in excitement at the newfound and unexpected friction. “Oh fuck,” he mumbled against your throat as his fingers clawed at your shoulders and his nails dug into your skin, the pain it caused was different than the pain men had brought you back on earth, the pain Adam was giving to you always felt so deliciously holy and you could drown in it.

You have had sex before with all kinds of men, rude and harsh ones, shy and soft ones, ones that took what they wanted and then left without the slightest thought of satisfying you. But with Adam it was different, Adam always made sure you were feeling as much pleasure as he was experiencing and if he were to get too caught up to jerk you off, he'd blow you afterwards.

Your fingers itched towards the hem of Adam's robe and pulled the soft fabric up until his lower half was exposed. “Get that stupid shit off, it's cockblocking us,” you growled with lust audible in your voice. That was something Adam was quick to do, he was always so eager to get undressed for you, no matter what, no matter when.

Once Adam's robe had hit the floor, your clothes were joining it in no time. Your naked bodies were pressed together, his lips never left your skin long enough for you to actually miss them, they were on you constantly. “Gonna fuck that brain out of your pretty head babes, it'll be all you will be able to think about for the entire week,” the first man whispered in a deep, aroused voice that gave you the most pleasant kind of goosebumps you've ever had and your body shuddered against his lips. “You gotta try real hard for that, you sure you can fuck me that well?” you teased, very much aware that, yes, he was able to do as he had just said, he had proven it before and he'd prove it again. “Watch it, whore,” he grinned up at you and then your nipple disappeared between his lips and another moan tore from your throat to let the first man know what an incredible job he was doing.

Back on earth you had disliked, maybe even hated the term. It was always used as an insult that was supposed to play down what you were doing but when Adam said it, it sounded like the most beautiful thing to achieve, to be called whore by Adam was something you took with pride, something that made your body heat rush to all the right areas.

“Nah,” you replied and even though it was more of a whine than an actual statement, you confidently continued, “You like it when I use my mouth and we both fucking know it.” Adam's wings twitched at the thought of you sucking him off and his eyes revealed that he liked the idea - not for now though, now you two had other plans. “Sure do, babes, sure do,” the brunette agreed as he reached for the bottle of lube that he had placed on the bedside table earlier.

That was also another thing you appreciated about the sex with Adam, while he made sure you were feeling that holy version of pain earth could never compare to, he was also gentle, well as gentle as someone like Adam could be. But he prepared you, always did, and he was the type of guy who'd rather use too much lube than not enough.

At first it had been weird for you that Adam knew about your carrier, in the name of Lord above that motherfucker had seen you die because of that stupid porno. But it turned out to be quite useful for him to have all that knowledge about your past, that way he knew how far he was allowed to go without constantly having to ask you. He did check on your well-being during sex though, a thing you appreciated very much. He also knew about the things you were into, figuring his kinks out was as easy as breathing, the first man did nothing to hide the things that turned him on.

Adam covered his fingers in lube, waited a moment for the liquid to warm up and then slowly started to push his index finger inside of you. Your back arched and your hips rocked down on his finger, taking it like it was a daily thing - maybe because it was. “Gimme the second one,” you breathed out and watched as Adam moved his hand a little, his index finger almost slipped out and you were about to complain but before you had the chance to, two fingers were thrusted inside of you and you groaned, “That’s what I'm talking ‘bout, pretty boy.”

“Just look at the filthy little slut you are,” his hand moved up and down your side before it stilled on your hip bone, “So fucking eager to take the first dick ever made.” You nodded, “And so fucking ready too, so what ya waiting for, big guy?” Your lips had curled up into a shit eating grin as you challenged him, “Scared you'll hurt me?” Oh and that made something inside of Adam snap.

He quickly withdrew his fingers, causing you to complain about the emptiness you were left with. “Adam,” you whined and wiggled your ass closer to his hips, “I can take both, your fingers and your dick.” That earned you a light slap on your hips, “Don’t be so fucking impatient, you'll get what is needed to shut your mouth.” “I think it'll make me open up instead, moaning yo-” you cut yourself off with a loud moan because the brunette had just bottomed out inside of you without any kind of warning. And the burn that came with it from how wide his dick stretched you was beautiful through and through.

“Don’t just fucking talk about moaning my name, do it,” he demanded and gripped your hips firmly to keep you from squirming, he didn't move however, gave you the time you needed to get used to the feeling. Oh the self control this man had was driving you insane. “Goddamn it, fuck me already, what use is it to have the first dick inside of me when it doesn't fucking do shit,” you whined as you threw your head back into the pillows.

Adam didn't move his hips, however he leaned over you and wrapped his left hand around your throat, there was no pressure at all, just the feeling of his hand. For a moment panic flooded your brain and your body screamed at you to make him stop, to tell him not to fucking touch you like that, but then he spoke up and his voice was so soft, sounded so worried, “You decide when it is too much, if this is too much you simply say so and I won't touch you like that again unless you ask for it like a good fucking boy you can be.”

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath and relaxed, his hand was still on your throat but you relaxed. “No, it's okay,” you whispered without looking at him, then added, “Now get to the fucking point and fuck my brains out like you promised.” And then there was pressure on your throat but at the same time the brunette started to move his hips, the pace at which his hips slammed in and out was bruising but it was exactly what you needed. You bared your throat as much as you could, showing him that it was okay, showing him that you trusted him with this, “Fuck, Adam.”

The sound of Adam's balls slapping against your ass filled the room and while one hand was firmly yet not painfully wrapped around your throat, the other slowly slid up your torso until it reached your nipple, the skilful fingers of your lover twisted it in such delicious ways that moan after moan spilled from your lips and Adam admired it, admired you. He was purely enchanted whenever you got vocal during sex - which was quite often.

“Fucking right, whore, moan for me ‘n’ my dick,” he hissed before he caught your lips in a bruising kiss, your back arched off the mattress even more, your hips tried to chase his whenever he pulled out only to slam himself back in again a second later. A whine fell from your lips and seeped into the kiss, your wings closed around his back, trapping the both of you behind feathers but neither of you minded, you were both too caught up in pleasure to care about such things. “Adam, please,” you moaned as your hips helplessly moved in sync with his own, “Fucking touch me.”

Normally Adam would make you beg for it, deny you your orgasm for as long as he could, but not that day. You had been doing so well for him, had tried something that neither of you were sure you would like. You had given him your trust by allowing you to touch in ways no one ever touched you with consent and he wanted to reward you for it, wanted to give you what you so desperately graved. As he attempted to let go of your throat you stopped him. Your hand tightly gripped his wrist in order to keep his hand where it was and you looked him in the eyes as you said, “I fucking dare you to stop choking me, use your other hand to jerk me off.”

He couldn't help the chuckle that rumbled through his body but he did as he was told and once his hand had started to stroke your dick, it only took you a few moments to reach your climax. The white wetness covered your stomach, a few drops even reached Adam's chest but you were too fucked out to pay any mind to it, all that you were able to focus on was Adam, Adam, Adam. Adam, who was fucking you through your orgasm to chase his own, Adam who didn't take much longer to reach his peak, Adam who filled you up with his cum until it started to leak.

The first man breathed heavily on top of you as he pulled out, a weak snap of his fingers cleaned both of your bodies before he fell into the sheets beside you. Well to be fair he had landed on your wing instead of the mattress but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You turned around to face him and curled up against his chest, Adam wrapped his entire body around you in order to keep you warm and protected.

“Thank you, Adam.”

He kissed your head softly.

“Anything for you, babes.”

[chigirizzz]

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK — I. SAE

warnings/tags: angst, hurt/a little bit of comfort, gn! reader, descriptions of physical symptoms of anxiety, ooc sae??, not proofread

summary: love is confusing. a part of you knows sae loved you; another part of you makes you question that. if both parts can't coexist, was your relationship worth fighting for?

wc: 2.3k

notes: this one was difficult to write man. i literally rewrote almost every paragraph dozens of times until i thought this entire thing was worth of being posted. while writing this i was literally biting my own fist out of frustration lmao.

»»——⍟——««

being a professional football player for sure brings a lot of things in your life: fame, money, awards, fans, haters, sponsors, you name it. but one thing that no one ever seems to talk about is the painful feeling inside someone’s entire body when under the extreme pressure—the shortness of breath, the rapid beating of the heart, the big knot on the throat, the tightening of the stomach, the burning sensation in the eyes due to increased blood circulation, and so on.

sae was used to those feelings. it was part of his life as an athlete—it was part of his life ever since he was a young boy, like when he had to get ready to leave his home country to live in another one, practically alone, without his family. for days, young itoshi sae felt in panic, nauseous and was disturbed by severe headaches.

it’s funny how emotions can make you physically sick, right?

of course, anyone can feel like this—it's completely normal and it’s what makes us humans. for a singer, those symptoms of sickness might happen mostly on the stage; for a baker, those nerves might happen mostly when getting ready the perfect wedding cake; for a writer, that anxiety might happen mostly when publishing a book, afraid of what people will think of it and if it will sell well.

for football players, those sensations are, most of the time, absorbed by their bodies and minds the moment they step on the field.

sae falls into this category.

then, at the end of the day, people can still live through situations that make them feel anxious outside of their professions—perhaps they have to get ready for a date; perhaps they got lost and can't find the right path to go home.

sae does not fall into this category. he is a rational man who avoids people and feelings not related to his career. he always knows what to do and what not to do.

but today, today is different. today sae itoshi is in the second category, and he might be stuck in there for a while, who knows.

sitting on the edge of the bed you both share, he inhales deeply as his hands make their way to grab said edges. the soft material of the bedspread under his fingers helped him cool down a little bit. so soft ♡. he exhaled after holding his breath for a few seconds.

he could hear your sobs.

you were sitting on the comfy sofa placed in the small, elegant balcony connected to your shared bedroom. although the curtains were blocking the outside view, the chilly, cold wind of the night would constantly move the brownish pink curtains to give the man the perfect—and heartbroken—sight of your figure in a curled up position, crying, with no sign of stopping so soon.

(brownish pink curtains… you wanted to buy those because it reminded you of sae's hair. of your boyfriend's hair. he could still hear your laugh when you suggested buying those.)

you too were in a psychological and physical distress; you too were in the second category—the difference, however, was that you have been in that same category for a while; meanwhile sae has only entered it today.

sae didn’t like the feeling of his sunken heart, of the big knot on his throat and of the tightening of his stomach’s walls when looking at you so miserable like that. and the worst part? he was the reason you were in that state.

in case you didn't understand yet, my dear reader, itoshi sae broke your heart once again and now your relationship is at a great risk of ending. by saying that sae has officially entered the "second category", we get the idea that said man is now anxious, scared, and physically sick with the thought of losing you—the anxiety that he only felt on the field and never in his personal life? he's feeling it right now.

and it’s only now that he understands how much he disappointed you ever since you two started dating. he remembers it all now: how he didn’t show any interest in your thoughts and hobbies (which is not true, he was just devoid of emotions but it still hurt you), how cold his responses could get, how he never denied that his career was the number one priority, the dry messages he sent you when you were excited, how mean he could be to other people even if you’d tell him how much you hated that attitude of his, how he would just gave you a gift after a fight instead of properly apologizing, how he stood up on you several times on a restaurant, all ready for him to arrive for your date, only to not appear because he preferred to stay late at practice and ended up forgetting the plans you both made…

the true—although not surprising at all—is, the oldest itoshi wasn’t good with feelings; he knew what to do and what not to do during matches, but when it came to human beings, he didn’t have an idea of what he should do or what to say—and let’s be honest, he didn't care about it either. sae did love you, though. the way he looks at you proves it; the marks he would leave on your body during nights so full of lust and romance that would be capable of shedding emotional tears from aphrodite’s eyes proved it; the way he'd roll his eyes and proceed to place soft kisses on your fingers when you complained of the water being too hot after finishing washing the dishes proved it.

the engagement ring he bought for you that is hidden in a safe place where you couldn’t find it proved it.

and now there might not be a day where he could put the ring around your finger and watch you giggle like a teenager in love.

his heart weighs heavier now, almost like it’s getting ready to be swallowed by the black hole formed on his stomach. fuck. he passes his hand through his reddish brown hair, tugging a few strands.

he got out of the bed and made his way to the door of the small balcony. there you were, still in a curled up position. your sobs have stopped already but a sniff or two could be heard.

“talk to me.” the genius didn’t know exactly what his tone was. tiredness? begging? regret? i-don’t-care-at-all-stop-acting-like-this? this man sure was confusing. there was no response, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of the leaves of the trees moving with the wind, almost mocking, not sae, but you.

the way you rolled your eyes was unknown to him.

“seriously, y/n. head inside so we can talk—”

“fuck you, itoshi, leave me alone.” your intention wasn’t to be mean to him, you didn't think before speaking—it hurt both you and him—, but sometimes harsh words were better in specific times. this is a specific time, you should have shared your thoughts a long time ago. “you wanna talk now? you usually just buy me roses without saying anything.”

“i’m trying to fix things up.”

you turned your head to look at him, a sad smile on your lips. “and i appreciate it, really, but i’m just so fucking tired, sae.” your voice broke on the word “tired”. “and you just want to talk now because i said i was thinking of breaking up with you during our fight earlier? why, sae, why…” more tears were threatening to fall, voice still breaking.

teal colored eyes darkened. you were now looking at the view in front of you. you guys lived in a really peaceful neighborhood with big, expensive houses. the view was nothing special (a few trees, a few parked cars, a park near you), but it wasn't bad either. it's not like the view mattered as long as you lived with the love of your life.

even if said love of your life could sometimes be difficult to put up with.

you remember when you started dating him and met his younger brother, who had the audacity to say with a serious face that you would regret dating your boyfriend. although you now understand the point rin was trying to make, you didn't regret being with sae; you didn't regret anything at all. and if you were to be honest, you wanted to ignore the fight and just spend the night watching a movie or something, but you had to act like a mature adult and find a better solution.

were you, though, being a mature adult by giving that response to sae when he said he wanted to talk? you were genuinely confused.

sighting and while wiping your tears, you patted the uncopied place of the sofa beside you. "ok, let's talk. sit." the man did what you told and you moved away a few centimeters to give him more space. it was… silence. a mix of comfortable and uncomfortable silence.

without looking at you, sae rested his hand on top of yours, causing you to flinch a little by surprise, but paid no mind and let him interlock his fingers with yours, your thumb now caressing his pinky finger.

"what… what do you want to say?"

"were you telling the truth earlier?"

"about me breaking up with you?" a "mhm" was his answer. "yes, i was ." by the corner of your eye you noticed he stared at you after those words. your mind couldn't decipher what his thoughts were. "i don't like being stood up on a date two times in the same month, y'know?"

the man sighted. "i was busy with practice. and i literally warned you at a good time, you just got to the place too early."

you let out a chuckle in an ironic way. "you did warn me, yes, and i wouldn't mind if it was once or twice, but enough is enough, itoshi." it was the second time of the night—scratch that, it was the second time in your entire life that you called him by his surname. even when you were only friends, you would call him by his first name or by cute, silly nicknames. the second time the word itoshi came out of your mouth, it was full of venom; venom that seemed to wrap so tightly around his heart. "i know your career is extremely important to you. i understand that and i want to support you in any way, shape and form, however, things can't keep going like this."

"i see." the reddish brown haired man looked at both your hands still together. you didn't let go of him, you didn't want to and he didn't want it either. “i understand.”

he should say something more. something more profound, more romantic, capable of making you stay, but what can the prodigy do about it? sure, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want you to stay with him, but the decision was yours and he had to take it, whether he liked it or not; whether it’d left him heartbroken or not. besides, he now understands just how much he confused you with his true feelings. you both were tired of the constant kiss and make up.

just how sae could be an egoistic on the field, he could be also one on his private life (just ask literally anybody and they will confirm).

you let go of his fingers to turn your arm so that your palm was facing upwards, in contact with his, and you interlock your fingers again. “it’s not easy for me but… i feel like it’s the best choice.”

you spent a few seconds looking into each other's eyes, until sae leaned his forehead against yours and you did the same, with your eyes closed and enjoying the cold night breeze hitting your bodies, the breeze contrasting with the bittersweet heat formed in your hearts.

“so… is it decided…”

“yes… it is.” you were glad that he respected your decision and that you discussed the matter without further discussion. “i’ll still pack my things today. in the morning i’ll call a friend and ask them to stay at their house for a few days. then i’ll see how it goes.”

“hm.”

he offered to help you pack your bags, but you refused—him helping you would only make you more emotional and rethink your decision. that night, you and your now ex-boyfriend slept on the same bed, back to back.

»»——⍟——««

"hey,” it was now the next morning and you had just gotten ready to leave the house. sae called you before you had a chance to get out the door. “do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

a smile formed on your lips. now that you were changing your path in life, it seemed that you just lost a heavy weight on your shoulders. sae didn't like that, but again, he was in no position to make you stay. “ thank you sae, really. the same goes for you, though. and don’t overwork yourself.”

those words and the little chuckle that followed hurt sae like a bitch. you always told him to not work himself till exhaustion, yet he always ignored you…

“well… goodbye, itoshi.” before he’d answer, you stepped out of the door, closing it behind you.

as the sound of the engine of your friend’s car starting up reached his ears, he made his way to the bedroom, to reach out for the engagement ring he bought for you. he layed on the bed, hugging the tiny ring’s box, hot tears running silently down his cheeks to the pillow.

you were gone. you were officially gone.

»»——⍟——««

tagging: @izzylovestnbhd

thank you for reading. likes, reblogs and coments are appreciated ♡

[leeneir]

Look At Me Please 2.0; Possesive Yandere!Iso x Reader

To those that have given me reqs, I'm terribly sorry for not getting them out yet. My writer's block is such a pain💔 I promise I'm constantly thinking abt them tho and tryna brainstorm but my creative well is nonexistent dibdjs

Anywho, this is a continuation of the last Yandere Iso hc post! Highly recommend that you read the first! :]

Iso didn’t go through with his plans against Yoru that day because he was too happy about going on that date, but that doesn’t mean he forgot. Around a week after your boba date with him, you found Yoru with a serious injury being nursed back to health by Sage, when you asked what happened, he told you to leave. Perhaps a matter of pride?

You bring up the concern with your new boyfriend, Iso. When he responds, he doesn’t sound sympathetic. It wasn’t strange, he barely showed expressive emotion, and he didn’t have the best interactions with Yoru, so you assumed he didn’t really care because they weren’t the greatest friends.

In reality, Iso was fuming that you were concerned about that stupid cocky bastard and how he snapped at you like that. How dare that shit head take your emotions for granted? Sure, he’s the reason Yoru was injured in the first place, but the audacity Yoru had to brush you off. He’ll have to do more damage later.

The day you told Iso you loved him for the first time, something about him changed. He wasn’t shy anymore, he was always initiating intimacy, trying to give you kisses, holding your hand, and overall just a lot more doting and servicing you.

Oh, you’re tired? How could he let this happen! Iso shuts the rest of the world out with both of you in either his or your room, he already put both of your requests for a day off.

Very insistent about sleeping in the same room, you won’t do anything too intimate, he just wants to be with you for the rest of your life night.

At some point, everything becomes a reminder of you. The bare walls of the HQ, the houseplants put around the facility by Skye and Sage, the air that he breaths, he couldn’t get enough of anything.

ALWAYS holding you somewhere. Whether it be on the shoulder while youre talking to someone, the arm, your back, your leg while you're sitting, etc. Iso likes having a hand on you as a way to say “Mine.” to the others.

Every day has a new gift. Your room is starting to get crowded with all of the things he gets for you, Iso has already requested Brimstone to extend your room to make some space.

Man’s is rich and just loves spoiling you. Even if it’s just your favorite snack, or a new piece of clothing, he will literally get anything you want. If you mentioned something you even hinted you’d like, expect to receive it in the following hours to a day. He ordered it with overnight shipping.

Your assigned on a mission and he isn’t sent with you? Oh no!! Someone on the strike team got injured from training, what will we ever do? Everyone else happens to be unavailable for some unknown reasons, except Iso.

During the mission when you request a gun, he’ll immediately get it for you and snap at anyone else who even tries to get it first. Iso kisses you on the forehead before going to his position.

You had to apologize to Reyna for his behavior, she told you that his heart revealed that he wasn’t the good person you thought he was. Which was strange. How was the admiring and loving Iso not who he appeared to be?

One day, have an argument with Iso about going to training with Gekko and the others. He said that there was no need for you to go with them when the two of you could train together later.

You didn’t understand why Iso was so upset, you were just gonna do a few mock battles with other people, what's so wrong with that? You could train with him later too if he wanted to. You brushed him off anyway, finding his attitude very childish right now. Suddenly, he grabs your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t look at them.” He ordered.

Before you could get a word out, your eyes met his, and you could see the intensity and possession in his eyes which glowed brighter than they normally did. It was terrifying.

You say his name, and suddenly he snaps out of it, letting you go and apologizing profusely. He starts tearing up a bit and saying that he shouldn’t have done that and keeps apologizing, stepping away from you and not letting himself hold you.

You feel guilty when he looks down at his hands, as if there was fresh blood on them, as if he’d just destroyed something precious. You couldn’t help but pull him in for a hug and apologize too. He tries to pull away, saying that he was a horrible person, but you don’t let that happen. So, he embraces you back, burying his face in your neck.

You could tell he was genuinely upset, and reassured him that he wasn’t bad and that you’ll be with him. He doesn’t need to worry about anything, you’ll put off training with the others for another time and stay with him for the rest of the day. He sniffles, pulling you in closer.

What you couldn’t see since his face was on your shoulder was the malicious expression at his successful attempt at keeping you to himself. Hook, line, and sinker.