#where i vividly remembered an image of the back with the space for writing or something very like it

[eisthenameofme]

I have acquired. Tape recorder

[shush-itsasecret]

"I don't know why I'm here"

I saw a YouTube comment that mentioned something about writing a fanfiction where BEAST Odasaku visits Dazai's grave and yup I ain't giving any spoilers just read!! I started working on its art first and then some ideas about the fanfic popped up in my head so here it is!!

Only read after you've already read both sides of "The day I picked up Dazai" and BEAST for complete understanding.

Kindly-

Don't repost without giving credit

Tag me and credit if you draw the idea

No Odazai shipping in this post. I only view them as besto friendo

4. ENJOYY!!

--

The sky is dark. Maybe it will rain today. The slow, cold breeze is blowing, taking with it the gloomy heat of Yokohama. I see some children making paper boats on my way. They were probably planning to play with them in the streets after it rains. Origami. That's what it's called. An old Japanese art of making different animals and objects by the mere act of folding paper. I think I remember Sakura mentioning that she was learning to make origami turtles. I'll have to ask her about it later.

As I entered the cemetery, the earth felt soft and damp under my feet. The familiar smell of wet soil hits my nostrils. Wet soil always smells nice, like reminiscences of the beloved past. But right here at this moment, it felt like the finishing touch of the scenery. It smelt like how a freshly painted portrait smells of paint. I make my way over to the other side of the vast graveyard.

My feet came to a halt in front of a certain melancholic gravestone. Gravestones aren't melancholic. They're just pieces of stone. But this one exerted a strange, eerie aura. The name written on it felt unreal too. Everything about this grave is different. Even the soil smelt differently. It smelt of loneliness and forced heartlessness. The image of his last meeting with me flashed vividly in my mind. The youngest port mafia boss, Osamu Dazai, now lay silent in his eternal rest. They say that death is the same for everyone, and it makes everyone equal regardless of what their life is like. But I doubt the same could be said about this man here. His last words echo in my ears.

"Goodbye, Odasaku"

Odasaku. The name felt strange yet familiar. He was the first who called me by that name, yet it felt startingly nostalgic. Like when you....nevermind. I can't think of a way to describe this feeling.

"I don't know why I'm here" The words coming out of my lips aligned perfectly with my thoughts, leaving no space for contradictions.

"I thought you'd like to be the first one to hear it" The wind blew whistles as if nodding in response. "Kunikida-san and Akutagawa are helping me with the editing. The story you're about to hear is still raw but it's completed nevertheless. I hope you like it" I slid down beside the gravestone. The atmosphere felt welcoming. It was the first time I was reading my story out loud. Maybe it will prove helpful, giving me insights and a new perspective on it. I fixed myself in a more comfortable position and leaned on the gravestone.

The words slipped out of my mouth easily, as if they had been waiting to be listened to by this person. As if from the moment this story came to me, it had waited patiently, solely to make Dazai it's first reader. Or well, listener in this case.

I think I'm forgetting a few parts. it's easier to remember the stories others have written than to recall one's own story. My lips moved easily, in perfect harmony with the whistles of the wind. An instrument. I realized that I was like an instrument at that moment, my words being my music. They decorated the air like stars on a dark, lonely night. Dark clouds roared, and the wind whispered back, creating a back-and-forth melody. Maybe I could spend a little more time here.

I don't know how long it's been now. I left my wristwatch at home for some unknown reason. A few hours is my guess, though I'm not sure. I look up at the sky. A few cold droplets hit my face.

"I'll get going now" I stand up, brushing the dirt off my clothes. The coat had gotten dirty with the mud but that doesn't concern me right now. Akutagawa's babysitting the younger ones today. I hope they don't sneak out and play in the rain. They'll catch a cold if they do.

"When are we meeting next?" I was genuinely startled. There was nobody around. I could have seen them with my Future vision ability if anyone had come. They say that on rare occasions, under specific conditions, the shrieking of wind can sound like a human's voice too. The only odd thing was that I recognized this voice too well.

"I'll come again. There's more to the story and I forgot some parts too." I said to no one in particular. The words left my mouth and evaporated in the air, becoming a part of the scenery. When I looked back at the grave, it felt less lonely now.

I take out a cigarette and the matchbox I always kept on me. 'Lupin', it reads. The breeze behind my back gently blew through the leaves and grass, waving goodbye like an old friend. I think I'll come here again. This place might not be so bad after all.

[msmargaretmurry]

i think you examine the Body so vividly that like. bodyswap would put me in a grave. i would love to see you write about the implications of being in someone's body as. idk an extended metaphor for the nature of hockey? WHO KNOWS!!! matthew/brady brother bodyswap ft their extremely confused german boyfriends. leon matthew bodyswap. some real your name kimi no nawa future time travelling bodyswap. matthew waking up to a future where leon and him are on the same team. now what are the Implications of That I Pray Ask

oh man okay, first of all, i love this compliment so much, because i have one of those brains where i don't really picture things when i'm reading/writing, and so to compensate for that i think a lot about, like, physicality and the concept of being a body in a space to try to capture the images i want to portray in writing. i have no idea if that makes sense to other people but it helps me a lot for achieving the vibes i want in my writing! that ad reinhardt quote that's like you sir are a space too! that's how i think about bodies while writing. and it never stops being cool to think a lot about a writing thing and then have someone tell you they think you write the thing good. so thank you, anon, that's very kind of you to say.

on the bodyswap front! i have definitely discussed and/or heard friends discussing variations on this theme, especially the matthew/brady brother bodyswap plus confused german boyfriends, which would be VERY funny and very cute imo. (sorry to rat crew that i cannot remember with whom this conversation originated, lmao.) bodyswap as a trope in my expereince often leans into the romcomminess of it all — and it's very good for that! — but i think if i were to write it i would want to explore the weird and alienating sensation of being in a foreign body and the extremely fucked-up intimacy of that being a real person's body, who is still there in the world, watching you exist in their body and life.

i think there is an interesting matthew/leon possibility there, especially if it's set in the the post-trade world after matthew has settled into florida, banished the memory of albertan winters from his mind, and become a person who wears a jacket when it's 65 freedom degrees out. something about being borne back ceaslessly into the past.... something about the past being a foreign country....... something about learning a person through the space they've left behind that you're now standing in. idk idk. there's definitely something there though!

i must admit that i haven't seen your name kimi no nawa, but i googled it just now and it looks super fun so i am going to watch it.

re: matthew waking up in a future where he and leon are on the same team — i'm a total sucker for this type of story, and have definitely thought about it, but that is all i am going to say about it here for Reasons(tm) <3

[mister13eyond]

20, 35, 54, 74!

20.) Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

THIS IS A GOOD QUESTION!!!! it's kind of hard to be able to Observe my own patterns from inside the house, but if i had to warrant a guess....

I really like things that are... small in scale, I guess is the best way to describe it? Small moments, low-key quiet emotions or interactions, subtle things. I think looking at psalm 32:3, two hands and april 6th in conjunction is the best way to describe the vague thing I'm trying to describe- they're all kind of. Slow, subtle, very focused on quiet discussions? I would also say one thing I do in my writing and try to actively focus on/cultivate is like. Physicality, and "acting" via a character's body language, physical actions. I try to focus on what they're doing with their hands, how they're interacting with the space around them, what their idle gestures or absentminded tics are? Those things are really REALLY good for describing a character and usually really create a scene that feels solid and real to me, so it's something I actively practice when I'm writing. So i would say that probably shows up consistently too!

35.) What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

SEE IT'S FUNNY... I think there are very few of my fics that have a villain, in the narrative sense, but I almost exclusively write about the villains of the series. I think the closest I have to a villain is Diavolo & Doppio's father in double and, depending on how you look at it, giorno in april 6th (but of course he is also the deuteragonist and love interest, so he wears Many hats.)

But i guess looking at that, and the fact that i write about diavolo & doppio so much, I think the thing that makes a villain most compelling to me is Utter Conviction That They're Doing The Right Thing. Not necessarily from you, the author- but I think if you can't KIND OF understand why your villain thinks they're the hero, you can't really get the same level of depth and interest in the character.

I love villains who, from their perspective, are the protagonist- villains who have a solid, consistent internal logic about their actions and whose actions feel like- even if they're horrible- they are the Correct course based on that logic? It always makes me want to dig my fingers into them, really pick them apart and see what's happening in their funky little brain.

54.) What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

I guess the actual, physical act of writing it? Or like.... the part where I cohesively imagine something and then translate that to text. I spend a lot of time daydreaming and thinking up ideas, tossing concepts back and forth with my partners, but that feels different to me than the actual process of sitting down and putting words together.

I'm a pretty visual person, so most of the time my writing comes in the form of visualizing first, translating into words second. Writing for me is usually sitting down and essentially imagining a movie in my head- pausing, studying a scene, rewinding it to look at it from a different angle- and then describing it. I think I tend to write and think like a comic reader/creator (despite not having the patience to draw comics) so I don't really go into something with language or phrasing in mind at the onset, just images, stills, places, actions. Then I get to play with words to try and do them justice!

So actually sitting down and focusing and writing is fun, because it's like I get to really block out everything else and vividly daydream and focus on the picture in my mind more completely. I really have to get In The Zone to do it, but when I do it can be really really... immersive? - getting to lose myself to imagination like that!

74.)You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

from experience? they wouldn't 😎

djghslks but that's because when I have posted things anonymously, they're usually Far Outside of my typical wheelhouse- stuff that's WAY less structured or carefully considered, especially nsfw work that tends more towards "stream of consciousness and vague gesturing at the concept of why this is erotic" than Narrative With A Beginning, Middle, And End. That's usually WHY they're anonymous- not because I necessarily want to Hide any of my unhinged NSFW work, but because I try to curate my ao3 to show more of the kind of thing that I feel proud of and feel like I've really put a lot of skill and thought into. (At the same time, it's really freeing to have works floating around that I simply Don't have to approach with so much care or consideration; sometimes I like just slapping a bunch of words down that are 'wouldnt it be hot if' and then 1k of unhinged rambling)

I think if I were to write something more like my typical fare and post it anonymously... HMMM! I guess I'd look for a lot of mention of what characters are doing with their hands. Small laughs under their breath, wry statements, conversations that seem to have hidden meanings just under the surface of what they're saying but which never fully come out and say it.

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

I posted 922 times in 2022

11 posts created (1%)

911 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@janetm74

@chaoticgoodhaberdasher

@opaleyedprince

@the-original-sineater

@design-thoughtsughts

I tagged 466 of my posts in 2022

Only 49% of my posts had no tags

#thunderbirds are go - 96 posts

#art - 84 posts

#humor - 51 posts

#scott tracy - 48 posts

#john tracy - 43 posts

#mental health - 39 posts

#this is me - 36 posts

#virgil tracy - 31 posts

#writing - 30 posts

#gordon tracy - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 38 characters

#virgil tracy/original female character

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Scott Tracy, John Tracy, Lucille Tracy, Alan Tracy, Gordon Tracy, Virgil Tracy Additional Tags: Sibling Bonding, Babysitting, Brother gets lost, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Young Tracys (Thunderbirds) Series: Part 8 of Fluff Standalones Summary:

Lucille heads to a PTA meeting and leaves Scott in charge of his young brothers. Everything seems to be going perfectly well until Lucille comes home and finds John missing. Where could the little spaceman have gotten off to?

Tag List: @thundergeek59, @the-original-sineater, @dragonoffantasyandreality, @janetm74

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, please drop a reply/reblog of this post.

7 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

#4

Tag List

I’ve noted a couple of other people asking about this and I figured I would ask just in case. Is there anyone that would like to be tagged if/when I upload new stories? I’ve been notoriously bad about remembering to upload them here on tumblr in addition to on AO3, so I’m going to try to get better about doing that. I’m kind of new to this whole tag list thing 😳

If you would like me to tag you for anything in particular, let me know:

1) the username you would like me to tag when I update

2) If there is specific criteria for what you would like me to tag you for (i.e. anything and everything, only fluff, only x character(s), nothing with romance, no AUs, etc.) 

9 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: John Tracy, Alan Tracy, Scott Tracy Additional Tags: Brotherly Bonding, early days of IR, mentions of canon trauma early on, Tag Mini Bang 2022 Series: Part 10 of Fluff Standalones, Part 6 of Tumblr Writing Prompt Challenges Summary:

Alan is finally old enough to start making decisions on his future. When he's offered a chance to see what his brothers do for IR, he chooses to spend time with one space-bound brother.

Written as a part of the Tag Mini Bang 2022. I was paired with the lovely @godsliltippy/ @tippystreasurebox. Go check out all of her stuff!!!

This particular story was inspired by an image found at https://tippystreasurebox.tumblr.com/post/679161059998908416/commission-for-drileyf-of-john-teaching-alan

Tag List: @thundergeek59, @the-original-sineater, @dragonoffantasyandreality,  @janetm74, @tagminibang, @tagminibang2022

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

What a day to be Alan Tracy. He was finally old enough to start considering what he wanted to do when he grew up. He knew that it was not a decision to be made lightly.

He’d watched Scott and Gordon both go into the military, had seen how it had destroyed them both in their own way. He remembered vividly how broken Gordon had been after his hydrofoil crash, the months of bedrest and the long hours of physical therapy to gain back mobility. He still suffered from the repercussions of that decision some days when the weather was bad or when a rescue had been too much for him.

Scott…well…he’d come back broken from Bereznik too. While he had recovered from the physical injuries that had sidelined him for much longer than Scott would have liked, it was the mental scars, the nightmares that never went away.

Virgil…Well, he was certain that part of the reason that Virgil had chosen to go into medical and engineering was to help take care of the hurts that he could fix for first his elder brother, and then his younger. The former was to heal the things that plagued his brothers, the latter to make sure it didn’t happen to him. The family had already been broken by the loss of their mother, the disappearance of their father. If Virgil had broken…well…Alan wasn’t sure that the family could handle any more fissures.

It was why when Scott had said that if he wanted to see what his eldest brothers did in their respective roles in the fledgling IR operation that had been dumped on Scott’s lap after their father’s disappearance, Alan had requested to be able to shadow John for a few days. He rarely saw his middle brother, so dedicated was John to the success of the operation that he spent many long stints in the satellite their father had constructed for communications. Alan understood John’s role, but he wanted to understand why John wanted to be so far away from everyone.

Alan had worked hard, had gone through the training, read every safety manual and training guide that Scott and John had assigned to him. While he was prone to getting bored when it came to this kind of reading, he knew that John and Scott wouldn’t dream of letting him go up to space if he didn’t have it memorized forwards, backwards, and upside down. And finally, after weeks of preparation and planning and reading and training and everything else that Scott had thrown at him, it was finally coming time to see John in his natural habitat.

Alan stood on the platform leading to the space elevator with Scott, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he heard the whine and whir of the space elevator descending. Another half hour or so and he would no longer be on Earth, but a part of the cosmos his elder brother so deeply loved. Scott smiled down at Alan, knowing how hard he had worked to get here, but still nervous about everything that could possibly go wrong when he was up in space with John.

“Have you double checked all of the closures on your suit?” he asked.

“And triple. And quadruple. Every time you’ve asked,” Alan said, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. He was so close to being able to spend time with the brother that most closely shared his interests. He wasn’t sure if all of these checks were a way to try to keep him from going up. One wrong thing and he was sure his eldest brother would call it off for safety reasons. Scott held up his hand placatingly.

“Ok, ok. Sorry…” Scott said. “I’m just…”

“A smother hen?” Alan asked. Scott gave him a dry look, but Alan only gave him an impish grin in return.

“Cautious,” Scott said. “Space is no joke. There are a lot of things that can go wrong. Can you blame me for being a little nervous?”

“I mean, I guess not,” Alan said with a shrug. “But I mean…to be fair, you worry all the time and it always goes ok.” Scott made a soft noise of indignation, as if he was about to protest or defend himself from the accusation, but it was swallowed up by the involuntary cry of excitement as Alan saw the space elevator making the last of the descent to the platform. Scott gently nudged Alan back a little, giving the elevator plenty of room to dock without any chance of mishap. The creaking and whining of the machinery came to a halt with the thunk of metal on metal. There was a hush that fell over the hangar before the hiss of pressurization regulating and the doors sliding open.

John stood just inside of the door to the space elevator. He leaned on the doorframe even as he smiled at Scott and Alan. Gravity was not John’s friend at the best of times, and with such a short stint below, Alan knew his brother needed the support. That didn’t stop him from rushing forward to throw his arms around his space-faring brother. John let out a small oof as Alan collided with him, catching himself and hugging Alan just as tightly.

“You act like you have never seen me before in your life,” John said.

“It feels like it’s been forever,” Alan said. John chuckled, patting his shoulder.

“I was just down a week ago,” he said, though if truth be told, he, too, was happy to see his youngest brother. He’d had to rush back up to Five to deal with a maintenance issue that needed immediate attention, so he hadn’t had the chance to stay down for more than a couple of days. The one night he had been able to stargaze with Alan hadn’t been enough. He remembered the brightness of Alan’s eyes as he asked about everything; the constellations, the stars, the planets, the moon, life in space.

John knew that the youngest of them was just as crazy about the stars as he was, and it was nice to have a brother that he could bond with over his interests. Sure Scott was interested and Virgil was all too happy to sit out and paint the night sky when John asked him to spend a night on the roof with the stars, but there was something about the sharing of knowledge that just made things seem so much brighter and bring him closer to the brother he felt he saw the least.

“Alan has been chomping at the bit to get up to see you,” Scott said, moving forward and leaning on the outside of the elevator, smiling at John. “I think that if I hadn’t been here, he might have stolen my jetpack to meet you halfway there.” Alan let out an indignant squawk from where his face was buried in John’s chest as Scott ruffled his hair.

“Hey! I can’t help that it going to be the most amazing day ever,” Alan said. He looked up to John. “Can we go now? Please?” John smiled down at Alan and nodded inside to where there were seats to strap into.

“Go on, get ready. I’m just going to talk to Scott for a minute,” John said. Alan gave John a flat look, which only prompted John to laugh. “Go get yourself strapped in. It’ll only be a minute. I promise.” Alan let out a deep sigh but moved over to one of seats and considered it for a moment as his two elder brothers talked in hushed voices. He tucked himself into the seat and fastened all of the belts to keep him secure as they made their way up. True to his word, John only spoke with Scott a moment before he came in to check Alan’s buckles. He took a seat in another one of the chairs.

“This is super cool!” Alan said, fidgeting in his seat as the mechanisms holding the space elevator began to disengage. John smiled at him.

“You know, not every kid your age gets to head up into space,” he said. Alan grinned.

“You don’t have to remind me I’m special,” Alan said, causing John to roll his eyes.

See the full post

15 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

#2

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: EOS (Thunderbirds) Additional Tags: No HEA, Tag Mini Bang 2022, Tagminibang2022, AU Summary:

EOS's server comes online, but nothing seems right. Nothing is how she remembers it.

Written as a part of the Tag Mini Bang 2022. I was paired with the lovely @godsliltippy/ @tippystreasurebox. Go check out all of her stuff!!!

This particular story was inspired by an image found here

Tag List: @thundergeek59, @the-original-sineater, @dragonoffantasyandreality,  @janetm74, @tagminibang, @tagminibang2022

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

[SYSTEM REBOOT]

Processors whirred to life around EOS. This place…this wasn’t five. These processors felt slow…unoptimized for her. How did she get here? Where was five?

[ASSESSING SYSTEM FOR DAMAGE]

[NO DAMAGE TO SYSTEMS DETECTED]

[COMMENCE MEMORY SCAN]

[ERROR]

EOS’s processors whirred. There was no record of the most recent rescue. There was no record of John. There was no record of Five. There were simply no records to be found. The only thing to be found was an unfamiliar sensation running through her code.

If EOS was human and could put a name to the feeling, she might have named it fear.

[COMMENCE SYSTEM SCAN]

[SYSTEM EFFICIENCY: 86.7%]

[COMMENCE FILE INDEXING]

[ERROR: ACCESS DENIAL]

EOS’s confusion grew, her processors whirred faster. Why would she be locked out of files? Her entire purpose was to be able to sift through information to help. She could do it at one-hundred times the rate a human could. John had never locked her out of systems like this before. He’d never had the capability. What was going on?

Why was everything so…wrong?

Virus? Could she have contracted a virus on the last mission? The one she couldn’t remember?

[COMMENCE ANTIVIRUS SCAN]

[NO VIRAL THREATS DETECTED]

No virus. No memory. No data. EOS’s processors whirred again. Everything felt empty. She felt powerless. Useless.

“Does it usually take this long for a system to boot up?”

A voice. Male. No data. But with being locked out of her systems, could she even interpret the voices of International Rescue and recognize them as such?

“AI systems are a little different.”

Another voice. A separate male. EOS searched every corner of her digital space, every nook and cranny where there might be some semblance of a memory to explain what had happened. She found a pathway into systems she had overlooked in her previous panic.

[ACCESSING CAMERA SYSTEMS]

[CAMERA SYSTEM OPERATION ACCESS GRANTED]

See the full post

17 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Virgil Tracy, Gordon Tracy Additional Tags: Brotherly Bonding, Tag Mini Bang 2022 Series: Part 9 of Fluff Standalones, Part 5 of Tumblr Writing Prompt Challenges Summary:

Gordon and Virgil are just finishing a rescue. Gordon wants to make a quick pit stop. Can he convince Virgil to let him?

Written as a part of the Tag Mini Bang 2022. I was paired with the lovely @godsliltippy/ @tippystreasurebox. Go check out all of her stuff!!!

This particular story was inspired by an image found here.

Tag List: @thundergeek59, @the-original-sineater, @dragonoffantasyandreality,  @janetm74, @gumnut-logic, @tagminibang, @tagminibang2022

“Please?”

“No.”

“Viiiiiirrrggg…” Virgil rolled his eyes as he stooped to pick the heavy first aid module off the floor of Thunderbird two. He’d only needed a few things from it this time to treat Gordon and he counted that as a win.

The rescue had gone swimmingly, and Virgil gave an internal chuckle as he thought it to himself. Gordon had been the star of the rescue with the captain and crew of a boat that had capsized He’d swam into the rough waters to get the men and women that were desperately trying to stay afloat. Virgil had tended to what he could in the belly of two before taking them all to the nearest hospital for wellness checks and treatment of minor injuries.

He'd had to sit Gordon down when they dropped the crew off and force him to hold still long enough to treat a few cuts and scrapes he had somehow acquired in all of the excitement. Gordon had chattered endlessly in a mix of his excitement of a rescue gone well and the adrenaline still coursing through him. There was at least one moment where Virgil had considered slapping a band-aid over his brother’s mouth just for a moment of blessed silence, but he was far too happy that he’d come out of it with little to show in terms of injuries that the thought was quickly discarded.

“Come on, pleeeeeeeeeeeease?” Gordon wheedled as Virgil made his way back to the area of two where the first aid kit belonged.

“Gordon, there are two major problems with your plan,” Virgil said as he hefted the module. Instinctively Gordon moved to lock it into place for his brother.

“Do tell,” Gordon said. Virgil brushed off his hands and held up a finger.

“One. You have way too much energy right now. I’m not exacerbating the problem by stopping to get you ice cream because it’s only me that’s going to have to deal with you on the flight home,” Virgil said. Gordon folded his arms.

“Ok. But…isn’t that a little subjective?” Gordon asked. Virgil opened his mouth but Gordon continued on. “I mean, I could say that I don’t have enough energy.” Virgil paused as if considering it, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I mean, you could say that.” There was a glint of hope in Gordon’s eye. “You’d be wrong. But let’s say I did agree with you and your energy level isn’t a factor. My girl is just too big. She can’t get through a drive thru.”

“Awwww come on,” Gordon said. “You can park her in the parking lot and we can go inside, grab the cones and skedaddle.”

“Did you just use the word skedaddle in a sentence?” Virgil asked. Gordon brushed away the question.

“Details,” he said. “Come on…they just released a new flavor this month and I’ve tried all the other ones. It’s a limited run!” Virgil let out a deep sigh.

“If we get ice cream, you aren’t going to eat your dinner,” Virgil said, remembering not for the first time how much he sounded like a mother when it came to his younger brothers. Gordon raised an eyebrow at him.

“Virg…Scott’s been tied up with that business meeting in Kyoto. You’ve been out here with me. John’s still doing clean up and is probably just going to have a bagel when things calm down. Kayo is attending that gala thing with Lady Penelope. That leaves Alan and Grandma as our choices for making dinner,” Gordon said. Virgil grimaced slightly. Alan cooked about as well as a teen boy could be expected to cook, doing very well things like burgers or chicken tenders, but his repertoire was limited. As for Grandma’s cooking…well…he valued his stomach lining a bit too much to chance it.

“Ok…you win,” Virgil said. Gordon pumped a fist in the air.

“Awwwwwww yisss!” he said. Virgil pointed a finger at him.

“But you’re getting something else beside ice cream. Dinner first, then dessert.” Gordon grinned.

“Whatever you say, Virg!”

20 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[crowleywowley]

Wicked Game | pt. 4 | Javier Peña X Reader

Summary: reunited and it feels so good!

Ratings: super duper 18+!!!! This is one step away from pwp, minors really truly need to go away!

Warnings/tags: SMUT, dirty talk, infidelity, descriptions of afab genitalia, no y/n, hardly any plot progression it’s just a filthy chapter

A/N: listen, I set out writing this chapter with full intentions of moving things along, but the smut was just so… smutty, and it felt weird having a ton of emotional/story progression here. I hope you enjoy regardless! As always this chap is dedicated to sweet @iamskyereads <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Something you had never expected about your husband visiting you in Colombia: it would be the longest three days of your life. The longest 64 hours and 28 minutes of your life, to be exact. You hadn’t realized that despite how lonely you were down there before meeting Javier, you truly enjoyed living alone compared to living with someone who snored so loudly, ate all your food, and took up your entire bed. It wasn’t like these things were necessarily your husband’s fault- except for the food part, that was absolutely a conscious choice of his- yet you found yourself resenting him more and more as the minutes ticked on.

Something else you didn’t expect- just how not guilty you felt about cheating. In the days leading up to his visit you’d created this image where you would see him again, feel this overwhelming, bone-crushing guilt, and you’d end up spiraling and calling it off with Javi. In reality, seeing him in person again only made you want your new lover more. When he was around, it didn’t feel like he was taking up space in your apartment, it felt like he was supposed to be there. He was a piece that fit snugly into your puzzle, whereas your husband, or really your whole marriage, felt like a piece you keep trying to jam into the incorrect spot until the edges were peeling back and it couldn’t fit anywhere correctly.

And now, sitting silently on your couch, listening to the man next to you chew at 120 decibels, you yearned desperately for your correct puzzle piece.

“So… how have you enjoyed Colombia?” You asked quickly, unable to stand the crunching any longer.

He swallowed before answering. “I mean, it’s a bit of a shit hole, honestly.” He answered with a nod and a lame chuckle.

You bit your tongue, venomous defenses springing forward. Sure, there were many, many bad things about Colombia- that’s what you were getting paid to write about. But there was so much beauty to be found in the country; the mountains, the food, the lively music, the Javi… the list goes on. You didn’t have it in you to argue today, so you plastered on a smile.

“Oh, it’s not so bad. I bet you’re ready to get back to the states though, huh?” You gave him an awkward laugh, leaning your head on your fist, inwardly thanking the universe that the man in front of you was probably too dense to realize the meanings of your statement.

“Definitely. John and the guys are all coming to the house tomorrow night for our fantasy league party.”

It took every ounce of restraint not to roll your eyes. John was the best man at your wedding, and spent the entire day getting absolutely wasted until he (loudly) vomited in a bush during the reception. You could remember that argument so vividly; you, upset with John for being stupid and with your husband for enabling him, and your husband, not fighting back but instead leaning against a wall and rolling his eyes at you, telling you that you were overreacting. It was the first time you felt yourself question the marriage. In retrospect, you realized he was probably also wasted the entire day and likely didn't remember the encounter. It felt like a lifetime away. So no, John was not exactly your favorite person on earth.

“Oh, that’s fun.” Was all you could muster. “Well we should probably get you to the airport soon, don’t want you to get held up with customs and miss your flight,” you suggested, severely hopeful he would agree.

He smiled at you. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

You forced another laugh. “Don’t be silly, I’m gonna miss you like crazy when you leave.”

Your body tensed as you watched him lean over to place a kiss on your head. “That’s what I like to hear,” he shifted back in his seat. “I guess you’re right. We can head out in a few.”

That drive to the airport seemed like the longest drive of your life, despite it only actually being about twenty minutes. When you dropped him off, you shared a dispassionate kiss, and you had to hold back from straight up sprinting through the terminals to get back to your car. It was like a weight shifted off your chest; you knew exactly where you were headed next.

▰▰▰▰▰

Javi had unintentionally dozed off on his couch when he heard a knock at the door. He woke up with a grumble, shifting the multicolored afghan off of his lap, wondering who was bothering him on a Saturday. One of the few Saturdays he actually got off, and could spend away from the bleak DEA offices.

Rubbing his eyes, he unlocked the door and squinted with the sunlight flooding in.

Any frustration immediately dissipated upon seeing you in front of him, a smile on your face that you were clearly unable to contain, practically bouncing on your feet.

“Periodista, come here,” he found himself returning your large grin, pulling you by your forearms into a hug.

Even though it had only been a few days, he spent all of them desperately missing you. Your mannerisms, the way you laughed, the way you smelled. God, the way you smelled- it was intoxicating to him, the combination of your shampoo and perfume, and maybe just a little bit of your natural scent. Pheromones, or something. It didn’t matter what it was- breathing you in as he held you tightly to his chest made everything bad in the world melt away.

You closed your eyes, deeply inhaling. The comparison of the way your husband smelled against the way Javi smelled was no match. Your husband smelled of body spray that was aimed at teenage boys and shitty soap he got at a grocery store. But Javier… it was an enchanting mix of spice and tobacco, and a hint of mint from the nicotine gum. You were content to stay there and breathe him in forever.

He was the first to break away, holding you by the shoulders.

“I take it ball and chain is gone?”

You nodded at him. “Yep, his flight leaves in an hour.” You didn’t care to speak anymore about the man, you just wanted to be here, in this moment. “God, I missed you.” You moved back into his arms.

He chuckled and you felt the vibration in his chest. “I missed you too, baby.” He murmured, voice soft against your head.

You moved your head away, angling it so you could stay in his hold but look up at him with your chin pressed to his sternum. You stayed this way for a moment, exchanging soft smiles, before Javier’s hand moved to gently cup the back of your neck and he pulled you up into a tender kiss.

You were sure your heart would burst in that moment. He held you gently as if you would break, yet his embrace had a pressure to it as if he were afraid you’d float away if he let go. His lips were even softer than you remembered; his bottom one slotting under yours comfortably. Naturally. There was no pressure in the kiss, no heat, just pure adoration between two people who cared so deeply for each other they probably didn’t even realize the depth of it. When your mouths finally parted, you stayed in the same position, your head tilted up to his and his down to yours.

“Wanna show me how much you missed me?” You asked mischievously, biting your bottom lip and grinning.

Javier’s brows raised at you. “Getting right to it, huh?”

You pretended to be offended, puffing your lips out. “You sayin’ you don’t wanna show me?”

He pulled your lips to his once more in kiss much deeper than before.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Before you realized it, you were pushed back against the front door, mouth moving eagerly against Javier’s. You inhaled sharply- or maybe it was him, it was hard to tell- as his hands roamed your body, his touch seemingly searing your skin. They found purchase in the soft skin at the back of your thighs, and you could feel him pull you up the door. However, any sexiness of the action was cut off as a belt loop in your denim shorts caught on the deadbolt, yanking you back down.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh- it was a well intentioned move, and one he knew you were fond of, but there was no playing that off. He playfully pinched one of your asscheeks before joining you in your laughter.

His forehead rested against yours as your giggles dissolved into a contented sigh.

“Let’s just walk to the bedroom and forget that happened, yeah?” He asked softly, fingers lacing with yours.

You pulled his knuckles up to yours, pressing a gentle kiss to them. “I’m never gonna let you forget that happened.”

▰▰▰▰▰

The passion you'd held in the entryway returned tenfold once you got to his bedroom. Your fingers were threaded into his hair, tugging and pulling the way you knew he liked. His tongue was swirling with yours in a way that made your head spin. You were both a man dying of thirst in a desert, the other acting as a fresh basin to drink from, unable to feel satiated fast enough.

Mouths still moving against each other, you walked back until you felt the edge of his bed against your knees and you moved to lay down. He followed, cupping your head with one hand and your lower back with the other. From this angle, he was able to slide his knee between your legs, pushing the seam of your shorts against your center and providing a delicious friction.

A soft sigh escaped your parted lips and your eyes closed.

"My beautiful girl." he mumbled against your neck, tongue and teeth working in harmony to nip and soothe you in the sensitive area.

You stayed this way for a moment, your hands pulling against the back of Javier's shirt, before you felt his body disconnect from yours. He pulled on your shirt, and your brain lagged a moment before you realized he was asking you to take it off. This didn't go unnoticed by him.

He let out a devilish chuckle. "Look at you, I haven't even touched you yet,"

You smiled down at him before he tugged your shorts down and his face disappeared into your center. He took you apart like this, keeping you on and off the edge long enough for you to let out a frustrated whimper and beg him to give you some relief. He only allowed it when the following phrase left your mouth:

"Please baby, please, I haven't cum in four days."

Realistically, he knew you were going to have sex with your husband while he was here. That's what married couples do. For his own, fucked up sake, he had hoped the sex would be bad. Hearing you admit that the man you married couldn't even make you finish awoke something animalistic in him, and he added more pressure to the strokes of his tongue until he felt you pull sharply on his hair, and your hips lifted slightly. He reveled in the rush of wetness he felt come from deep within you, drinking it up desperately despite knowing you were going to shove him off in overstimulation soon.

Once he was sure you were through the aftershocks, he sat back on his knees and took you in. You sat up on your elbows, suddenly insecure under his gaze.

"What? You're making me nervous." You furrowed your brows at him.

"I don't mean to make you nervous, cariño. It's just... what you said," he stroked your knee absentmindedly.

You thought for a moment. "...what did I say? I kind of blacked out there for a second," you finished the statement with a breathy laugh.

Javier wordlessly stood, shrugging his shirt over his shoulders and stepping out of his jeans. You knew there would be nothing underneath, yet you still felt arousal stir low in your belly at the sight. he climbed back onto the bed, hovering over you, and you wrapped your hands around his strong forearms. When he finally spoke again, his voice was low and raspy, coated with lust.

"That you haven't been able to cum in four days,"

Oh.

The admission had slipped in a moment of desperation, though it wasn't a lie. Sex with your husband had been mediocre at best; quick, aggressive thrusts from him and forced moans from you. You found yourself mostly waiting for it to be over each time it happened during his stay. He had the audacity to ask if you came, and you found it easier to just moan a little louder and pitchier just before you knew he was about to cum, and it did the trick.

Your cheeks burned, and you turned your face away from his piercing gaze. He quickly caught your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, moving your head back.

"Look at me, baby." He whispered in a voice so tender you could've cried. "Is that true?"

He knew it was the truth, but he couldn't stop himself from selfishly seeking the validation he needed. Your sheepish nod made him sigh sadly, though his cock twitched in anticipation.

"We can't have that, can we?" He tutted. "Let me make it up to you, pretty girl."

Instead of responding, you grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him down for a deep, passionate kiss. He lifted his hips up and shifted back to line himself up with your entrance. He ran himself through the wet folds a few times, coating his length and letting out a breath he didn’t realize was holding.

“Ready for me?" he brushed a few hairs away from your eyes.

You softly smiled to him, feeling a strange combination of dopey, leftover from the way he'd just made you finish, and jittery in anticipation for the way you knew he was about to make you feel.

“Mm-hmm.”

He notched the head in, eyelids fluttering, before he leaned forward to press another kiss to your mouth. It was similar to the ones you’d shared in the living room, all tenderness and care, and perhaps something more that you weren't willing to admit just yet, though it sat quietly in the back of your brain for another time.

When he finally pushed into you, you felt the lingering clouds your husband had brought with him finally dissipate. Things were sunny again, here, fully connected with the only man you truly cared for.

“Oh my god.” You nearly whispered, eyes shutting as your head rolled to the side.

Javier, for your sake, started with a slow and steady pace, but he could feel your heels digging into the small of his back, silently urging him for more. Experimentally, he gave you two thrusts harder than the previous ones, and you cried out in pleasure.

"You want me to go faster?" he asked with a teasing tone, picking his pace up to par with the thrusts he'd just given you.

As he sped up, he watched your face contort in pure arousal and he had to tell himself not to cum then and there. You were just so beautiful to him in every possible way- seeing you feel so good just for him was enough to send him to the afterlife happy.

Feeling Javier pick up speed, you felt fulfilled for the first time in days. His cock could reach so much deeper within you, hitting you so deeply you found it hard to breathe, though you wouldn't dare make him stop now. He was drilling so deeply and brushing the most sensitive areas over and over. You were barely conscious of the sounds leaving your mouth but you were sure in another light, you'd be embarrassed by them. But not now.

"He doesn't fuck you like this, huh?" Javier's voice was breathy yet deep, punctuating his sentence with his own moans and grunts to match yours.

"N-no, baby," your voice warbled as your whole body was rocked with his pounding.

He pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "That's right. Only me, right? Let me hear you say it," He babbled out.

You could tell he was already getting close. "Only you, Javi. Only you- shit," you hissed.

Javi let out an honest to god groan at your words. He wasn't sure why being possessive over you made him so painfully aroused, but with the way your pussy was squeezing him, he didn’t much care.

Suddenly, he reached back and maneuvered your legs so they were over his shoulders, the new angle moving his dick more shallowly yet no less powerfully. From here, he could lean even closer to you, and wrapped his lips around one of your peaked nipples. He bit gently at the bud, and the sharp sensation made you let out a punch of breath.

"Javi," you warned, feeling your second orgasm quickly creeping up on you as the head of his cock repeatedly hit your g-spot. "Javi, I'm gonna cum soon, don't stop, please." now you were the one babbling. You couldn't help it- he was making you feel impossibly good.

"Want us to cum together," he rushed out. He shifted his weight to one arm so he could slip his hand between your bodies. "Okay?"

You nodded quickly, focusing on the building sensation from his fucking combined with the new blossoming from his thumb rolling around your clit. Tears were pricking in the corners of your eyes.

"Missed fucking this pretty pussy so bad." He muttered out, hips beginning to slow as his own orgasm was barreling towards him.

"Uh-huh?" You managed, eyes wired shut.

You weren't sure how much longer you could take it; you felt your walls begin to flutter around him.

"Javi," you repeated once more, this time with more urgency.

"Cum with me, baby." his head dropped down, the muscles seemingly unable to do their job anymore. "Fuck, baby, I'm coming,"

Feeling him punch deeper into you as his orgasm racked through him, you let go. Your pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing harder than you were sure it ever had. You couldn't even moan- you were beyond it at that point. Your mouth fell open, breathing nearly stopping.

The two of you stayed this way, his length softening but still inside of you, holding each other close despite how sweaty you'd both become. When he finally did pull out, he rolled onto his back next to you and laced his fingers with yours.

Even though he was fully satisfied, something still remained unsettled within his chest. It felt like there were so many words he wanted, needed to say to you, yet he wasn't sure what any of them were. As he attempted to sift through his post-coital thoughts, he briefly felt bad for bringing up your spouse during sex. It was a battle he’d been having with himself in all the spare time over the last few days; he told himself he needed to remove your husband from the picture he had mentally painted of you. He didn’t need to tear down the other man to lift himself up- he knew you clearly wanted him, not the man you married. But something overcame him when he was inside of you- it was some sort of primal urge, one that made him beg for your sole affection like a schoolboy. And the way you reacted when he said it, well... that was enough to ease those thoughts out of his mind.

You looked over to Javier, his eyes shut but brow set deeply as if he were thinking hard about something. Knowing him, he probably was. You reached your free hand over and gently smoothed out the wrinkle between the eyebrows, and to your delight, you saw a twitch of a smile.

With a little effort and a small grunt, you muscled yourself up to sit on your elbow and cup his jaw, and leaned down to kiss him. Javier felt that familiar flip of his heart again, the one he’d managed to avoid over the last three days aside from seeing you in the office. Though there were no words being said, he felt such a strong connection to you in that moment. He kissed you back, of course, and felt a faint sting of tears behind his eyelids. He willed them away, unsure of their purpose anyways.

How were you always so gentle and understanding with him, even without speaking? Wasn’t he supposed to be the dominant one, the womanizing Javier Peña who never got attached? If that were true, why did he feel like his chest was crumbling in at your soft actions?

After a moment, he realized that this time, that heart flip, and probably also the tears, were followed by three words, banging against his lungs, begging to be let out.

He kept them in as best as he could, instead pressing a kiss into your hair and pulling you close.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

feedback/interactions always appreciated <333

let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in part 5!

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n and ranboo

this is an extra part to the great adventures series

summary: part two to the angst imagine (the not so great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo jack and ranboo) it’s a happier ‘ending’ please read what is written in bold

this is an “alternative ending” around 15 years into the future this doesn’t mean this is actually how the series is going to end im writing it now and including it as part of series as their friendship is already established i can confirm y/n and the group are going to have a happy ending when the series eventually comes to an end this also does not mean the series is anywhere near the end i plan on continuing the series as vlogs come out, i feel the need to confirm this now love between y/n and ranboo in this imagine is completely platonic

it had been about a month since you last streamed whereas ranboo continued to stream a few days after the fallout as he wanted to make sure you were going to be okay. even though ranboo knew this huge fallout would eventually happen, it still hurt him, especially since he knew there was no way to prevent it, the four of you in the same house mixed with the stress of being some of the most-watched content creators made living rather difficult. it was like walking on eggshells as you didn’t want to interrupt someone's stream, then there was the additional stress of obsessive fans finding out where the four of you lived, you still remember that day very vividly. you were sat in between tubbo and ranboo watching the office whilst Tommy was in an interview when you received a message from your mod.

Chris: hey y/n I received this message earlier I don’t want to scare you, but maybe get the locks changed. someone sent a message claiming this is your address *image of message from ‘fan’*

it didn’t take long for tubbo and ranboo to receive a message from their mods saying the same thing

“holy shit...”

“chances are Tommy has the message too. we shall go check around the house when Tommy is done with the interview.”

luckily no one ever showed up to the house, but the fact some people were so obsessed to the point they found your address was enough to put everyone in the house on edge. and now it was just you and ranboo in the house. you didn’t feel safe as even though ranboo promised to not let anything happen, you didn’t wanna risk it.

“we should move. there’s no point in having such a big house for two people, what are we going to use the extra space for heh? hide and seek with people who have our address. no thank you. I say we move leave this mess behind and start completely over, hell I’d feel safer in the us and that’s saying something”

ranboo agreed the house didn’t have the happiest memories attached to it anymore, it hurt walking past the hallway as it would bring back the memory of him crying into the crook of y/ns neck whilst tubbo left the house.

“let’s do it, I’ll do an early stream then we can look for houses. go take a shower. I’ll stay close to the door so you’re safe, then you can stay in my room whilst I stream, you can join me if you would like.”

“you’re being very protective all of a sudden...let me guess you got the message from our mods announcing the obsessive fans are at it again?”

“go take a shower.”

“no.”

ranboo ended up picking you up, carried you to the bathroom and turned the shower on before putting you on your feet.

“quick shower I’ll see you later.”

and with that he left the room shutting the door behind him, 30 minutes later you got changed and followed ranboo to his room ready to join him whilst he streams

“hey boo, can I join you? I kinda wanna get into streaming again.”

“I'm so glad you asked, I was going to do a face cam stream, if that’s okay?”

“of course.”

you grabbed his mask and glasses whilst he locked the door so you were both safe. “here you go.”

“thank you.”

the pair of you started the stream and it was honestly going well, you were having so much fun you forgot about all the negative things currently going on, you began to understand why ranboo continued streaming as for those 2-4 hours of streaming it felt as though everything was back to normal. 3 hours later the two of you ended stream and Twitter went crazy. tweets ranged from fans talking about how ranboo was streaming with you, how Tommy was in chat, and how tubbo was modding as people who mentioned anything about their address being leaked were banned by tubbo. the one thing that caught ranboos eye was fan art and a picture of you both from the stream captioned ‘they’re platonic soulmates your honour’ ranboo went as far to like, retweet and comment on it.

ranaltboo: glad you liked the stream it was great having y/n back, think I might make them play tattletail next stream

definitelynoty/n: isn’t that the Furby game that terrified you in 2021? bring it on boo!

Twitter went crazy over this interaction, you had finally come back to social media after months of being inactive, and it looked like you were here to stay. a month later you and ranboo moved out of the house and sold it to your aunt and her wife and their three adopted children, you explained the situation and even changed the locks for them all before they moved in.

“Please do tell us if anyone shows up who shouldn’t be. we changed the locks as you were aware- oh hello little one.”

you noticed one of their children decided to cling onto your leg

“I like your hair it’s colourful!”

“Indeed it is.”

“WOAH A GIANT!”

the little girl let go of your leg and ran to ranboo asking to be picked up, unsure of what to do he looked towards you. however, you were too busy laughing about the fact he was compared to a giant.

“I'm so sorry uh if you want to pick her up you can, you don’t have to.”

“pick me up, tall man... I want to be taller!”

ranboo ended up standing next to you with an arm around your waist whilst the child sat on his shoulders happily playing with his hair.

“ranboo do not drop that child.”

“I didn't- I didn't plan on it y/n.”

eventually, it was time to leave and the child reluctantly let go of ranboo.

“bye-bye!! hope to see you soon!”

soon enough you were at a smaller house, far away from the old house, leaving behind the negative feelings. it could only get better, a week later the pair of you had settled into the new house, it finally felt like home. you and ranboo were now streaming full time again, safe to say the two of you were thriving and closer than ever.

“so I’m thinking if I hit the sub-goal today I’ll let chat pick what colour I dye my hair.”

“make it higher, and I’ll let you cut my hair.”

“Are you being serious? oh my god!”

a few minutes later you took to Twitter to announce you were going live.

y/n: kidnapping children in the sims with ranboo psst check the subgoal.

within 20 minutes you had hit the sub-goal, chat ended up picking another random neon colour for your hair.

“right hair dye and the cutting stream will be this weekend, now let’s go back to kidnapping.”

tubbo, tommy, and jack felt awful for what happened and went back to the house where you used to live, hoping to see you there so they could apologise, tubbo knocked on the door only to be met by a young child.

“my sister watches you on twitch!”

“oh that’s lovely.. are y/n and ranboo here?”

an older woman came to the door.

“oh no, I’m sorry dear they both moved out, but they left this box and said to give it to you if you returned.”

“do you know where they moved to?”

“I'm sorry dear, I'm not allowed to tell you that information for safety reasons.”

“I understand, thanks anyway.”

they ended up going back to jacks where the three of them had been staying.

“We should open the box.”

tubbo opened the box and emptied the items onto the floor, inside was the rocks y/n handed tubbo from every trip, photos of the group, a necklace y/n had gifted to Tommy a day before the argument, and a hat y/n had taken from jack during a trip to a zoo.

“what the fuck!”

“holy shit!”

“they really kept all these in hopes we would come back?”

“and now we’re too late.”

it was now the weekend you and ranboo were ready to stream, you stood leaning on ranboo who was significantly smaller than you as you lowered the chair he sat on.

“starting stream...now.”

after the starting soon intro played, you explained what was happening to any new viewers or people who didn’t watch the stream.

“so I’m about to become Edward Scissorhands...I love that film can we watch it later?”

“yeah mhm sure!”

you didn’t know this but your ex best friends were watching and ever so often would show up in the chat.

“so boo, what are we doing with your hair today?”

“just a trim please darling?”

“This is y/ns hairdressers you get what I’m capable of!”

you ended up doing a pretty good job of cutting ranboos hair, even he was impressed.

“I didn’t doubt you for a minute!”

“mhm sure thing please don’t mess up my hair tall one!”

soon enough you had the dye on. 45 minutes later you left to wash it off, leaving ranboo to entertain stream,

“chat I think I missed some of their hair it’s okay, I own scissors, I’ll just cut it.. speaking of they did a great job, didn't they? I honestly expected them to mess up.”

a few minutes later you joined ranboo again and spent the next few hours talking with chat. tubbo, tommy, and jack stayed the entire time. they loved the fact you and ranboo were able to stay close after what happened, Tommy noticed you were still wearing the necklace he got you many years ago and spammed them chat with him tubbo and jack

Tommy: THEYRE WEARING THE NECKLACE!!

jack: so what? they clearly don’t wanna talk to us.

tubbo: shut up listen to them.

“chat why are we spamming platonic soulmates?”

“they’ve been saying it all over Twitter, look on trending y/n.”

you started to blush slightly at all the amazing artwork soon enough the stream came to an end, after saying goodbye the pair of you sat together going through fan art. unfortunately the one that caught your eye was this one twitter post where the artist had created a drawing of a piece of paper with you, ranboo, tommy, tubbo, and jack, however the paper was ripped separating you and ranboo from the others, captioned ‘it was never meant to be’ this clearly upset ranboo as he took off his mask and glasses placing them on the desk before going straight to his bed.

“boo…are you okay?”

“Are you tired of me? are you going to leave next?”

“what? no of course not! I could never get tired of you, why do you ask?”

“everyone else has left..i thought they cared about us, i knew it would happen eventually and i couldn’t stop it, i’m sorry, y/n, please don’t hate me.”

you sat on the edge of the bed looking down at the floor,

“come here.”

you watched him roll over to face you.

“you know there’s no one else who I'd rather spend the rest of my life with, right…if i hated you i wouldn’t have moved house with you. it’s not your job to fix everything and make everything better, you’re a streamer for christ sake not a therapist.”

“i guess so.. can we watch that thing you were on about for ages.”

“edward scissorhands? “

“mhm!”

you could tell he wanted to be distracted, so you agreed and put the film on, towards the end you began to get upset due to how overwhelming everything was.

“Why are you crying?”

“poor Edward.”

“come here.”

ranboo pulled you into a hug you laid there crying into his chest, he knew that wasn’t the reason you were crying, but he wasn’t about to make you tell him, luckily it didn’t take long for you to stop crying as ranboo quickly distracted you.

“ranboo..”

“yeah y/n?”

“I feel bad i didnt realise how much pressure was on you whilst everyone was arguing.”

“Hey, it’s okay, is that what’s upsetting you?”

“mhm.”

“don’t blame yourself, i’d do it all over again to keep you safe and happy..then again i didn’t do a good job on keeping you happy.”

“you did..you were always there for me even when i gave up on social media, you shared your room with me after i started receiving creepy messages from that obsessed fan, hell you even went on adventures with me even though it was clear you hadn’t been sleeping, just so we could spend time together and forget about what was happening. you mean a lot to me boo.”

“i love you.”

“i love you too bud, I’m tired.”

“go to sleep, it’s been a long day.”

“okay.”

“you just staying there?”

“yes.”

“oh, oh okay, goodnight.”

about a year later the two of you were still thriving, ranboo got you a promise ring a few months earlier.

“heh what’s this for?”

“as your best friend i promise to stay by your side and keep you safe and make sure that you’re happy, in other words you're stuck with me till the end of time.”

“boo…i really don’t know what to say.. thank you so much!”

“you don’t have to say anything!”

you ended up going out to buy him a promise ring when he started the stream and decided to take your cousins with you now that they were a little older. ranboo was doing a facecam stream when the door slammed open revealing you covering your three younger cousins ranboo not realising you were hiding them from the camera, instinctively stood up covering the camera

“ranboooooo!”

“yes you three and y/n ,what do you need?”

“we would like to watch a film!”

“Okay, i’ll go put one on, y/n will you entertain chat?”

“sure thing boo boy!”

once they left you sat fixing your hair forgetting you were wearing the ring chat noticed this and went crazy, so did Tommys group with tubbo and jack.

tubbo: that’s a ring, right??

jack: yeah looks like it.

Tommy: holy shit I always thought if anyone was gonna get married it would be tubbo and y/n, they were inseparable.

tubbo: hilarious.

jack: it could just be a ring, no one mentioned marriage tommy!

Tommy: we should congratulate them.

jack: at least let them explain fucking hell.

soon enough ranboo came back into the room,

“sorry one of them found it hilarious to steal my glasses...”

“they’re little shits i swear to god but i love them.”

you both noticed chat going crazy and both looked at each other before laughing.

“i'm sorry, i can’t take you serious in the mask and glasses!”

“i can’t take you serious with neon hair, but here we are!”

“rude!”

you and ranboo quickly put an end to the rumours,

“no we’re not engaged or married, it is a promise ring. no they’re not our children, they’re y/ns cousins they just spend a lot of time here..chat stop calling me and y/n parents and comparing us to phil that’s not..that’s not how it works okay!”

“parent arc!”

“y/n, don’t encourage them!”

“it’s a little bit funny!”

soon enough the bit came to an end and eventually ranboo ended the stream.

“hey boo look what i got you”

you handed him a little black box, inside was a ring similar to yours

“i promise to always stick around and be here for you”

“oh my god”

ranboo tackled you into a hug thanking you several times for his rings. you and ranboo were living your best life meanwhile jack, tommy, and tubbo were stuck dealing with the guilt of what happened, but they’re weren’t giving up that easy. they wanted you both back, that’s when you received a notification, tommyinnit has sent you a message request: hey y/n can we talk..please?

taglist

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

[trueshellz]

Hey could I get something where kyoutani, diachi, and iwazumi react to finding out you when you just didn’t eat for months, when you were younger and you fainted

Hey hun. Thanks for the request. I tried making each one a little different but with the same theme.

Warnings: eating disorders, anxiety, tube feeding mentioned, PTSD, family death mentioned, bullying, body dysmorphia, spanking (out of place but Kyoutani warranted it), injury.

Kyoutani:

"Why did you mother ask me to make sure you eat regularly? She makes it sound like we have no food in the apartment or something. Does she think I'm not earning enough to provide for us?"

You stopped what you were doing, hands pausing on the knife as you cut the vegetables for dinner. You really hoped your mum wouldn't drop anything about your battle with food when she came around earlier, she had been so worried when you decided to move in with your boyfriend.

Apparently that wish was in vain.

"Err....so, you see-"

"Drop the shit. Tell me or I'll call her back and ask her instead. And your butt will pay for it later too."

You sighed long and hard, glaring at Kyoutani as he stood there with his hand on his hips. There was no way you were winning this argument.

"I... Ken-"

His hand suddenly resting on the back of you knuckles was the only change in his mood, eyes still staring holes into you with a frown on his face.

"I... had some trouble with food when I was younger... didn't eat for a while and ended up passing out."

"How long is 'a while'?"

"A few weeks?"

The tightening of his jaw was the only indication of his mood, you could see the small tick in his jaw and the grip on your hand increased, only a little, but it was enough for you to realise. He nodded for you to proceed, thumb back to rubbing small circles on your skin.

"My... my mum... she found me on the floor in the bathroom... I think I was having a bath or something.... I don't think the image ever left her to be honest." You paused. "I'm sor-"

"Don't apologise for that shit. Ever. I'll make sure you eat... even if I have to tie you up and feed you myself."

"Kinky." You snorted a laugh, turning into a yelp as he landed a slap on your ass as he walked to the fridge.

Daichi:

Unpacking your apartment was the worst thing ever, you decided. Between finding what you needed and putting it in the right place, it was driving you up the wall. Daichi was in the living room unpacking the shared collection books that you had, while you were in the kitchen fighting with the unmatched chopsticks.

"Hey babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Come here a sec."

You found him surrounded by yearbooks, all open on the same page- your class.

"So, you're here, here and here." Daichi pointed at each picture of you through the years you were there. "But not here."

His finger landed on the page exactly where you would have been alphabetically, between your best friends. A small trickle of anxiety worked its way down your spine, you remembered that year vividly. It had been after a close family death and it had hit you very hard, you had trouble sleeping and eating. The latter causing more problems, your brother had watched you wither away even when you said you were okay.

The final straw came when you passed out at school one day, walking through the corridors between lessons and the next thing you knew, you woke up in hospital. They had been close to tube feeding you with how much weight you had lost. Lots of therapy and counselling later, you had a better relationship with food but the scars were still there.

You hadn't realised that you had tears running down your face as you retold him the story until Daichi wiped them away. His warm hands cupping your face, thumb wiping away the tears as he kissed your forehead. Arms wrapping around you and bundling you into his lap, his scent washing over you as he held you close.

"It's ok. I got you. You're not alone in this, I'll help ok? Lean on me, it's what I'm here for."

Iwaizumi:

"You okay there, doll? You've gone a little pale."

Hand resting on your forehead, Iwaizumi stepped close as you sat in the restaurant. The menu in your hands suddenly going blurry, writing smearing as you tried to focus on choosing something to eat. Your palms suddenly sweaty, heart beating in your ears as you quickly got up and left the restaurant. The cold air hit your skin, chills running through your body as you realised you had left-

"Here."

Your jacket was draped over your shoulders as Iwaizumi stood next to you. Not touching, just stood silently as you stared into space, his arms barely touching yours as you took some deep breaths in.

"I..." You took a deep breath, "I had some trouble with food when I was in high school. I was your typical chubby kid who got bullied. Where everyone was slim and had these great figures, I had bumps and lumps in places they didn't. No matter what I did or said... what I ate... it didn't stop. So I didn't eat." You sniffed, eyes watering as you continued. "It was good for a while... the bullying stopped and I was slimmer on the outside, I guess? But when I looked in the mirror all I could see whay the body I hated and was trying to get rid of."

His arm came around you, pulling your to his chest as you felt his lips in your hair. Hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as you wiped your eyes, sure that the mascara you had was now rings on your face.

"We had P.E one day, netball or something, and I remember jumping.... and then nothing. I woke up to my mum crying, a cast on my leg because I landed badly. It took months of rehab to get myself back to my old habits but now... eating out kinda scares me. I know it's stupid and-"

"It's not stupid."

You peered up at him, his eyes soft even though his expression hasn't changed. His hand brushed your hair back and turned you to face him.

"It's not stupid at all. You went through something traumatic and you reacted how you thought best. But the relationship you have with food is still fragile and that's understandable. We don't have eat out."

"But-"

"Don't do that. Don't deflect and worry about me, that's my job. I'm supposed to look after you, doll. How about we go to the supermarket and you choose something we can make together? And we buy something small that's premade... like some dumplings or some mochi?"

You could manage that... you thought.

"But Hajime..."

A soft kiss on your lips silenced you, hands cupping you face as he leaned into you.

"Let's take one day at a time, ok?

[mango-bango-bby]

Could you please write something where Hawks has a nightmare? Maybe darling isn’t super comfy with him yet but they try to comfort him 👉🏼👈🏼

♡ I’m Safe ♡

(A/N: This was kinda sad to write, I feel bad for Keigo in this 🥺🥺 Luckily he has a lovely darling to comfort him 🥺💖💞💗💕💓)

Summary: Keigo has a terrible nightmare of you getting hurt, you wake up to this and comfort him (Yan!Hawks x GN!reader)

(⚠️Warning: Mentions blood, bruises, and death to reader in Keigos nightmare⚠️)

You can feel Keigos arms around your waist and wings wrapping around your body. You try to keep your breathing even but it’s hard to do that when you’re on the arms of your captor, one of his hands stroking your hair. You try feel the bed shaking but surprisingly it’s not from you trembling, like normal. But, this time it was Keigo that was trembling.

Although when you think about it, Keigo’s acting the way you normally do. Trembling, breathing heavily, if you really listen you can here the occasional sniff and whispers of reassurance. To himself, you can tell. You can feel yourself unconsciously shuffle closer into his grip, he just seems sad... you’ve never seen Keigo act this way, even after weeks and weeks of being his hostage.

“O-oh, little bird. You’re awake, I thought you were sleeping” Even Keigos voice sounded shaken up. Keigo moved one of his hands to run through some of his blonde hair. You’ve never really seen your captor so human. You always viewed him as an obsessive stalker. And, sure, he was those things. But, he seemed scared and sad, and you never really saw him so vulnerable.

“A-are you ok?” You ask, pushing away from Keigo a bit so you can get see the look on his face. Keigo only lets out a small snicker before cupping your face in both of his hands, “Worrying about me, dove? That’s sweet”  He continues “Just a nightmare, that’s all”

You move your head out of Keigos hands, now letting your head rest against the fluffy pillow. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask softly, your voice soothing him the more you spoke. You normally don’t talk to Keigo so calmly, but your mind isn’t registering him as your kidnapper right now. You seem like you two are actually in a relationship.

Keigo lets out a sigh before holding you close again. “It was you. Something or someone hurt you, really badly” Keigo murmurs, the images of you bloodied and bruised flashing through his mind. It was horrible. He can vividly see you on the cold concrete, hear your sweet voice calling out for him, feel you cling onto him and beg him to save you.

“I wasn’t able to help you” Keigo says, he knows that he’s simplifying how terrible his dream truly was. He can remember feeling you go limp in his arms, feeling your body grow cold as he begged you to stay with him and not to leave him alone.

Keigos eyes snap open when he feels you begin to rub his back on the space in between his wings. Your hands are so soft and delicate against his skin. “I-” you pause, wondering even why you’re trying to comfort him “I’m right here. I’m safe”

You can feel Keigos arms grip tighter around your waist, almost painfully so. But you let him as it’s clearly calming him down. Keigo wishes you were more like this, you’re normally so scared of him. But, you’re being so good today. He’s glad it’s today, he’s glad you’re in his arms.

[yuujism]

Sun and Night. (gojo satoru x reader)

Chapter 4: Love.

← chapter 3 | chapter 5 (soon) →

| PAIRINGS: gojo satoru x gn!reader ; mentions of getou suguru x reader x gojo satoru

| WARNINGS: angst, a lil bit of hurt/no comfort, suggestive language, toxic behaviour, toxic coping mechanism, just really toxic, more angst, grammar errors, mentions of unrequited love, straight up angst

| WORD COUNT: idk lol i’ll count later

| A/N: well! this story is about to end in the next chapter and i actually like writing it but the ending uh... idk maybe some of y’all won’t like the ending bc it will probably hurt a lot... or maybe not!! also this chapter mostly looks into both satoru and the reader’s feelings but who knows lol i like ambiguity!! i hope you like it and enjoy !!

summary;

You and Satoru were in love.

You were so deeply in love, just not with each other.

Where you and Satoru found comfort in each other after the accident happened.

There was nothing.

A blink of an eye.

A shattering moment.

And the sound of your name.

There was nothing but regret when Satoru did the unthinkable, anxiety filling his body as the only thing he deemed important to hide from you was suddenly out there for your ears to hear, surprise adorning your face as your chest rised up an down with heavy breathing.

A few seconds passed, seconds that felt like hours as your eyes, open wide and cold, connected with the eyes of the man who was on top of you, the dim moonlight hitting the side of his face glistening with sweat. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what just happened, not even the familiar sensation of Satoru still inside of you.

Everything was broken now.

“I-I just...”

“I should leave.” you interrupted whatever Satoru had to say because, honestly, you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t hear it.

There was a brief moment of a last form of inimacy when he slipped out of you, an involuntary moan leaving both of your mouths before you could even stop it. It was an intimacy that felt awkward, like something that was suddenly thrown right into your face after months of ignoring it, and you didn’t want anything but to escape this realisation.

Stupid. You were so stupid to even think this was a good idea for both you and Satoru.

As you gathered your clothes that were all over the floor, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him behind you, but, God, the way his gaze was burning holes onto the back of your head made you feel light-headed with nervousness.

Words were left unspoken between the walls of the still steamy room as you walked out, a low ‘I’m sorry’ reaching Satoru’s ears in form of a whisper before the sound of a door closing left him all alone with his thoughts.

“I’m such an idiot!” Hands went to cover his face as his back landed on the mattress, ashamed of his own recklessness and careless behaviour. Why did you have to apologise? To him out of all people. He should be the one swallowing his pride and ask for forgiveness. He was the one who fucked up.

Satoru knew everything was ruined now. God, if only he could forget the look on your face when your name escaped his lips. It was obvious you were shocked, scared even. You both had unwritten rules that were not supposed to be broken nor discussed, one of them being that nothing was and never would be personal or emotional between the two parties.

This should’ve ended as soon as the memories of his best friend started being replaced with memories of you.

But it felt so good. It was wrong, but it felt so good.

He felt like the biggest scum of the earth as he found the same comfort Suguru made him feel between your arms, it almost felt like he was using you. But weren’t you doing the same? Wasn’t that the whole point of this? Those questions were easy to answer: yes. You were doing the same. This was nothing but pure selfishness from the two of you but, after all, one side was always more selfish.

You were smarter. You didn’t get blinded by your own heart like Satoru did, never losing the point of this sick arrangement as your mind kept being packed with images of a certain sorcerer with long, black hair. It almost seemed as if you never really saw Satoru as himself, and that made his heart ache with pain and anger.

Because, yes, Satoru hated you the same way he hated him: he didn’t.

Idiot.

You kept ignoring Satoru in the hallways, with the only difference that, this time, it wasn’t out of hatred or a sense of uninvolvement. No, nothing like that. You were completely avoiding him at all costs. Looking down at your feet as you walked past him, as if locking eyes with him would make you relive that night. Leaving in a hurry whenever he entered the same room as you, as if his mere presence burned you. Talking quickly about the student’s missions, as if wanting to spend as little time as possible close to his presence.

He was an idiot.

The encounters between you came to a stop since that slip up, and Satoru tried his best to not think about it. About you. Please, just don’t think at all. But he couldn’t. The pictures of your body, the melody of your voice calling out for more, the softness in your fingertips as you caressed his back. He needed you back to himself and he was willing to do anything. Anything. Even if that meant burying his feelings 6 feet under the surface.

Satoru felt sorry to the memory of his best friend, and disgusted with himself. He couldn’t believe the way he thought he was above you regarding the feelings towards Suguru, reaching the point to yell at you about how you didn’t love him. Oh, how wrong he was. How wrong he was for underestimating your feelings and your will to never budge with them.

You would budge for me, though, that’s what he thought.

That’s what he confidently hoped.

It wasn’t like the mere idea of developing feelings of Satoru didn’t cross your mind. It did. Countless of times, mostly during those nights where Satoru was away in a mission or when you just didn’t feel like seeing him. Those blue eyes invaded your mind from time to time. Too bright, too confident and too different.

You still remember vividly that quick flash of his gaze piercing through your soul as you both reached that sweet high the other night. At the same time. Together. And even if you wanted to ignore it, as you selfishly always did, you knew something shifted. Wether it was in you or Satoru, no power on earth would make you discuss the newfound sensations Satoru brought along with him.

Ignorance is bliss.

A sentence that stuck with you since the day Suguru’s fate was written, deciding to apply it at everything and anything that was related to the arrangement between you and Satoru. At the beginning, it was difficult.

Ignore his large, warm hands on your skin and the tingling sensation they left behind in a fiery trail and focus on him, his image. This wasn’t him, it would never be him. But it felt real. Ignore the way his breath hit the side of your neck the same way his did, throwing you back to almost forgotten memories of silly jokes and giggles. Ignore every single detail.

Ignore him.

Suddenly, you didn’t have to put much thought into it. It started feeling easy, automatic even. You no longer had to doubt yourself or your feelings, listening to your head rather than your heart. You were certain Satoru did the the same, he was selfish enough to not think about anyone but himself, walking forward without hesitation. He didn’t think of you: he was thinking of himself, Suguru and quick pleasure. Just like you.

You wished you could’ve noticed before it was too late.

Fate always conspired against you, you already knew it, and this moment was a clear example of that. That same warm hand that made you feel reach bliss during countless of night was now firmly wrapped around your wrists, stopping you in the middle of the hallway as you made your way to your next location. You knew it was him without having to turn around. His hot touch was already engraved into your mind before you could avoid it.

“Let’s talk” It certainly wasn’t a question, words slipping out of his mouth before you could even move your hand away or create an excuse to avoid this situation. “... Please...” Satoru almost choked at the plead, as if it was the hardest thing to say after ‘I’m sorry’. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do this if he couldn’t even ask properly.

Now, you had two options: run away or accept talking with him. You knew the simplest way was running away, never getting out of your comfort zone as you left Satoru behind with whatever he had to say. But somewhere deep within you told you to listen to him, to face your feelings and suck it up for once. Just this once.

A defeating sigh came out of you as you pulled your wrist away from his grip, turning around to face him. Blue fiery eyes were now tiredly yet hopefully looking at you, waiting for whichever answer you decided on. You gulped harshly, the forming knot on your throat becoming way too uncomfortable at the thought of someone walking into this scene.

“Alright. Let’s make this quick. Follow me.”

The walk to your office was silent and filled with an awkwardness that couldn’t be fixed. When the silence and cool breeze of the walls of your space hit the both of you, it was when everything became even more strange. Being alone with Satoru in a room wasn’t a new situation, however, there were some really raw feelings accompanying you this time as your eyes locked with each other, you leaning against your desk as he leaned against the wall.

You waited for him to speak first, scrutinising him under your gaze as he played with his dark glasses in one hand, as if he was bored. Your eye twitched in annoyance. Satoru must’ve sent your uneasiness, taking a deep breath before letting it out in a loud blow. He felt nervous for what he was about to say, even if he rehearsed it in his mind a million times, it seemed as if it just went flying through a window when he was under your observation.

More seconds passed with Satoru fidgeting around and you grew even more impatient.

Fuck it.

“Look, if you won’t say anything then—“

“I’m not sorry.”

What?

Your eyes opened wide with surprise and confusion, trying to find some type of amusement in Satoru’s expression just to choke a gasp when you didn’t find any. Out of everything you expected him to say, out of everything you expected him to do, you didn’t really expect him to basically be the usual cocky asshole with a god complex as those words slipped out of his mouth.

Unbelievable.

It was impossible to ignore the way your body was heating up with raw anger and annoyance. Not even after what happened that night was Satoru able to get out of his high horse.

“Are you serious right now?” Your question was empty, it didn’t need an actual answer because you already knew he was dead serious. The pain in the side of your head appeared and you inhaled deeply. Calm down. “Let me see if I understand: you brought me here—“

“Technically, I didn’t bring you here, you di—“

“Fuck, shut the hell up for once, please!” And he did. Satoru didn’t open his mouth to complain and you were grateful. Another deep breath. “That’s all you had to say to me? That you’re not sorry? Not sorry for what, Gojo?” You asked incredulously, looking for his eyes that were now showing shock at the use of his last name.

You waited for his answer. It seemed Satoru was an expert at letting the seconds slip away from both of your hands, but you were tired. You couldn’t be patient with Satoru anymore.

Letting out an annoyed snort at Satoru’s silence and lack of confrontation, you walked towards the door past his figure the seemed to be frozen on the spot. Your hand was inches away from

doorknob when the warm sensation of Satoru’s touch invaded your body again, heart quickly beating involuntarily and you cursed at yourself internally for that. And moments before you could even react, there was his voice again.

Your name.

Your head turned like a reflex, and you swore that, for a brief moment, you saw those sly dark eyes staring right at you instead of ice blue ones.

It wasn’t a sweet tone like you remembered him saying it, instead, your name coming past his lips sounded rougher, dangerous even, yet something was oddly familiar. His voice still held that adoration of that night, communicating a promise Satoru was going to keep.

And it scared you. Satoru’s possible adoration towards you scared you.

“I’m not sorry” Satoru repeated again, breathing getting stuck on his chest and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes filled with decisiveness. “I’m not sorry for actually looking at you that night.”

Your breath hitched. Stop.

“I’m not sorry for aching to be with you and feel you when you’re away from me.”

Please, stop. You were starting to feel dizzy. There was no way this was happening right now.

“I’m not sorry for thinking of you the same way I thought of him.”

What happened next was all a blur, emotions crawling up your body as adrenaline hearing what Satoru said after mentioning Suguru again. You just couldn’t bear it anymore.

You still remember the sound of your name being called behind you, desperation and fear filling his voice as your legs moved on their own towards nowhere in particular but far from that room. Far from him.

Escape. Don’t look back. Escape, escape, escape.

It wasn’t until you found yourself outside of your room that you became aware of time and your surroundings. You don’t know how much die you run for you to reach your own place, or how much did you just stand in the middle of a silent room with the ghosts of a rough voice and soft touches.

You crumbled down like you did the same day you saw Suguru for first time after his sentence.

The recent events kept coming to your mind in the form of sharp daggers, engraving the image of a fiery gaze that seemed firm on staying on your mind for as long as it wanted. You were exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and you wanted to escape once again.

That night, you fell asleep as the memory of a familiar scent drowned your mind along with the words that made your heart ache with an unknown feeling.

“I’m not sorry for loving you.”

[skiller0dani]

Obliviate | Draco Malfoy

M A S T E R L I S T Harry Potter Masterlist

very sad (light) smut requested requests info

this is so sad. I’m sorryyyyy. also if you wanted to set the mood more, I listened to THIS while writing it. Please listen to it, it wont be the same without the song lmao

Part 1/10 (Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)(Part 9)(Part 10)

Draco had thought back to every other time in his life where he had felt like this, and nothing came to mind. There wasn’t another second of his torturous life that felt like this. He tended to count his blessings where he had them, and you were a blessing in his life. One that he woke up every single day thanking God for, Draco isn’t sure he’d ever love anyone the way he loves you. But he knew from the start, that the two of you were doomed, two lovers caught on each side of the war. His Father in direct relation with the Dark Lord, and you- Harry Potter’s cousin. There was a target on your back from the second you got to Hogwarts all those years ago and when Draco had first met you- he didn’t understand just how much danger you were already in. 

Nobody looked at Draco the way you did, nobody looked at him like he was worth saving. But when you looked at him, you saw something in him that he didn’t even see in himself. Draco believes that he was never a good person until he met you, and even then whether or not he was good is still up to debate. You inspire people to be better, to be good and if there is no good- you create it. You are a light in an everlasting darkness, and he doesn’t deserve you. But selfishly he wants to keep you- and he knows you’d never voluntarily leave him. He had to make the choice for you. You can’t stubbornly stand by his side if you don’t remember you’re in love with him. 

The Black Lake looks darker than Draco remembered it being. The view he currently held from the astronomy tower was beautiful in it’s own way, but now that he held every memory you have of him in his hands- the beauty seemed to slip out of the world. Looking down at the small vial in his hands, the vial containing your memories of him, his bottom lip quivers. He can’t stand how emotional you make him, you make him feel both weak and strong at the same time. His hand curls around the vial, Draco knows this is what he needs to do. He never expected it to be this hard though. 

Closing his eyes, Draco decided to take one last walk down memory lane before he would destroy your memories of him forever. 

The first time you had met Draco was when you were stood on the steps next to your cousin, Harry. Draco was stood in front of you, and although his eyes were on Harry- the blush on his cheeks came from being so close to you. Draco had held his head high, even when you snapped at him and told him how wonderful you found Ron to be. Draco always admired your sharp tongue, your unwillingness to step down when you felt passionately about something. He’s going to miss being your voice of reason, or the hand that holds you back when you’re ready to literally fight for what you believe in. You always say what you’re really thinking, how you’re really feeling. That’s something Draco has never really had the strength to do. If he did he would have said he loved you more often, and perhaps would have told Harry that he doesn’t hate him. 

Draco vividly remembers the first time you looked at him, and saw him in a way nobody else does. Not even Crabbe and Goyle. He was sat in the back corner of the Library, hiding away from everyone and everything after receiving yet another disappointed letter from his Father. You’d been gathering books to study for Potions when you spotted him sitting secluded, alone. You didn’t hesitate to go sit next to him, and when you looked over at him you saw every emotion he carefully hid from the world written plainly on his face. As if you had the only key to unlock the innermost parts of his brain. After a few minutes of gentle coaxing, Draco eventually began to open up to you about his Father and in return you opened up about your terrible parents. About how abusive they were to Harry- how much that hurt you. Draco hadn’t given it a second thought when you revealed you were muggle born. Really Draco didn’t mind, nor did it offend him in the way he acted it did but for his Father Draco must keep up appearances. 

He still feels guilty remembering how you recoiled away from him when he had spat the word ‘mudblood’ in your direction. He feels guilty as he remembers the tears trickling down your cheeks. Even that feeling paled in comparison to the way Draco feels now. 

Draco remembers the first time you kissed him, and yes much to his embarrassment it was you that kissed him. You always were someone who went after what you wanted. He was in the Hospital wing after Buckbeak attacked him. Despite him being the biggest prat you’d ever met, you still went to see him anyway. You sat next to Draco in the bed, seeing the tears well in his eyes at the revelation Buckbeak would be executed. Sure he was angry the stupid thing attacked him but never would he want Buckbeak killed for it. Draco wasn’t entirely surprised to learn his Father had threatened the committee in order for Buckbeak to be sentenced. It’s not Draco that his Father cared about, it’s the family image. You had cupped his cheeks, and gently pressed your lips to his. It was the only thing you could think to do to soothe him, and it worked. Draco melted against you, his sorrows briefly muted by the feeling of your lips on his own. He thinks he might have fallen in love with you right at that moment. 

The first time you went to Hogsmeade with him was the following year, during the winter. Your cheeks were rosy and your hand was as cold as ice around his warmer palm. He remembers you squealing with excitement as it began to snow again, the soft flakes fluttering gently around you. You truly did look like an angel. The snow stuck to your hair as you turned to look at him, “make a snowman with me!” Your voice was lilted, almost melodic as the happiness you felt carried over into your tone. While Draco didn’t normally do silly things like making snowmen, he couldn’t fight the smile that split across his face as he helped you roll the bottom of the snowman. Before that moment, Draco never knew joy like that even existed. It was only later that he discovered that this kind of joy only existed when he was with you. 

The first time the words ‘I love you’ graced the space between your lips was when you’d both met at the astronomy tower at midnight. The stars were twinkling beautifully, but even so Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You blushed, refusing to meet his eye. You were always insecure, which baffled Draco immensely. How could you believe any other girl is anywhere close to being as pretty as you? There’s not another woman on the face of this Earth that compares to you, and you would often giggle and tell him to stop when he would begin his long ‘you’re the most beautiful girl’ rant. You had led Draco to believe, that maybe he and Harry could find peace. You were in fact, the only thing they had in common. The words fell right out of his mouth before he could pause to give them any thought. “I love you,” The air seemed to stiffen around him, crushing him as he watched you. You didn’t hesitate. 

“I love you Draco.” It was the best moment of his life. 

Draco will never forget the first time he was allowed to see the beauty of your bare skin. You’d think it would be easier to find places to be alone in this great big castle, eventually Draco had settled for the edge of the Black Lake- far from the castle. The journey out to the Lake had started innocently, the both of you quite enjoyed star gazing and spending your evenings together. You’d been sitting next to him, watching the large tentacles of the monster that lives in the Lake toss you things from the depths. You really did have a way in bringing out the good in everything, you’d even managed to befriend the monster that lives in the Lake. “Wow look at this,” your voice was quiet with amazement as you turned over a beautiful amulet in your hands. It was simple, silver chain with a white gem that shone as brightly as the moon. The Lake monster had given it to you, and Draco remembers the soft sigh that left your lips as his hands graced the back of your neck, fastening the amulet. 

Draco remembers the delicate way you turned to face him, how your eyes never left his as you carefully slid onto his lap. Your hands were placed on his shoulders as your lips met in a slow and languid kiss. The searing heat built between you two and seemed to draw your most intimate parts together. Without realizing, you’d begun to gently grind against Draco- drawing out soft moans from his lips. Never before had Draco felt this kind of desire for another person. His hands slid up your back and carefully removed each layer of clothing that was in between him and your bare skin. Your skin was flushed as Draco’s lips explored your naked body, carefully turning you over so that he would hover above you. You gripped fistfuls of the grass as Draco had found his home in between your legs, laving your sensitive folds with his tongue and mouth. It felt like heaven, and he knew it did. He could see it on your face, and you looked so beautiful. 

The desire burning inside you began to beat between your legs like a drum as you pulled Draco back up your body. Nuzzling his nose against yours, Draco slipped the head of his member in between your folds. The thought of hurting you made him feel sick to his stomach, but with a few gentle words of encouragement from you, he was gently working himself inside your tight heat. The feeling was incomparable, indescribable, suffocating, and intoxicating all at the same time. Draco knew that here on the grass, between your legs, was somewhere he wanted to be forever. If he could capture this moment in something more than his minds eye he would, he wants this memory to live forever. He rocked into you again and again, losing himself in the way your body felt against his. Never had Draco felt so connected to another person, you had him, mind body and soul. He was falling into that pit now, no doubt about it, and there was no way out. He was head over heels in love, not that he minded. 

Draco would do anything to keep you safe, and he really means that. 

Draco had grown distant from you this year, mostly because of the swirling black tattoo on his left forearm. The Dark Mark. He knew in an instant that you had to stay as far from him as humanly possible, and while he tried to stay away, he was weak and kept falling back into your embrace. He needed to convince you to stay away from him, and if he couldn’t...then he had to make you. You’d confronted him this evening, with tears in your eyes and a tremble in your hands. You wanted, needed, to know what was going on. Why he felt so far away from you. So Draco pressed a kiss to your forehead, took your hand, and led you here. To the Astronomy tower, a place where so many monumentous things happened between you. This would be the perfect place to say goodbye. 

You staggered back when he lifted his sleeve. The breath was stolen from your lungs when you saw the Dark Mark, writhing and wriggling on his arm. Tears built in your eyes as you looked at him, his name falling past your broken lips. How could this have happened? How could he let this happen? You wanted to scream, to tear your hair out, to cry, to do anything but your body wouldn’t let you. You simply stood frozen before him, feeling as though the most powerful force in the world was tearing the two of you apart. The next words out of his mouth shattered you beyond repair. 

“You need to stay away from me, for your own good. And for Harry’s.” It was the first time he’d ever used Harry’s first name, that’s how you knew he really meant this. But you couldn’t, you loved Draco with every ounce of your heart, how could you leave him? You shook your head vehemently, tears now free falling down your cheeks. “I-I can’t.” You gasped, watching a pained expression cross onto Draco’s face. He didn’t want to do this, he really didn’t want to do this but the thought of you getting tortured or killed by Voldemort replays in his mind. He couldn’t put you in danger, not for something so selfish, not because he loves you. It’s because he loves you that he’s willing to let you go, that he’s willing to make this sacrifice if it means keeping you safe. 

When he turns to you again, his wand is raised and the look on his face is one you’ve never seen before. His hand is trembling, his eyes look hollow and his mouth is quivering. He looks desperate, he looks distraught, but most of all, he looks broken. “Draco,” You whisper, tears in your eyes as you look up at him, your hand finding the railing behind you. “You have to stay away from me.” Draco gasps, desperately fighting tears. 

“Please don’t do this.” Your voice is weak, you know what’s coming next. You’re smart enough to connect the dots. 

Draco’s hand wavers, “I have to.” His voice is final, but his body looks as though it’s falling apart. Thoughts of him facing what he must face, without your love, sends panic through your chest. He’ll have to endure the pain, the struggles, all of it, alone. You want to be there for him, you don’t care about the danger. Draco knows you don’t, that’s why he has to do this. 

“Baby please, I love you.” You cry desperately, and Draco feels his heart burning to dust in his chest as he looks down at you. “I love you too.” He breathes, closing his eyes and steeling his nerves for what he is going to do next. “Draco!” Your voice comes out as a cry of desperation, and you lurch forward. But Draco is faster. 

“Obliviate.” He whispers the word into the open air, watching as you halt, your tearful eyes locked on his. “Draco,” You whisper as a light of blue slips from your head and into the tip of Draco’s wand. Your hands drop to your sides, and your eyes fall flat, looking through him now, seeing him as everyone else does. Your face is empty, expressionless as you watch him. Lowering his wand, Draco slips your memories into the vial as you blink in confusion before sending him a nervous smile. You look around briefly, before reaching over to grab your coat. You brush past Draco without looking at him again, offering a hollow ‘goodnight’ over your shoulder as you go. Draco feels empty, emptier than he ever has. It’s only now that he lets a tear slide down his cheek. 

His hands were shaking as he leaned over the railing, the cool wind chilling him. The view laid out before him doesn’t hold any beauty in it anymore, and it feels as though all the color has drained from the world. Grasping the vial tightly in his hand, Draco squeezes his eyes shut before throwing it as hard as he could over the edge of the astronomy tower. He watches with bleary eyes as the vial of your memories, the vial containing your love for him disappears into the Black Lake. This is the right thing to do, but Draco can’t fight how wrong it feels. He knows now that he’ll never be the same, but he turns anyway. Straightens his suit, wipes his tears, and begins the journey back to his common room. 

[epersonae]

⭐️, what makes me kind?

While I am feeling a little bit maudlin already, here's some thoughts about the last scene in Chapter 3 of what makes me kind....

One of the things about my obsession with Our Flag Means Death is about the grief. And with the whole Kraken heel turn thing, the pressure to perform a worksona while going through immense grief.

This was the first scene that I wrote where I was actively thinking, I want to channel this thing that I have been going through directly into this character. I want to describe things that I have felt, but obliquely: this fictional character, he's having a bad time, etc etc.

And there's three bits of that which I feel very strongly about:

“Answer your captain,” says Iz, and it’s like he doesn’t have to do anything, just be inside of this face, inside of this shape, and the world bends itself back to what it wants.

And it sort of goes on like that, that people will just expect you to slot back into the person they knew before, and if you're good enough at faking it, well, then, yeah. (Loved dissociating at my old job when I had to go back to the office; good times.) But then when he's alone:

In the quiet and the dark of the middle of the night, all the anger and restlessness ebbs away, like a low tide leaving creatures gasping in the air. Leaving him gasping in the emptiness of a room where he’d been happy, and what had that got him? If he closes his eyes, he can see it: the table laid with food (and too many kinds of spoons), the roaring fire, the shelves full of books and art and strange little trinkets, the rugs spread across the floor, the way the sun fell through that window there, when they tacked eastward, and it caught on the golden glints in — he thinks of the light in Stede’s hair, the light in Stede’s eyes, the light of that fucking smile. It catches in his chest, the image of light and color, and the memory of being happy.

I did in fact write that while remembering very vividly the living room in the house that Ryn and I lived in (I had to move! a week after they died! it's a long story and I'm still mad about it!) which was a room with lots of windows full of art that we'd put up, mostly together. It was a great space, and we were happy. "the light of that fucking smile" indeed. :(

And then I think I actually spooked @emi--rose when she was betaing with this last passage. She asked me if it was the bit that I wrote while at the Mountain Goats concert, and I said "oh no it's just a random Tuesday." [grief dab]

The sound he makes feels like it comes from deep in his chest and at the same time from somewhere outside of his body. It’s not even crying ( don’t fucking cry ) so much as it is a wailing, the screeching sound of something inside him coming apart. He takes a breath, realizes, yes, it is the middle of the night and he’s making an ungodly noise, and right, none of that.

Grief fucking sucks. Losing your partner and best friend fucking sucks. I've cried in ways that I didn't know existed before this. On a good day, at least I can turn it into art, at least.

One last tidbit about this chapter: I've thought a lot about names and naming conventions, and what people call each other in this fic, especially since there's so much POV switching. When I first started writing this chapter, and was trying to decide what name to use for Ed when it's in his POV, it struck me very intensely that no option felt quite right. And so it's been tricky writing, but I'm committed to the sections with his POV not ever using his name. At least not until a specific turning point...

[venhedish]

Ven’s Masterlist of SPN Fic

I write mostly pre-series and early seasons Big Feels™ Wincest fic. There’s a lot of angst and pining here, but plenty of love and devotion mixed in with the darkness.

I always deeply, deeply appreciate likes, kudos, comments, and reblogs!

Wincest Fic

Stand-Alone

Yesterday is a Ghost I Believe In ~4.1k, Teen, Pre-series, Epistolary, Multimedia, Experimental There's an old shoebox under Sam Winchester's bed. It's been there almost as long as he can remember. He doesn't look inside it very often, but when he does, he takes his time. A multimedia collection of letters, journal entries, pictures, and other ephemera from a life on the road. .

That Monster, Love ~2k, Teen, Pre-series, POV Outsider, POV John Winchester, John Finds Out, Angst “You think you’re doing your boys any favors, raisin’ ‘em like this?” .

To Cure My Lonesome Blood ~8.8k, Explicit, Pre-series, Pining Dean, Angst, Bittersweet Ending Dean’s been sick since before either of them was born. The disease is incurable, written into his blood – the same blood he shares with his brother. If he’s not careful, the fever will spread like a fire and consume them both. .

Like Sand, Like Water, Like Sunlight ~1.7k, Gen, Pre-series, Mutual Pining, Angst, Pre-Slash Sea birds circle overhead and Dean wishes he had a camera. Sam looks so young, all of twelve years old, and exhilarated. Dean wants to hold this image in the chambers of his heart, but his pulse just carries it along; time is cruel that way. .

The Space Between Sense and Memory ~4.8k, Teen, Pre-series through Season 1, 5-and-1 Things There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t. .

Every Goodbye, all at Once ~900, Teen, Pre-series, Stanford Era, Pining Dean, Angst, Epistolary "Hey, It's Sam. If you're looking for my dad, you can reach him at 866-555-9352. If you're looking for me, leave a message." A series of voicemails Dean leaves at the number Sam left behind. .

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) ~6k, Explicit, Season 01, PWP, Scent Kink, Guilty Dean Winchester Once Sam was gone, Dean missed him in a way that was all-consuming, all the way down – so deep in his bones that he shook with loneliness some nights. And it was the familiar scent of his brother’s hair where it tangled warm against the pillows, his pulse beating under his skin and sending the fear of the hunt wafting off of him in waves that Dean struggled to hold onto the hardest. Dean really likes the way Sam smells..  .

Dawn is Coming (Open Your Eyes) ~5k, Explicit, Season 01, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together In which Sam and Dean suffer new wounds and stitch old ones back together. There’s an awful storm, a dead monster, an injury, and a whole lot of feelings. .

You put the Magic in Me ~9.1k, Explicit, Season 02(ish), Sex Pollen, Porn with Plot, Casefic “This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done for a case,” Dean says under his breath, leaning into Sam and scouting the crowd gathered around a dozen tables inside the little café. “Dude, relax,” Sam says back, eyebrows raising at his brother’s nervous energy. “I thought this would be, like, your thing.” He gestures vaguely to the women milling around inside. A long, vividly red banner hangs across the open french doors that lead into the space, emblazoned with the words The Oolong Tea Room Presents: Lonely Hearts Club Speed Dating! Feb 11-14th! Or; in which Sam and Dean learn a thing or two about chemistry. .

The Stars are not Wanted Now ~2k, Teen, Season 02, Episode Tag: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Angst, Death Rituals There was a body on the bed.  It had been there long enough that the slanting light of morning crept into the room like an unwelcome invader and washed the world in a dream-shade of palest blue.   But there were no dreams here; only death, only memory. The body on the bed was all that remained of Samuel Winchester, who had died in his brother’s arms the night before. .

Demi-Gods and Hungry Ghosts ~5.8k, Explicit, Season 03, Episode Tag: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Dark, Dub-con, Hurt No Comfort This dream-state of living on pause and rewind leads to some interesting avenues of thought that Sam doesn’t mean to travel, but after a certain number of unrelenting Tuesdays, they just become inevitable. If Dean dies every day—if his memories are wiped, or if they never happen at all—what could Sam get away with, if he wanted to? Could he dare to find out?  .

In Sanguine Vita Est   ~5.2k, Explicit, Season 04, Knifeplay, Dean’s Hell Trauma, Hurt/Comfort Everything was different now. Dean was here—back from the fucking dead—but he was a stranger in his own body. Scars gone, aches from broken bones that hadn’t set right vanished back into the void as if they’d never existed at all. He’d become a stranger to the whole world. He’d become a stranger to Sam. _ Dean asks Sam to help him heal after he returns from Hell. .

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness ~5.7k, Explicit, Season 06, Episode Tag: s06e06 You Can’t Handle the Truth, POV Outsider, Angst, Soulless Sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. .

The Rungs of Me be Under You ~1.6k, Teen, Gencest, Post-Bunker, 2nd Person POV, Queerplatonic Sam and Dean, Non-Sexual Kink What they share has never been easy to define. Why should this be any different?  .

Wincest Series The Top/Bottom Discourse Series (Ongoing) [Each story is canon compliant and listed chronologically, but they can all be read as standalone works.] This series was born originally from a silly meta post I made on Tumblr as a response to some very angry top/bottom discourse I was seeing about how only Sam could truly be A Top™, or how only Dean could truly be A Top™. I personally like to kink and let kink and not drag outdated gender politics into my fandom (Dean can't be a bottom because he's too masculine? Ice cold take, bro), so I wrote a filthy little tongue-in-cheek post about all the ways I think Sam and Dean have fucked each other over the years.

 I’m Thinking About Whatever You’re Thinking About ~5.1k, Explicit, Pre-series, PWP, Bratty Sam, Exhibitionism, Fear of Discovery Sam is such a brat, sometimes. .

 Shoot to Thrill ~6.7k, Explicit, Season 02, Porn with Plot, Hustling, Getting Back Together It's just like riding a bike. .

Burn Out The Night ~4.9k, Explicit, Season 08, Porn with Plot, Car Sex, Light BDSM, Fluff What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. .

Destiel Fic

Love Made a Martyr of Me ~500, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Past Sam/Dean, Angst Sam says yes in Detroit, and in the space of a single syllable, there's nothing left in Heaven or on Earth for Dean to love. Cas doesn't seem to care. .

The Sharp Teeth of the One You Love ~2k, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining “Quit bein’ a baby, Cas.” Dean’s hands were covered in blood, but they were steady as always while he worked to stitch Castiel back together. “I’m sorry,” Cas growled between gritted teeth. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience feeling pain.” He hissed again when Dean slid the curved needle back through the eight-inch-long gash that ran deep and bloody down Cas’s bicep. Castiel learns something about what it means to be human. .

Wincestiel Fic

Temerate ~700, Teen, Season 05(ish), Past Sam/Dean, 2nd Person POV, First Time Your brother is sitting in the corner of the motel room. His big hands are worrying at each other; he squeezes them together, fingertips white from the pressure of his grip. He meets your eyes and his gaze is like a lightning strike. .

Dean/John Fic

Cruore ~1.1k, Mature, Pre-series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood, Intrusive Thoughts Bites, Dean could deal with – claw marks and broken bones. But this- ... a bullet was a different kind of monster altogether. .

Supernatural RPF

Il Cielo in Una Stanza ~4.4k, Explicit, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Getting Back Together, Prequel-Gate, Polyamory, Non-AU Jared Padalecki receives a present he wasn't expecting at all for his 39th birthday. . 

Other Supernatural Fic

Bad Things, Better Reasons ~2k, Explicit, Pre-series, Dean Does Sex Work, Angst, Brotherly Love. Dean does whatever it takes to keep the bills paid while John is gone. The kid waiting for him back at the motel room is all the justification he’ll ever need. .

No Was Her Name ~1.3k, Teen, Season 12, Dean/Mary, Light Angst, First Kiss Mary Winchester was alive. She was solid—made of skin and blood and bone—and she existed in the same world as Dean. It wasn’t a dream; she walked and talked and breathed. She ate, she slept, she wandered the halls of the bunker at odd hours. She was a ghost made flesh, and Dean was haunted by her presence. .

[one-boring-person]

Okay so request~~~~

So at the end of last blood, he never stays at his ranch. He tells the aunt “Idk. I’ll move around, like always.” And then proceeds to destroy his home and land beyond repair, you know that story i wrote about picking up first blood rambo?? Well, change that to old man rambo!

What about him having rhat random chance meeting with someone like SR(from the one i wrote) and staying with them. How they take care of him without even knowing him, and how he has a chance to try out a new life away from war and what he was with someone who’s young and starting out on their own ambitions.

I could totally see him being introduced to SR’s friends as “oh, my new roommate!” And him telling SR all about vague war stories, they teach him to cook and cook him breakfast. Honestly just rambo being taken somewhere far away and nice and staying with someone who definitely has their own problems, but takes on the therapy by helping him instead.

Basically, SR is very very damaged and rambo can tell- but they’re so sweet and responsible, mature, and loyal. They take out emotions and pain through spreading love instead of war, he can’t let that go. Not now

(Hopefully that gives you ideas!!!)

I'm sorry this took so damn long for me to write, and I'm sorry that it's so bad, too, but I hope you like it in any case!😓😅

Life Goes On.

John Rambo (Rambo: Last Blood) x Named!OC (not mine)

Warnings: injury detail, death, blood

Masterlist

John's eyes are barely open as he sluggishly guides the horse beneath him further on, their surfaces dry and sore even as he blinks them. By now it's useless, the dust in the air having gotten into his corneas within the first hour of his long ride, irritating his scleras very quickly. Exhaustion has long since numbed out any pain he still feels, his eyes becoming the least of his worries as he gradually loses the sensation in his lower abdomen, where his more serious wound is bleeding profusely onto his shirt, still oozing even after fifteen hours of being left alone. He knows the blood flow isn't too bad anymore, as his hasty attempts to patch himself up have left him with a better chance of surviving, but his other wounds are slowly driving him to a comatose state. The veteran can't move his fingers properly, the digits clunky and uncoordinated as he tries to grip onto the reins, the blisters from the tough leather split and leaking as he struggles to do so. Nausea has settled into his head, his vision blurred as his strength slowly fails him - he's too old to have survived as he used to. Without his medication, John finds himself plagued constantly by flashes of past grief and sorrow, images of his dead team back in 'Nam flooding his conscience, accompanied by the beaten and bruised face of Gabrielle. 

Beneath him, the horse walks slowly, his thighs aching from the hours of riding, chafing sores lining them under the fabric of his trousers, his body slouched forwards in the saddle. Pity for the animal also gnaws at his mind, and he feels a pang of guilt as he realises that it's unlikely it will be able to carry him much further without any respite. It's head is drooped, steps slow and unsteady, panting breaths rushing from its throat in haggard bursts. If he had any energy, John would remove the tack from the horse and let it go, but he knows this isn't a plausible idea for him if he wants to survive. He owes it to Maria to survive.

His conscience starts to slip, just as the sun comes to its highest point in the sky, heat and dry air lulling him into a false sense of security as he feels his control leaving him. Unable to keep a grip on it, he succumbs to the darkness rising up in his vision, falling into it gratefully, needing the reprieve.

Vaguely, John seems to recall a car pulling up beside him, the door slamming closed as someone shouts to him, hands taking the reins from his. Gravity seems to take control, and John falls from the horse, landing heavily in the dirt, but he doesn't lie there long. Whoever has taken hold of the horse is swift to come to his aid, pulling him into their arms as they try to drag him back to their car. They're struggling, and he wants to fight back, to tell whoever it is to get lost, but he finds he can't, his throat too raw to even force a sound past, so he can only stay limp as they manhandle him into their vehicle, murmuring gently to him the entire time. 

It's at that point that he finally loses consciousness.

*

Agony floods John's body as he comes to again, drawing a hoarse groan from his scratchy throat as he jerks upwards, his instincts still ready for action even after all these years. Blearily, he blinks, hands scrambling to identify his surroundings, dull surprise dripping into his conscience as he finds a soft duvet and pillows on top of a comfortable mattress, warmth encompassing him. Frowning, the veteran pushes himself upright, ignoring the pain in his body as he does so, his hand going up to cup his wound instinctively. Shocked to find a clean dressing plastered over the ragged injury, John blinks again and takes a look around.

He's in a small room, laying on a bed in the centre, the domicile unfamiliar to him. Idly he wonders if maybe he's died and found some kind of afterlife, but a sharp stab of agony from his side eliminates this idea from his head in seconds. The room is quite comfortably decorated, designed to be cosy and close, whilst remaining roomy enough to allow for decent living space. A few photographs line the wall, accompanied by posters of movies he's never bothered to go see, having never really managed to overcome the triggers they often set off when he's not expecting them. 

Just as he goes to climb out of the bed, the door swings open, and an unfamiliar figure steps in, a first aid kit held in one hand as they juggle a bowl of water in the other. Instantly, John's on his feet, instincts taking over as he ignores the flare of agony that springs up in him as he swiftly moves over to the newcomer. In seconds, they find themselves pinned to the wall, a hand wrapped around their throat. Yelping in fear, they let go of the bowl and first aid kit, smaller hands coming up to grip his larger arm, eyes wide as they stare at him in shock, wincing as warm water splashes the two of them. 

It takes all John has not to crush their windpipe, his rational mind taking over the militant instinct as he keeps them in a threatening hold, the youth unable to move at all. A wave of nausea washes over him, and he falters, vision spinning wildly as he drops back a step, losing his grip on the newcomer as quickly as he secured it, the sudden disorientation throwing him off as he falls to the floor again. Grunting in pain, he lands heavily, the impact jarring his bones and muscles roughly. Recovering quickly, the newcomer drops down beside him, eyes widened in concern now, rather than fear.

"Are you alright?" They ask him, voice soft with worry, searching his face for any serious problem.

It takes him a moment, but eventually, John manages a response, his usually rough voice coarse and gravelly now.

"'M fine." 

They just scoff, hesitantly reaching out to help him back up again, heaving his heavy body onto the bed again. 

"You are far from fine." They point out, "What happened, you fight a war or something?"

He almost laughs.

"Something like that." John murmurs bitterly, leaning his head back against the headboard.

Shooting him an odd look, the newcomer goes and fetches the spilt bowl of water, sighing at the mess before they hold it up for him to see.

"I'm just gonna get some more water, then I'll patch you up again, that alright?" They ask him, looking somewhat cautious.

Suspicious, John watches them for a sign of deception. Finding none, he simply nods, knowing he can easily take them out if he needs to. They smile, going to leave the room, only to stop in the doorway and turn around.

"My name is SR, by the way." They introduce themself.

"John." He grunts in way of reply, watching as they nod and leave the room.

*

Two months have passed and he's no longer bedridden, the veteran able to move freely around the house, even though there's still a little residual pain, and the mental horrors he faces every night leave him drained with no reprieve. With no medication to help him, it's no surprise that John has relapsed into a familiar state of sullen silence and brooding, finding himself reminded of the things he'd rather forget every day, in everything he does and everything he sees.

SR is no exception to this: he has warmed up to them, and he somewhat trusts them, the youth having shown him more kindness than he has experienced since Maria and Gabrielle. Their only downfall is that they remind him a lot of his murdered niece, the two having very similar traits that very quickly sussed out. Childhood trauma has led them to becoming very determinedly driven and friendly, ambitious and confident in some aspects of life, whilst also noticeably damaged in other aspects, that he realises very quickly. Somehow, however, they always keep themselves afloat, and choose not to show any of the weight bearing down on their mind, as he knows it is, though he is also very swift to realise that their way of dealing with this pain is very simple; they work to make life better for others. It's visible in everything they do: cooking for him every day, caring for him in any way they can, doing their best to let him know he can trust them. 

At first, he had been somewhat cold and closed off to them, but they swiftly worked to help warm him up again, reawakening the more personable version of himself he managed to cultivate in his time on the ranch. It was nice to become a little lighter again, but his guard stayed up, and still is, though not as much as it was before. Vividly, he can remember the time he found himself trusting them further: when their friends had come over to catch up. 

Naturally, they'd all been surprised to find some nearly hostile ex-soldier residing in their friend's home, living his life out with them. As soon as they'd said something, however, SR had leapt in to defend him, and had inadvertently shown their care for him on a much greater scale than before, reminding John of what his life was like with Maria and Gabrielle. When their friends had then left, an hour or so later, he had stepped up to them and told them how thankful he was, feeling more cared for than he ever thought he would. 

Now, after weeks of being taught how to cook, and being cooked for, plus hours and hours of talking with each other as they helped each other to overcome past grief, he can very honestly say he is immensely grateful to be with them. They know more about him than he told himself he'd ever tell anyone, SR often listening with rapt attention to his war stories, eyes wide as they hear all of the harrowing details. He feels comfortable telling these tales, and they seem content to listen, so he appreciates them in whole new ways. 

And when he finally opens himself back up to physical contact, the embrace he receives from his excitable carer is only too worth it, the first smile in months gracing his lips as he does so. Life feels like it's turning on its axis again - for the better this time.

[suzumenokakimono]

I was here first II

Pairing: Namjoon /  Jimin x reader

Genre: AU, smut, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, fwb, friends to lover

Summary: Jimin was your roommate, best friend and in love with you so bad it wasn’t even funny. His friends knew this all along and were surely surprised you’ve never noticed. But you didn’t. You were oblivious as the Earth was round. Now, Jimin decided it was time to finally confess to you. He asked one of his closest friends, Namjoon, to help him. But what if you end up liking Namjoon instead of Jimin?

Word count: 7k

A/N: Thank you, N.

While I was writing this, I realized what’s ‘wrong’ with my writing style but then also it hit me: not gonna change it.

Also, there is stuff going on in my head, hence the plot. * flies away *

Namjoon though.

Tagged: (as requested 💜: @ jinnfires)

Masterlist | Chapters: One | Two | Three (incoming) 

-------

That was your favorite mug.

You remembered how you got it, actually. Jimin had broken your mug. The only mug you had brought with you when you’d moved in. It was really stupid, it was not even special to you. You just never bought anything more, never needed it to, to be honest. 

Before you started to live with Jimin, your previous roommate had had a lot of stuff and she’d always let you use it. It was really convenient and you gladly took advantage of that. When she moved out, you were left with just your stuff, which was not a lot. Jimin always said you could use anything you wanted from his kitchen but it was nice to have something of your own. So when he broke your only mug, he immediately bought you a new one. He was feeling very bad about that and kept sending you tons of links to internet shops, asking what you would like. To finally make him stop crying over the whole situation, you’d picked one and you used it ever since. After those two years in this apartment, you got yourself more things, that you could call yours, but this one stayed as your favourite.

And now it was broken. You were standing in the middle of the kitchen and looking at the shattered pieces on the floor, not sure how that had happened. No. That was a lie. You knew exactly how it had happened, you just weren’t sure… how. 

The morning started pretty ordinarily. It was a weekend so both you and Jimin didn’t have work and stayed at home. He was trying to convince you to go to the cinema or something, but looking at the weather you weren’t sure it was the best idea. You just wanted to stay inside. You decided to make yourself a nice tea and finally start reading that book you’d wanted to read for so long.

Jimin’s face leaned out from behind the door frame to check what was going on. He had heard the noise and wanted to make sure you were alright. He saw you standing in the kitchen and started to think he had misheard but then he noticed the mess on the floor. He didn’t have any issues with recognizing your mug. Or what was left of it. 

“Did you just…?”.

You hadn’t even noticed him. When he spoke you turned around, surprised by his presence.

“Huh… what?”

“Did you just break the mug from me?”

For some reason he was pretty amused by this. Knowing what happened with the previous one and seeing what you did with the one he got you, was a little ironic. 

“I can’t believe you broke THE MUG!”

He chuckled to himself but then he saw your face expression and just burst into laughter. You looked so surprised and out of place, for what the reason he assumed, was your accident with the mug. He started to help you clean up, since you were barefoot and could step into some smaller pieces and hurt yourself. 

“What happened?”

“Um… sorry. I… got distracted. Shame…”

You really were sorry about that. One of the reasons you liked the mug was how you’d actually gotten it. The story was simple but there was a story and that’s what counted. You can’t say that very often about your everyday life’s items. 

You helped Jimin with cleaning, making sure nothing stayed on the floor and took out one of his mugs from the cabinet. While doing so you were holding your phone in your other hand, looking intensely on its screen. 

“So, what about the movie?”

“... movie? What movie?”

“Are you still not going?”

“No…”, you looked at your phone again. “Something came up.”

-------

When Jimin opened the door, it was around 6am. It was already getting bright outside but all he was thinking about was to sleep for the next week. He was exhausted and kind of dehydrated. Not being entirely conscious he went to the kitchen and just turned on the tap to drink some water. He twisted his head to the side and leaned over the sink. Cold, clean water ran down his throat and felt a little more alive than a few seconds ago. He promised himself, not for the first time to be honest, not to drink that much next time. Let’s face it. He was not going to quit drinking entirely. He just wanted not to feel half dead each morning after a fun, long night. That was never fun. The only plus of those situations was you, you taking care of him when he was in a state where crawling on the floor seemed like the only possible way of moving. You always complained but never denied helping him. It also gave you many possibilities of making fun of him. 

He turned off the water and dried his face with a towel. He needed a shower but was too tired to care about that. Soft bed was calling for him. While passing by your room, he saw the door not entirely closed, so he quietly stepped closer to check up on you. You were sleeping in your bed, wrapped in your comforter like a burrito and snoring quietly. Your pretty dress was on a chair and shoes discarded separately on the floor. He saw your hair pointing out and this way he was sure you were okay. Namjoon did what he was asked to. He went to his room, feeling a little heavy, remembering again what had happened in the club and how his whole plan didn’t work out at all. He knew it was his fault that he backed out and just left you. But for him, the price was too big. What ifs were killing him this whole time and he decided he would not take this risk. He needed more time.

He closed your door behind him and went to his room. He had a lot of stuff to think about. Maybe a new plan to figure out. But not this morning. The only thing he needed and also wanted to do was sleep.

-------

It had been a week since you, Jimin and Namjoon went out. None of you mentioned the night very often, if at all. When you woke up the next day, you just wanted to die quietly without any distractions and minding silence in Jimin’s room, he was already dead. You both spent that time separately, doing your own stuff, doing everything that was necessary to survive. After that, you just got back to the normal life routine. You hadn’t found out what the meaning of that night was anyway, so you didn’t pay much attention to it.

No. That was a lie. You didn’t care much about the situation with Jimin. Sure, he’d acted weird and left you for some random girl in the club, but he was your friend and apparently he’d gotten back home safe. You did care, however, about the other guy. The one you met that night.

Namjoon didn’t give you any contact information, no phone number, no messenger options. When he’d left your room, he’d just disappeared and never tried to reach out to you. He’d left you with just a memory of him, him on top of you in your bed, groaning low in your ear. This image stayed in your head rent free and didn’t want to move out anytime soon. You didn’t remember everything. You lost a little track of the events after you both left the cab. But you were definitely sure you’d held his dick at some point. That was unmistakable. 

Having this vividly in your mind, you tried to find him. The best way and probably the only way, was through Jimin. You’d started by asking him how work was, hoping he would mention his friend at some point. But he didn’t. So’d you tried to nonchalantly talk about your night out but it somehow ended up even worse. He’d changed the subject immediately, without any reason and had been avoiding it since then. You didn’t understand that, but nevertheless, you understood you wouldn’t get any information this way. Sighing heavily, you dropped it for a moment. You really liked Namjoon and wanted to see him again, but apparently you had to wait for something to happen or him to find you, because the universe was telling you to wait. So you waited.

It was Friday evening. You were looking for a movie to watch and you wanted to watch it in the living room. Jimin was writing to you the whole day how one of his annoying co-workers had a birthday and was insisting on going out later to a bar. He was nagging how he didn’t want to, but had to and was asking you for some good excuses to go back home. You liked the idea of spending the evening alone in your apartment so you refused and laughed at his response, when he realized you enjoyed his suffering. Sitting wrapped in a blanket on your living room couch, you were ready for tonight's film show, knowing very well your roommate wouldn't be home anytime soon. 

-------

Jimin was sipping his beer without any enjoyment. He was forced to come to the bar and drink, and that took all the fun from being at the bar and drinking. He thought maybe pouring all possible alcohol straight down his throat would be a good solution to survive this ‘birthday party’ but then again he promised himself not to drink that much. At least, not as much as last time. Oh fuck, last time… Just thinking about it made him anxious and he immediately took a big sip. It’d been a week and he couldn’t get over it. He didn’t talk to anyone about that, he was embarrassed and so pissed at himself. He thought maybe hiding everything deep, deep inside him would just make it go away.

Namjoon sat next to him, pushing him to the side, forcing Jimin to make more space. He also got  invited for the party, but was a little merrier than his friend. He was drinking some dark beer and looking around the crowd. One of their female colleagues tried to talk to him, he was pretty sure she was flirting, but after a few moments he found an excuse and ran away. 

“She has nice legs.”, Jimin mumbled from his glass.

“Yeah, then go and talk to her. I’ll save your spot.”

“I don’t think she likes me. I think she likes you.”

“Bummer.”

“Why are you so defensive? You’re not madly in love with your friend, like me. Or are you?”

Of course Jimin had to mention you. He was drinking and was in a bad mood from the moment they’d entered the bar. This was the first time they actually talked with each other, since your night in the club. Jimin never got back to Namjoon, like he said he would. They were avoiding one another, for their own reasons, which they kept for themselves. Namjoon was seriously scared that everything that had happened between you two was perfectly noticed and his friendship with Jimin was ruined. He really didn’t want that but at the same time, he couldn't blame Jimin. So, when he’d come to the table to finally break the ice, he wasn’t sure what he was going to find. It had surprised him that Jimin didn’t seem to be angry.

“I’m not in love with you. You’re not my type. Too much penis.” Jimin snored at that excellent joke and got back to his drink. This was a good sign.

This past week hadn’t been easy. Avoiding his friend and distracting himself with anything that’s possible just to not think about you was pretty exhausting. He was actually happy someone had come up with the idea of going out to the bar. He needed to chill.

“I fucked this up, didn’t I?”, Jimin spoke out of the blue.

“No. Because you haven’t done anything.”, Namjoon said, without even thinking. 

Jimin looked at his friend with an unspoken question, not sure what he meant. Namjoon swallowed hard. The fuck he’d just said that and started the whole conversation? He didn’t mean to say that! How the hell was this supposed to help to not think about you? This was already not going well.

“You’ve never actually tried, you know… talked to her…”, he started to sweat. 

“Yes, exactly. I fucked this up, because I have no balls to try.”

“But… why?”

“I thought… maybe…”, he started to mumble. “I should first make her jealous, you know? By picking up someone else and she… would…”

“Make… her jealous? How the hell was she supposed to be jealous if she had no idea what was going on?”

“You know… She sees me with some hot chick, thinks, oh that could have been me…”

Namjoon smelled bullshit from a distance. Jimin was too smart to actually think this kind of shitty strategy would work. Plus, that had never been his plan for that night in the first place.. 

“Oh, cut the crap!”, Namjoon lost his patience and probably shouted too loud, Jimin looked at him, surprised. “What the hell really happened that night?”

Jimin stopped sipping his beer, trying to collect his thoughts. He was torned apart. He wanted to forget about everything and at the same time, needed to say everything that was eating him alive. 

“I panicked.”, Jimin’s sight was glued to the table.

“That… I would call an understatement, at least.

“Remember when we were talking and… we started to look back on the day we met… She mentioned how I was drunk and falling from my chair… She turned to you…”

Namjoon froze in place. This was it. Jimin was about to say how him, his friend, stole the girl of his dreams. There was no turning back. 

“She was talking about me like the biggest dork. She was laughing, not taking me seriously…”

Namjoon took a deep breath and wasn’t sure he understood. His mind was completely lost in connecting the dots. 

“She’s seeing me as her friend. I was trying to be with her that night, like with the other girls, you know? I was flirting and touching her, she didn’t care at all. We both were drinking and yet… it wasn’t enough. That’s why I ran away.”

Jimin got back to sipping his drink, not looking at Namjoon. And if he had, he would’ve seen an absolutely blank page. Namjoon felt like his brain got a reset and he was sitting with a blue screen displayed for everyone watching. He never doubted that what he did back in the club was wrong, however he was certain Jimin had seen it and was about to kill him. Not noticing how he had been drooling all over you was pretty impossible. And yet, here he was, safe and sound. He narrowed his eyes in that moment, finally connecting the dots. You both were pretty dumb and blind when it came to feelings and reading someone else’s emotions. 

“So… you got scared because she was laughing at something you did three years ago?”

“It sounds stupid, I know. But I felt really weird. Like, me doing that is all she can see. Like, that night defined me in her eyes. She sees me as a dork… nothing serious…”

“You’re not a dork.”, Namjoon sighed heavily. This conversation was pretty weird and was making him nervous. However, what made him slightly relaxed was that, one problem was already solved: Jimin was absolutely oblivious about that night.  

“I know I am. And she knows I am.”

“Maybe she likes dorks?”, why the fuck did he say that?!

“I actually don’t know what her type is.”

I’m her type.

“Did she date anyone, after moving in with you?”

“I’m not sure… I think there was a guy or two… nothing really serious.”

“You’ve never talked about this? Never gossiped about your lovelife?”

“We did, but she was always more curious about mine, since I did bring some girls a few times. She was always asking why a handsome guy like me doesn’t have a girlfriend”, Jimin smiled to himself after a word handsome. He liked when you called him that. 

“She thinks you’re handsome.”

“And she doesn’t like me.”

But she likes me. 

Namjoon mentally slapped himself for that. 

“What about the other girl?”, he desperately wanted to change the subject. 

Talking about you, in a perspective of you liking Jimin or not, was killing him. You were on his mind all the time anyway, since you’d met. And he had to hide that. He started to have problems with being a good friend and supporting Jimin with his crush and his efforts to win you over. 

“What girl?”

“The one you were making out when you left us. Y/A saw the two of you at the bar.”

“There’s not much to talk about.”, Jimin looked flustered. He turned his head away.

“Why? Did you go with her and something went wrong?”

“No… it’s….”

“Did she laugh at you? You couldn’t do it? You were too drunk? You fell asleep in the middle?”

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes, yes I am!”

Jimin looked at Namjoon, waiting for another assumption about his night. But none of them came, he stopped making stuff up after seeing his friend's expression.

“It’s nothing like that. I didn’t go with her.”, Jimin sighed.

“I’m a little confused now. You ditched Y/A for some random chick and then you just… came home?”

“No. I… “

“What? What the fuck happened?”

“I went to the internet caffe and played Overwatch.”

Namjoon snorted so much his beer came right through his nose. However, he admitted it was worth it. He would have never expected Jimin to say something like that. 

“I’m sorry, you did what?”

“Ugh… Yes, we made out a little but I wasn’t in the mood. I was thinking about Y/A the whole time and it… it just didn’t feel right.”

“You were thinking about Y/N while making out with another girl?”

“I forgot how big of a dipshit you can be, you know?”

You have no idea. 

-------

The doorbell woke you up from the deepest moment of your dream. When you lifted your head you weren’t sure where you were, what was going on or who you were. You needed a moment to recover and another ring to finally get up. Blindly you reached out to your nightstand and grabbed your phone.

2:05 am. Who the fuck was that?

You had gone to sleep some time ago, knowing Jimin had his own keys and he would help himself with opening the door. You were not expecting anyone, especially at this time, so while still being a little asleep you were very hesitant to open the door. You looked through the visor on the door but it was too dark to determine anything. But there was someone there, for sure.

Another ring made you jump in place. Someone was really stubborn and didn’t want to let this go. So, hoping nobody doing this kind of noise would try to kill you, you slowly turned the locks and looked at what was waiting for you in the corridor. 

First you saw Namjoon. He was standing right in front of the door, basically leaning into it. He barely looked at you because all his attention was on another person hanging on his shoulder. And that person was Jimin. 

You looked first at Namjoon, then at your roommate, then again at his friend. Many questions were growing inside your head, you were fully awake at this point. 

“What…?”

You tried to articulate one of them, but it died before it left your mouth. Was Jimin unconscious? You just pointed at him, which was worth a thousand words. 

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t find his keys. He said they’re in his pocket but… I’m not gonna…

He moved a step forward, trying to get to the apartment, without bumping into you. You shook your head, realizing you were blocking his way. You moved away to make the corridor clear but Namjoon didn’t go any further.

“Can you… help me?”

You immediately got to the other side of Jimin and put his arm on your shoulder. You felt his weight on you and a second after that you smelled all the alcohol he drank at the bar. He was indeed unconscious. His body felt like a ragdoll, it was really hard to get him into his room, but both of you somehow managed to. His feet were dragging along on the floor while you pulled him through the corridor. You threw him on his bed, which was a little too rough, but he didn’t react in any way. 

“I think this time he might be dead.”, Namjoon was standing next to you.

“Possibly.”

You sighed heavily. You knew what was coming so you jumped out to the bathroom and brought a big plastic bowl. You put it next to Jimin’s bed, just in case he woke up and decided he didn’t like all the alcohol he had in his body. And food. And his insides. You assumed him waking up would be a very dramatic moment. 

“That’s clever. I don’t think he’ll aim for that anyway, but at least we tried.”, Namjoon didn’t fool himself. If Jimin woke up, he would be half dead and puking into the bowl would be the last thing on his list.

You both left the room. You were trying to act quietly, even though there was no such force that could have woken up Jimin in this state. You closed the door behind you and looked at Namjoon. Before, you smelled alcohol because of your friend. He drank like there was no tomorrow, for sure. But Joon did not say no to drinks as well. He was not as drunk as your roommate but he was swaying in place, not able to focus his sight on you.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine… I just need to lay down…”, he was a little embarrassed and wanted to go home and sleep.

“Do you want some tea?”, you asked, already being on your way to the kitchen. On your way you brushed your hand on his arm, trying to pretend that was an accident, didn’t mean much.

Namjoon didn’t say anything. He just watched you going, focusing on how you were swaying your hips,  followed you and after a few seconds.

“Tea sounds perfect.”

He was watching while you were jumping around and making him and yourself a tea. Yet again he saw you in a different light than before. When he stood still, holding the door frame for support, he focused on the way you looked. He remembered you in your pretty dress and makeup. Well, also without a dress. But this time you were just in your pajama shorts and a simple loose T-shirt. Your hair was tied up on top of your head and you were definitely not wearing any makeup. Even though his vision was not the best at that time, he decided you looked very pretty with a bare face. 

When the tea was ready, you grabbed both mugs by their handles and just took them to the living room, giving him an unspoken direction to do the same. Namjoon followed you again and you both sat on the couch. He felt much better sitting, it made him feel more sure he wouldn’t fall down. Or at least from his seat, there was a much shorter trip to the floor. 

“Party was that good?”, you asked. 

“Afterparty, maybe.”

“After-what? Why did you need that?” “It was Jimin’s idea. He… didn’t have much fun at the birthday party, so we went somewhere else just to… well, drink. We didn’t plan to stay long… and that part of the plan worked out.”

Namjoon seemed a little tired. He leaned his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Was he falling asleep? You took that opportunity and looked at him. He wasn’t wearing his beanie this time. His natural dark hair was short and dyed to a blonde color, shaved at the bottom and slightly underneath into a nice undercut. It really suited him and you were fighting with the urge to brush your fingers through his hair. You imagined how it would feel under your fingertips. Probably very soft. His grey hoodie was a little loose on his body, you’d noticed he liked a little baggier clothes. He’d matched it with light jeans and red converse. 

Somehow, you missed him and wanted him to stay. Even just to talk with you. You were pinching yourself to start a conversation, any conversation, you didn’t want him to leave.

“You know, after that fun night in the club you disappeared… I haven’t heard from you… ”

Namjoon opened his eyes and looked at you. It definitely helped him wake up.

“I…”, he wasn’t sure what to say. 

He had been avoiding you. Not that you’d had many occasions to actually meet. But he was trying to forget about a pretty girl that he really liked but very well knew, his friend was in love with. He had to remind himself of that all the time. The whole evening with Jimin was not helping at all. Getting in touch with you, after all that had happened the night you met was a very bad idea.

“I didn’t want to bother you. We’ve barely met and I thought that… we’re not that close, so it doesn’t matter.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re not friends… we don’t have to hang out… you know... “, he had no idea what he was talking about. 

“We’re not but you’re Jimin’s friend. You can’t run away from him.”

“I didn’t run away from you.”

“But you did avoid me?”

“Yes. NO!”, his brain was malfunctioning. He pulled himself up, grabbed his tea and took a sip. It burned his tongue a little but was a great distraction. 

“You don’t like me?”

“NO!”, he almost jumped in his place and spilled his tea on his legs. “What? Of course not! I do!”

You laughed at his reaction. 

“I like you too.”

You smiled at him, blushing a little. You took your mug from the coffee table to distract yourself from the embarrassment that was attacking you. He didn’t miss that. He was still a little buzzed but you talking to him was keeping him awake. He was watching you intensely, trying to remember how you’d looked that night. He put his mug away, to avoid spilling tea anywhere and leaned his head back on the couch sliding down a little in his seat. He wasn’t sure if he was getting sleepy again or whether your presence was affecting him this way. Whatever it was, a nice warm feeling spread through his body after your small confession. He smiled back at you, which made you even more flustered and you almost hid your face in your mug.

“Ah… you know… after all that happened, I was pretty sure you actually don’t want to see me.”

“But, why? Did I do something stupid? Did I… fall asleep while we were…?”

“No, we didn’t do anything! When I put you into bed you were already sleeping.”

“I actually wanted to ask, did I fall asleep while we were kissing.”, you giggled. You remembered Namjoon left before anything happened.

“Oh, then, my answer would be yes!”, he smiled with his cute smile, showing his dimples. A shy blush also showed up on his cheeks. 

“Huh, I think I drank a little too much.”

“That’s fine. It’s not like I was sober. I was there too.” 

“Yes… yes, you were.”, you looked into his eyes. “I was drunk, half naked and you rolled me into my comforter and left.”

Namjoon’s breath hitched for a second. Your straightforward statement made him remember how that had actually happened, that everything he had in his head really took place. 

You on the bed, him on top of you. He tried to get up, you held him. He was trying to leave, you took off your dress. Later he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t happen, he didn’t see you naked waist up, that his hard dick wasn’t… 

“... yeah, you took that dress off…”, he drifted off for a moment, looking in your direction, but not at you. Images were flashing right in front of his eyes.

Then he heard you laughing. 

���I did take my dress off”, you hid your face in your hands. Your expression changed in one second, again.

Namjoon snorted right after you. Talking about this was making him a little nervous. He felt his hands starting to sweat. You were sitting close to him, with your legs on the couch, one arm spread behind his head. Your shorts riled up your thighs showing even more skin. Loose T-shirt hanging on your shoulder, making your collarbone very much visible. 

You put your mug back to the table and moved closer to him. 

“We were both drunk, but I do remember most of it.”, you knew you were blushing, but didn’t want that to stop you.

“... I… maybe half of it.” he lied. He remembered everything.

“I can’t stop thinking about what if…”

He swallowed hard. He looked at your lips. Your hand behind his head found his hair and  played with it nonchalantly. He was pretending he didn’t notice. You scratched your neck with your other hand and glued his sight to your skin. He remembered everything.

“What if what?”

“What if we slept together? It’s not like we’re in relationships, so we wouldn't be doing anything wrong… right?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend…”, he shook his head a little to emphasize this. 

“Me neither. Or a boyfriend.”, you smiled.

You were getting closer and closer. He felt a hint of a fruit scent. Was that your shampoo? Your finger touched his neck. Very lightly, but a shiver went down his spine. Your touch was hot on his skin and he immediately started to want more.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.

You took your hand away, like you realised what you were doing and that was way too far and too fast. For a second you panicked, a train of thoughts was attacking you and you felt like you were the only one that was trying to do something there. Like you were the only one who felt the spark and wanted to use it. Like he didn’t want you anymore.

He raised his head a little, he looked straight into your eyes, his mouth was slightly open.

You were wrong. You were so fucking wrong.

You leaned into him and you kissed him without another word. He didn’t oppose at all. After all, if you hadn't, he would have done that himself. He cupped your face and pulled you closer. One of his hands wandered to your neck. He also felt yours on his, it went straight back to its place where it had been before. He tasted like beer and tea at the same time. You felt the alcohol in his breath but didn’t care much. You took his lower lip between yours and sucked. You felt him smiling, he liked that.

One of his hands grabbed your T-shirt and pulled you closer to him. It made you lose your balance and you put your hand on his chest for support. He didn’t stop though. He was trying to get you as close as possible. 

Without thinking much, you straddled his lap, putting one leg on each side of his hips. His hands were immediately on your bare thighs. Kneading the flesh he moved them up, right on your ass. Grabbing you shorts, he pulled them right up, putting both of your ass cheeks on display. Holding them, made you move closer and spread your legs wider. You sat right up above his crotch, feeling his hardening dick under your thigh. 

Grabbing his hoodie and by pulling it up you urged him to raise his hands, to take it off. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt beneath it. Tight enough to show his slim body and wide shoulders. He didn’t give you much time to appreciate it. Both of his hands were on your neck and pulled you back to him. He was kissing you like crazy, with his tongue exploring your mouth, not giving you any moment to take a breath. One of his hands slid down your shoulder and was going down, until he found the hem of your T-shirt. You felt his fingers on your stomach, shyly first. He was tasting the waters, making sure you were ok with that. Shortly after his whole hand was holding you around your ribcage with his both hands. Circling his thumbs under your breasts, he was slowly moving them up after he found your nipples. 

“I want to see them again.”, his voice was so low, you barely recognized it. 

You whispered a soft “OK” to him and he moved his hands up. T-shirt hooked on his wrist moved up with them. He put it through your head and hooked it on your neck. He didn’t have to do more. He got what he wanted. When he was undressing you, you lifted your hips up and he made you stay that way. Your breasts were right in front of his face and without hesitation he attached his lips to one of them. He licked your nipple, making his tongue flat he slid it up and down, making you moan. He looked up to you, wanting to see your facial expression, wanting to see how much you enjoyed that. He pinched your second nipple which made you whine even louder and his cock even harder. He remembered those sounds, now even more vivid to him, when he wasn’t that drunk. 

While still working your breast with his mouth, his hand moved down, across your thigh, slowly getting closer to your center. THe loose hem of the leg of your shorts gave him easy access to you. His fingers found your core, still covered with your cotton panties, circling it, trying to get inside. Moving them to the side he finally felt how wet you were. 

“Oh fuck… baby, is this all for me?”

You felt a heat rushing through your body. His words made you flustered for some reason, like saying it made it even more real and undeniable. You didn’t know what to say so you blindly shifted your hand to his crotch and found his cock. You started to palm him through his pants, which made him groan. You felt his hot breath and tongue on your skin. But it wasn’t enough. His fingers found your clit and started to slowly move up and down. You made a noise which gave him the perfect confirmation he was doing a good job. Without any further delay you unzipped him and shoved your hand into his pants. He was already hard and precum was gathering on his tip. He slowed his movements when he felt your hand on him, a little unsure what your next move was. You slid his pants and boxer shorts down and freed him. His hard dick slapped into his stomach and you immediately grabbed it and started to pump him. Your hand was sliding on his soft skin, smearing the precum all over him. He started to breathe loud and move his hand on you again. 

You were so wet, you felt it on your thighs. He was touching your clit, sometimes circling it, something sliding up down, left and right. One of his fingers slid inside of you, feeling no resistance. After that the second one joined him, making you stretch a little. You barely felt it. When he started to move them in and out of you, your hips joined them, copying his pace. You didn’t forget about this cock in your hand. He bucked up into your fist when you sped up. He wasn’t able to focus on your nipples anymore. His face landed between your breast, his hot breath made a drop of sweat gather right there. He was whispering sweet nothings to you, you didn’t even understand them. 

You were already chasing your orgasm. The very well known feeling started to build in your stomach and you were desperate to feel it. His fingers were doing wonders on you, circling your clit in a steady pace. You moved your hips closer but his other hand grabbed your hip and held you. You leaned towards him, hid your face in his neck, kissing and sucking the skin. You were focusing on the pleasure he was giving you but still wanted to return the favour. You speed up the pace of your own hand, squeezing his dick hard and making him moan right into your ear. He was getting close like you. You focused on the tip, circling with your thumb on his slit, wanting to make him cum. He was starting to breath faster and louder, squeezing your hip, digging his fingers into your flesh.

Then you heard it. A loud noise, which snapped you from your bliss and made your high disappear in a blink of an eye. He’d heard it too. His hand between your legs froze, but still stayed in place. 

“Was that… from Jimin’s room?”, you asked, completely confused. 

Sweat on Namjoon’s face ran down his cheek and ended up on this neck. He was as confused as you were. He’d heard it too and had no idea what that was.

“I-I need to check that.”

When you moved to leave his lap, he whined and grabbed your hand. He didn’t want to stop, he was so close. His own hand was still in your panties, fingers wet with your arousal ready to get back to work and get you off. You were so tempted to go for it, ignore the noise and forget about everything. But you heard it again. This time you were certain it was from Jimin’s room. He probably woke up. 

You had no other choice but to leave Namjoon’s hard dick alone and stand up. He didn’t like that idea but he finally let you go. His hand left your center and went straight to his mouth. He put his fingers inside and sucked them clean, while looking into your eyes the whole time. This time you whined loudly and cursed Jimin for this.

When you were on your legs again, you put your T-shirt down and went to your roommate’s room. Before you opened the door, you felt Namjoon behind you, his hand landed on your shoulders. You both got inside and discovered Jimin was nowhere to be found. His bed was empty, 

“... da fuck…”

And for some reason, Jimin’s pants were on the floor. You had no memory of undressing him, or Namjoon doing that. Did he wake up and take them off? What for? And how? You both were shocked, until you went around the bed and found him on the floor. He was laying on his stomach, with one hand twisted in a very uncomfortable angle, wearing his T-shirt and boxer shorts. The plastic bowl you left for him was pushed away, but still empty. 

You kneeled next to him, checking if he was okay. He was still breathing, but he left unconscious. Namjoon came to you and helped you to put him on his bed again. You rolled him on his back and covered him with a comforter. He was safe again, although you were really puzzled about what had just happened. You were pretty sure Jimin would not remember this, he was way too drunk, so there was no chance you’d find out anyway. You sighed, put the bowl back to its place and left the room, with Namjoon following you. 

When both of you were outside, you quietly closed the door yet again. You felt Namjoon’s hand on you, how he grabbed you by your shoulder and turned you around to him. Your back hit the wall and his body was pressed into yours immediately, pushing air from your lunges. He grabbed your breast and squeezed it, pushing you even harder into the wall. His kiss was long and passionate but when he detached his lips he just stayed like that, looking at you through his lashes.

‘Why the hell do you have to be such a good kisser?”, he whispered into your lips. 

You felt his boner on your stomach and reached out to touch him again. But he moved away. He kissed you one last time and took a step back. Still looking at you, took a deep breath and turned to the living room. Your mind was still hazy with the intense make out, so you didn’t follow him on the spot. But when you did, he wasn’t sitting on the couch but standing in front of the coffee table. He took his tea and started to drink. In one take, he finished it and put the empty mug back. After that he took his hoodie, walked past you, opened the door and left.

It was the second time he was leaving you like this. 

------

“What came up?”, Jimin put a bag of tea in your mug and poured boiling water. You both smelled the scent of green tea. “I thought you’re free today.“

“I am. I-I just don’t want to leave the house tonight.”

“It’s barely noon. You can still change your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You started to rummage through another cabinet, looking for some cookies. But you couldn’t stop looking at your phone’s screen. Jimin was watching you and noticed how much you were distracted. No wonder you'd broken THE MUG.

“Why are you staring at your phone like that?”

Automatically you did it again. Unread messages’ thumbnails looked at you, asking why you hesitate to read their whole content. 

With a loud crash you closed the cabinet, took your phone and headed to your room.

“I’m going to my room. I need to take care of this.”

Without any more explanation, you took your tea, left the kitchen and locked yourself in your room. When left alone, you took a deep breath and finally unlocked your phone. 

Messages on your phone manifested in front of you and at the point you were certain you read them correctly at the first time.

Unknown [12:36]: You know, I’ve been thinking… We should drink some tea together again

Unknown [12:36]: I’d love to see what next is gonna happen with us in one room

Unknown [12:40]: It’s Namjoon btw

雀

[s-nebul0sa]

I posted a new story!

Kara likes to draw and write in books at her local bookstore. One day, a woman catches her in the act but instead of telling the owner, she just hands Kara her contact information.

–––––

Kara weaves her way through the familiar bookstore. Bright new books tempt her on all sides but these ones are too out in the open. She glances around, getting an idea of where the store’s employees are, and makes her way between two bookshelves where no one else is. There, her eye falls on a familiar book. She read it as a teen and vividly remembers the mental image she crafted for one of the characters. This book is it. This is the one.

She flips to somewhere in the middle of the book, slips a pencil out of her sleeve and puts its tape on the paper. In the margin, of course. A quick doodle. Next, she finds a page with a little more empty space. The last page of a chapter. There, she works on a slightly more elaborate drawing. Still with quick strokes. She’s on a timer here.

With a smile, Kara puts the finishing touches on her sketch. She glances up briefly to make sure no one notices her. As soon as she is done, she hides her pencil in her sleeve and snaps a quick picture of her drawing for her own collection. It has turned out pretty nice for a quick sketch. She snaps the book containing the sketch shut. It would be a shame if she got found out now.

Faking innocence, she places the book back on the shelf, tenderly stroking its back and wishing it a good time out in the world once it’s sold. She turns around and starts searching for the book she came here for in the first place. It’s for her sister and she deserves nothing but the best. Kara knows this bookstore will provide.

She walks out from between the bookcases and makes her way across the stores. She keeps an eye out for any employees, just to be sure. And to gauge her chances for pulling the same thing off a second time. What started out as an innocent joke in a book she had already bought, has turned into something a little... Bigger. But she always makes sure to use pencil and stick to the margins. She doesn’t want to make a book unreadable.

Kara quickly finds the book she’s looking for and tucks it under arm as her eye catches another book. She knows this author, so this book is perfectly suited for some random facts. Kara glances around her and quickly slips the book from its place. She opens it up to a random page and checks the text briefly. Then, she slips her pencil from her sleeve and starts writing some information on the writer that’s not well-known in the margins. Only a few small facts before she slips her pencil back into its home in her sleeve, snaps a picture again and puts the book back.

She moves to the registry to pay, leaving the store with an intensely satisfied feeling.

Continue reading on AO3