#yes i am asleep like the coward that i am

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hurt//comfort with hero or villain tending to the other person’s wounds please….. tyty..

"I..." The villain felt their hands shake. How on earth were they supposed to handle this? Them being here in the hero's house was already too much contact, too much of a mistake. The villain was a mess, that much they could admit.

But was it because they had failed to do their job? Or because the damage they had caused was (inexplicably) too much for them to fall asleep to at night peacefully?

"Hm," the hero said. They closed their eyes. Jogging pants and a simple shirt had exchanged the fancy clothes from yesterday's evening and they sat on their couch, messy hair falling into their eyes. "Here to finish the job?"

The villain didn't find the right words. To be more precise, they didn't find any words at all.

In the back of their mind, the villain laughed at themselves for missing, but another part of them cursed themselves for picking up the gun in the first place.

It had been a simple order. To kill a target.

Killing people for money was merely work for the villain, nothing more. They had never had any ill feelings towards their victims, had never questioned what they were doing. It was as simple as it could get: a simple request, a simple answer, a simple amount of money. But when it had been clear to them that it was the hero, the person who got in their way regularly, they had felt worse than ever.

Although yesterday was already somewhat of a blur, they could remember the horrible feeling in their gut when they had seen the hero at the party through the spotting scope.

Their enemy was highly skilled and the villain had felt like a coward. Like someone who stabbed them from behind. The hero deserved a good and fair fight, not this.

Once the hero had been alone on the balcony, looking over all the other buildings, the villain had made up their mind. Their enemy had looked calm. Peaceful even. They had placed the glass of alcohol on a table nearby. They had leaned against the metallic bannister of the balcony and had stared into the villain's direction, almost as if they could sense them.

They could remember the way the hero's hair had moved in the wind. How tired they had looked, how the fresh air had cooled down the blush on their face.

So, for better or for worse, the villain had taken in a deep breath, aimed at their target and…missed the hero's head.

They had shot their shoulder instead. Had watched the hero's surprise, the quiet gasp, had watched as they had fallen to their knees, had looked around. Confused. Panicked. Desperate.

And the villain had stayed there on the rooftop, hadn't dared to move.

The hero had stood up, gone inside as quickly as possible, had grabbed their jacket and excused themselves. They had left the party without anyone noticing they had been injured and no one - the villain assumed - had gone after them to check if everything was alright.

The villain supposed the hero was good when it came to lying, when it came to excuses.

Now, the villain stared at them. Why were they here? Why hadn't they done their job?

It had been a clear shot. One entry wound, one exit wound. Not deadly. But very, very nasty. Why had they missed on purpose?

"You're bleeding," the villain said quietly. The hero's eyes followed the villain's gaze and together, they stared at the hero's shirt which slowly started to get drenched in blood.

The hero sighed.

"Shit. That's my third shirt this morning. Do you know how difficult it is to get blood stains out of clothes?"

"I...I am aware, yes." The villain didn't know what to do with their hands, they didn't know where to move, what to say. They had never been this stunned, this incompetent. But the hero acted instead of them. They headed for the bathroom and the villain followed like a dog without any hesitation.

"Thank you for missing, by the way," the hero said. They took off their shirt while they were walking and the villain did not miss how much they struggled with their injured shoulder. The villain wanted to touch them, wanted to help but in the last second, they withdrew their hand and the hero didn't even notice the villain's intentions.

"I'm a lousy shot," the villain said.

"Everyone knows that's bullshit." The hero came to a stop in the bathroom and the villain nearly bumped into them when they set a foot in the room.

The room looked like a scene from a horror movie. Blood was everywhere, bandages were everywhere. Pills were scattered on the ground, bloody clothes were hanging over the sink, the toilet, the bathtub.

"Excuse the mess, will you?" The hero crouched to pick up the green first aid kit.

And the villain didn't know their body was capable of those feelings. With their heartbeat in their throat and their heart sending waves of pain into their chest, the villain feared for a moment that they had gotten horribly sick in the last few hours. Judging by the dark circles under the hero's eyes, they had spent most of the remaining night here in the bathroom, trying to fix two wounds. One of which they could barely reach.

"Sit down." The villain managed to keep their voice steady. They swallowed, tasted bile. They were...angry?

"Just give me sec-" Not at the hero, though.

"No. Sit down. Right here, right now," the villain ordered. They put their hand on the hero's healthy shoulder and pushed them down until there was no protest. Once that was done, the villain kneeled behind them, put a flat hand on the hero's naked back and observed the doings of their bullet.

The wound on the hero's back was barely treated - it had been bleeding long before the villain had noticed the bleeding on the other side. Dark reds, fleshy pinks and sickly blues mixed together and created a gruesome painting the villain had seen too many times before but could barely handle now.

"You need to see a doctor," the villain decided.

"Pff, I'm fi-" The villain put minimal pressure on the red and purple bruises around the wound and the hero gasped hard enough for the villain to fear they would throw up any second.

"I can't tell how much your shoulder blade is damaged. If the bone splintered..."

"I'm fine," the hero said.

"I can stitch the wounds but that's all, you need to see a doctor nonetheless."

"I have never needed a doctor."

"I am not asking nicely," the villain said and this time, their voice cracked. The hero turned their head to look at them but the villain's attention was on the wound.

Or maybe they were too afraid to look at them.

"Honestly, I am not a resentful person, but let's not forget who did this in the first place."

The villain leaned back a little, the words stuck in the back of their throat.

"I'm..." They couldn't, they simply couldn't say it. They started to whisper. "It's just a job."

"Just a job," the hero sneered. They grabbed a clean cloth and pressed it into the open wound they could reach. Without another word, they grabbed the needle, cleaned it and gave it to the villain, along with some thread. "...like I said. I'm not resentful."

The villain got to work and pierced into the hero's skin. They could hear the hisses, the weak laughs to overshadow the pain. It wasn't pretty - soon enough the hero’s blood was running down the villain's fingertips but they did (somehow) manage to fabricate some decent stitches.

"...you don't have to say it. I forgive you either way," the hero said through gritted teeth. "And it doesn't matter anyway. You're...you are here now."

Once the villain was done, the hero turned around and the villain, for the love of them, couldn't look the hero in the eyes.

"But it was an order, wasn't it? You didn't just decide to shoot me."

The villain cleaned the needle and started again. This time, however, they could see the hero's grimaces, not only the pain in spasming muscles but also the pain in their eyes, the exhaustion between their words. And that made it more difficult.

The villain wanted to touch them, to comfort them. But they couldn’t, just like they couldn’t apologise to them.

There was something wrong with them, something broken within them. What kind of person couldn’t whisper a simple apology?

"Yes, it was," the villain said. Their hands were still shaking a bit.

"I was pretty drunk when it happened," the hero admitted. "And my adrenaline was kicking in immediately. At first, I barely noticed. Once I was home, I was crying instead of screaming. Didn't wanna wake up the neighbors. I honestly thought this was it."

The villain didn't answer. Their heart was heavy enough and even though the hero didn't consider themselves resentful, forgiveness was still arduous to ask for and even harder to deserve.

"Please," the villain said. "Please, just hate me. It would make this a lot easier for me."

"I'm not here to make it easier for you," the hero said and with that, the villain finished the stitches and felt even worse than before. They supposed they deserved it, but whatever peace of mind they had longed for, the hero didn't give it to them.

Instead, they gave the villain undeserved compassion, horrible understanding and infuriating kindness. It was enough torture for the villain already.

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild romance AU -

Buggy makes his own explosives, which doesn't sound all that important until you sit back and think of the ramifications and knowledge required for that. Buggy is damn good with chemistry, math, physics, and I bet he was the brain to Shanks's brawn on the Oro Jackson; he'd probably have been all over Crocus whenever he could to learn more about anything and everything.

Crocodile and Mihaw don't really put the two together, given that they see Buggy primarily as an idiot and coward. It's when an epidemic spreads on the island that some odd things click into place-

Buggy has forgone the big costume, is in comfy and sturdy clothes. His face is painted minimally, hair tied into a tight bun, bandana on, and he's working side by side with the medical professionals. He's elbows deep in checking vitals, organizing charts, and even synthesizing medications. More members are sick than not, and they go under a near-quarantine lock down to handle the illness. Between working in the medical tents and taking care of his people, Buggy has also had a hand in organizing for resources to be sent and delivered.

Neither Croc nor Hawk had even considered some of the balls Buggy has gotten rolling. They both have very strong immune systems, so they rarely face or think of illness or sickness as something to prepare for or to account for, but this just exploded one day seemingly without warning, and the clown had a plan in motion by eevening.

It's at this point that they begin to wonder if maybe there's something more to their Chairman than they first thought...

((Bonus points, they catch Buggy coming back from a long shift at the medtent, sent off by the other's to get some rest, so he's just at that sweet spot of tired enough to lose filter. They ask about the medicines, and Buggy goes on a mini infodump about chemicals, hormones, enzymes, antioxidants and antibiotics, mentions that he and a few others already have a few batches baking, and sleepily chuckles about how "the simpler ones seem to work well so far, thank goodness. I was worried... *yawn* that I'd have to dip into my supplies for my testosterone... *falls asleep at the table*.

Croc just becomes the Spiderman meme of "TRANS???" when Buggy wakes up))

I LOVE this is an understatement, this is so good!!! I love Competent!Buggy so much!!! Why can't the clown be a fucking genius while being clown-failure babygirl he is?

Buggy having a plan by evening is because he has so much anxiety, I mean, look at the poor clown! It's always the things that he didn't think of that happens that gets him in trouble. But this, he can do this. I also love the headcanon, that Buggy learn a lot of things from Crocus, so he has this in the bag!

It would be funny if Buggy could be fine in a really bad pandemics, but the flu and whatever the happened near Laugh-Tale is his biggest sickness problems. What am I saying, back to this cool ask!

Buggy being competent because he doesn't want his crew to die or get really ill, not because he needs them to work, but because he wants them healthy and happy. Buggy forgoing the pillow onesie for something better, and not taking that much time on his makeup is so good, that just shows how he priorities his Nakama before himself is so cute! I have a headcanon that Buggy has a least a Field Medic degree or a Nurse one. Mihawk and Crocodile watching at the sidelines is what I see them doing, because like the clown's being competent and they see there's not much they can do in this.

Yes, on Buggy rambling on and on about things he does, I want Buggy to infodump so hard. Like really really hard, Buggy could go on and on about things that interests him for a while.

Buggy is every gender and nothing at all to me, and the spiderman meme with Crocodile is the only one pointing at Buggy while Buggy is confused and sleepy, while Mihawk is just there on the sidelines. Is really funny to me.

[oddinary4bts]

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 6 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in previous/later chapters)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: mentions of sex/hot tub scene. hickey. angst (oops), might be a curse somewhere in there?

☆word count: 5.8k

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: I am very sorry for all the angst that is to follow. Please don't hate me and please enjoy reading still haha! Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, July 8th

                Waking up next to Jungkook feels weird. You reckon it might be because you haven’t slept a lot, and people are already moving around the cottage. You’ve refused to open your eyes so far, just because you’ve heard Jiho and Hobi whispering about you and Jungkook and you feel too much of a coward to admit you probably fucked things up with him already.

You think Jiho has taken a picture. Knowing her, she definitely has, and you wish you could just disappear for a time. You eventually force yourself to get up though, before Jungkook who is still dead asleep when you move to the kitchen. You suffer through Jiho’s questioning, but she quickly notices that you’re shut off, lost in thought and maybe even dabbling in a little regret too.

From there she shuts down everyone that asks questions, and by the time Jungkook gets up, everyone is just pretending they haven’t noticed that something definitely happened between the two of you.

Jungkook doesn’t really look at you. He eats breakfast chatting with Taehyung and Jin, avoiding you like the plague. You can tell you’ve hurt him, but you don’t know how to fix it. After all, you’ve never really been acquainted with feelings yourself. Especially not after your parents’ divorce.

The day feels heavy. It’s still warm outside, far too much, and a veil of dark clouds is looming over the horizon by the time you have to leave the cottage. Your mood imitates the weather, and you find yourself brooding more than you usually do.

You haven’t been able to talk to Jungkook yet. Mostly because he’s been avoiding you, yes. But also because you don’t know what to tell him.

“Hey, I’m shit at relationships and feelings, yesterday felt too real” sounds like too much of a confession. Even though it is the truth, you’re a coward, through and through.

Jiho’s been trying to get your mind off things. Texting you random stupid things, sending you memes as Hobi drives the four of you home. Heather is riding with Chaeyeon, Lance and Bridget this time around, so there’s a space between you and Jungkook. This time, when he falls asleep, he falls asleep with his head resting against the window, and not on your shoulder.

It starts raining halfway home, and Hobi drives slower, windshield wiper going on full blast. Jiho sends you yet another meme – something absurd you can’t bring yourself to find funny. It earns you a frown from your best friend, and a second later your phone vibrates in your hand.

[1:23 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re supposed to laugh☹️ [1:23 pm] You: i want to talk to Jungkook but idk what to tell him🫠 [1:25 pm] Jiho❣️: what really happened yesterday? i wanna help but it’s hard if idk [1:26 pm] You: we made out in the hot tub then fucked when we were supposed to sleep🤡 [1:26 pm] Jiho❣️: bruh i wish i had a make-out session in the hot tub [1:27 pm] You: 🙄🙄 [1:27 pm] Jiho❣️: sorry [1:27 pm] Jiho❣️: pretty sure more than just fucking happened considering both of you are upset [1:30 pm] You: i told him we shouldn’t have fucked after and he got upset [1:31 pm] Jiho❣️: bitch he’s into u ofc he’ll be upset [1:31 pm] You: u’re not helping [1:32 pm] Jiho❣️: are u into him?

You don’t know the answer. You ask yourself that question for the rest of the day, and you reckon you really don’t know. A lot changed between you and Jungkook over the weekend, but it’s hard to ignore the fact you have never really liked him. Because he was a dick and a bully to you for years.

It’s not something you think you can just forget because you’ve had sex with him once. And you don’t even know if you’d be interested in a relationship with him anyway. You’ve never been in a relationship before at all, and the thought of it terrifies you.

The thought of Jungkook being upset with you terrifies you in equal measures, but you refuse to admit it to yourself. Maybe because you’re trying to protect yourself. It’s hard to tell. You feel like you won’t be able to go through your feelings by yourself – they’re overwhelming, all of them.

Thinking about Jungkook is overwhelming. Thinking about dancing under the stars, about his scar, about the way he held onto you after he finished. Everything is overwhelming, and it makes you anxious. Jumpy, even, as you’re sitting in your room in your mother’s empty house later at night.

You’re halfway through a Studio Ghibli movie that was supposed to help you relax when you decide to text your therapist to schedule an appointment this week. It feels like the right thing to do – you know Mary has always been able to help you sort through your thoughts, even though you haven’t seen her in months.

You don’t expect her to reply tonight considering it’s late in the evening, but you linger on your messaging app. You can’t resist but scroll down a little, down to where Jungkook’s name lies on the screen. You click on the conversation, rereading the last messages he sent you from when he was drunk a little over a week ago. It makes your heart squeeze in your chest a little, and you scroll all the way up to the first time he texted you in April. You haven’t talked much at all, so it’s not like there’s a lot, but you can’t help yourself. You reread everything, entirely ignoring the movie playing on your laptop.

When you’re done reading, you find yourself typing a text even though you don’t know what to say. It seems your fingers know, because a moment later you find yourself staring at a fully formed sentence. It looks as if it’s taunting you, and you reread it so many times the words start to lose their meaning.

[9:47 pm] You: hey, i really enjoyed the weekend with u and i’m genuinely really sorry about yesterday…

It takes you all the courage your body can conjure up to press send. You immediately turn off your phone to focus on your laptop and on the movie, though it doesn’t really work at all. The anxiety the message has brought up in you makes the story of Totoro way too hard to follow, and you’re merely watching the scenes, barely even blinking.

When the movie ends, you get ready for bed. You haven’t dared check your phone yet, but a little bit of anticipation has been steadily building inside of you. Because you hope he’ll answer. You hope you won’t have to explain why you are the way that you are for things to go back to normal with him. Maybe because offering him your vulnerability feels like too much of a commitment for someone that doesn’t do commitments at all.

You know you’ll hate yourself at your internship the next day, but you can’t really sleep after you’ve settled under the comforter in your bed. It’s way past midnight when you finally gather the courage to look at your phone, teeth worrying at your bottom lip.

Your empty notification screen stares back at you, as if to say ‘you really thought that would change anything?’

You sigh, putting your phone away on your night table before turning on your side, grabbing a pillow to hold. It’s still raining outside, and your brain focuses on the splattering of rain on the panes of the window. You think maybe Jungkook went to bed early, considering you didn’t get a lot of sleep in the last two days. Maybe he’s asleep and will reply tomorrow…

You cling onto that hope as the sound of the rain finally lulls you to a troubled sleep.

Tuesday, July 10th

                Jungkook has been in a shit mood. He knows why, and it’s strange to think that it’s not his leg for once. What makes it worse is that everyone around him knows too, thanks to the hickey on his neck.

And it’s only worse when you don’t show up to dance practice. Jiho mentions something about you being stuck at your internship, but Jungkook doesn’t ask. He feels like maybe he could text you to make sure you’re okay. His heart wants him to do it, but his mind is stronger.

And his mind has been winning the war against his heart so far. He won’t cave in now. But he’s still in a shit mood when he gets home after practice. It feels even worse when he sees Taehyung and Jo cuddled up on the couch, and Jimin sprawled up on the floor.

Jimin’s texting away on his phone, and Taehyung meets Jungkook’s gaze where he stopped by the door.

“Practice is already done?” Taehyung asks.

It brings Jimin and Jo’s attention to Jungkook. He just stands there for a time, not knowing what to say.

Not wanting to admit he wrapped dance practice earlier because he was pissed that you weren’t there.

“Yeah,” Jungkook lets out flatly. He finally starts moving again, aiming straight to the kitchen.

He misses the way Jo and Taehyung exchange a concerned look when he passes in front of them, or maybe he just ignores it. He’s been ignoring Jo since the weekend, because it feels like too much pressure to admit that her plan worked and failed in the same night.

Yes, he got to sleep with you, but he’d take it back if he could. Just so it wouldn’t lead to where you’re standing now. Because he’s never replied to your text on Sunday night. Maybe because it was too early, and seeing it just pissed him off more.

Or maybe he’s just trying to preserve himself because he’s realized being with you might be a lot more complicated than previously thought.

He’s pouring cereal in a bowl when he receives a text. He fears that he’s conjured you up for a few seconds, but then he reads the name at the head of the notification. Laura. He furrows his brows, reading her text a few times over to make sure he’s read well. On his fifth reading he reckons the words won’t change even if he keeps glaring at them.

And Laura doesn’t deserve him being upset with her too. Actually, he realizes she might be just what he needs – a distraction, perhaps. Because all he wants is to forget how it felt to be with you last Saturday. And it’s not even about the sex. No, the part that’s been sticking with him is the moment between the hot tub and the sex. When he laid his heart on the table for you.

Had he known you were going to step on it a little under an hour later, Jungkook knows he would have never asked you to dance. It was a stupid request, one that made everything too real.

He can’t really blame you for getting scared. Because he knows that’s what it is. You got scared when he told you you should have slept together before, and he’s been embarrassed since then. Because he said the words in the heat of the action, and even though he meant them – means them – he’d rather not have told you.

Because now when he thinks of you he’s embarrassed, upset, and of course he’s pissed. He’s been in a shit mood after all.

He sighs, pushing his hair back before moving to the fridge to grab the milk. He pours some in the bowl, before grabbing a spoon in the drawer and making his way to the table, where he sits to eat the cereals. He’s halfway through his bowl when he finally decides to open his phone and reply to Laura.

[9:01 pm] Laura: Hey, I gotta admit… I’d like to see you sometime this week? If you’re up for it ofc [9:08 pm] Jungkook: yes ofc! i’m free tmrw evening if u want😌

He doesn’t even know if he actually wants to see her. It makes him think of when he helped her with her camera last week. Laura is sweet. Cute and shy. She’s his type, he can’t deny it. But she’s nice, and he doesn’t think she deserves him using her as a distraction.

He reckons he’s a mess. You’ve been messing with his head far too much, and he doesn’t like that you have that power over him. He doesn’t want anyone to have that power over him.

Yet it’s relieving that for once his mind isn’t clouded with dark thoughts related to the accident. Because he can’t really think about the accident when you’re there whenever he closes his eyes. When he can almost feel your warmth lingering under his fingers, along his body. When he thinks he can still smell your shampoo, and feel your soft skin.

The way that he feels disgusts him. It makes him scoff, and he’s frowning as he finishes eating his cereals. The frown only relaxes when Laura texts him again.

[9:12 pm] Laura: I’m available too! There’s a restaurant I’ve been wanting to try? Is that something you’d like to do?

The way that she texts sounds formal. It makes him laugh, and he finds himself replying,

[9:13 pm] Jungkook: wait, so then it’s a date date uh? [9:16 pm] Laura: Maybe?☺️ [9:17 pm] Jungkook: is 7 o’clock good for u?

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He doesn’t usually do real dates, preferring hanging out at the girl’s place or inviting her over for one of the many parties they usually host. But he needs the distraction, right?

And when he’s texting Laura, he realizes he’s not thinking about you as much. It’s relieving after the last few days, and really, maybe he should just give her a chance.

Wednesday, July 11th

                Your therapist works in a building that’s surprisingly not too far from your internship. You were able to schedule an appointment for tonight, which is a relief.

You’ve been thinking about this weekend so much you haven’t been able to focus at the internship. So much so that you were stuck at the office later yesterday. You didn’t mind having to skip the dance practice though – you were glad you didn’t have to see Jungkook.

But now, it’s time for you to sort out your thoughts about the whole situation. As much as pretending that everything is fine can be fun, you also hate the way your mind wanders every night. Especially considering Jungkook never replied to your text last Sunday.

You feel like he’s slipping through your fingers. And maybe he is, and maybe all of this will be for nothing.

Well, not necessarily nothing, since it’s always good to get a grip of yourself.

You sigh, and you walk into the building right before a rain shower starts. You’re relieved you were able to avoid getting wet, and you walk to the front desk to give your name to the lady. She puts you in the computer and then tells you to sit in the waiting room. You thank her, and you’ve barely had time to sit when Mary comes to get you.

Mary’s office hasn’t changed one bit since the last time you sought her help in February. You sit on the same couch, and she offers you a glass of water as she greets you. And then she asks what brings you there.

At that you still. You freeze, like a deer in headlights, because for a moment you’re terrified of having to say the words aloud. Terrified to admit you felt something last Saturday, and you think you’ve already screwed it all up. She listens to you intently, and you watch her scribble on her pad as you do so. You’re tempted to read what she’s written; you’ve always wondered what it is that therapists write on that notebook of theirs.

Is she piecing out your soul the way that you feel like she is?

You tell her everything. You tell her about how Jungkook came back into your life, differently this time. You tell her about the dance practices, and about your internship too. You tell her about last weekend, and you reveal every little dirty thought your brain dared to think. Mary doesn’t judge, and when you’re done, the only thing she says is, “You’re really good at psycho-analyzing yourself”.

You reckon she’s right. Because you know exactly why you acted the way that you did – with the example your parents gave you of love growing up, it’s hard to actually love. It’s even harder to deconstruct it, to deconstruct the fear until you can build yourself back into someone that can love.

It’s not that you think you can’t. You love Jiho, Jisung and their family plenty. But it’s different when it’s love with a big L. It’s always been, and you’ve never once really wanted to change it.

But now you do. You’ve been using your fears to protect yourself from others for far too long.

Mary makes a plan with you. Nothing too big, but she does suggest scheduling another appointment next week. Because you knowing what you need to do is half of the work, yes, but you still need to put it into practice. You agree with her, and you leave her office feeling lighter than you’ve felt in days.

The plan is for you to ask Jungkook if you can talk. You have the option to wait until tomorrow at dance practice, or to text him tonight, just so he knows in advance that you want to talk to him. Mary favoured the latter, saying that it’d give him time to prepare if he has things to tell you too.

You have no idea if he does, but the moment on Saturday felt heavy. You doubt there’s been nothing on his mind since then… because you were there. You know how it felt like, under the stars and after that. And the whole weekend, if you’re honest to yourself. You doubt he was immune to it.

You decide to wait a little before you text him. Just to make sure you really are going to do this. Because it feels like you’re standing at the top of a cliff, and you’ve never been a cliff diver. No, you’re far too afraid of heights. But the fact that you haven’t been able to get Jungkook off your mind tells you enough: you’d jump off the highest cliff for him.

Because if you don’t risk it, what is there to win?

So it’s later that night, when you’re rewatching your favourite anime, that you find yourself pausing the show. You go to your messaging app, and heart beating out of your chest you type a message. Something simple, something straight to the point. Because the fact he ignored your last message says enough: Jungkook won’t cave in for apologies, especially not over text.

You settle on,

[9:31 pm] You: hey jk! can we talk tmrw after practice?😌

You press send before you can convince yourself that this is not a good idea, and anxiety blooms in every inch of you. It’s a foreign feeling: you’ve never been so anxious when it came to someone else before in your life.

Watching your favourite anime after that has never been so hard.

Thursday, July 12th

                You don’t want to go to practice. Everything feels like it’s going too fast and too slow at the same time: waiting for Jungkook to reply is excruciatingly long, and having to head to the dance studio is coming far too quickly.

Jungkook hasn’t replied. You texted Mary about it – she said to see in person if Jungkook wants to talk, but to also respect it if he doesn’t. It makes you far less hopeful than you were when you got out of her office yesterday, but you know she is right.

If this is his way of setting a boundary, you will have to respect. No matter how much it upsets you.

So it’s in an anxious state of mind that you make your way to the studio. You run into Jiho on the way, and you’re worrying at your bottom lip when she asks, “What’s wrong?”

Your steps falter a little, and you throw her a side glance. “Uh?”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

She knows that you used to see a therapist. But telling her that you saw Mary again about Jungkook feels like too big of a confession. It gives him too much power, and you’re not sure you’re ready for that. But you can tell some parts of the truth, can you?

“I’m going to try and talk to Jungkook tonight.”

Jiho remains suspiciously silent for a time. “Are you sure you want to talk to him?”

“I guess,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “I just feel bad about this weekend.” Jiho offers you a sad smile, as your eyes fall to the concrete in front of you. “It’s just like, I don’t know, I liked where last weekend was going and I don’t want it to go back to the way things were before.” You pause, already feeling a little lighter now that you’ve started talking to your best friend. “Like I know I got scared and all, but he’s actually pretty decent?”

Now, Jiho’s smile has turned knowing, and she nudges you with her elbow. “I think I saw that coming from miles away but I didn’t want you to kill me.”

“Uh?” you let out, feeling a little confused.

“Everyone always thought you two were into each other,” she admits, and she laughs loudly when you push her. “Exactly why I didn’t want to tell you,” she says when her laughter subsides as you offer her a fake glare, lips jutting out in a small pout.

“I mean, I don’t even know if that’s where things are going,” you say. Your fear returns, and you’re back to nibbling on your lower lip. “Like, maybe I just fucked up too bad?”

“Did you talk since then?” Jiho asks.

You refuse to look at her when you reply. “No. He ignored my texts.”

From the corner of your eyes you see Jiho wince. Because she knows just as well as you what it probably means, and you don’t want to hear her say it.

“What did you tell him?”

You shrug your shoulders, trying to act as indifferent as possible. “Sunday I said that I was sorry, and I asked him if we could talk after dance practice yesterday.”

“And he said nothing?”

It’s rhetorical, so you remain silent. You’re reaching the bridge, and you know the conversation will soon come to an obligated end anyway.

“Babe…”  Jiho lets out carefully. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk to him.”

It makes you scoff. “I’ll be chill, don’t worry.”

“I’m not saying you won’t be,” Jiho says. She grabs your arm to make you stop. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk.”

You free your arm from her grip, though she was already letting you go. “I’ll ask. We’ll see. I just want to clear the air.”

Jiho holds your defiant gaze for a while, before nodding once. “Alright. Sounds good. You let me know what he says.” She pauses for a few seconds, before adding, “And we’re still on for Thirsty Thursdays after that.”

Of course you are, and of course you’ll tell her. She’s your best friend after all, and you don’t remember a time when you really hid anything from her.

It doesn’t stop your heart from aching in your chest as you near the studio.

*****

                Dance practice feels weird. You can’t help your eyes from diverting to Jungkook where he’s standing, next to the mirrors. He’s good at pretending he doesn’t feel your gaze on him, yet more than once you catch him already looking.

He looks good. He’s in paler clothes than his usual today – light blue jeans with an oversized white t-shirt – and his hair is ruffled by the way he keeps running his hands through it. He looks like he doesn’t care, almost. Because you can tell he’s anxious about something whenever you catch him pulling at his piercing, eyebrows slightly furrowed over his eyes.

You don’t know when you started being able to read him so well, but you surely can now.

He calls dance practice off earlier than his usual, and he still hasn’t really looked at you. You’re pretty sure everyone has noticed by now, especially considering the fact Jiho hasn’t really been subtle about it. She’s glaring at Jungkook most of the time, and he just shrugs his shoulders to her.

It’s weird. Something is off, but if you’re going to do this, you’ll do it, right?

It’s in that anxious state of mind that you approach him as everyone filters out. His hands are buried in his pockets and he’s leaning against the mirror. It’s like he’s waiting for you, and you figure maybe he did read your message after all.

The first few seconds of standing in front of him are far more awkward than anything you’ve ever experienced in your entire life. You don’t know what to say, don’t know where to start, and Jungkook’s head is hanging too low for you to be able to catch his gaze without invading his personal space. So you stay rooted in your spot, and you wait for him to look at you. It takes a while, but he eventually looks up.

You’re taken aback by the bitter annoyance his features hold. “What?”

You’ve written in your notes app what you wanted to say. You’ve even practiced it, but now you don’t remember a single word.

His eyes are sad. It’s the only thing that feels different on his features. The rest is all annoyed: his eyebrows are furrowed, the corners of his lips are pointing downwards. His shoulders are low, defeated, and he seems to realize it because he straightens and folds his arms on his chest.

“Uh,” you choke out against the anxiety that’s building up inside of you. “I just…”

“If you want to apologize again, I received your message last Sunday.”

You brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, before folding your arms on your chest too. “Why did you ignore me?”

He shrugs, shaking his head a little as he looks away. “I have nothing to tell you.”

“Jungkook, can you please not? We’re adults.”

“Yeah, and I’m choosing to not be talking with you. I’m sure you can respect that?”

You can. You definitely can. But at the same time you can’t. Not when he says it like that, like it’s some sort of an insult.

“Why are you overreacting like that?”

“Because I’m fucking embarrassed about last weekend!” he bursts. “I wish it never happened.”

It hurts. It stings and burns, and you hold your arms tighter against you. “You’re embarrassed? Is that why you said you wished we did it earlier?”

His gaze turns vicious, like he’s a viper waiting to strike. “See, that’s exactly why I do not want to talk to you. I don’t think we can be friends either. We’ve never been friends, like you oh so kindly reminded me, and that won’t change.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to relax, because this is not where you want this conversation to be going. “Listen,” you say after a few seconds of silence, “I really don’t want to be fighting with you. I just want to clear the air.”

“The air is cleared,” he says as you open your eyes to meet his fiery gaze again. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.”

You’re struck then. You feel like you either have the choice to confess or to stick to your anger. And you try to confess, you really do. It’s not like with Jiho – Jungkook was part of the moment Saturday, he was there with you under the stars. So it shouldn’t be too hard to tell him, to say you got scared.

You open your mouth to say the words, and shut it immediately as he scoffs.

“See, I don’t even think we should be speaking at all,” he says. There’s a fraction of a second when you’re convinced you can read pain in his gaze before he continues, “I’m actually seeing Laura, and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

Every word you’ve ever known vanishes from your mind. You just stand there for a moment, mouth hanging open, ears ringing as you look at him. You feel like you’re falling, or maybe you’re getting crushed. It’s hard to tell. It’s equally as hard to breathe, and your lungs burn as oxygen fills them.

“What?”

“I went on a date with Laura and I actually like the girl, I don’t want to fuck things up by talking to you,” he says, slowly, as if he needs to hammer every word into your head.

Laura? The girl from his class?

“Isn’t that the girl you told me you don’t care about?”

Your voice is somehow flat. Empty of the emotions it held just a few seconds ago.

“I went on a date with her and I like her,” he repeats as if you’re stupid and didn’t understand the first time around. As if your heart is not breaking in your chest, infinitely so.

You didn’t know how big your heart is until this moment, when every beat just breaks a little more, and all you can think to do is hold yourself tighter. As if it’ll stop the breaking.

“When?”

“Why do you want to know?” he asks, and his eyes fall shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You really do feel stupid then, stupid and foolish and everything in between. Like you’re a five-years-old that keeps messing her right from her left.

“I… how the fuck did you go on a date with her already, it’s been four days?”

“A lot can change in four days, Y/n,” he drawls.

You think your nails might be digging in your palms from how hard you’re clenching your fists. “Wow.”

The studio falls silent. It’s heavy, and maybe the silence is what’s been crushing you. Because you were expecting it – the moment you and Jungkook wouldn’t have anything else to tell each other. Because for everything you were willing to confess, now there’s just an empty spot inside of you.

You hold his gaze. He doesn’t look all that infuriated anymore. Defeated, yes, and maybe a little deflated. He looks like he didn’t expect the conversation to go there.

But you were right. Turns out you were right and you are too late. You can’t help but hate him for it.

“You don’t waste your time, do you?” you ask, and you scoff bitterly. “You fuck one girl and then another in just a few days. Suits you well.”

He rolls his eyes. “As I said, I wish we didn’t sleep together. If I could take last weekend back I would.” He shrugs then, shaking his head a little. “I’m sure you understand.”

You purse your lips, trying to keep them from trembling as you feel a lump form in your throat. “I can’t believe you’re already fucking some other girl.”

“Okay, Y/n, as if that’s going to change anything.”

You nod, and you find yourself fleeing his gaze. Because you don’t want him to see how you’re breaking inside. How every piece of you turns inside out, until you’re bleeding out standing there in front of him.

“Just…”

You think about the stars. You think about the way he led you in that dance, the way his eyes shone as he looked at you.

Jungkook is cataclysmic. He really is. And cataclysms are rarely good, are they? They can create, yes, the way the universe was once created, but they destroy. They destroy and destroy until nothing remains, until you just feel like you’re drowning and burning all at once.

“Save your breath,” he says. You think his gaze is shining again, and you don’t think it’s shining for the same reason that it was under the stars. “And I mean that in the most respectful way.”

“Right. As if that would ever sound respectful.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, whatever. I’m done here.”

It occurs to you that you’re about to watch someone you care about walk out of your life again. You want to reach out and hold him, to tell him how you feel, to say how everything has started to hurt, but you can’t. You can just look at him, hold his gaze until he makes the decision to go.

He’s gone before you’ve truly assimilated just how bad everything went. Just how far south things went, and how fiercely everything burns. And you stand there for a long time, holding yourself, waiting for the heartbreak to stop. But the thing with heartbreak is that it never fully stops, does it? You just learn to deal with it better.

It’s weird. You never thought you could be cold and burning at the same time. But if this is hell, then hell has frozen over because you’re shivering, just holding yourself.

You feel like you’re sixteen again, like you watched your dad walk out of your life again. Maybe because Jungkook really was the cataclysm to you, and now you’re stuck with the aftermath.

But you don’t cry. No, you hold the tears in. Force them to dry without having rolled on your cheeks, convince them that you don’t care. It’s something you’re good at. Pretending. Because maybe you’ve been pretending you hate Jungkook for a lot longer than you thought. Maybe that’s the reason why it hurts so bad.

But you won’t cry, no. You won’t cry for Jeon Jungkook.

You get home later that night, after having walked through a daze for the whole evening. You’re drunk, and you’re still aching from the inside out. Your phone is in your hand, and you’ve been on Jungkook’s conversation for so long without blinking that your eyes have fully gone dry.

You watch the text you’ve just sent, the only proof that you ever cared about Jungkook.

[2:31 am] You: i reall y wish things ddn’t go so bad

It takes you three days to realize it never delivered.

Friday, July 20th

                It takes Jungkook a little under two weeks to officialise things with Laura. It’s moving quickly, he’s aware of it, but he’s been trying to ignore the way he saw your heart break in your eyes. It seems the best way to do it is to watch feelings swell in someone else’s gaze, and so he asks Laura to be his girlfriend after their third date.

She says yes, beaming like she’s the sun personified.

Still, when Jungkook closes his eyes at night, all he sees is your heart breaking in your eyes.

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh.. my bad. I really went far with this angst uh? What do we think? What's going to happen next?

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist (strike-through means dumblr is not letting me tag you):

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[bonobonoyaatheart]

Punching bag? - Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You care and worry for Jungkook? In return, you feel like his emotional punching bag, despite of his intentions being different.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/comfort

Pairing: Jungkook x GN reader

"I am so done, Jungkook. Don't you understand? Have I been waiting for you all day just to receive cold and distant replies? Just to hear that I'm being irritating because I care for you? Do you think I'm your punching bag?" You were practically screaming at this point.

Jungkook turned away from you. He hated arguing with you. He was scared that fighting would only make things worse. What if he said things that hurt you even more? "Don't run away! Come here and talk to me, I need answers. Jungkook!!" You tried to grab his arm, but Jungkook avoided you as he headed to your shared bedroom.

Jungkook sighed as he collapsed onto the bed. The whole week had been incredibly stressful at work. He was slowly losing his mind with the workload. He knew he was wrong. He had to treat you better, but he was failing to act on these thoughts.

He heard you entering the room. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He heard you mumbling to yourself. "I hate all this. I don't understand why he's acting this way. He's clearly being a jerk. I don't deserve the way he's been treating me." You just pulled the blanket over your head and let yourself drift off to sleep.

A fear was slowly consuming Jungkook's mind. What if you left him? What if you were disappointed with him and started hating him beyond repair? He fell asleep with all these thoughts on his mind.

You were still awake, staring at the wall with your back facing Jungkook. You just couldn't fall asleep after the argument you had. You felt Jungkook moving too much in bed. You turned to find him curled up, and you were quickly alarmed. You sat up and called to him.

"Kook? Hey, are you asleep?" You heard his soft sobs. He was shivering. "Kook, wake up. I'm here." You looked at his tear-streaked face. He slowly opened his eyes, just to let more tears roll down. He suddenly clung to you. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Please don't go anywhere," he buried his head in your lap.

"It's ok, I'm here, Kook. Can you tell me what happened? Did you have a nightmare?" You caressed his soft hair. Yes, you were still mad from last night. But right now you had to put that aside and focus on him.

Jungkook looked at you with those glassy eyes and nodded. "I saw us arguing again, and I was being a coward and running away yet again. You were very angry, and you realized I'm not worth your love anymore, and you decided to break up and left me.” Some more tears rolled down his cheeks. ”Please forgive me, please, please don't go anywhere. I know I haven't done anything to deserve you. I was being a jerk. But I need you.”

You wiped his tears with your thumb and looked into his eyes. Fear was visible in his dark brown orbs. ”It's ok, Kookie, I'm gonna be here with you. I won't leave you ever. We can fix this, you know. I hope you understand how much I care for you. Your being distant only worries me more.”

”But I trust you, I know you get frustrated. But from now on, share your worries and frustrations with me instead of taking them out on me like you've been doing for the whole last week.”

”Yes, I am so sorry,” he said, snuggling into your chest. ”Please be here, I can't do without you.” You wrapped him securely in your arms. ”I'll be there for you, baby. We've both been through thick and thin, so everything will be fine. This is just a small thing that we can fix together.”

Jungkook breathed softly in your embrace, soon falling asleep. You were going to make this right. Your love was worth fighting for. You were worth fighting for. He was worth fighting for.

These small cracks in your relationship were just tiny rocks and stones on the road of your wonderful love life. Because at the end of the day, it was your love that was going to win.

[mahi-does-some-art]

Mahiru Shirota's life is going to fall apart as soon as we get any, any new information about his mother.

With chapter 136, Lily reveals to Misono that Touma Taishi is Mahiru Shirota's biological father and it was the reason why Lily had planted Kuro in that alleyway to pick up. I am inclined to believe him because it adds up in the story as a whole; Why Kuro was there in the first place since we know he had been asleep under Alicein manor for the last 200 years.

Along with the fact that Hokaze (Misono's mom) was finally revealed to be a promiscuous woman who was a very active participant in the cheating scandal, I cannot believe that Akira was in no way involved in this plot to resurrect the Count Saint Germaine. Akira may not be on the side that wants to bring him back but she was a part of it no less, we just do not know how yet. (I am figuratively biting my nails waiting to see the ball drop for her)

She was very aware of vampires, magic and mages, this is a fact not because we know that she herself is a mage, we do not know that much, but because of Tooru. He attended the same high school/prep school that Misono does that has direct ties to C3 recruitment and we know he's been involved with Touma since his days there and they fought/killed vampires since then. Along with the Shirota family no doubt being a mage family, Akira was not at all oblivious to this.

I do not, however, think that her sleeping with Touma and creating Mahiru was any plot nudged by any Servamp or like. Why?

Because Lily had genuinely believed that Touma would come to Mahiru's aid in a life-or-death situation that would have otherwise killed him, and was rather shocked when Touma tried to kill him on his own. At least according to what he told Misono. (I believe most of what he's telling Misono except that he doesn't actually care about Misono. I think he's trying to made Misono mad at him beyond reconciliation for Reasons because he's a fucking coward who, if loved properly, won't be able to go through with his and Mikuni's plans)

Anyways, the reason I say Mahiru's entire world will fall apart instead of his views of his mother is because of one specific instance in the manga; Tooru thanking Mahiru for saving Touma. Not for saving Tsurugi like Mahiru probably thinks he was saying, Touma. Because Lily's plan included Touma dying because he was so close to figuring out how they were going to revive the Count.

If Touma HAD died, the good guys wouldn't know what would be happening. Tsubaki, Envy pair and Lily would have been completely clear to start the ritual while completely blindsiding everyone opposed ON TOP of starting the ritual a day early. They'd have been a lot less prepared than they are right now. Touma was a huge danger to the ritual's success.

Tooru knows this. He knows whats happening. Yes, he's also just relieved his childhood friend and coworker isn't dead thanks to his nephew but that isn't the only reason.

Why would Tooru leave Mahiru alone with Tsubaki in the restaurant they went to? Why would Tooru pretend Kuro was a burglar when he saw him chilling in the apartment and then so quickly drop the fact that there supposedly was a burglar in the house, all when we know he must have known who Kuro was the moment he saw him. Even if this was early manga and we did not yet know he was an elite of C3!

Mahiru's entire world is going to fall apart not only because he'll learn his mother is not the woman he thought she was, but because he'll learn he's been betrayed by his uncle in a way far greater than him leaving him alone and lonely for months at a time.

Tooru knows. And has made sure Mahiru didn't under the naive guise of protecting him.

[rikisakai]

THE SINGER'S BASSIST.

content bassist ! riki x vocalist ! oc, featuring guitarist ! jungwon and drummer ! sunghoon, he fell first and harder, it has always been you warnings profanity, assumed dirty implication sypnosis when the annoying bandmate that has always hated her suddenly starts to act strange around the vocalist of the band. wc 3.4k words

part one.

THE SINGER'S BASSIST.

"Sorry, I sang the wrong note. Let's try that part again," I say, biting my lip while I think about how dry my throat feels. Not only did I sing off pitch, but my voice nearly cracked.

"We've been having trouble crossing this part without problems, Zee. If we can't do it during the concert, how do you think we're going to manage?" The guitarist, Jungwon, says to me. He isn't trying to be mean, but it gets to me.

I take a deeper breath than intended. "Yes, I need to focus. I have no idea what's going on with me." Normally, there are no problems with my voice when I am singing this high.

"You need to practice and consider that the fans paid to watch us. Live up to their standards." Sunghoon, our drummer, is always the one who is able to make me improve.

The bassist to my side is awfully quiet. Perhaps he is bathing in the contentment he feels knowing I struggle. All I know is that he has been staring at me. The whole day—every day, actually. He always stares, likely waiting for me to mess up so he can laugh in secret.

Because he always laughs in secret, I know he does. Never to my face, like the coward he is, but always when I am not looking.

I do my best to not look at him at all, to give him none of my attention, none at all, but then I peek just one glance at him.

He's looking me right in my eyes, grinning evilly once I meet his, raising his eyebrows in challenge. What an asshole. How I despise him and his pretty face.

Ni-ki. The boy that hates me and, unfortunately, has a very, very pretty face. It makes it even harder to not look at him.

"Yeah, Zeve. Practice," he whispers wickedly, and those beautiful features of his turn into the devil's son's right in front of my eyes. Fucking bitch. He grabs for my wrist, but I swat it away, stepping away from him.

I remember times when I have barely known him, when I desired him and his touch, perhaps even loved it. Back when he didn't hate me for a reason I can't figure out to this day.

My nails dig into my fists, and I say nothing, knowing what he hates the most is when his words don't get to me—when I ignore them.

Once again, I take a deep breath. Then I start right over.

A DAY LATER, THURSDAY.

Being a university student and in a band at the same time turned out to be more stressful than I would have ever imagined. That is only due to the popularity we gained, though. We wouldn't push ourselves to this extent if there was no one who wanted to listen and cheer for us anyway.

Over the last year, ENHYPHEN has become huge. It all started with a song that I uploaded and that was only supposed to be out there for the fans, with no promotion, but went viral. People continued to listen until they found out we were an actual band.

And that's how it all started.

Now, we are having a concert that is happening in a few weeks, and I feel as though I am going to put on a disappointing performance.

If only I—

"My god, this girl is still asleep. Wake the hell up!"

I jolt in surprise, a frown on my face. I don't even need to guess who just interrupted my slumber. "I'm awake, asshole." Sending him my worst glare, I stretch my arms out, not helping my claim in any way.

"Thank fuck, I guess. You need to help me. Now." He way he says it makes it sound like an emergency. As if I would ever even help him. Especially if he just woke me up.

He stands and walks over to my side of the table, heavy with books borrowed from this library, grabbing my chin firmly and sitting down next to me. Lifting it up, he watches my eyes, appearing to forget what he was about to say, then remembering again. "You need to ... assist me with the work, yes?"

When I don't answer him, attempting to fully waken, his eyes go to my mouth, just for that one moment, then gone.

"Well, you certainly have a way to get people to do your stuff. Unfortunately for you, I can't help you with that." And then, I put my head down on the table again—or try, because my cheek meets his hand. How come I didn't realize how close he got? Either way, his hand is warm. My sleepy mind will not let me move, forgetting all about the guy I am trying to take a nap on.

"Zeve, I will force you if I have to. Don't make me. You hate it when I do."

I move my head, lips meeting his soft skin, sliding them across the back of his hand. Ni-ki moves as though a shudder has just gone through him. "Zeve."

Feeling his hand on my cheek, I give in and sit back in my chair. His ears are red, and I cannot tell if they were when he last made me look into his eyes. "What's with your ears?" I blurt out.

"What?" he nearly yells, getting up from his seat and bringing a hand to his left ear. Then, he grabs his beanie and pulls it over his head, covering the entirety of his ears.

I blink. "Okay," I whisper, confused.

"Anyway," he clears his throat, "let's get started now, shall we?" Ni-ki gains his composure and is looking at me exactly as he always does. Like he's challenging me. Messing with me. But just a moment ago, he seemed so flustered. And not just by anyone. By ... me.

A WEEK LATER, FRIDAY.

"We did well today, you guys. Sleep over, and tomorrow we'll practice harder than we did the past four hours. Let's give ourselves a break." Sunghoon is right, we should probably stop working without end. We deserve some time for just our band. To bond like people usually do, not through tirelessly practicing songs.

But Hoon's soundproof room in his house has been my favorite place ever since we started playing here. Before that, it had been my garage, and before that, Ni-ki's backyard, in which we could never be too loud because the neighbors would be complaining about the kids playing their music too loud.

When I turn, I notice half of my water bottle empty. I cannot remember drinking it all. How weird, I think. But then I steal a glance at the smirking boy beside me and feel like stabbing him.

"Don't drink my water, you disgusting shit! I don't want to have all your bacteria in my mouth!"

He raises his brow, looking at me funnily. "You're saying that, but secretly, you wish I put all of my bacteria down your—"

"Shut the hell up! Don't say that. Ever. Again. You little shit. Gross," I reply dramatically, a deep frown on my face. Ni-ki grins at me, his fingers going to my jaw, pouting as though he might actually be sad.

"Aww. Don't want me to kiss you? Scared you'll like it?" When he whispers that, one part of me wants to hit him, tell him that never, ever, would I let him. The other wants to surprise him, putting my lips on his, just so he'll have to live knowing he actually craves kissing me. Because I will make him crave it. And I will be in peace, knowing I do not feel the same.

"You wish," I only answer bitterly, knowing my ego is too big to kiss him first to begin with.

"Alright, you two, now that it's all solved, can we order food?" Jungwon asks, and for a second, I forgot me and Ni-ki were not alone.

He seems to have, too, turning his head in a surprised manner, showing me a perfect view of his side profile. Or, more so, of his ears—a glowing red.

"Please, I'm so fucking hungry," I hear Sunghoon say, grabbing his phone and mumbling about whether he wants pizza or sushi, but I drown it out.

Instead, I go to my room—which is not actually mine, officially, but is the one I always sleep in—and decide to change out of my tight clothes.

Roaming through the closet, I have a big, comfortable shirt in front of my eyes that I have never seen nor worn, with my black shorts that barely cover my thighs, but I often wear. I have never felt uncomfortable about revealing stuff to any of them, not even Ni-ki. They're like my family, like my brothers.

Well, except Ni-ki. Not him, the damn—

There! Shrieking with triumph, I grab out a white shirt, rather a jersey, and put it over my head in an instant. It's so soft, perfect to sleep in. I take a note to thank Sunghoon for having bought this (even if it was for him, not me) once I'm ready for Ni-ki to interrupt me when I do start talking.

With a smile, I trot into the living room, walking to the boys who are split on the couch and at the table. Ni-ki looks at me first. His eyes widen at the sight of me. What's wrong with him? I thought he didn't mind when my legs showed?

But his gaze is not on my legs. It is locked on my shirt. On the jersey.

Am I wearing the number of his least favorite soccer player or something? I turn to the mirror in the hall, perfectly visible from where I am standing, and realize.

10

Riki

Not his least favorite. Mine, rather.

Fuck.

"That's my jersey you're wearing, Zee." His voice surprises me. He isn't seeming to be messing with me. Right now, he seems rather shocked.

I ignore the fact that he just called me by my nickname, Zee, which he has almost never done before. Perhaps that is because we've always lacked the friendship aspect in our relationship, one way or another, but then I don't see why he is calling me that now.

"No shit." My hands to go my hips, thinking about what to do next. Neither Jungwon nor Sunghoon say anything, but I don't miss how they laugh when they catch each other looking at Ni-ki's face.

It's not hard to miss, considering how loud they are in unison.

"Uh, well, I'm gonna—"

"Keep it on. Don't stress over it. You can keep the shirt. I don't need it anyways," he says, the way he's looking at me so different from usually. Ni-ki sends them his worst glare, and I think I might be dreaming.

Now that I think about it, I have never seen him angry or annoyed. Ever. He isn't even in this moment, but it is the closest thing I will get to it. Which I am grateful for.

If I didn't know better, I'd think he wanted me to keep the shirt. His shirt. That if he needed it, he'd still give it to me.

Then it's good that I know he's not romantic. At all. Not in the least. Most of all, not with me. Why would he be? He hates me. He can't stand me. He never could.

He hates you, my mind tells me when I sit on the couch next to him. Don't forget that.

He hates you, I look to him, just once, actually smiling at his red cheeks. And you hate him too.

He hates you, even when he puts a hand on your thigh, caressing it like he might just like you.

My face heats up, and I think about how much I despise anyone having an effect on me. When the bell rings shortly later though, it is what saves me.

In my bed, my eyes are wide open. If I was asked why I am awake now, my mouth would hang open, searching for an answer in my head.

For a lie.

Why are you awake? I can't sleep.

Why are you awake? I don't know.

Why are you awake? I have no idea why I am.

Why are you awake? I am thinking about a boy.

"What boy?"

Jumping in my seat, I turn the chair to face the door. Ni-ki. He's here. Sitting on my bed. Meaning he has been here for at least 20 seconds. Which is about the timespan of all the answers I just gave.

His beautiful face is neutral, curious, but also knowing. Awaiting my answer, so patiently.

I will not give him the satisfaction of telling him that he has managed to get through to me, with ... absolutely nothing. He has done basically nothing, and I am already here, thinking about him as though I'm some sixteen year old girl.

This is all his fault. His flustered face and the thought of kissing him made me like this. The thought he put in my head to begin with.

"I ... I can't tell you."

Face stoic, he stands and walks toward me, determination engraved on his features. "Can't tell me?" he repeats, and weakly, I shake my head.

He kneels in front of me, never looking away from my face, making my heart swell and ache from how pretty he is. It feels good to acknowledge without fighting it. I cannot move from my bed. It feels as though he froze all my movements.

"Hmm. And what can't you tell me?" he asks again, but this time, he drives his hand under my blanket but over my clothes, on my stomach, then my waist, my thigh, driving his fingers across my body, featherlight touches all over my skin, making me feel dizzy.

"The answer to your question," I clench my teeth together.

"And why is that?" He explores my shoulders, my throat, my neck now, the sensation unbearable—I want to have my hands on him, too. Want to feel his body just like this.

"Because I don't want to admit how much I do like you."

The words hang in the air. The touch freezing, and I see a cautious thought behind his eyes. When those beautiful eyes meet mine, I've never wanted to kiss him more.

"Riki," I whisper, putting my hands on his shoulder and neck.

His eyes widen, just slightly. Similarly to how I have barely heard him call me Zee, I have never used the name Riki for him. In his presence. To him. Ever. I can't, for the life of me, remember how I went without calling him by his real name.

His hand covers my own on his shoulder, and when he leads me to sit on my bed next to him, I follow.

Putting both of his hands on my face, he searches my eyes for something. Wheels turn in my head as I ask myself what he could be looking for. My mind can't give me a single reason as to why this could possibly be unusual.

A big smile finds his lips when he looks down, at the shirt that belongs to him, on my body. "It suits you. You should wear my name more often."

"Why ..." I start, and hate myself for the whiny tone of my voice, "why are you like this so suddenly? You've never liked me." My statement makes the corners of his mouth curl up.

"Oh, my poor Zee. You have no idea how wrong you are." He lets go of me, but leans in so close that his nose touches mine, that his red cheeks nearly come in contact with my own.

"Do you even want to know for how long I've liked you? Would that be something you would be interested in hearing—you know, since you don't care about me at all," he mocks, eyebrows raised.

"How can you lie to me like this? And you would think it is the most obvious thing in the entire world that you have always only wanted to bring me down and to make fun of me and my mistakes and never even think to—"

Quite odd how fast things can change when you don't know what's happening.

Just one moment ago, I was angry at him, mad that he would use me like that, that he would so blandly tell those lies right into my face, and the next, his mouth presses hard against mine.

The breath is knocked out of my lungs. For a quick moment, I don't do anything but feel his lips move against mine, firm but soft. In the next, I have my hand on his chest and kiss him back.

He sighs, and I smile against his lips, feeling more satisfied every second and so, so different from just a few moments ago, when I was angry at him. Dizziness slowly clouds my mind. I've known him for years, yet I have never seen him kiss a girl, nor known if he's ever had a girlfriend, therefore it comes as a surprise that he can kiss the way he can.

Even if he would want me to, perhaps if it would even give him reassurance and would surely make him happy, I will never admit how much I like kissing him. But when you find out new things about yourself that you do enjoy doing, sometimes you wonder how you went that long without having done it, that certain thing.

He comes closer, puts one of my legs between his and the other to his right one, brushes a strand out of my face that touches his own, and I have no idea how he makes it feel like we have always been doing this.

Pulling away, he grins at me, looking to my eyes and then down to my lips, smiling wider when he meets my gaze again.

"I have liked you ever since we first met," he interrupts my train of thought, confessing his secret. Shocked beyond thought, I don't respond, I only stare at him, his red, swollen lips.

"If you knew how long I've spent thinking about this, what it would be like. So long to imagine all the different ways I could feel, and still, it can't compare."

My cheeks burn, his are also flushed, and I note how they feel warmer the longer I stroke my thumbs along them. What shocks me is that he actually lets me, that he doesn't protest at all and simply lets himself be touched, even enjoying it. How long have I shied away from his touch? How long have I let myself not enjoy it?

"Zee," he whispers, eyes heavy, and I give him a kiss to his jaw, feeling silly and oddly affectionate toward a guy I would have claimed to hate a few hours ago, before grabbing his hand and bringing him up with me, leading him to his room.

"What are you doing? Where are you bringing me?" he raises an eyebrow, looking at me as though I am somewhat unreasonable. My head can't find a reason as to why that could be, so I continue walking him through the corridors.

Along the way, we hear Sunghoon snoring. "Bringing you to your bed? You're tired, Riki. Hence, you need to sleep." I open his bedroom door, getting ready to leave, but he holds me by the waist.

Bringing his face close to mine, he attempts to get my full attention, and it works. Suddenly, I feel nervous. Riki looks so serious, seems so stern when he's sleepy.

"Why do you think I went to your room in the first place? What if I want to sleep with you?"

My eyes go the most wide they have ever been. "Excuse me?"

"Oh my God, I meant in your room, you moron. Ew. Who do you think I am?" His face contorts in disgust, though a playful smirk is playing on his pretty lips. "What a dirty girl."

I sigh, wanting to go back to my room when I hear his footsteps behind me, blabbering some more in his state of half-sleep. "And perhaps in your bed. I'm not a very great nap-on-the-floor-guy. Forgive me. But you're still dirty."

And I invite him into my room, then watch as he lets himself fall onto the sheets, unmoving as soon as his head hits the pillow.

During the night, in his endless moving and shuffling to find a good position, in a moment that in slumber, feels like a dream, he mumbles a name. "Zee."

my first post on here. this sucks, but i'll still write a second part.

© all rights reserved, rikisakai.

[rodolfoparras]

Stop making me cry damnit 😭 is this how other people feel when I amp up the angst?

Also I love you too and I love writing like this and sharing ideas with you. And everyone is so sweet with their compliments omg 🥺

That being said

*cracks knuckles*

Imagine your injury being far worse than anyone expected. It looked like just a simple bullet wound and John was fully expecting to see you wake up the next day and he was already imagining you grumbling to him and shyly asking him out to dinner while he fusses around you and helps you get better.

John is already imagining it all in his head, sharing a drink over fancy dinner, sharing a cigar and pulling you into a kiss and whispering I love you against your lips. But the daydream comes crashing down when he hears words that will haunt his nightmares until he dies.

"There were some complications Sir, the bullet pierced some of the more important organs and..." nurse sighs, unwilling to meet John's gaze because she hates to be the one to tell him. "We are not sure are we going to be able to save him."

And it's the first time in so long, maybe ever that John felt that amount of pain. Gut-wrenching, tearing him from the inside out because he remembered every interaction he ever had with you and...he was coward. Even when held you in his arms and when you insisted on telling him you loved him with what might've been your last fucking breaths...he still couldn't say it.

He stays by your side and doesn't let anyone move him from your room and he was never that religious but he prays to any deity that will listen just for one selfish opportunity to tell you that he loves you. Because you have to know! And when you do finally wake up (because I'm not that cruel and let's give it happy ending), his lips are on yours and he's telling you he loves you before you can even register what is happening. And he swears he will keep repeating it every.single.day. as long as he's alive.

(And he does and you never get tired of hearing it)

-🔮

There’s going to be a next time he says as he sits in the emergency room while you’re being operated.

There’s going to be a fancy dinner and he’s going to wear the suit that barley fits him anymore, even if the doctors had told him there were to be complications

There’s going to be an opportunity to say that he loves you, he thinks to himself as he watches you still asleep in the hospital bed, monitors connected to every bit of your body.

The sun is pleasantly warm as it shines down on your face, the drink you’d been nursing is cold in your hand. The only thing missing is-

“Clementine ?” Price says already knowing what you’re thinking. Your face lights up, shining as bright as the sun and you eagerly nod at his proposal.

It’s certainly not a dinner like you had promised but due to your injuries you were still recovering and sitting outside on the grass on a warm summer day and eating clementines is the best option for now.

Price can’t help but laugh as he hands you a piece. “It’s funny no?”

“What is?” You say biting down on the fruit, tasting the sweet and sour goodness.

“You hate the smell of clementines yet you love eating them” he says before giving you another piece which you take gracefully.

“They’re good as long as I don’t have to peel them” you say with a playful glint in your eyes.

Price scoffs as if offended but you can still see the smile on his face as he hands you another piece. “What am I then? You personal Clementine peeler?”

“Yes yes you are” you say, a laugh escaping your lips but quickly disappearing as you see the mischievous look on him.

Before you know it he’s burying his face in your neck, the smell of clementines engulfing your sense and his sticky fingers brushing upon your skin.

“No go away you stink” you say through fits of laughter but Price doesn’t care, continues to nuzzle his face in your neck while lightly dragging his finger alongside of your ribs to not agitate your injuries.

“Okay okay you win! You’re not just a Clementine peeler is that what you wanted to hear?”

Price halts his actions, eyes peering up at you with a playful smile on his face.

“You know what I want to hear” price says, and as he says the words you feel heat creep up your neck ears and cheeks but nonetheless you say the words he’d been longing to hear.

“I love you jo-“ you don’t get to say anymore than that before he’s slotting your lips together. You can now taste the fruit juice on his lips can even get a whiff of the cigar he’d been smoking as you lose yourself in the kiss.

But it doesn’t last long before he pulls away.

“I love you too” he says with a flush on his face “so much”

Spitball w/ me?

[blazingstar400]

Incorrect Scarlet and Violet Quotes Part 1

I have too many of these sitting in a document and I’m bored so here we are. I hope these brighten your day!

Ortega, playing a video game: This game is so frustrating! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!

Penny: Ok, I think it’s time we turn off the game for a little while…

Ortega: But I’m having fun!

Nemona: I can do anything I put my mind to! I once figured out Arven’s phone number just by choosing random numbers!

Juliana: Amazing! Florian, your just like Sherlock Homeless!

Florian: It’s HOLMES!

Kieran: My crush isn’t picking up on my hints.

Carmine: What kind of hints have you given her?

Kieran: Well, I think about her a lot.

Kieran: Sometimes I even think about talking to her.

Lacey, annoyed: He probably cares more about his grades, unlike you.

Drayton: Hey!! I got a 47 on my test! I’m like a super genius!!

when a new class was added in Naranja/Uva Academy

Teacher: Welcome to salsa class! Who’s ready to dance?

Juliana, hiding a bag of tortilla chips behind her back: There’s been a misunderstanding.

Penny: This’ll probably go faster if we split up.

Nemona: nods

Nemona: Can I come with you?

Penny: Okay, where did I lose you on the whole ‘splitting up’ thing?

Juliana: I can’t find my Rotom phone.

Arven: Hold on, I’ll call it.

Juliana: No wait——

Juliana’s Rotom phone: 🎶 PARTY ROCK IS IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT! EVERYBODY’S GONNA HAVE A GOOD TIME! 🎶

Arven:

Juliana: I can explain——

Kieran, trying to write a letter to Juliana: Greetings, Coward——

Lacey: sighs No.

Kieran: My dear idiot——

Lacey: Try again.

Kieran: DEAREST JERK WHO RUINED MY LIFE——

Lacey: THIS ISN’T HOW YOU WRITE A LOVE LETTER!!!

Drayton: randomly hugs Kieran

Kieran: What the heck are you doing?!?

Drayton: Appreciating the little things in life!

Kieran:

Kieran: Die

Florian: How do you spell perfection?

Carmine: C-A-R-M-I-N-E

Florian: Okay, tha——

Florian:

Florian: Hold on, isn’t that your name?

Carmine: Exactly.

Carmine: We did it. It’s over, we won.

[Juliana, Kieran, Nemona, Penny, Arven, and Florian point behind her, obviously distressed]

Carmine: No, we won. I’m not turning around. We won.

Lacey: How much do you know about Ancient Egypt?

Drayton: Lots! Pyramids, pharaohs…

Lacey: Yes, go on.

Drayton: …Didn’t they invent dogs or something?

Kieran: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed off the souls of the living. I strike fear into——

Carmine: You sleep with a teddybear.

Kieran: HE IS MY SECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

Juliana, jokingly: You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.

Kieran, seriously: Won’t be a problem.

literally the next day

Kieran: THERE’S A PROBLEM!

Penny: I called you like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up?

Juliana: remembers dancing to the ringtone

Juliana: I didn’t hear it.

Little Kieran after having a nightmare: Can I sleep in your bed?

Carmine, half asleep: Kiki, this is a queen-sized bed. That means it’s for gestures vaguely to herself the Queen.

I hope you all enjoyed these! I might make more later. Have a nice day everyone!

[animeloverskylarmoon]

Mayuri Kurotsuchi (Bleach) - Chapter 1

“Is that her?”

“Shh, not so loudly, she might hear you.”

You really wish you could banish what you feel. But you suppose you prefer them viewing you as a coward rather than a monster.

The sight of a few of the captains walking brings an unsettling feeling and even worse memories.

“(Y/N)!!!!”

Rukia’s call echoed, her body trembling. She could see the blood.

So much.

The sword protruding from your chest should have you crippled, but you were still standing. Rukia was paralyzed as you stood over the hollow. Byakuya watched. His sword had been drawn for battle, but you were standing before what seemed like the last hollow, remorse not present on your face.

“W-Wait you heartless reaper w-wa-”

You rammed your hand through its mask, its body disintegrating shortly after.

This particular mission had taken a turn for the worse. It became apparent that these hollows were too much when one of them had managed to get a hold of your blade. The very sword that is now impaled in your chest. The second the captains were alerted of the chaos, they’d rushed over immediately.

If they expected anything, it wasn’t a reaper taking out hollows with their bare hands.

Toshiro was in a similar state of shock.

There were multiple indents in the ground and they could only assume you had something to do with it. Rukia’s body was beaten, and yours seemed much worse, yet you were still standing.

You finally turned in their direction and Toshiro had to admit he didn’t like the dead look in your eyes.

“We need to be careful, she could be dangerous.”

That’s the word he used that day.

“Dangerous..”

Any other reaper would have been praised for taking down six hollows single handedly. That was something the eleventh squad members loved to boast about, but you’d practically begged the head captain to keep it all a secret. Every reaper below the title of captain was unaware of your situation.

Rukia was the only one who knew because she’d seen it first hand.

You wish that you could rid it, the terrified look she wore. When you finally gained consciousness, you woke up in squad four and you were circled by captains. All of which were looking at you as if you would strike at any moment.

You hated it, and you knew it wasn’t intentional. But you couldn’t help but feel like the enemy.

Like something that should be eradicated.

You kept your eyes forward as you stepped into twelfth division, you were greeted by Nemu and of course that crazy scientist.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite experiment."

He twiddled his fingers in that creepy way, smiling in a way that always had an unpleasant chill rushing up your spine.

“Please don’t do anything weird Kurotsuchi-taicho.”

Yesterday he’d literally made markers on your body when you fell asleep. You had to check just to make sure he hadn’t stolen an organ while you were just trying to catch a nap.

“I am only conducting the necessary experiments to fully study your healing. Nemu, bring me the syringe.”

“Hai, Mayuri-sama.”

She picks up the item from the table, walking over as she hands it to him.

“Sorry for the discomfort.” Nemu says beforehand.

The needle is quite long. You just give her a smile.

“Compared to the crazy stuff he’s already stuck inside me, I think the needle is the least of my problems.”

You hold out your arm, and Mayuri takes your wrist, injecting you with who knows what. His eyes are firmly planted on your form. More specifically, your lack of reaction. He casts a look in Nemu’s direction, and she nods soundlessly. You raise a brow with a tilt of your head.

Mayuri retracts the needle, dropping it into a nearby bin.

“Interesting.”

He reaches for a small clipboard, taking notes. When he’s done, he rips the sheet off, handing it to Nemu.

“Please send this to Akon.”

“Yes, Mayuri-sama.” She takes it, walking away. When the door shuts behind her you sit there waiting.

“Are we done?”

“For now. Return tomorrow.”

You nod, standing as you stretch your arm experimentally. The needle has left some residual blood, and you stare at it.

“We cannot take a chance of sending her on missions until this situation is dealt with. We have no way of telling who she sees as an ally or enemy in that state.” Toshiro argued.

All you could do is stand there as the captains decided whether or not you were fit to do your job.

“I can run the necessary tests to ensure that we have no reason to eliminate her.”

The choice of words made your eyes widened and Jushiro stepped forward, clearly displeased.

“She is not something to be removed!”

“Regardless of your personal views, we are unaware of what she’s capable of. I can help. Let me test her.”

Looks were exchanged around the room. No one really trusted Mayuri not to carry out crazy experiments, but the uncertainty seemed just as unnerving to them.

“Very well, starting today you will be in Mayuri Kurotsuchi’s care.”

You just bowed your head.

“Yes, I understand.”

It was painful watching them decide your faith like that.

You had no say in anything. In a way, you’re grateful to Mayuri. Not just for his input, but possibly his indifference. You chuckle, and he turns at the sound.

“Is something funny?”

He sounds a bit annoyed, probably because you haven’t left yet.

“It’s nothing really, it’s just that you’re probably the only one who doesn’t look at me like a monster.”

You smile, but there is nothing humorous about it.

Mayuri just watches you.

“You’re quite stupid.”

“H-Hey!!”

He waves his hand casually.

“Why would I look at such a precious specimen like a monster? Your entire makeup is exquisite. You can’t expect a simple minded being to understand the extent of your power. Fear of the unknown is for foolish beings who lack the understanding of how the world works. Do not insult my intelligence.”

You can’t really say much because that’s probably the nicest thing that this mad scientist has ever said to you.

Looking down, you can’t help but flush. Him of all people shouldn’t be the one giving you a pep talk. This guy is pretty much a maniac.

Maybe that’s the lesson.

Monster, mad scientist..maniac.

Maybe the problem is the labels that are used to perceive things that are different.

Despite yourself, you smile, shaking your head.

“Arigatou, Kurotsuchi-taicho.”

He looks over at you, and the smile that you wear just makes him click his tongue.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. “

You still smile.

“Hai!”

There might be more to your abilities than what you initially thought. 

[short-black-diamond]

"Tone it down, Tonny...!"

This is going to be an Anthon/Tonny x fem!reader and they are makint out. Suggestive, sweet, and funny.

taglist: @littlegremlinflower, @ajsihc

@chewbrry I'm so sorry for only remembering to tag you now, I am so sorry love!!!

---

"...and maybe we could make a few adjustments here, don't you think, ____?", Anthon asked. However, he was met with nothing but another long yawn.

"Tonny, why don't we take a rest? It's already past three. And we need to get ready at 7. Let's call it a night.", you spoke tiredly as you stroked his soft cheek. The male blushed as he leaned into your touch with a shy grin.

"Alright. let me make the bed for you.", he said and stood up. You smiled, but your eyes forced themselves shut. Another yawn made itself known too, but you didn't see your lover come at you with different intentions, and so, while you were yawning, Anthon kissed you while darting his tongue out.

You had to push him away while sputtering and chuckling. "Wha--what was that??"

He gave you a hurt expression. "I-I just wanted to kiss you...!"

"I was yawning, Tonny."

"Oh. So...no more kisses today?"

"...c'mere."

(When I tell you that man plopped down next to you so fast-)

And he had the biggest grin as he sat down in front of you. You had to take a moment not to laugh at his cute antics again, so instead, you squished his cheeks so that his lips would be puckered.

Of course, Tonny didn't like this, so he started to gently pull your hands away from his face, but to no avail. "S'op tha', phease...!"

"Okay, okay I'll kiss you then...", you shushed and brought your lips to his. Immediately, you were addicted to them. Was it the lingering taste of the cherries he ate a few minutes ago? Or the way his nice cologne filled your nose? Or maybe his soft, luscious hair?

or was it the fact that you were kissing the missing daylights out of your man? Guess we'll never know.

Tonny grabbed at you as well. He laid one of his gloved hands on your waist to pull you on his lap, and the other one to your neck in an almost possesive like-manner. But you were kind of turned on from that.

All that you guys could hear was the smacking of lips, the slight panting, your fast heartbeats...the way everything seemed so loud was also a little nerve-wracking. But it was the bonfire now, and everyone was out, so you two could have a little fun to yourselves.

And it was fun to see Tonny try to tone down his moans as you made out with him. "Ah-..._-____, w-wai -mmmh- wait please!", he managed just before you could give him another sloppy kiss.

"What is it? Wanna stop?", you asked as you were about to stand up from your seat on his lap. He just pulled you down again, panting. "Please jus-just give me a moment...we uh, went a little rough, don't'cha think?", he whispered with a breathy chuckle.

from the way his disshelved hair was making you want him more, his quick breaths begging for a pause or his swollen lips were looking, you'd like to just kiss him more. But you knew that you were not looking any better, when we count that he was about to make short process with your blouse, or how you had literal hickeys on your neck and clavicle as well.

"Yeah...we did.", you affirmed and right after that, you giggled. After a few moments of you playing with his hair, and Tonny calming down, you were about to kiss again when you heard footsteps. They halted in front of Tonny's door. "Uh, Anthon? Do we still have that ukolele you purchased last week? If yes, where is it?"

'Good thing the lights are out in this room, maybe the person will think that I'm asleep and leave-', Anthon thought, but his mind turned to mush when you kissed him again.

"Not wanting to answer, hm? *kiss* c'mere you coward...!", you muttered as your tongues danced against each other. A slight wimper escaped him, and you chuckled as quietly as possible.

"Tone it down, Tonny...you wouldn't want to have an audience for this spectacle now, would you?"

Luckily for the both of you, the footsteps dissappeared. "Think you can sleep now?", he mumbled against your lips.

"No way in hell can I sleep now, I'm still not full of your love. You?"

"Nuh uh!"

And Tonny felt himself get harder now than he ever did when you removed your blouse. you didn't have a bra underneath.

Tonny blushed and grinned at you shyly. You smirked.

---

AAAAAaaaaannnnnd we'll stop here! Thank you for reading this far! it was fun, it was nice, and read you in the next post!

[enochoconnor-girlie]

As requested, a small Enorace microfic.

it’s not the best, and I rushed a little, but it’s not absolutely awful. hope you like it!

Every now and again my body shivers so violently that my head raps against the cold wood floor that’s still damp from tears that rolled down my cheeks. I hate this. My throat raw from the screams and sobs. The shivers; the ringing in my ears from all the noise, like I’m still in the nightmare with yells of pain and bombs and destruction along with all the death. 

I hate this ‘power’, it doesn’t make me feel powerful, it makes me weak, wanting to just leave, leave the mind games with the hurt and pain. I can’t do this anymore. The thoughts just make me sob harder onto the floor. I glance at my bed sheets strewn over my abandoned bed that’s warmth has long since gone away after I fell out of it minutes before. I tuck my head back into myself looking like a cat crumpled in a ball. 

The steps from outside my door make me freeze, the sounds of steps pause, hopefully they walked past my room. The door creaks open. Nope, I don’t want to do this again, the awkward back pats and unsure ‘you’re okay’s with half-hearted hugs. I don’t like the pity comfort from the others. 

“Another one, huh?” Enoch’s voice makes me lift my head up, he tilts his own at the sight of my most likely red eyes and wet cheeks. He lifts an eyebrow before walking over and grabbing my glass of water. I slowly sit up and lean against my bed when he crouches down to my level. 

“Breath, in and out. In 123 out 123.” He instructs like it was scripted. I do it for a minute before he hands the water over and I down it in three gulps. Enoch gently takes the glass and sets it to the side. We sit there, side by side, for a few seconds until I lay my head in his shoulder giving him the green light. 

As he shifts towards me and wraps his arms around my shaking body I collapse into him. “I can’t do this anymore,” I whisper into his chest. 

“I know, but you’re going to have to. You’ll be okay, it’s just one of those weeks,” I know Enoch’s right. 

“But those weeks get more frequent and more intense and I just… can’t. I really am a coward.” I almost start sobbing again. 

“No. Stop right now, okay? I’m done with that coward nonsense.” He actually sounded mad, that surprised me a bit. “Everyone who said it, they couldn’t handle half of what you can. You are so strong and anyone who says otherwise isn’t worth your time or energy or thought or mind.” 

I shouldn’t say this, but I do, “you called me a coward,” it’s barely able to hear with my face buried into him, but the quiet room doesn’t do me any favors. Enoch heard it. “Before, you know?” I hope it would soften the blow. Enoch is still frozen. 

“Bird. I did.” He breaths it out. “I am so sorry, you didn’t deserve that, never, ever. I… just…” he might cry. I don’t want my boyfriend to cry. 

“It’s okay, you’re making up for it right now,” I snuggle in deeper. It’s so warm, it’s so nice. It’s safe right where I am. My conscience slowly blinks out as I hear and feel Enoch humming a lullaby as he strokes my hair and cuddles me close. The last thing I remember is sitting on the cold floor.

But when I wake up, I’m snuggled in the warm sheets in my soft bed with Enoch laying right there next to me. Huh, no nightmares that time. Miss p might be mad that we slept in the same bed when she comes and checks on us, but I don’t care. 

I’m safe. 

All the nightmares could try to keep me awake and sobbing, but I can do it. I’ve done it before. And the love of my life is right there. Yes I know I’m physically 13, but this stupid boy is the love of my life. Maybe we could get out of the loop, grow up, live together in a nice house, get married, start a family and be happy. I dream about it as soon as I fall back asleep. 

And I do dream the future, right?

[sugarcryztal]

Hi I'm Kurumi and I would like to request a honkai star rail romantic matchup with a male character please <3.

My pronouns are she/her and I'm straight.

I'm a Virgo, INTJ.I’m mostly introverted, closed off but I'm more cheerful and playful with the people I'm close to. I can be very cuddly with my partner but I need a lot of alone time too, I'm a very independent person. I’m very honest even blunt at times, also I tend to be a rational person. I’m extremely determined and ambitious but very stubborn. I’m observant and I try mybest to be attentive to those close to me, I’m a good listener. I can infodump at times and get over focused on subjects I like. Also, I am very insomniac and I can overthink a lot.

I like fruits, cats, ducks, tarot readings, quiet places, fancy dates nights and listening to music. I love fashion and walking in wild/natural places especially mountains. I also enjoy swimming and lakes a lot. I love learning new languages too.

I dislike small talks, crowded places, meat(I'm a vegetarian), rude people and cowards.

Hobbies : My hobbies are reading, playing video games (I don't like a specific genre, I like everything. I mainly play HSR and Genshin Impact frequently , but these days I'm playing Near Automata and Eden Ring). I like reading manga,watching anime and I also enjoy crocheting.

Thank you for reading and for the matchup ! Have a good day :)

sorry for taking so long! i will be honest i was taking a break and forgot abt this 😭 im so sorry

Your HSR match is. . .

JING YUAN !

⟡ okay okay. introvert x introvert!

⟡ I’m not apologizing for imagining Jing Yuan as an introvert because I firmly believe when he wanted to recharge his energy he cuddles with you in a quiet place.

⟡ When he was pining for you he was PINING!

⟡ He went as far as to clear his schedules on short notice if you asked for his time. What important meeting? He has no idea what Fu Xuan is talking about!

⟡ Due to your closed off nature, he was naturally inclined to be curious about you. Leading to him quietly and slowly approaching you.

⟡ He was… Annoying at first! But after getting to know him more and figuring out he’s actually a nice guy behind his noble title, you softened a little.

⟡ He was overjoyed when this change happened!

⟡ When he asked you out he did not sugar coat it. Since you were so honest with him he might as well be honest with you!

⟡ He probably conjured up a letter written with his finest hand writing asking you to meet somewhere and then he just straight up said he liked you.

⟡ Maybe you were a little annoyed because it wasn’t how you pictured that would’ve happened, but your gaze turned tender when he took your hands into his warm ones. He softly kissed the back of your hand while quietly asking you to do him the honor of letting him date you.

⟡ You said yes!

⟡ When you guys are dating, he’s very cuddly. He very much likes contact with you and sometimes may even use you as a pillow while he dozes off!

⟡ Tries to get you to stay around him as much as possible, though of course he also understands you are an independent person with your own things to do.

⟡ If you end up sleeping over at his house. Don’t be surprised if you end up cuddling with him in his bed. If you’re uncomfortable he understands, but he just loves how warm you are!

⟡ Once you’re in his grip. He will not let you get up. In the morning when you try to get up, he tightens his arms around your waist while softly mumbling into your hair, “Five more minutes.”

⟡ (It was not five minutes)

⟡ Whispers soft reassurances and affirmations in your ear until you fall asleep while he spoons you in his arms.

⟡ He honestly doesn’t talk a whole lot, but if you ask him questions about certain things he becomes rather chatty!

⟡ Stuff like the Luofu’s past, his past, or just any questions you have in general! Will maybe even purposefully start silly debates.

⟡ He’s a very nostalgic person though, he likes to talk about things of the past even though he has moved on from it. It just brings back fond memories for him!

⟡ He’s more of the type to listen to you talk though. He especially like it when you talk while you guys are watching something together or when he’s working. It’s like listening to a podcast except it’s your beautiful voice he gets to hear!

⟡ Sometimes when you guys are on a picnic or just simply laying in bed together, he plays soft music for you both to fall asleep to. He finds it relaxing.

⟡ Takes you out on dates a lot when he has the time. Sometimes he can get a bit busy because he’s still the general, but of course he will always find time for you. He’d rather spend time with you than reading documents anyway.

⟡ For dates he’ll probably take you out to eat a lot. He loves exploring different things with you including food!

⟡ He also goes on a lot of walks with you, he likes holding your hand while walking through his garden.

Jing Yuan being the ever-so-darling boyfriend he is, texted you to invite you to his office. At first you refused, encouraging him to actually get his work done instead of dozing off, but after him begging so sweetly to hang out with him because he missed you: you ended up giving in.

Which is what led you to now, your boyfriend holding your hand as you guys walked through the gardens next to his office. You knew Fu Xuan would be mad later because he was off task, but the way he softly took your hand and kissed the back of your palm upon you first arriving made you melt. You were spaced out, thinking about the consequences of both yours and his actions, until a voice called to you,

“Love? You should stop worrying so much… It’s not like it’s any fun.” Jing Yuan mused softly. He gestured to a bench near a small pond under a tree. “Care for a break from walking?”

You briefly nodded. You both settled down on the bench, looking down at the tranquil water that reflected your faces. It was peaceful for a moment. You thought of the times you both did this before, but when you guys were just friends. You were about to speak up about it until he gently grabbed your hand off the bench, bringing it up to his lips.

“You truly are divine, love.” Jing Yuan mumbled with affection dripping from his voice. He pressed kisses from the back of your palm and up your arm, pressing one last kiss to your jawline before he broke away. He gently caressed your face before guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. He leaned his head against yours and you both ended up falling asleep. Just five minutes.

09.06.2024

[bropunzeling]

i would like to know how alpha leon's interactions with the rat fam go after he's forced his way into matthew's room and they realize why he did that 🥰

It's 9 AM in Florida, and Leon doesn't know what he's doing.

Or—

Here is what happened:

Leon woke up at 8 AM to a missed call, one he half-remembered dismissing in his sleep. It wasn't the first time someone has called him from the wrong time zone, but the first time that it was Matthew. There was a voicemail. He listened to the voicemail. Then he listened to it again. A third time. The fourth time he heard Matthew say I want you all the fucking time in a tired, cracked voice, he stopped listening and started pulling up flights on his phone. He bought plane tickets at an extortionate price. He took the three flights that would get him to Florida fastest—Köln to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to New York, New York to Fort Lauderdale. He made it to baggage claim before realizing he didn't actually know where Matthew's house was. He texted Matthew. After fifteen minutes with no response, he found Brady Tkachuk's Twitter and Instagram and sent messages in both places while crossing his fingers. After giving more of an explanation than he wanted, but less than he expected, he got an address to put into Uber.

By the time the car pulled up in front of Matthew's place, all he could think about was the clip he'd watched ten times of Matthew stumbling around the ice; about how it'd been six months since he'd had Matthew's skin under his hands; about how Matthew said he wanted him. How maybe this time Matthew would mean it.

Leon really, really hoped he meant it.

He wasn't thinking about Matthew's parents, staring at him with obvious bewilderment as he tried to come up with a reason for being there that wasn't being in love with their eldest son. Or Matthew's sister, poking her head around a corner and watching him with a suspicious expression that was bizarrely scary in the way that only teenage girls could be. Or even Brady, pulling him into a quick hug and muttering in his ear, "It's fine. I got this. Go upstairs. First door on the left."

Then he managed to make it upstairs, and his entire world narrowed to Matthew, too skinny and too pale and fast asleep and everything, everything. It had hit him like a fist to the chest, how fucking important it was to be here. To know that Matthew would be okay. To touch the thin skin of his wrist. To breathe in his scent until it was all Leon knew.

Now, it's morning again. Matthew fell back asleep after they talked, drifting off halfway through a sentence. His head is resting against Leon's; when Leon closes his eyes, he can hear the whistle of his breathing, almost but not quite a snore. If Leon could, he'd never get up.

However, Leon really needs to take a piss. And shower. And drink half a gallon of coffee.

And say something to everybody else that's in the house, who are almost certainly wondering what the hell he's doing here.

Leon's no coward. Still, he takes his time pulling himself out of bed, lingering when Matthew murmurs and pulls on his arm. Takes his time in the master bath, too, cleaning the plane off of him and assessing himself in the mirror. At least his hair isn't greasy, but the bags under his eyes and lingering skinniness still don't add up to the kind of impression he'd like to give to the parents of someone he wanted to court.

Especially not when those parents include an NHL legend.

In a stroke of luck, said legend is not in the kitchen when Leon finally makes it downstairs. The only person there is Matthew’s mother, sitting at the kitchen island, sipping a cup of coffee as she looks at her phone. As soon as Leon crosses the threshold, she glances up and smiles. It’s mostly friendly. Mostly.

“You must be Leon,” she says, setting down her phone. “Would you like some coffee?”

Leon blinks, startled. “Um—yes,” he says. Adds, quickly, “Thank you, Mrs. Tkachuk.”

Matthew’s mom stands up and walks over to a cabinet by the coffee maker. “Please. Call me Chantal,” she adds as she grabs another coffee cup. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Ah—no,” Leon says, watching her pour and accepting the cup with numb fingers. "Thank you."

They both sit down, leaving a few barstools between them. Leon takes a sip of coffee. It’s too acidic. He sets it down, breathes in the fumes. Catches a whiff of Matthew—it is his house, after all—but what's stronger is the scent of lilacs, coming from only a few meters away.

Leon turns his head. Chantal has her chin propped on her hand, a focused, serious expression on her face as she looks Leon over. Leon can't help feeling he’s being tested for something, and he’s not sure he's going to pass.

"So," Chantal says. "How long have you known Matthew?"

Technically, Leon has known Matthew—known of him—for years. Hard not to notice the new omega on the Flames, early draft pick and unusually high for his dynamic—North Americans are so weird about that shit—grinning with all his teeth bared, watching Leon like it was only a matter of time before he'd find a way to tick Leon off. Unafraid to throw his weight around, unafraid to be flashy, unafraid to get in Leon's face and push, push, push until all Leon wanted to do was push back. So fucking annoying, so fucking irritating, but—it was good, too. At least Matthew would push.

And then in St. Louis, Leon had walked back into the room and sucked in a breath and his world got tilted on its axis.

That's probably not the answer Matthew's mom would want. So Leon says, "A few years," and hopes he sounds truthful enough.

"Mmm." Chantal's scent twists, becoming more intense. The lilacs are rotting.

Leon can't even remember the last time he felt this nervous. First game in the show, maybe. He can't shake the feeling that he's fucking something up, and he doesn’t—he can’t fuck this up. Not when he finally has it.

"I'm going to court him," Leon blurts out. "Or, I mean—I asked him, if he wanted to, and he said he, um." His ears are burning.

Chantal's eyebrows lift. The rot dissipates. "Oh," she says.

Leon swallows, hard. Fuck, maybe he shouldn't have said that, either. "Please don't tell him that I told you," he adds.

Chantal laughs. It startles Leon, making him jump in his seat, but it’s not unkind, or cruel. When she smiles at Leon, Leon can see the similarities between her and Matthew. The same wrinkles at the corners of their eyes, the same tilt to their mouths.

"Don't worry," Chantal says. "It can be our secret." She takes a sip of coffee, then says, "You must be starving after your flights. Let's get you some breakfast."

Leon nods, unable to get any more words out.

After he’s eaten, Chantal refills his coffee and sends him back upstairs. Now that he’s more awake, Leon can pick out the other scents in the house—Chantal; a mild malty scent he remembers from drinks at last All-Star Game; another that might be Matthew’s sister, curled up on the sectional looking at her phone. At some point, he really is going to have to talk to Matthew’s dad; more to the point, Matthew’s dad is going to know exactly who Leon wants to be for his son. He can't say he's looking forward to it.

But when he gets upstairs, Matthew’s still there, fast asleep. His mouth is half open, hair sweaty and stuck to his skull. When Leon eases onto the bed next to him, he murmurs, rolling closer, then wincing and rolling away.

"Hey, hey," Leon says softly, reaching out and grabbing Matthew’s hand, rubbing his thumb over Matthew’s knuckles.

Matthew’s face eases. He sighs. Scent uncurls between them, sticky and gentle and warm.

Leon leans over, kisses Matthew's hairline. The way he’s allowed to, now. He'd sit through a hundred awkward conversations with Matthew's family if it means he'll get to do that today, tomorrow. As long as he can.

[prayers-to-hyliarceus]

Right, so. While I’m waiting for the other two to gather their bearings, I’ll make an introduction for us. This is gonna take a while because I am real fuckin slow at pressing the buttons on here. We’re the Crest System— or the Crest of Three if you wanna get fancy with it. Yes, I came up with this name because Zelda’s a coward and didn’t wanna sound badass.

Like I said before, my name’s Sky. I came about from the Draconification to store Zelda’s memories and consciousness away so she wasn’t miserable for like forty thousand years, so now that the body is human again, I’m just here as a headmate. So I’m technically a dragon. I am also the only one in this system with any damn self-respect.

Zelda is the original and fronts the most, and like. Honestly, I let her because human functions are weird as shit and she’s way more used to it than I am. Uhhh according to multiverse shenanigans, she’s apparently also as emotionally fucked up as the singlet Zelda and has experienced more or less the same things/trauma? Bad father and Calamity and Imprisoning War and shit. Which checks out.

Lastly is Princess, who split off from Zelda just after the Calamity began, but she was metaphorically drugged and stayed asleep until I woke her up quite recently. Don’t ask me how Zelda was stubborn enough to do that. Princess… has issues. Well, that goes without saying. She prevents Zelda from feeling the full brunt of the Calamity’s effects on her mental health, which is kinda what I do, though she’s also really really depressed. She gets gaps in her memory and is also a nervous wreck since her own mental state is perpetually stuck in the period between Hyrule collapsing from Ganon and actually awakening the sealing power, so… be patient if she decides to front. She doesn’t all that often.

I think that’s all? I’m gonna have to get those two to face their problems here eventually…

[morgana-artt]

Uncle!Venigni / Child!Reader: Found Family.

Note: had this one cooking up in the drafts, its a bit short and rushed but I had to get it down because uncle Venigni ftw

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

A child who got caught up in the tragic tale of Krat, this small defenseless child just making their way through the dangers that awaited them within the streets. Hiding, running, getting teary eyed as all they wanted to do is be back home with their family who unfortunately passed away from the disease. They were alone, they are alone... at least, it seemed like it to them until one day they manage to hide away inside a factory.

This terrified the poor child, it was already bad enough out there but to be inside a place the scary puppets are actually made from? The child just wanted to be back home. However, being small has its advantages and they manage to sneak in as they heard a man speak, they were told to go to a trusted adult, right? And this one sounded human!

Once reaching inside the main part of the factory, the child sees a very...over the top looking man. He did have a nice mustache though. They carefully approached man, the man just noticing them and blinked before adjusting his glasses, "my word...a child?! What could a child be doing here?!" The man asked himself as he kneeled down to the child. "Hello, young one! What's your name?" The child slowly approaches, still cautious "m-my names (Y/N)...", the man gave a nod, "well (Y/N), I am Venigni! The brilliant mind behind all...uhm...this" he said, his voice faltering as this clearly wasn't his best work. "Ah...its a bit of a complicated time, young one..." The child blinked at him, "oh...why are you here?" They asked, tilting their head and before the older gent could answer, foots steps were approaching causing the child to gasp and grab onto the red sleeve of the mans coat. Venigni stood up, now most of the time he would be petrified- which he was- but as he now had a child next to him it wasn't the time to be a coward until he saw who it was. Geppettos puppet. "Oh friend! Its so good to see you! H-how did it go?" the young man nodded, "a-and Pulcinella?" The other man shook his head in silence. "Ah...I see. Well, I suppose now that the horror is over, so to speak...I shall head towards Hotel Krat!"

The black haired man in front of you noticed you hiding behind Venignis leg and tilted his head, Venigni followed his gaze "ah! Right...this little one just arrived-" he knelt down to you, "this is nice person, young one. He's the one who has been helping me out with my little problem! How about we go with him to a very nice and safe place?" The child stared at him and then to the younger man before nodded. Upon seeing your cuts and bruises Venigni took pity and decided to carry you, you held onto his shoulders he reminded you of your father a bit which brought some comfort to you as you made your way out of the burnt building.

It wasn't long before you settled yourself in the hotel and meet everyone, you would find yourself following the person named P, the one who saved you and Venigni around the gardens in silence. He creeped you out at first especially when you found out he was a puppet with an unnerving stare... but soon grew to enjoying his company and would sit and read fairytail books, you never had siblings but you like to think of P as one. He was kind to you and he read you stories so what was there not to love?

But you'd mostly stayed with Venigni, you liked when he dabbled on about things you didn't understand cause whenever he did you'd fall asleep in his arms. Despite not having family, Venigni took a liking to you too as he held you in his arms and showed you the model behind him as he talked. He never had children but whenever you came up to him and called him 'Uncle' he felt a sense of joy and pride. Yes, the great Venigni had taken you in as his kin.

He manage to bring his butler back to life, Pulcinella and you had learned quite a few things from the puppet. Whenever Venigni was gone (doing god knows whatever) you'd have Pulcinella to talk to.

You missed your old family but having your Uncle here now with you had brought you comfort, you may not be blood related but you now have someone to call family.

[allthesmutl0vers]

Managing Mischief: Weasley Twins x F! Reader (Part Three)

MDNI, 18+.

TW: Sexual references, tension, flirting

Chapter Three

Y/n

George

I take one more look at y/n, fast asleep in my bed, my bed. I know I shouldn’t be as excited about that as I am, and I know I should feel guilty that she’s finally in my bed and not Draco’s, but I don’t. He didn’t deserve her. Not back then, not now, not ever. She’s ours. She’s been ours since we first met, only it didn’t get through our heads until fourth year, and we didn’t have the courage to say anything about it until fifth year, and by that time, he had already weaseled his way in, and it was too late.

I hate seeing her like this. Sobbing and heartbroken over someone who didn’t deserve her in the first place, and by the murderous look on Fred’s face, he feels the same way. “I could kill him,” Fred says gruffly as we walk down the stairs. 

“I’m right there with you, Freddie,” I respond as we hit the bottom of the stairs without another word. I know we can’t kill him. The only thing that would do is take us away from y/n, and that doesn’t help anyone. We’re no good to her in Azkaban. She needs us here, so here we will be. 

“Is she sleeping?” Mum asks as me and Fred sit down at the table next to Ginny, across from Harry and Hermione. 

“Yes,” I answer as she places the plates of food down. “It took her a minute to settle, but she’s asleep.”

“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t still kill him,” Fred mutters next to me. I let out a sigh and shake my head. I know he doesn’t mean it, but with his temper and his current tone of voice, it doesn’t surprise me when Mum scolds him. 

“Frederick Gideon Weasley!” Mum damn near screeches as she slams the pot of oatmeal down in the center of the table, making everyone besides Fred and me jump. “You two will do no such thing! Do I make myself clear?!” She asks shrilly, pointing at the both of us. 

“It’s not like he wouldn’t deserve it,” Fred fires back. Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny look around dumbfounded. 

Mum shakes her head. “Regardless, simply the mention could get you two thrown into Azkaban. What good would that do?” 

Ron clears his throat and looks up at me. “Um, did we miss something? Kill who?” 

“Malfoy,” I answer.

“What? Why? What did he do?” Hermione asks, putting down her book. 

“Morning, family!” Dad interrupts as he comes inside, kissing Mum before sitting down at the table. “Everyone have a good night?” He asks as Mum brings him a cup of coffee before setting the pot in the center of the table. 

“Reckon they didn’t, considering they want to kill Malfoy,” Ginny says as she pours herself a cup. I pour myself a cup and pass the pot to Fred. 

Dad looks at me and Fred curiously. “Really?” He asks, confused. “Now I figure you’d be excited. It’s not every day that a student finishes a year of schooling in a summer.” 

“What?” Harry asks. “Draco isn’t coming back this year?” 

Dad shakes his head as he sips his coffee. “Nope, finished all of his testing. He’s starting with his father at the ministry when he turns seventeen,” Dad turns back to me and Fred. “Why would you two be upset about that?” 

I look over at Fred, and he nods at me before putting food on his plate. “He broke up with y/n last night.” 

 “What?!” Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all ask at once. 

I nod and sigh. “He wrote her a letter. Said it was over and that he was leaving Hogwarts. Said he’s marrying that pug-faced girl, Pansy.”

“Now, George. That is no way-” Mum starts to scold me. 

Fred shakes his head. “No, the only thing that is ‘no way’ about this is breaking it off in a damn letter. The coward didn’t even have the decency to do it in person or when he started having feelings for that bitch!” Fred fires back. 

“Fred!” Dad yells. 

“Forget this,” Fred shakes his head and stands up from the table. “I’ll be outside,” he announces before walking out of the back door, slamming it behind him. 

Mum sighs and sits down. “His temper, I swear,” Mum mutters. “Don’t have the faintest idea where it came from.” 

Dad pats the back of her hand lovingly. “He’ll grow out of it, honey. I’m sure of it.”

The rest of breakfast goes by relatively quietly. And afterward, Ginny helps Mum clean up as the rest of us go outside to start de-gnoming the yard. I calm Fred down and we help the others. With six of us doing it, it doesn’t take more than an hour or two. 

Y/n

I wake up to the late afternoon sun shining through the curtains, only intensifying the headache from all the crying last night and this morning. I groan and roll over, burying my face into the pillow. Everything from last night comes flooding back into my mind. The letter, the crying. But this time, what sticks out the most is Fred and George. How they held me, comforted me, kissed me. They’ve kissed my cheeks before, usually after a game or a few too many, but the ones last night felt different, more meaningful. 

I immediately shut down the idea that it could mean anything different. Just like I have every time before, they’re my best friends. Nothing more. I’m simply overthinking it right now. My head pulses as I stand up in yesterday's wrinkled clothes. I just need a long, hot shower. 

I make my way to Ginny’s room and grab a fresh pair of shorts, an old band t-shirt, and a pair of underwear. Fuck wearing a bra. I just got my heart broken, which means I get to be comfortable. Besides, my shirt is baggy enough that nobody will be able to tell anyway. I grab my bag of toiletries and head inside the bathroom, closing the door behind me. 

I look in the mirror after putting my stuff down. My eyes are still puffy and a little pink, but after splashing my face with some cold water, they look a lot better. I stare at the scale on the bathroom floor, simultaneously dreading stepping onto it and the need to know my weight swirling in my mind. I strip off my clothes and close my eyes as I step onto it, praying that the number is lower than the last time I checked. 

I take a deep breath and open my eyes with clenched fists as the number stares back at me. 114. I let out a small sigh of relief. Ten pounds down from when I checked two weeks ago, and only fourteen pounds away from my ultimate goal weight. I look at myself in the mirror as the water heats up. My ribs are visible, and I can start to see my hip bones. I trace over them with my fingers as I admire them, imagining how they’ll look when I reach my goal. 

I’m mostly done with my shower, just finishing rinsing the conditioner from my hair, when suddenly I’m lightheaded, and my vision starts to fill with stars. I turn off the water and grab my towel, knowing I only have a few seconds until I’m passed out completely. I wrap the towel around myself and sit on the floor against the bathtub. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. I start to feel better as a knock on the door grabs my attention.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/n? Is that you?” I hear Hermione ask from the other side of the door. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” I answer, feeling a bit better as the fan blows on me. 

“Are you okay?” I hear her ask, then sigh. “Sorry, stupid question. Can I come in?” She asks.

I stand up, keeping my towel wrapped tightly around me as I open the door. “Woah, steamy in here,” Hermione jokes lightly. 

I chuckle and nod. “Yeah, I just needed a long, hot shower.”

Hermione nods and smiles. “I understand. George told us what happened. I’m so sorry, y/n. You deserve better than that. Draco is an ass,” she says, pulling me in for a hug. 

I let out a soft sigh as I pull back. “Thanks ‘Mione.”

“We’ve all been worried about you. You slept through two meals. Fred and George wanted to wake you up, but Molly told them to let you sleep,” she explains as she sits down on the edge of the tub and motions for me to sit in front of her. 

“I’m sorry, I was just so exhausted. I didn’t sleep last night,” I explain as she runs my brush and detangler through my hair. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Hermione says, leaning over my shoulder. “Listen, we’re all planning on playing tag after dinner. Well, besides Molly and Arthur. Would you like to join us? It’s completely understandable if you want to sit out. I will, too, if you want. I just thought I’d ask.” 

This is why I love Hermione. One of the many reasons. She’s kind to a fault and is never one to leave anyone out. She reminds me a lot of Luna in that way. I know I need to eat dinner, Molly might’ve let me get away with not eating breakfast or lunch because I was sleeping, but if I tried to get out of dinner? Ha. I’d have better luck convincing Snape that a troll ate my homework. Besides, playing tag involves running, which gives me the opportunity to burn it off anyway. 

I look back at Hermione and smile. “Sure, I’d love to, actually.”  

Hermione smiles and stands up. “Wonderful! I’ll let them know! Dinner is in twenty minutes,” she says, opening the door and shutting it behind her. 

I do my skincare and notice that all of the puffiness and redness are gone from my eyes. I finish getting dressed and dump my dirty clothes in the hamper before sliding on a pair of socks and my Converse and heading downstairs. 

“Hey, love,” George greets me with a smile as I step down on the last stair. 

“Hey, Georgie,” I smile back at him. He opens his arms and hugs me tightly. 

“How’d you sleep?” he asks as he continues to hug me around my waist and rubs my back. 

I smile and keep my arms wrapped around his shoulders and my face lying buried in his neck. “Good. Your bed is really comfy,” I giggle softly. 

George chuckles and pulls back, looking down at me. Even on a stair, he’s still much taller than me. It makes sense, given that I’m barely five foot five, and they’re pushing six foot eight. “Well, you’re welcome to steal it anytime.” 

“I might take you up on that,” I chuckle. Are we flirting? No, no way. Just teasing. I really need to get a grip. I hear Fred clear his throat with a smirk and look over at him. “Something on your mind, Freddie?” I tease with a smirk. 

Fred scoffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Just wondering why George gets a hug, and I don’t,” he smirks and arches a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re playing favorites now, love.” 

I laugh softly and George lets his hand fall from my waist as I step down and walk over to Fred. “Don’t worry, Freddie. I could never pick a favorite,” I tell him as I open my arms. 

I gasp softly when Fred wraps his arms around my waist, lifts me, and holds me flush to his chest. “So what I’m hearing is you’d pick us both?” Fred quips with a smirk as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. 

I smile and chuckle. “Every time,” I tell him truthfully. These two mean the world to me. Don’t get me wrong, I would be a wreck if I lost any of my friends. But if I lost them? I can’t even fathom that thought. I see the faintest hint of what looks like a blush on his cheeks, but it must just be from de-gnoming all afternoon. 

“I’m gonna have to hold you to that,” Fred tells me, looking deep into my eyes. I look for a sign that he’s being playful, but his tone is serious and stirs up feelings inside of me that I have buried for three years. 

“Dinner!” We hear Molly call from the kitchen. 

Fred sets me back down on my feet and smiles. “Let’s go get you some food,” he says with a smile as he and George drape their arms over my shoulders. I nod as they lead me into the kitchen. They’re being even more touchy than usual, maybe because I just got broken up with. But it feels like a little bit of something else, too. 

At the table, Fred and George take their normal seats on either side of me. We make our bowls of chili from the pot in the center. I allow myself two scoops and a small piece of cornbread and sit back down. I don’t get nervous to eat here, but anywhere else? Instant nervous wreck.

“Oi, you got enough there, love?” Fred asks me from my right side. 

I shrug and smile. “Yeah, just not that hungry,” I lie as I play with my spoon, reveling in how dainty my fingers look. 

“You sure? You haven’t eaten in nearly twenty-four hours,” George adds on, making me grip my spoon, and my muscles stiffen. 

 I smile sheepishly and nod. “Yeah, yeah. My stomach is just still upset from last night is all.” 

“You two leave her alone. What a woman eats is none of anyone’s business,” Molly chastises them. “She can always get more later. Now quit hounding her.”

Molly sits down at the table and I give her a small smile to silently thank her. She nods but has a worried look on her face. The rest of dinner goes by smoothly, just like normal. The twins, Harry, Ginny, and Ron, all talk about the upcoming quidditch season, and Hermione and I talk about what we’re studying for the year and the classes we’ve signed up for. Thankfully, nobody mentioned Draco, or anyone in Slytherin for that matter, except their quidditch team as a whole. 

Honestly? Screw Draco. Pansy too. They can have each other, they deserve each other, fucking snakes. I’m not mad at Blaise. If he truly didn’t know, then it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at him. But I will admit, it’d be nice to have a break from all things Slytherin for a while. Am I still upset that Draco broke up with me? Sure, anyone would be sad after being dumped via letter after three damn years. But if he’s not going to be at Hogwarts, then I have no reason to think about it. I can just move on, as he so gently suggested. 

After dinner, Molly starts the dishes and we all head outside to start playing tag. The rules are: two people will be ‘it’ and have a timer set for two minutes. After the timer goes off, they find and catch whoever they can, and that person becomes ‘it.’ The last person to not be caught wins. We all decide that Harry and Fred should be ‘it’ first, given the fact that having both Fred and George as ‘it’ would be Hell. As soon as they set the timer and close their eyes, we take off. 

George and I run in the opposite direction of everyone else. Normally, I could never keep up with them, but thanks to all the running I’ve been doing all summer, I can at least stay close. We’re running past the shed when we hear the timer go off. I feel two arms wrap around me from behind as George pulls me behind the shed, one hand wrapped firmly around my waist while the other covers my mouth, preventing my gasp from escaping. 

“Shh, don’t want to go getting us caught. Do you, love?” George says quietly as he leans down to my ear, his breath sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. I shake my head, and I feel his hand drop from my mouth. “Good girl,” Fuck me. That shouldn’t be hot coming from my best friend but fuck, I damn near purr when he says it with my back pressed to his chest and his arms draped around my hips. 

When our breathing has settled, I move away from his chest to stand next to him. George looks behind me with a smirk. “What is it, Georgie?” I ask before turning around and coming face to face with Fred. I shriek and turn to run, but Fred quickly catches me with his arms wrapped around me and pulls me to the ground. 

“Gotcha,” Fred smirks as he straddles my hips. 

I laugh and shake my head. “I let you catch me,” I taunt him as he and George laugh too. 

“Oh, is that so?” Fred asks with an arched brow. I nod when he turns to George. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” He asks. 

George smiles at Fred before sitting down on his knees and locking his eyes with mine. “Absolutely.” 

I don’t even get a chance to feel the butterflies erupt in my stomach from how they’re looking at me before their fingers land on my sides and start to tickle me. I shriek and cry out in laughter as I try to swat their hands away. “Fr-Fred! G-George!” I shriek in a fit of laughter, completely helpless. 

“Oo, I think I like you screaming out our names. Don’t you, Fred?” George teases me as he tickles my hips. 

“Oh, most definitely,” Fred responds with a smirk.

“M-M-Mercy!” I cry out with laughter, trying to squirm away. 

“I’m sorry, darling. What was that?” Fred taunts me as he pins my hands above my head. 

“Mercy! P-please!” I shriek as their words spin something tighter inside of me. 

George stops tickling me, but Fred keeps my hands pinned above my head. “Since you said please, love,” Fred smiles. 

“So now I have to catch you, right?” I ask Fred, half of me not wanting to move from under him. Liking being pinned under him and completely at their mercy, wanting more. 

Fred bites his lower lip and smiles. “That’s right,” he teases as he releases my wrists and stands up, offering me a hand. I take it and stand up in front of them. “Remember, two minutes,” Fred reminds me as he hands me the timer. 

I smile as I take it and look at both of them. “Two minutes and you two are going down, and I’m getting my revenge,” I taunt them. 

“Oh, ho, is that so, darling?” George says, stepping closer to me. 

I take a step closer, my chest almost flush with George’s as I look up at him. “That it is.”

“Then I guess you better start counting, little girl,” Fred says as he sets the timer for me in my hand. 

I close my eyes as Fred hits ‘start,’ and I feel them both kiss my cheeks, setting off butterflies inside of my stomach. Did they know I liked them before I got with Draco? Is this them making a move on me? Are they teasing me, or do they actually like me back? I’ll admit my feelings for them never died. They never went away. I just shoved them down and ignored them. Should I make a move? 

Shit, how much time is left on this damn timer? And where would they be hiding? I think of all of the hiding places we’ve had over the years. If they want me to find them, it’d be in an obvious spot. I should’ve listened to their footsteps. But as the timer beeps I have a pretty good idea of where they are if they want me to find them. 

As I get closer to the broom shed where George and I hid, I hear a twig snap from behind it. Gotcha. 

Staying as silent as I can, I sneak around the corner and see them crouched down, muttering something I can’t hear. I stalk behind them and shout as I fall onto their backs. “Boo!” I shout with a laugh. 

They look shocked as I move off of them, and we all laugh. “Merlin’s beard, y/n! You scared the shit out of us!” George exclaims.

Fred pulls me back down to lay across their laps and laughs. “Gave us a right good fright there, darling,” Fred says with a laugh and a hand on my thigh as my head lays in George’s lap. 

“Karma is a bitch, ain’t it?” I ask them sarcastically with a smirk as I laugh. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that one, love,” George says as he leans down to my face. I watch as his eyes roam from mine to my lips and back again. For a second, I think he’s going to actually kiss me, and for a second, I almost lean in with Fred’s hand still on my thigh. “Now you have to run from both of us.” 

Fred takes my hand and pulls me upright so I’m sitting fully in his lap as he looks into my eyes. “George is right, little one. Are you ready for that?” He asks with a devious smirk that goes right down to my belly. 

We stand up, and I hand Fred the timer. “Remember, I get two minutes,” I remind him, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through me. 

Fred smirks as he looks down at me. “Then I guess you better start running.”

They close their eyes after they start the timer, and I feel the butterflies in my stomach go haywire. Am I really about to do this? I let out a shaky breath as I prop myself up on my tip toes and kiss them each on the cheek. Guess we’ll find out how serious they are. 

Fred 

Did I feel that I think I did? Holy shit, she actually kissed me. It may have only been on the cheek, but it’s enough to instantly make me crave more. Did she do it to George, too? Now I have to find her, make her tell us how she feels, and never let her go again. She’s already slipped through our grip once, and we won’t let it happen again. 

The timer beeps, and I look over at George. “Did she?” 

George smiles and nods. “You too?” 

I smirk and nod. “Let's go get our girl.” 

We take off and look in all of her usual hiding places, not finding her in any of them. “Where the fuck is she?” George asks as we walk by the lake. 

“Yoo-hoo!” her voice calls out from above us in the tree. We look up, and she smiles and waves. “Come and get me,” she taunts. 

“Come on down, darling,” I call back to her. Sneaky little minx.

“Don’t make us come up there, love,” George calls out after me. “You’ll regret it.”

“Oh yeah? Or else what?” She teases us as she leans over the branch she’s sitting on. 

I look over at George and smile before looking back at her again. “Or else we’ll spank you,” I warn her. 

Her eyes blow wide as she looks down at us. “You wouldn’t dare,” she says, challenging us. But I don’t miss the way she bites her lower lip or the way she clenches her thighs together. Mm, so she likes that. Good to know.

“You have to the count of five,” George warns her. “Or else we each get to give you five spankings. You hear me?” The threat goes straight to my cock, making it harden in my pants. I imagine how she’d look bent over, taking our cocks as we paddle her ass red.

“Okay, okay! I’m coming!” She calls down as she turns and starts to climb down the tree like a good girl. 

“One,” George starts to count. 

“Two,” I count aloud after him. 

“Three,” George continues. 

“Four,” I warn just as she hits the ground on her feet. 

“That was four, so no spankings. Better luck next time, lads,” she teases as she pats our chests with a giggle. 

“Mm, that it was. So what will we do with you instead?” I taunt her as I step closer to her. She looks up at me with innocent eyes. She backs up a step, only to land against George’s chest with a small gasp. 

“Into the lake, I suppose, Freddie,” George answers my question as he puts his hands on her waist from behind, and I watch her shiver. 

We lift her, George holding under her arms as I hold under her knees. She squirms in our grip, shrieking. “No, no!” She cries out as she giggles while we carry her to the dock. “I’m sorry!”

“Too late for that now, little one,” I taunt her as we get to the edge of the dock. I wink at her as she tries to cover the slight moan she releases by clearing her throat. 

“I think she likes that name,” George teases as we hold her over the water. “Look how red she’s turning,” he points out the blush on her cheeks.

“Put me down! Please!” She cries out as she grips George’s arms. We pull her back and set her on her feet. We love teasing her, but if she’s not in on it, it’s not funny. 

“We’re only teasing. I’m sorry, love,” George tells her as she stands up on her feet. 

“We would never do anything you don’t want,” I remind her, feeling slightly guilty. 

She looks at us with a mischievous grin and giggles. “You boys are so gullible,” she winks. I look at George, confused for a moment before it hits me. Before either of us can react, she pushes us off of the dock and jumps in after us. 

When we break through the surface, I suck in a breath of air, looking at y/n as she smiles victoriously. “You’re a little devil, did you know that?” George laughs as he swims up and tickles her under the water, making her move closer to me as she laughs. 

“I learned from the best,” she laughs as she bumps into my chest. 

“That you did,” I tell her as I wrap an arm around her waist, holding her up. 

She turns to look at me, and I can feel her pebbled nipples under her shirt. Mm, no bra? That’s our good girl. The wind picks up as the sun starts to set over the hill, and yh/n shivers in my hold. “Let’s get you warmed up, hm?” George asks as he presses into her back and pushes her against my chest. 

She looks over her shoulder as her teeth begin to softly chatter. I half expect her to kiss him as I hold her or for him to kiss her, but instead, he simply takes her hand and starts to lead her out of the water. But she never forgets me, and she grabs my hand and leads me out, too. 

Y/n

George pulls out his wand and accio’s us some towels from the house. Fred takes mine and drapes it over my shoulders. “Let’s get you back,” he tells me as he looks down at me. 

“Sounds good to me,” I shiver softly as they each place an arm over my shoulders, and we walk the short distance back to the house in silence. We don’t always need words to communicate. I’ve gotten pretty good at reading their minds or their ‘twin telepathy,’ as Molly calls it. Most people assume that Fred and George are always talking, always having to do something. But a lot of the time when we hang out in the common room or sneak out, we end up laying together on the ground, me always in the middle, just looking up at the stars or the clouds. It’s peaceful, and not a lot of people get to see it. Very few do, actually. And I’m so thankful that I get to be one of them, their favorite. Theirs. 

There’s no denying how they feel about me now. And no denying how I feel about them. Is it right to move on from Draco so quickly? Is it really wrong if I liked them before I got with Draco? I mean, shit. He’s marrying Pansy now anyway, so why should I even give a shit? Fuck him. Pansy can deal with him needing a blow job every five minutes and him almost never eating her out. Her problem now. 

Molly gasps as we walk back into the house, dripping wet. “What happened to you three?” She asks in shock. 

“We were playing tag, and they caught me. They threatened to throw me in the lake, so I pushed them in instead,” I giggle as I explain, and Fred and George smile. 

Molly chuckles and wags a finger at them. “Well, then that serves you two right. She’s much smaller than you boys. You need to be mindful of that,” she scolds them unseriously. 

“We’re well aware of that,” Fred quips with a chuckle, making me blush. 

“You going somewhere, Mum?” George asks her as she grabs her purse. 

“There’s hot chocolate on the stove. Your father and I are meeting y/n’s parents in London for the night. We’re catching dinner and a show and doing a bit of shopping,” she explains before looking at me. “We’ll be back late tomorrow night. Please keep everyone in line while we’re gone, dearie.”

“But we’re older than her!” Fred protests. 

“Honestly, Mum. It’s like you don’t trust us,” George laughs with a smirk. 

Molly side-eyes them and huff. “Then act like you’re older, Fred,” she says to him before turning to George. “And I don’t. That’s why y/n is in charge,” she explains, motioning to them to bend down so she can kiss them each on the cheek. 

“Ready, dear?” Arthur asks as he carries two suitcases to the door. 

“Yes, honey. Be right out,” she calls after him as he walks out the door and we hear the car engine rev to life. “Behave, and we’ll see you all tomorrow night!” she calls out as she exits the door. We watch out the window as the car lifts into the sky and disappears.

Part Four