#People who are currently in the closet and plan to stay that way long-term

[shit-my-asexual-friend-says]

So, I recently reblogged a post about the asexual experience and realized that my addition was twice as long as the two other comments combined. This feels a little weird, since of the three posters, I am the one who is not asexual.

However, I am fairly confident that I know why.

The asexual community is regularly shunted to the side in other sex-positivity and queer-positivity movements, which is horrible. One of the side-effects of this, though, is that allosexuals who experience these same types of love and lifestyles - for example, my own bisexual queerplatonic ass - are not only shunted to the side, but basically invisible to the community at large. This isn't just harmful to me. If you read the post, I talk about @why-are-the-allos-like-this and my's shared experience of feeling that our relationship is lesser than any romantic relationship I might be a part of. Which is bullshit. It's not.

Love is love is kind of the slogan of the entire Queer community, but I know I'm not the only one who has had this experience. So I'm telling it to everyone: love is love is a radical idea. Love is love applies to everyone. It applies to me as a bisexual woman who is in love with a man; my love for him does not negate my bisexuality. It applies to me as an allosexual person who is in a queerplatonic relationship; my asllosexuality doesn't destroy that relationship.

When you shunt one part of the community to the side - asexuals, bisexuals, whichever trans identity we're villainizing today (it's always somebody), people who have detransitioned but remain allies, literally anyone - you are erasing a lot more experiences than the ones you have decided are lesser or unimportant. You're also erasing the ones that you literally do not know exist, because you never made a space for them.

To be clear, it is correct and important to give special attention to people who are going through specific extreme challenges. It is also important not to pretend that all of our challenges are the same; I have never faced violence in the way the trans women I know have, for example. Amplifying voices that need amplifying does not need to come with a side dish of invalidating and shouting down the voices that you don't think need amplifying.

#Shout out to: #Trans women who are currently under another fucking wave of accusations #Trans men who are currently being loudly told that they do not actually experience oppression because they are not women #Asexual people who are treated as second class citizens in most queer-friendly spaces because of the overwhelming focus on sex #People who do not know how to self-describe because they were systematically denied access to education #People who are not trans but were pressured to transition and have since detransitioned #Trans people (especially butch lesbians or former butch lesbians) who felt like transitioning would betray some cause #People who are currently in the closet and plan to stay that way long-term #People who experience queerness in a way that doesn't feel as life-altering as it is for the people around you so you keep quiet #queer culture #queer solidarity #asexual #bisexual #queerplatonic relationships #queerplatonic

[pissdykebutch]

this is all I'm gonna say about the overturning of roe v wade, until i have like actually sat my ass down and researched this. This is general advice as well as personal shit and I'd appreciate if y'all didn't reblog this because of the personal shit.

In the coming days I'm going to research state law for the state i live in, as well as the states I am considering attending law school at. I am fucking livid that I'm having to weigh "will I have rights here in a decade?" against the good I hope to do by getting into this rotten profession. We lost abortion at the national level today, but the precedent of something called "substantive due process" most likely went with it. The TLDR of that principle is that it was a mechanism that allowed courts to protect rights of people, even when those rights were not specifically named in the Constitution or it's amendments. Things like marriage equality and the right to access contraceptives previously rested on that principle and have been explicitly stated by supreme court judge Clarence Thomas, as something that should be reviewed (and likely will be under fire in the next couple years.) So quite frankly, i am not a lawyer, I do not fully understand the ramifications of this, but as someone starting to apply for law schools, I highly reccomend that USAmericans look into their state laws regarding not only abortion, but also contraceptive rights, same sex marriage and any protections or lack thereof for disempowered minorities.

Quite frankly, I think if you, a US resident have the budget for it, I think you should order a couple hundred condoms and get emergency plan b or a similar over the counter pill at the minimum. Even if you do not plan on having sex, even if you do not have a uterus, there is a good chance that somebody you know will greatly benefit from access to those resources. I also think a lot of trans people are going to have to make a lot of difficult decisions about our own reproductive health and weighing various forms of medical and legal transition against the possibility that they might not be accessible in the coming years. And regardless of how much you fit into all that, I hope each and every one of you that lives in the US makes a plan, whether it's just getting some single use contraceptives, planning your medical procedures for what may be a short remaining window, or even accepting that this is an unsafe time to be visibly queer and staying in the closet. These are not easy choices but you NEED to think about what is safe for you and your loved ones, and which possibilities you are going to plan around.

Speaking very personally about my own reproductive situation, I'm considering an orchiectomy, in the next year. Until today that was a "yeah i want to do this someday, but I want to wait, in case i find someone who wants bio kids." But now, I want the peace of mind, of knowing that i cannot cause an unwanted pregnancy and that I will actually be able to get that surgery for myself before it's too late. At the same time, to be quite frank, it is not garunteed that i will be able to adopt kids with another woman in the future. and the fucking thing is: having a family and raising kids someday with someone I love is the absolute most important long term goal of mine and while i may think that's unlikely, there's a chance that permenately sterilizing myself may leave me with no way to raise children in the future. And i am currently too disoriented and uneducated to be able to accurately weigh those possibilities, or any of the fucking possibilities of this shitshow. I need to form a plan in the coming days, and if you're in this hellhole of a country, you probably do too.

[nikadoesanart]

Dazai living in a shipping container analysis

I’ll be talking about the “pros” and “cons”, if you can even call them that, of Dazai living in a shipping container near a dumping site. Also I am using what architecture knowledge I do have on the subject of container homes.

This is on the longer side so brace yourself. Also Stormbringer spoiler warning, in case that wasn’t realized yet.

Before I actually start I’ll preface this by saying that I’m a former architecture student but it was with a design focus. I have also previously designed a shipping container home so although I have some knowledge, it does have its limitations.

Also this will be updated when the fan translations get to this part of Stormbringer. Currently, I’m getting the information from chazukekani and popopretty’s summaries and translations, so please check them out too!

As a general reference for what to expect of a shipping container home, the average shipping container is 8 x 20 ft or 8 x 40 ft. As a more visual example, here is a portion of the container house I designed. Note that it’s total length is 30ft because I have two 20ft long containers stacked on top of each other, with a 10ft offset. The space beyond the sliding doors is a balcony and can basically be ignored for the purpose of this analysis. With the pictured dimensions, you can consider it to be insulated from the outside, so as not to sacrifice internal space. Despite this, you can see that it feels fairly cramped even with minimal furniture (a sink, toilet and shower unit in the bathroom and a bed, desk, and wardrobe closet in the master bedroom).

Dazai’s current living arrangement

Now for comparison, let’s first take note of what’s known of Dazai’s living conditions for comparison.

he’s living in an illegal dumping site, and there are toxic substances coming from the ground because of this

“Not even a field mouse would dare to approach it.” (Popopretty)

the area is not on the map and Dazai lives near the center of it (which can easily be one of the worst parts in terms of health and safety)

the container was previously “used to export passenger cars overseas” (popopretty)

his only furniture is a fridge, (exhaust) fan, desk/table, a chair, and a bare light bulb

no one would approach “not just because the place itself was weird. It was because no one could predict how Dazai would react if someone approached his private residence.” (Popopretty)

it’s been a year since he’s joined, yet no one trusts him → he could’ve been living here since before he joined but we don’t know as of yet

he’s sitting in complete darkness, lightbulb off and door shut, until Verlaine opens the door and walks in

Verlaine asks if he’s living here because he’s afraid of property taxes but Dazai claims that he’s afraid of Verlaine. He’s not actually addressing his choice of location because he only corrected Verlaine on what he fears, and gives no actual explanation for why he chose to live here.

The “pros”

Naturally unapproachable location. Even if Dazai being PM Dazai wasn’t a factor in people staying away, the nearby smell alone means no one would normally approach it, much less suspect a Port Mafia executive of all people to be living there. It’s also unmapped territory so even less reason for him to be found. This means enemies and allies alike would have a more difficult time trying to find him (ie. to come for his life) and there’s unlikely to be anyone else around. After all, if even a mouse won’t go there why would a whole person live there?

It costs him nothing. Not that it’d make a difference with what we can assume of his financial wealth. He has money, likely more than Chuuya who lives in a nice apartment in a nice area, yet chooses to live in a shipping container in an illegal dumping site. This is beneficial for Dazai, since there’s no paper trail or record of where he lives, which goes right into my 3rd point.

Ease of abandonment. Considering his whole goal at the time is to off himself without troubling others in the process, it makes sense that he’d want to leave minimal traces behind. No unpaid rent or mortgage, no one on a waiting list to move into a nice place, and no personal belongings or attachments. This winds up being a pro/advantageous when he does leave the PM since there wasn’t a trace to follow him with in the first place. He can simply grab his few things of importance and find a new shipping container or abandoned building outside of the PM’s territory. In fact, he might’ve even been able to stay there or in that general area since no one dares to approach it in the first place.

The “cons”

Or should I say say the dangerous living conditions he’s in. I don’t find them surprising because again, he doesn’t have a long term plan to live at this point. He doesn’t have much reason to care about what happens to himself, as we can deduce from his overall disregard towards being constantly injured and in danger for example. This is also where the architectural stuff comes into play.

Let’s start with the most visible one, lack of insulation. With a shipping container home, you can insulate from the inside and lose about a foot of interior space in each direction (6 in. off each wall) or from the outside and lose the aesthetic of the textured walls. Either way, it costs time and money to do it. We know it’s not insulated from the inside because of the illustration and, in my opinion, it’s very unlikely that Dazai would’ve gotten it insulated from the outside because at the very least, it would make his container stand out among the others nearby. You need to insulate a container home because they get very hot or cold in the summer and winter respectively, as they are made of metal. I’ve heard that at the very least, Japan’s summers are HOT.

This one is a little harder to confirm and will likely be updated as fan translations are released, but a likely hazardous set up for electricity and (hopefully) plumbing. If you don’t have the insulation on the inside but you still have your electrical and plumbing, it can possibly become both a visual mess and a safety hazard. It’s possible that he kept it all in the back portion of his container for example, or maybe he has it taped to the floor or walls somewhere, but that also brings the question of where it’s connected to on the outside. Since he’s on a dumping site, then where’s the electrical going to go at the very least? Sure he can use nearby public facilities but every day? He has a fridge, single lightbulb and a fan but where is the power is connected to? In terms of plumbing, I think it’s equally likely he found a Porta potty nearby or there’s (hopefully) some sort of public or PM owned facility nearby. Really, his hygiene, especially during the PM days when he was (as far as we the audience are aware) likely at his lowest, can easily become its own separate question/discussion for another day. After all, we’re just talking about the condition of his container in this post.

The possible fumes and chemicals left over. The paint on shipping containers is meant to withstand the sea water splashing on to them, so it may contain harsh chemicals. And we know that his container was used previously to ship cars overseas, but that still leaves the possibility for things to have leaked on the inside at this time. We don’t actually know if it’s been used more than once, but seeing as we do have a usage history, I’d say there’s a fair enough chance for it to have been a single use container. Still, chemicals could’ve previously leaked and the paint may be a concern in the long run. It’s also possible that it has begun rusting as well, due to the metal being exposed to the likes of sea water. Also, let’s not forget the toxic substances from the illegal dumping site itself, possibly going into the container over time.

Also as far as we can tell, there seems to be a lack of windows. This means no natural light, aside from opening a whole door. Keep in mind that windows can help with indoor temperature control, not just natural light.

Living in a dump site, especially an illegal one. This one should speak for itself but I’ll list some concerns anyway. Seeing as it’s illegal, we can probably just forget about regulations altogether, much less any possible existing ones being followed. This means that there can be literally anything from hazardous waste material, to dangerous and sharp objects on the ground, to who knows what kind of smells and fumes, etc. In short, not a safe area to live in, for health concern reasons at a minimum.

Again, my knowledge on shipping container homes themselves is limited and I do recommend checking out Belinda Carr’s videos on some of the downsides of them from a professional’s POV.

7 reasons why shipping container homes are a scam

Responding to comments: shipping container scam video

Also, just because Dazai was making presumably LARGE amounts of money obviously doesn’t mean that he has to spend it all or live luxuriously if he doesn’t want to. It’s not that hard to infer why Dazai did choose to live in such conditions and I mainly wanted to draw attention to how these conditions can affect him, with both the advantages and disadvantages.

#bsd spoilers #bungou stray dogs #stormbringer #bsd dazai #bsd storm bringer #bsd theories #bsd analysis

[sugako]

c+k: hinata

hinata x f!reader

sum: a long day of many dates with hinata 

cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, lots of fluff, mentions of food/eating, fingering, slight exhibition, outside, implied sex, established relationship, l-bombs

wc: 2.2k

a/n: am i posting this 30 minutes before the end of valentines for c+k..yes,,

February 14th with Hinata was always a full day, so it came as no surprise when he shook you from your sleep early in the morning. Even though it was a yearly event you never grew tired of the special moments created each time. You had barely stirred an hour or so ago when he had silently risen to go for a run before the long day ahead. 

“Wake up, cutie, I made breakfast.” He kept his voice low to not disturb you too much, but the excitement was still evident in his tone. Sleep pushed aside you used his strong arms to help yourself sit up and stretch before slinking out of bed. 

“Thanks, Shoyo, I love you.” You clear the sleep from your throat and wrap your arms around him. With your head resting against his chest, still trying to blink the sleep away, you can’t see how big he’s beaming. He holds you close, rubbing away the tension and stress from your back and shoulders. After a long, quiet moment, you pull away and kiss him tightly on the cheek. “Let me brush my teeth and I’ll out, mmkay?” 

“Of course! Just hurry so it doesn’t get cold.” He urges with those perfect puppy dog eyes. You wouldn’t dream of dawdling around or taking your sweet time when you had such a perfect, hardworking boyfriend who obviously put far more effort into everything he did than maybe he should.

He pushed himself in all aspects of life. You hadn’t known him in high school, but he told you stories of his time playing volleyball with the Karasuno team, the first time they lost, all the times they won, and when they went to Nationals his first year. Some of the stories broke your heart to hear. He was hard on himself, something he covered up by his bright demeanor, but you always saw it. 

Sometimes your relationship was just as much of an effort for him as volleyball. He went over the top, pushing himself just a little too far, but it always worked out in the end even if he did stress you out every now and then. So you brushed your teeth a little too quickly and rushed out to the tiny dining area you shared. 

The small spread of your favorite breakfast food, most shaped or cut into messy little hearts. He was sitting, a little impatiently, absentmindedly typing on his phone. A warm smile lit up your face as you made your way over and sat across from him. Before you could even ask who he might be talking to, he threw his phone face down and spoke up. 

“Kenma.” He answered your unspoken question. “Was asking him about something I wasn’t sure about.” 

You nodded, taking a sip of the drink he had set out for you. The two of you dug in, mostly in silence until Hinata spoke up again.

“After this, we can go to the park to walk. If you want.” He half-asked and half-said through a bite.

“That sounds perfect, but can I give you my present now if we’re going out?” You stepped away from your finished plate before he had a chance to answer. 

“Yeah, sure!” He nodded quickly. 

You nearly jogged to the guest room where you had hidden his present, hoping that maybe this time he hadn’t snooped. Every year it was more of a game to hide his presents than it was to pick something out for him. This time when you found his gift the careful stack of odds and ends you had placed around it was completely intact and not a thing was out of place. Excited to see him genuinely surprised this time, you quickly shuffled back down the hallway.

You plopped beside him on the floor and handed over the medium-sized box, wrapped up as best you could in your favorite paper. 

“I forgot a card,” you explained as he ripped the paper back, “but I hope that’s okay.” 

His smile nearly dropped when he saw the outside. 

“These...How did you?” He sputtered out, throwing the paper to the side and tearing open the slick cardboard of the shoe box. Under the soft light of your house, his pretty, amber eyes grew glassy and his smile twisted up. “These are sold out everywhere and they were so limited. I don’t… I don’t understand…” 

They were pretty simple sneakers even if they were incredibly nice. He had picked them out forever ago, but they sold out in minutes and after that were near impossible to find. Thankfully, you had been one of the people who got them in the brief seconds they were available. According to the description, they were everything he was looking for in terms of shape, support, function, and even style. 

“I got lucky. Ordered them the second they dropped because I knew you wanted them and it was too late for Christmas and I couldn’t wait for your birthday.” You watched as he pulled them out and carefully inspected every little detail. 

“They’re perfect. They’re so perfect. I could have never imagined… I mean just growing up…” he cut himself off with a small shake of the head and threw himself around you before he got any more choked up. Hot tears stained the shoulder of your shirt as he let himself silently cry it out. He took a big, deep sigh to catch his breath and held you back at an arm’s length to admire you for a moment before pressing a long deep kiss against your lips. Cheeks still damp brushed against yours sweetly. “Thank you. I love you.” He finally said when you pulled away, brushing a stray tear from his cheekbone. 

“You’re welcome, I love you too.” 

...

The walk in the park was short and sweet. Really, he was just taking you to a little spot hidden by some trees and bushes so he could lay out a couple of thick blankets. It hadn’t been quite long enough since your breakfast for a full lunch for you at least, but he was happy to dig into the array of snacks he had packed.

After a second, much longer and slower walk around you found yourself in front of a movie theater. The only thing not sold out was a rough-looking action movie, but it didn’t matter much to either of you. Sitting through the movie, Hinata started stealing little kisses every now and then. Although he was the one who planned these long dates, he found himself wanting to just go home and growing impatient about halfway through every time.

His muscled hand kneaded and toyed with the soft flesh on the inside of your thigh. It wasn’t too distracting at first, but you practically choked on your water when his pinky slipped up and brushed against your clothed center. With a small smirk, he pulled his hand away and opted to lace his fingers with yours instead to hold himself back. 

As soon as the movie ended he rushed you out of the theater and back toward your home. You struggled to keep up with his pace, nearly tripping over your own feet. 

“Sho!” You giggled as he dragged you along behind him. “Sho, slow down, why are we running?!” 

“You’ll see! We have to be on time though.” He grinned back at you, not giving up his speed. 

When you got home he dragged you into the bedroom and made you cover your eyes - asking multiple times and, you assumed, checking to see if you were peeking. 

“Really, I promise. My eyes are closed.” You whined as he helped you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Okay, okay. One second!”

Staying true to your word, you kept your lids shut, listening to him shuffle across the room. You hummed in confusion when you heard him fiddling in the closet before he headed back to stand before you. In your head, you carded through every possibility, but even though what happened next made so much sense, you were still a little surprised.

“Now open!” He commanded. You moved your hands away and blinked your eyes open, smiling as soon as you saw what he had displayed in his hands. 

“Shoyo…” Held up for you was the prettiest dress you had seen. It was far more expensive looking and far more eloquent than anything you currently own. “Thanks,” you said at last taking the slick fabric into your arms, “but why? I don’t even know where I would wear this.”

He rocked on his heels, trying to hold back a grin. “We had to hurry home because I got reservations at a really nice restaurant. I hope you like it, I didn’t think you had anything to wear, and I wanted to actually get you something real too so it felt right.” 

“How long until we need to leave?” You’re already shucking off your clothes to throw the dress on. Hinata tried to tear his eyes away from your bare chest and body in order to answer you, but it felt impossible. When you shimmied your panties off under the dress, going to the dresser to get different ones, he nearly came undone. “Shoyo?” You asked again, sitting down at the vanity and rushing to get ready. 

“Oh, yeah, uh like twenty minutes.” He managed to squeeze the words out, heading toward the closet for his suit. 

...

You thought dinner might be the end of the night, but you were mistaken. Hinata insisted that he drive home even though you had driven to the restaurant. As soon as he turned out of the parking lot you realized you weren’t going home. 

“Where are we going?” You asked a couple of minutes into the ride. 

“You’ll see, it’s not far. Just to the top of the hill.” 

“The overlook?!” You pipe up excitedly. He knows you love to sit out and look at the stars, especially with him by your side. 

“No, maybe, stop guessing.” He grumbles, putting a hand over your knee. 

The feeling of his rough fingers through the soft fabric of your dress, rubbing little circles into your skin, distracts you from ruining his last portion of the day. A little tired from the day, the two of you remain mostly silent for the rest of the short ride up the hill. 

It was exactly as you expected. Thankfully, the sky was completely clear, and away from the bright city lights, it was much easier to see the stars up here. They glistened and sparkled like little gems against black velvet. Hinata laid out the same blankets from earlier, grabbing out a third to combat the cool night air. 

You snuggled next to him under the plush quilt, pushing your cold fingers under his neatly tucked dress shirt and against his warm, toned stomach. He squirmed under your touch but didn’t make any move to make you stop. 

“C’mere if you’re cold.” He mumbled out, pulling you closer. His hands settled under the swell of your breasts, distracting you from the pretty constellations. Fingers tapped against your skin and fiddled with the fabric of the dress until your breathing was uneven. No one was around, but you couldn’t help feeling a little ashamed that you were panting in his arms out in the open. 

“Sho…” You sigh when he hikes up the skirt around your hips and slides a finger against your clothed slit. 

“You’re really wet, what were you thinking about, hmm?” He groaned, pushing the thin fabric to the side. 

You let out a little gasp when you heard the quiet squelch from between your thighs. The roughened tips of his fingers slipped up and down, spreading the slick around your lips. Not bothering to tease you, he focused in on your clit. Along with putting an amazing amount of effort into the romantic part of your relationship, he did the same with the sexual parts as well. It wasn’t really a bother that he wanted to ‘practice’ that part so much. 

Keening against him, you felt yourself growing closer to the edge. Your pants were coming out louder and whinier now, echoing in the silent night. He eased two fingers in, making sure to press his palm against your throbbing bud. They expertly curled and pumped inside of you, hitting every spot you couldn’t quite get on your own. 

“Come on,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, “cum on my fingers.” 

His words were the last thing you needed to push you just over. When your cunt clenched and pulsed around his fingers he accidentally let out a low moan, imagining how your pretty pussy would feel around his cock. Hips twitched against his hand as he slowed his motions, easing you off your high. You called out his name in a hoarse whisper, grabbing onto the fabric of his pants to steady yourself. 

As you caught your breath, he helped to smooth your dress back out. You rolled over to press a messy kiss against his neck and loosely hold him. 

“Did you have a good time?” He asked quietly, sitting up and helping you with him. The question was sincere, but you could tell he couldn’t wait to get home to finish what you had started. 

“Amazing.” 

#hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata smut #hinata shoyo imagine #hinata shoyo smut #s.valentines #shoyo x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #hinata x y/n #hinata x you

[kisses-for-cas]

Summary: When a witch hunt forces the Winchesters to go undercover in a suburban neighborhood, Dean finds himself fighting with his upcoming feelings for a certain angel. To be more precise: the angel, who currently pretends to be married to his brother Sam.

Ships: Dean/Castiel

Word Count: 8,200

Read on AO3

Tammy has lived in this neighborhood for almost 30 years – she raised her kids around here and now is enjoying her well-deserved retirement with her husband Harold. And if she knows one thing for certain, then it’s this: there’s something wrong with the new neighbors. It’s not because they are gay, Tammy tells herself. She believes herself to be quite open-minded, one of her nieces is actually a lesbian. It’s something else, but she can’t quite put her finger on it yet.

The men moved in today, only a few days after the last tenants died in a horrible and tragic accident involving the lawnmower and a malfunctioning electric wire. Tammy doesn’t like to admit it, but she always knew those two didn’t fit the neighborhood. Sarah brought it up several times at Sunday Brunch, and as it turned out, the entire neighborhood held a grudge against the deceased couple. At least the house still looked well enough to get sold almost immediately again.

It’s hard to catch glimpses of the movers, but she catches a few sights as she stretches out of her bedroom window. One of them has dark hair and is wearing a tan trenchcoat, the other one seems to be taller and is coated in a flannel shirt. Not really the type to be moving into this street, but they might turn out to be nice. She tries to keep an open mind, she tells herself, even though she doesn’t understand how somebody could possibly move while wearing a trenchcoat.

Shortly after dinner, the doorbell rings, and Tammy almost jumps forward to get it. Sarah told her she’d call once she had a proper talk with the new neighbors, but the phone’s been quiet so far. But to her surprise, it’s not her friend in front of the door, but two handsome men holding a basket with muffins.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Philipps. We’re the Winchesters,” the taller of both says, as he holds his hand out. Tammy shakes them politely, as she smiles at them.

“Tammy is fine, and my husband Harold is probably already asleep in his lounge seat,” she jokes as she shakes their hands. The man in the trenchcoat seems a bit more reserved, but he still gives her a small smile when she looks at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tammy,” the other man says again. “I’m Sam, and this is my husband Cas.”

5 days earlier

“Lawnmower accident?” Dean laughs, as he re-reads the headline again. “Well, if this isn’t our kind of thing, I really don’t know what is.”

“Exactly what I thought,” Sam replies, turning his laptop back to himself. “Apparently there were several deaths within the last 10 years in this neighborhood, and all of them were classified as accidents.”

“All over the area? So less likely a spirit, and more like –“

“Witches?” Sam finishes his brother’s sentence. “Probably, the victims weren’t exactly popular in the area. One of them had a kid, but the couple wasn’t married. Another person wanted to move in with her wife, but she died before she could. Seems like they are most likely targeting people, who don’t fit the community.”

Witches and conservative suburbs sure aren’t Dean’s favorite things in the world, that much is sure. But if people are in danger, there’s no way he’d let them down. Especially, if he might get to kill some fundamentalist witch.

“Huh, so what we’re thinking? I’d say go undercover, but brothers usually don’t go buying some white picket fence house in a conservative neighborhood,” the older Winchester proposes, while settling back in his seat. He remembers how they tried to infiltrate that neighborhood so many years ago and how the salespeople kept mistaking them for a couple.

“I thought Eileen and I could maybe do it, but her leg isn’t healing as we hoped,” Sam thinks out loud, wincing at the thought of his injured girlfriend. The recent werewolf hunt was tougher than expected and left Eileen’s leg badly hurt. Cas tried his best to heal her, but she was still struggling.

“Maybe one of us could team up with Mom?” Dean suggests but cringes once the words leave his mouth. “Urgh, never mind. I’m not very strong on the Oedipus thing.”

“What about me?” Cas chimes in, all eyes turning to him. Dean didn’t even realize the angel entered the room. “Since we are not related, it might be less awkward to pretend a relationship.”

Dean is left more or less speechless, as he babbles incoherent words. He likes Cas very much; they are best friends for a reason. But pretending to be in a relationship? Heaven and Hell have been teasing them for years about their “profound bond”, so they might even get away with it. But Dean’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the mere thought of calling Cas a pet name or holding his hand in public.

“Uh-Uh, no way I’m getting fake-married to Cas!” Dean protests once he finds the ability to speak again. His reaction was apparently a bit harsh, judging by the looks both Cas and Sam give him.

“Okay…,” Sam sighs, drawing the word out in a long breath. It sounds like he wants to say more but instead turns to face the angel. “Castiel, would you like to pretend-marry me?”

Dean can feel a blush creep up his neck, as he stares at his brother. It’s the reasonable thing to do, but it just feels wrong. Nobody ever questioned their status as friends, and Dean can’t even picture the both of them acting in love. When he thought his stomach felt bad before, he’s now actually feeling sick.

He’s close to suggesting a fake relationship with their mom again when Cas simply nods to answer Sam’s question. “Of course, Sam. I mean, I do.”

The two share a hinted smile as if they are both part of a joke Dean doesn’t get. The sick feeling still doesn’t leave him, as he stands up from his seat. He must have eaten something wrong today, that’s the only logical explanation.

“Well, Mazel Tov to you guys then,” Dean mutters, more to himself than to the other men. They don’t even look at him when he leaves the room behind.

———————————————————————————————–

“I still think this is a stupid idea,” Dean protests, as he puts the meatloaf in the oven. Somewhere behind him, he knows Cas is preparing the salad and Sam is busy fluffing some pillows on the couch.

“We need to connect with all the neighbors, and a housewarming party is the easiest way to do so,” Sam replies annoyed. He and Cas introduced themselves to everyone in the neighborhood, but nobody seemed guilty so far. Cas tried his best to “sniff the witch out” but only found some kitchen herbs in the local gardens and a loud laugh from Dean, when he explained his plan to search for witch-like smells. So far, they had no clue who the responsible party could be.

“Dearest, could you make space in the hallway closet for the coats?” Sam calls out to Cas, and Dean almost burns his hand at the stove. He had a few days to adjust to the idea of Sam and Cas pretending a relationship, but the term of endearment still surprises the hunter.  

“What’s next? You’re gonna kiss goodbye on the porch when Cas drives to work?” Dean snaps at his brother, who seems confused by the sudden anger.

“If the situation needs it, sure…,” Sam replies, but Dean interrupts him before he can continue.

“What the hell, Sammy? Dearest? What kind of weird pet name is that even supposed to be?”

“The one Sam and I agreed to,” Cas replies drily. The look in his blue eyes leaves no space for any further discussion. “This act is completely planned out, and we can’t risk our standing because you are having trouble adjusting, Dean.”

Just as Dean wants to argue again, they are interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. They can only hope nobody heard their yelling, the last thing they need is unnecessary gossip from the neighbors. Cas and Sam waltz towards the front door, while Dean stays a few steps behind them.

“Hello Tammy, Harold. Welcome to our humble home,” Sam greets the guests, as the couple enters their hallway. Cas takes their jackets from them, hanging them in the biggest coat closet Dean’s ever seen. Well, at least the house got some perks. Before he can think more about the architectural features of the house, his brother calls for him.

“This is my brother Dean,” Sam introduces him, and Dean tries his best to give a fake smile and nod politely at the boring stories the neighbors tell him. This is going to be a long evening…

—————————————————————————————-

“Well Ladies, let’s begin Sunday Brunch,” Irene happily pronounces, as she raises her mimosa in the air. The other women do the same, cheering each other. It’s the first Sunday Brunch after the Winchesters moved to the area, leaving more than enough gossip material for the group.

“They seem nice enough, but I heard Sam is unemployed. He just sits around all day at home and waits for his Cassiel to come back home!” Jennifer complains with a deep sigh. It’s no secret she isn’t the biggest fan of the new couple, but even she can’t deny the quality of the served meatloaf at the housewarming.

“His name is Cassiel, dear,” Beth replies, eying the salmon pieces hungrily. “They said Sam’s working in IT and can do it from home. Clearly, an excuse, if you ask me.”

The gossip continues happily: Tammy found out they only have one toothbrush. Irene asked about Cas’s job, and apparently, he’s working in a nearby library. And all of them agree, their marriage is weird. Whenever Sam touched his husband, it felt unnatural, and they didn’t kiss once the whole evening.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” Sarah sighs, and the group’s attention draws over to her. She’s been quiet so far, which means her news are far bigger than everyone else’s: “The brother.”

“If I were only twenty years younger…,” Beth starts, earning a peal of laughter from the women around her. “He’s very handsome, that’s true.”

“Yes, and I think Castiel would agree with you there,” Sarah speaks, before taking a long sip from her teacup. The reaction is immediate, as all the women start talking at once. The Winchester barely lived a week in the neighborhood, but they already produced the best gossip they had in a while.

“Do you think they are having an affair?” Tammy asks shocked. Of course, she had felt the tension between the family members, but she blamed it on the stress of moving. But now that Sarah suggested it, it seems like a possible explanation.

“We can’t be sure yet, but I bet something is going on. Dean surely looked rather unhappy every time he saw Sam touching his hubby. And Cas got some serious heart-eyes for his brother-in-law.”

“Besides,” Irene steps in “their marriage just seems – off? There’s more sex happening in the way Cas looks at Dean than in his marriage bed with Sam”

“Irene!” The shocked gasp from the elder women makes the other guests laugh, as they refill their mimosas.

“Oh, poor Sam,” Tammy sighs, fiddling with her wedding ring. Being cheated on must be awful on its own, but having your husband fool around with your own brother? That’s a new level of tastelessness.“

“Anyways, have you seen Mrs. Ericson’s new haircut? Just awful…”

——————————————————————————————

Dean excuses himself early from the housewarming party, not knowing how much more of the charade he could have handled. He expected to get some blackmailing material for his brother, it was supposed to be a funny sight after all. What he didn’t expect was the burning sensation on his inside, as he regarded the play right in front of him.

He’s still mad about the whole thing, and how caught up both of them were. It’s one thing to hold hands and present in the couple in front of others. But Sam calling Cas by a pet name in private? That’s just unprofessional, even Dean knows that. And then Sam told him, he would even kiss Cas if the situation needs it…What the hell was that even supposed to mean? Nobody is going to force them to kiss, the party guests are all far too old to play “spin the bottle” anymore.

Would Cas even kiss back, if Sam initiated a kiss? The angel doesn’t seem the type for physical affection; hell, he only lost his virginity a few years ago! The image of Cas pressing Meg against the wall, kissing her passionately, popped back up in Dean’s mind. And then the image changed to Cas and Sam in the same manner…God, Dean’s gonna have to swallow some holy water to get rid of that mental image.

Carefully, he watched the way his brother and his friend interacted, and the sight made him feel uneasy. He thought it was a stupid idea for them to fake a relationship because it would just be weird. But now that he was watching the way Cas’s hand rested on Sam’s lower back, Dean realized it’s something entirely else: he’s jealous. It’s not a feeling he knows very well; after all, none of his relationships ever lasted long. But as he watched Cas laugh at one of Sam’s stories, their sides pressed together – it’s setting something inside of Dean loose.

If he hadn’t acted like a child, he might have been the one standing beside Cas at that moment. He would have been the one holding his hand, laughing at his jokes, and maybe even pressing soft kisses on Castiel’s cheek. Nobody would even question their act, he’s sure of that. And then his mind kept wandering, back to the memory of Cas showing off his kissing skills. Except now it wasn’t Meg, but himself getting pinned against the wall.

Dean’s not stupid; he knows he likes men the same way he likes women. It’s been a long journey to finally find self-acceptance, but he’s finally contempt with it. That doesn’t mean he’s going to buy pride stickers and tell everyone around him he’s bi. No, it’s his secret and he’s the only one who needs to know about it.

He also knows Cas’s vessel is very attractive. But those two things – his attraction to men and his profound bond with Cas – were never something he considered might be related. But thinking about Cas kissing him – it’s something Dean never knew he wanted that much. When the sight of the happy couple got too much for him to bear, Dean excused himself to get a drink. Only then he remembered they are actually on a job, and he’s supposed to be on the watch out for possible bad guys.

And he’s totally going to do that.

Once he had a proper drink.

——————————————————————————————

“Please tell me your stupid charade is at least getting you somewhere,” Dean groans, once Cas is settled in his seat across from him. They decided to meet up in a close diner to discuss their next steps, while Sam is hacking the public security cameras from their house. Dean refuses to call it their “home”, hating the implication it’s setting.

“There are a few people we can surely rule out,” Cas replies, stirring some sugar into the coffee mug Dean pressed into his hands. “On my drive yesterday, the energetic waves were much stronger at the end of the street.”

“Great, so what’s next? You and Sammy going to play house for some more weeks, until we finally got our suspect?”

Dean can only hope the hunt will be over rather sooner than later. He barely slept the night after the housewarming party, his mind racing with thoughts. Not even liquor helped to drown them out and the night left him feeling not only exhausted but more upset than ever.

Castiel releases an annoyed groan. “Can you just…you’re undermining this plan at every given opportunity, and Sam and I are getting worried you might risk the entire thing.”

“I just want,” Dean starts, the words twisting in his throat. He knows exactly what he wants, ever since seeing Cas and Sam casually holding hands and snuggling on the couch. But at the same time, he knows it’s something he can’t have. Angels aren’t supposed to have emotions, he knows that. But when he catches Castiel’s blue eyes carefully watching him, Dean can’t help but feel a spark of hope.

“Do you ever think things could be, you know, different between you and me? Maybe we could be…more…or…”

“Dean,” Cas replies, his name sounding almost like a prayer from his lips. “Are you saying…”

“Well, hello you handsome fellas,” a sudden voice snaps them back to reality and when they look at its owner, Beth is smiling at them. “I thought it was you, so I just had to pop in and say hello.”

“Hello then,” Dean grumpily answers, his eyes focused on the table before him. Of all possible times, Beth had to disrupt them just now. He remembers the way those nosy neighbors had eyed him at the housewarming party, and how it made him uneasy. But then again, he only had eyes for Cas that evening.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work, Cas?” Beth asks, an obnoxious tone hidden under her sweetly sick smile. Right, Dean remembers, they told everyone Cas works at the library. Good enough of an excuse to spend their time there.

“Uhhh – Lunch break,” Castiel answers stiffly, his eyes shortly glancing over to Dean. The hunter seems to have grown smaller by the second, as he fiddles with the menu.

“Well, tell Sam I said hi,” she comments cheerfully, as she finally leaves them alone again. Silence falls over the table, only disturbed by the noise of the diner around them. Dean can feel Castiel’s watchful eyes on him, but he’s not ready to face them yet. He might not believe in fate or destiny, but the disturbance came just at the right time. A few seconds more and he might have destroyed the best friendship he had his entire life.

“Dean…,” Cas finally breaks the silence, but Dean interrupts him before he can speak more.

“Just forget it, Cas…Let’s focus back on the case.”

They don’t pay any attention to Beth, who silently snaps a picture of them from the outside. It feels like the ultimate proof those two are actually having an affair; why else would they meet up in a diner during Castiel’s work hours? She can’t help but grin, as she sends the picture to her friends.

TO: BRUNCH LADIES

“Look who’s having dinner instead of working….”

——————————————————————————————

“It’s Jennifer,” Cas says, once the image of Dean flashes over the laptop screen. After several neighbors pointed out how attached Dean seems to be to his brother, they decided to stick to virtual conversations for the moment.

“You sure?” Dean asks as he watches his brother and his best friend sit on their couch. He should be glad to once have an entire motel room for himself, but for some strange reason, he misses his family. Okay, he knows exactly why: he hates not knowing what’s happening between his brother and Cas. Sammy isn’t interested in Cas that way, he knows that. But the thought of them holding hands is enough to get Dean bothered.

“Absolutely,” Sam replies. “She was already one of our suspects due to some lucky incidents in the last few years, but when I was at her house, I clearly saw some witch supplies.”

“Her magic doesn’t seem too powerful, destroying her supplies and her altar should be enough to stop her,” Cas adds up, and Dean nods along.

“She’s working from home, right?” Dean asks while trying to remember everything about the suspect. Jennifer didn’t talk to him a lot; she was more of a loner. Apparently, her husband died a few years ago and left her enough money to start her own jewelry company. “How are we going to get her out of the house long enough to take care of the situation?”

“We could throw another party. Maybe celebrate a birthday or a wedding anniversary. And you and Mom could handle the house in the meantime,” Sam suggests.

“She didn’t stay long at the housewarming,” Cas throws in. “We need some more time, there might be warding at her house – maybe we could try a distraction, so she stays longer?”

“You could fake-break-up your fake marriage,” Dean huffs under his breath, knowing already they won’t agree to it. If their plan fails, the entire cover-up story would be blown up. There’s a bottle of beer in Dean’s hands and he takes a deep gulp from it. It may not be noon yet, but he stopped caring about that years ago.

Cas answers once Dean finished drinking. “No, that’s hardly enough to draw her attention.”

“We could call Jack, maybe he can help out. He could be your unknown son from a secret affair,” Dean jokes next. It sounds almost like a cheap plotline from Dr. Sexy – except Dr. Sexy’s secret son actually appeared in season 3 and needed an organ transplant, which could only be donated by his father. While Dean tries to remember how the episode ended, Sam and Cas nod in agreement.

“I’ll call Jack right away,” Cas speaks, his phone already halfway pressed to his ear. A second later, the angel disappears from the couch, leaving only Sam in his view. The younger Winchester seems to wait for Castiel to leave the room before he addresses his brother again.

“Dean, promise me you won’t act up,” Sam tries to reason. “We can’t risk the entire thing because you are getting jealous.”

“Jealous? Don’t be ridiculous, Sammy,” the older Winchester mumbles, trying his best to not sound petty. “Scout’s honor, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

——————————————————————————————-

Dean’s promise lasts around 20 minutes, which is already longer than he honestly would have expected. He and Mary will enter Jennifer’s house at 1800 sharp, leaving them with just enough time to trash her little altar and the supplies. Jack is going to start with his distraction around 10 minutes earlier, giving Dean enough time to slip out quietly. It’s all planned to the minute, which of course means, it’s destined to fall apart.

They invited their neighbors under the premise of Castiel’s birthday, even though the angel technically doesn’t even have a birthday. It doesn’t matter anyway, since Sam promised some BBQ and apparently that’s enough to motivate everyone to show up. Dean watches the spectacle from a distance, occasionally sipping his cold beer. He planned to handle the grill, but some bored husband hushed him away to deal with it instead.

Cas looks beautiful, Dean notices as he watches his best friend talking to his guests. He’s wearing a light blue dress shirt and a pair of dark jeans, and Dean makes a mental note to thank his brother for finally getting Cas out of his usual outfit. Then he remembers it means Sam took Cas shopping at some point, and Dean’s gratitude turns sour in his mouth.

“How long have you two been married?” one of the ladies asks Cas, and Dean tries his best to hide a snickering laugh.

“Too damn long,” Dean jokes under his breath, but loud enough for several heads to turn in his direction. Maybe he had a beer too much, but watching Sam and Cas acting in love isn’t a thing he can handle sober.

“Two years,” Cas replies shortly, shooting angry glances at Dean. A second later, he mumbles to his guests again. “May you excuse me for a moment?”

Dean steps back, ready to hide from Castiel’s anger, but it doesn’t work. Barely a moment later, Cas is already in front of him. His hand closes tightly around Dean’s arm, keeping him from turning away.

“What’s the matter with you, Dean? You’re acting like a child,” Cas hisses when he catches him in the hallway. It’s enough to make Dean angry again, as he pulls his arm away from Castiel’s tight grip.

“The matter with me?” he shoots back. “This is honestly so ridiculous, you’re acting so…”

A middle-aged man bumps into them, and Dean stops talking immediately. There are far too many people around and if he says anything about the case, it could ruin their entire plan. The guests are spread all over the house, leaving no place to talk in private. Well, almost no place…

“We need to talk,” Dean whispers, before dragging the angel into the coat closet. Some curious eyes seem to follow them, but Dean shuts the door before anyone else can spot them. The closet is surprisingly spacious, but the walls seem to suffocate him. There’s a bit of light coming in through the shutters, and he can see the concern written all over Cas’s face.  

“What’s going on? Ever since Sam and I began working this case, you’ve been acting weird,” Cas presses on and Dean knows it’s finally time to come clean about his feelings. He doesn’t want to lose Castiel’s friendship, but he can’t keep lying anymore.

“I wish it were me,” Dean rushes before he can chicken out again. “Instead of Sam. I wish it were me you’re married to. And I know it’s all fake, and you’re just pretending, but it’s driving me insane. Watching him hold you and call you those cheesy pet names. Because - because it’s something I want to do with you…not pretending, but for real.”

Once Dean starts speaking, the words don’t seem to stop rushing from his mouth. Cas just regards him with those hauntingly blue eyes, his head tilted in a way that always makes Dean’s heart melt. When all is said, Dean feels like the air was punched out of his lungs, as he awaits his friend’s answer.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because I was too stupid to realize it for the longest time. And then I just didn’t know how to say it,” Dean admits. He came close to confessing in the diner, but Beth interrupted them and afterward, Dean felt ashamed and stupid.

“Dean,” Cas whispers. “I want those things too.”

There’s the beginning of a bright smile on Castiel’s face, and Dean swears his heart skips a beat when the words finally dawn on him. Before Dean can overthink the situation, he presses closer to the angel and is relieved when Cas is doing the same. And then their faces meet in the middle. Kissing Cas is the easiest thing in the world, it turns out. Whatever Dean was so afraid of, is right forgotten once their lips slot together.

It starts out innocent and gentle, just like the way relationships start. But then Cas opens his mouth a little bit, letting Dean lick inside and,  oh  – now things are getting heated. Dean presses even closer to Cas, their chests flushing together and their arms holding each other close. Somewhere, Cas’s back hits a wall and Dean pins him against it. The moan that falls from Cas’s lips is almost obscene while motivating Dean only further.

It’s perfect, and amazing, and breathtaking – until the closet door opens and they stumble onto the floor. Tammy’s surprised gasp draws everyone’s attention over to the couple, still entangled on top of each other on the floor. Everyone’s, even Sam’s.

“What the hell do you two think you are doing?” he yells loud enough to attract the entire house to the hallway, where they are watching them closely. Dean and Cas are still on the floor, slowly stumbling back to their feet.

“Sammy, I can explain…,” Dean starts, but now Sam turns his attention to Cas. He steps closer to them, his pointed finger slapping against Castiel’s chest.

“You’ve been screwing my brother?!” he yells, before locking eyes with Dean. “And you! Is this why Fernando broke up with me?”

Dean is taken aback for a second. Who the hell is Fernando? It’s only then when Dean remembers their lesser-used codewords. He can still recall how he wrote it down in his own leatherbound journal:  Fernando – just play along.

“This got nothing to do with Fernando, this is about me and Cas!” Dean replies with an angry voice, before taking Castiel’s palm into his own hands. Cas gives him a quick squeeze, and Dean decides to have at least a little fun with the situation.

“I finally understand now, why I was so against your marriage. Because you two don’t belong together! Your whole marriage is a scam! You act all perfectly happy when in reality, you’re not even sleeping in the same bed anymore.”

Dean can hear the people around them gasp a little. He wouldn’t be surprised if one of the elder people would end up with a heart attack due to all the fake drama being uncovered right now. Besides him, Cas draws in a deep breath, before speaking to his (fake) husband.  

“It’s true, Sam. I’ve been having feelings for your brother for a while now, but I never knew how to address them.”

Sam just looks at them with the biggest puppy eyes Dean’s ever seen. His time in drama club surely played out. “Are you two in love?”

Dean takes a deep breath, looking over to the familiar blue eyes, and the truth slips easily over his tongue.

“I think I love Cas more than I’ve ever loved myself.”

The look on Castiel’s face is everything and without even words, Dean knows he feels the exact same about him. The room is quiet around them, and from the corner of his eye, Dean spots Jennifer amongst the watchers. At least their little distraction worked well enough for her to stay.

“As your brother, I wish you all the happiness in the world,” Sam speaks, his eyes fixed in the distance. When Dean turns his head, he spots their mother coming in through the entrance door, breathing heavily but otherwise seems okay. She gives them both a small nod, signaling them she took care of the altar.

The crowd seems satisfied for the moment, and Dean is about to lead Cas out of the house when a voice stops them midway. It’s Jack, who is shouting loud enough for everyone to hear: “Sam, I am your secret son!”

The drama is enough to make at least one elder lady faint.

——————————————————————————————-

Dean and Cas depart soon enough, leaving Sam to deal with the rest of the concerned neighbors. Everybody seems to be too caught up in the drama to notice their quiet leave. They end up back in the diner, this time holding hands on the table. Surprisingly, everything feels the same and yet, completely different than before. Dean can’t put it in words, but for the first time in years, he knows he’s truly happy.

It takes a bit of time for Sam to finally text him, saying his guests finally left them alone and they can come back to talk about their next steps. When the Impala roars down the road, Dean can feel the eyes of every household staring at them. They are probably wondering why he would be back so soon enough, but Dean doesn’t care. He just holds Cas’ hand on the way to the house, fully knowing he won the grand prize.

Jack and Mary greet them happily, and even Sam can’t hide his grin as he approaches his brother. “Well, if it isn’t the homewrecker himself.”

“Come on, I bet several of your neighbors would have consoled you all night long, if you had asked them,” Dean shoots back, throwing a wink at Sam. He remembers the way one of the ladies had clung to Sam’s arm, trying her best to cheer him up about his failed marriage.

They all settle in the living room: Cas and Dean on the couch, Mary and Sam seated in each of the armchairs, and Jack sitting cross-legged on the floor. It may not be much, but it’s their own little screwed-up family. While Sam gets them beers from the fridge, Dean considers putting his arm around Cas. They haven’t had time to label their relationship yet, but they’re both too old to play games. So, Dean decides to go with his gut and wraps his arm around Castiel’s shoulder. The returned smile lets him know it was a good decision.

“Sorry for the way I acted earlier, it was just for show,” Sam says when he passes the beer over to the couple. “I’m actually glad you two finally figured things out.”

“Me too,” Mary chimes in with a laugh. “Even though I was patiently waiting for your back-up at the house.”

“Bet you still did an amazing job without me,” Dean returns, an honest smile on his lips. He holds his beer towards her, and she clinks it with her own.

Sam fills them in with the details of the last hours, and how he watched Jennifer leave her home in a panicked state. She packed a few bags, before driving away with screeching tires. Well, another case successfully solved. They talk for hours while laughing about stories and eating the leftovers from the party.

“Damn, I could really use some sleep now,” Dean yawns, stretching his arms. A short glance at the clock lets him know it’s almost 2 am and they gotta hit the road early the next day.

“How about you two head to the motel, and Jack and Mom stay here?” Sam proposes. When Dean checks on Jack, the kid is curled up in his seat, snoring quietly. No way they’re going to move him somewhere else, so this plan might be for the best.

“You just want me to stay, so your neighbors see this pretty lady leave your house tomorrow,” Mary jokes, earning some quiet hollering from her elder son and a laugh from Castiel.

“Guess we’re heading back to the motel,” Dean finally decides, before clumsily standing up from the couch. If it weren’t for the awful neighbors, this place might actually be nice. The furniture for one thing is comfortable enough. And the closet sure gave him a few ideas what to do with Cas in the future. He takes a few steps towards the door until he notices something is missing. “Cas, you coming?”

“You want me to come along?” Cas asks, and Dean just nods.

“Of course, would be weird to stay with your husband now that you scored the hotter brother,” Dean replies, pressing a gentle kiss on Castiel’s cheek. He never knew angels could blush, but it’s a sight he will never get enough of.

“We’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine, better be dressed!” Sam shouts after them when Dean is already halfway out of the door.

“You’re such a buzzkill, Sammy. No wonder your husband left you”

“I’m just glad you’re finally out of the closet,” Sam shoots back with a grin. Dean already knows it’s a joke he’ll hear a thousand times in the upcoming years, but when he looks over at Cas, it sure is a price worth paying.

The drive to the motel is rather short, and soon enough, Dean unlocks the door to his room. Luckily, he had booked a room with a king-size bed. He rarely had a room for himself during hunts, so he had decided to enjoy that. Cas closes the door behind them, while Dean strips out of his flannel and his jeans. He’s still wearing a shirt and his boxers, but compared to a fully dressed Castiel, he almost looks naked.

When Dean comes near him, the angel wraps his arms around his torso and pulls him even closer. Once again, their lips meet in a kiss, growing more heated by the second. It’s with a sigh that Dean slowly pulls away again.

“Maybe we should take it slow, honey. How about we just cuddle tonight?” Dean murmurs, pressing gentle kisses along his jaw. The exhaustion of the day lies heavily on Dean’s bones, and all he wants to do is cuddle into bed, his lover beside him.

“Honey?” Cas asks with a raised eyebrow, and Dean feels himself blushing yet again.

“It’s just – every time I see a bee or something, I have to think about you,” he admits. “Remember how you collected honey yourself? Or when you showed up covered in bees?”

Cas smiles at the memory. “Of course, I remember, but why would you bring that up now?”

“It’s just a term of endearment, a pet name. I can stop if you want”

Dean was never a big fan of pet names. He usually called his partners by their names, not some silly phrase. But then again, he was the one who turned  Castiel  to  Cas,  so maybe the angel has always been the exception for him.

“No, I like it,” Cas decides, before pressing another quick peck onto Dean’s lips. “And I am fully contempt with cuddling you.”

After some discussion about clothing choices, Cas also strips down to his underwear. Cuddling in jeans and a dress shirt would have been awful, and Dean luckily managed to convince the angel of it. The bed is more than big enough for the both of them, as they lie facing each other in the dark.

“We should make you a proper Winchester someday,” Dean mutters, gently kissing Cas’s knuckles. He isn’t thinking about marriage, not yet at least. Most marriages he’s seen over the years ended in death: his parents, Bobby and his wife Karen, Ellen and her husband…The list goes on and on, including those couples they couldn’t save during their hunts. When he saw his own father stricken with grief for his lost wife, part of Dean swore he’d never marry. But then again, Dean never would have believed he’d ever live past the age of 30. It’s with a smile upon his lips that he finally falls asleep.

All his life, he expected monsters in every dark corner, and more than enough times Dean was proven right. He’s been long enough in the business to smell danger from miles away, Dean believes. Which is why he’s surprised to wake up to the sound of Castiel shouting his name.

When he opens his eyes, all he sees is purple. The room seems to be painted in the color, reflecting on every surface possible. And in the middle of it all stands Jessica, glaring at them with violet and angry eyes.

“You! You really thought destroying my altar was enough to stop me?”

Dean’s hand finds its way under his pillow but returns empty-handed. He must have forgotten to place it there, too caught up with his lover. And when he looks around, he can spot his faithful gun sitting on top of a dresser, which is inconveniently placed behind the wrathful witch in the room. Cas is already standing beside the bed, and the sight of a half-dressed angel ready to fight would be hilarious if it weren’t for the mortal danger they’re in.

“You’re an abomination,” Jessica yells again. “Dirty and sinful, and…”

The angel blade hits her right in the chest. Her purple eyes glance downwards, where the blood comes rushing out of her body. Apparently, she was so caught up in looking dangerous, she actually forgot to ward herself. And with Castiel’s heavenly aim, that could only end deadly for her. Jessica sinks to her knees; the purple flashes of lightning slowly disappearing from the room. It’s only then when Dean decides to approach her. Blood is running down her mouth, but she’s still alive, watching the hunter carefully as he kneels down in front of her.

“I’ve had a voice like you in my head my entire life, whispering awful things about myself,” Dean tells her, keeping eye contact as he pulls the angel blade out of her bleeding chest. “But now, that I’m finally happy, do you know what happens to this voice?”

Jessica doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t need her to.

He would have slit her throat either way. 

———————————————————————————————

“Welcome to Sunday Brunch, Agnes,” Sarah announces, as the women settle down at her dinner table. It’s been a while since they had another brunch, but it was long-awaited. Today, a new face sits at the table with them.

“So sad Jennifer decided to move away, but we are glad we got you in the neighborhood now.”

“Thanks for having me,” Agnes replies with a shy smile, as she glances around at the other women. “It’s wonderful to have such nice and caring neighbors, my old neighborhood was so scandalous…”

“Scandalous?” Irene laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh dear, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

“Are you referring to the Winchester?” Tammy replies while stirring her tea. It’s been weeks since those men came and went, but it’s still everyone’s favorite topic of discussion.

“Don’t be silly, of course I mean the Winchesters!”

Beth releases a deep sigh. “I’ve heard they did it right in Dean’s fancy car after the party.”

“No, they threw Sam out of the house and then had sex in the bed Sam used to sleep in. How tasteless of them,” Sarah corrects her immediately.

“That can’t be.” It’s Tammy’s turn to speak now. “I saw him the next day with a blonde woman in front of the house”

“Guess he got over it quickly then,” some other woman giggles. “Have you seen the kid too? Sam can’t have been older than maybe 25 when he was born”

Agnes just smiles quietly, as she listens to the stories. She may not know the Winchesters, but they sure are entertaining as heck.

———————————————————————————————

Castiel becomes a Winchester on a sunny day in July.

It’s been months since the case that started their relationship, and they never spared another thought to those nosy neighbors. Dean suspects the rumors they started that night, but he couldn’t care less. Once the town disappeared from the Impala’s rearview mirror, none of them ever spared another thought to the neighborhood. Dean and Castiel couldn’t be happier, and that’s all that matters to them.

Jody invited all of them to her cabin at Lake Alvin, just outside of Sioux Falls. They are celebrating Claire’s graduation from college, and Dean couldn’t be prouder of the kid. He talks Cas into buying her the cheesiest greeting card they can find, paired with the most beautiful gun in the entire bunker. It’s got engravings all over and Dean even finds somebody who puts “C.N.” onto the side of it. He would rather have Claire live a normal life, but he knows it’s not going to happen.

It appears like everybody in the hunter community got the invitation: Sam and Eileen, Mary, Donna, the Banes twins, even Garth and Bess together with their kids. It’s not often hunters get to celebrate something, so everybody immediately jumped the opportunity. It’s a beautiful day, and at some point, Dean finds himself standing next to Claire.

“So, when you gonna put a ring on it?” she asks, nodding over to Castiel, who is chasing his little namesake all over the lawn in a playful game. Dean’s heart swells at the thought of this man being his husband. They hunt less and less these days, especially since Sam decided to move in with Eileen. It’s still a secret, but he and Cas recently bought a house in the same street as them. It might finally be time to leave the hunting life behind.

“There’s no rush,” Dean simply answers, trying his best not to settle on the thought. If he’d ever marry someone, it probably would be Cas. His eyes are still fixed on the laughing figure when Claire continues speaking.

“Whatever, old man. But if you ever want to tie the knot, just call me,” she says, shrugging with her shoulder. When Dean looks at her with a raised eyebrow, she continues. “I’m actually a licensed officiant, not that it would matter for you two anyways. Could marry you just like that –“

She snaps her fingers, before taking a gulp of her soda. Dean looks over to Cas again, his thoughts running in his head. What if…? The idea seems insane to him, but Claire seems to catch his thoughts. A smile breaks over her face: “Go ahead, dude. Just ask him.”

“Don’t want to steal your thunder, kid.”

“There would be no thunder without you,” she confesses, and Dean can’t help but pull her into a tight hug. He never expected to have kids, but he loves Claire just like his own blood. Her first weeks in college were rough, he remembers. But every time she came close to quitting, she’d call Dean. At this point, she’s just as much his kid as Jack, and he couldn’t be prouder of the people they’ve become.

When they step apart, Claire pulls a necklace from her neck. Two golden rings are connected on it, and Dean immediately knows who they belonged to.

“Here, this one should fit,” she says and presses the larger ring into his shaking hands. Dean mutters an honest thanks, smacking a gentle kiss on her forehead, before sprinting over the lawn.

“Hey Cas, can we talk for a moment?”

“You’re not dragging me into a closet again, are you?” Castiel laughs, but willingly follows his boyfriend a few feet away from the crowd.

“If I remember correctly, you rather enjoyed that…,” Dean counters with a grin, before kissing the angel gently. Cas is still smiling against his lips, and Dean pulls away with a deep breath.

“I have an idea…well, actually Claire had the idea, but I think it’s kinda awesome. And since everyone we love is already here, it would just be such a good opportunity and…”

“Dean,” Cas simply says, putting a stop to Dean’s blabbering.

“Will you marry me? Tonight? I know, you actually deserve a much better proposal and a wedding that doesn’t take place in flannel, but I love you so very very much”

Dean’s stammered words are silenced by a loving kiss. When they pull apart, Cas is smiling brighter than the sun.

“I’ve adored you ever since the moment I touched your soul in hell, of course, I’ll marry you”

The biggest smile flashes over Dean’s face, and Cas returns it just as much. A moment later, a loud shout draws their attention over to the cabin, where Claire is cheering in a way, that reminds them far too much of Dean. And when they tell everyone else, the mood just keeps going up.

It’s not a traditional wedding, but then again, their whole lives aren’t exactly normal. Jack insists on being the flower girl, even though Dean and Sam try their best to correct it to “flower-boy”. The music comes from a beaten-up boombox, which plays “November Rain” on repeat and the couple agrees not to exchange vows, deciding to wait with them until they can talk privately.

Dean’s hands shake when he slips the ring onto Castiel’s finger. It’s only now that he realizes they only got one ring, but before Dean can freak out, the angel pulls another golden band from his pocket.

“Where did you get that ring from?” Dean asks, and Cas casts a glance over to Jody, who is currently trying to stop crying. They barely knew her husband, and sometimes Dean still feels a pinch of guilt they couldn’t save him. The ring, he knows, is not only a final peace offering but an official invitation to the family. Dean shoots her a thankful smile, and she just nods in return.

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” Claire announces from the front, but the crowd remains luckily silent.

“We’ve been waiting for ages, no way we’re going to object now,” Sam shoots from the side, making everybody laugh. If Dean wasn’t close to bawling his eyes out, he’d probably throw a witty remark at his brother.

“Well then,” Claire says, clearly holding tears back herself. “I shall pronounce you officially hitched!”

Everyone cheers when Cas pulls Dean in a kiss, marking the beginning of a new chapter. The rest of the evening passes in a blur: they dance, they sing, Sam proposes to Eileen, Claire and Kaia finally get together, and Dean and Cas once again find themselves fooling around in a closet. But it’s perfect in every way.

Not every family contains of two parents and a bunch of kids. For them, family contains of two washed-up hunters, their time-traveling mom, a badass Irish huntress, a fallen angel, the devil’s son, and dozens of other people they got to know over the years. Bobby once told Dean, family don’t end in blood, but it doesn’t start there either.

And as Dean watches his happy and fucked-up family, his hand tightly holding onto his husband, he just knows truer words were never spoken.

#destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas fanfic #spn fanfic #spn fic

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Genneya Walton, #blackAF

Genneya Walton came to acting through a passion for dance and performance. Once on screen, she starred as Bryden Bandweth on Project Mc², as well as taking on roles in The Resident, 911, Criminal Minds, School of Rock, and Extent. Up next, Genneya will be playing the role of Chloe Barris, daughter to Rashida Jones and Kenya Barris, in his new mockumentary #blackAF. Loosely inspired by Barris’ irreverent and honest approach to parenting, relationships, race, and culture, #blackAF uncovers the messy and often hilarious world of the fictionalized Barris family. We had the opportunity to chat to Genneya about her character on the show, experiences on set, and what it means to be a young woman of color in the world of film and television. Check it out:

You wake up tomorrow as the character you play. What do you do first? 

If I were to wake up as Chloe, I would freak out first but I think that’s a given. Secondly, I’d go through her closet and try everything on because her style is incredible and I can only imagine what her full wardrobe looks like. 

In #blackAF, you have a lot of siblings. Do you have a large family IRL? If so, were there any similarities to your rapport with your on-set family? If no, did the experience make you glad or sad you don’t? 

In real life I only have one older sister -- far less than the 5 siblings I have on the show! My parents' style of raising kids is not at all the same as Kenya and Joya’s, so I can't say there are really any similarities between my real and tv family in that aspect. Although with both of them I am lucky to be able to share my honest thoughts and feelings with them even if it’s hard at times. Even though growing up I did want a baby brother, I wouldn’t want to change anything about how my family functions now, but it was definitely an experience to almost live another life in a household that’s run so differently. 

Describe the premise of #blackAF to a five-year-old? 

#blackAF is about a teenager that is filming her family’s everyday life to send in to her favorite college in hopes of getting in. With parents like ours and six kids, things can get crazy at our house. We act a little more “out there” than a typical family so I don’t think it would be appropriate for a five year old, but you can tell your parents to watch it ;) 

What’s the first thing that you remember being a fan of? 

The first thing I remember being a fan of is Barbie. It was one of my favorite toys growing up and the movies are actually what inspired me to perform. Second, I think it would be Usher’s Confessions album. I had no business singing his songs as a child, but those songs are certainly timeless! 

Can you tell us about a funny experience you had on the set of #blackAF? 

When you’re working with Kenya and Rashida something funny is bound to happen everyday. We had a moment of downtime on set and Kenya was showing off some dance moves and Rashida hopped in and it turned into an impromptu dance battle. All I’m gonna say is they both can do a mean robot. Certainly a sight to see and I’m happy to say I’ve witnessed it in my lifetime. 

You began your career dancing before you moved on to acting. Has dancing taught you any valuable lessons for your acting career? 

Dancing has certainly shaped who I am today and I’ve been able to apply those lessons to everyday life. I used to be the most sensitive person on the planet, and although I still have my moments, the tough love from teachers gave me a thicker skin that is necessary to have in this industry. Particularly from being a competitive dancer I learned the value of teamwork and trust. A scene is a collaboration, not a solo, and when you have a scene partner you have to put your full trust in that person in order to let go and be vulnerable. Also, in competition you can’t win them all, and that’s certainly the case with this industry, and I learned from a young age to come to terms with things not always going as planned and to push on and work harder. The long rehearsal hours and high expectations to perform well every time prepared me for work days on set that could sometimes be 14+ hours. All of the hard work that goes into finally performing a 2 minute dance piece is similar to the endless preparation before a new project only for the final cut to be x amount of minutes long and that’s all people get to see. After all it’s about the journey not the destination right? Being a dancer instilled a lot of important lessons within me and I owe my current position to dance aka my first love. 

Without spoiling anything, did you have a favorite scene in the show that was fun to shoot? 

While on vacation things got a little heated between Chloe and Drea and we really had the opportunity to take it there. Both Iman and I have sisters and were able to relate to our characters in that moment. We were both completely understanding of the situation and each other's emotions that it almost made it feel as though we were truly sharing that moment together as sisters. It was a special moment for myself and it definitely brought us closer. It was a very fun challenge and I’m so happy to have been able to share that with her and portray the ups and downs that siblings have. 

How do you embody the mission of #BlackExcellence365 in your everyday work? 

I think that black excellence is our drive and ability to go for, and accomplish the great things we do despite the boundaries that have been set in front of us. We have so much power within ourselves and such a great ability to impact lives. As a kid, I only had a handful of young women of color to look up to and I am grateful that they have paved the way for young actors like myself. I am now in the position to possibly be that for today’s young girls, and it is truly a dream and a huge responsibility that I am thrilled to take on. I hope to take part in roles that can positively impact and inspire young girls to be the best versions of themselves that they can be. Representation on screen is so important and the media has the ability to shape young minds. So far I've had the honor to play a past role of a teenage genius who is a master at coding and is not afraid to be herself or speak her mind. I now get to play a young adult who attends a great college and is setting up her future. Those characters within themselves are what I believe to be some great representations of black excellence and if they positively affect at least one person I am proud of that. I’d like it to be known that it took almost two years of being unemployed before I landed my current role. At times it was tough and I honestly had a fleeting moment where I considered giving up, but I kept pushing and would have never gotten to experience being Chloe if I didn’t hold faith in myself! As my career goes on, I intend on using my platform to be vocal about things that matter most to me and inspire and pave the way for those after me. This is all bigger than myself and each accomplishment and even failure on the way to success that we share is an embodiment of #blackexcellence. 

Do you have any advice for young women of color who are looking to get into the acting business? 

When wanting to accomplish anything in life it requires hard work, resilience, and genuine belief in yourself. You will get more no’s than yes’s, but you cannot let that discourage you. When you know you have something special to share with the world, you have to keep pushing on. I’d highly recommend surrounding yourself with people that are like minded so you can uplift and push each other towards your individual goals. An African Proverb that I think describes this well is, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” So finding a strong support system whether that be within your family or your friends, I personally find to be helpful during the journey. When things get tough it is easy to get lost or caught up in this all, but remember to stay grounded and true to yourself. There is no one else like you, and that alone holds so much power! 

Thanks for taking the time Genneya! #blackAF is now streaming on Netflix.

#entertainment spotlight #blackexcellence365 #genneya walton #blackaf

[marshmallow-phd]

Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary:  This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

                                            ********

The paper sliced across the skin before any action could be taken to avoid it. A high pitched hiss followed by a short whine. The flap of skin that had been separated was being dyed red. 

Gwen stuck her index finger in her mouth to sooth the stinging. It helped a little bit. Still sucking on the appendage, Gwen stumbled over to the supply closet and opened the thin metal doors with the other hand. She kept this feat up as she opened the first aid kit and pushed around the different types of bandages, trying to decide which one to use. The cut was right on the tip, right where you never want it to be. It was hard to get a band aid on that kind of cut. Eventually, she found a smaller version of a standard design and ripped the paper covering opening. She wrapped the band aid around her index finger before heading for her desk. It was back to the files that had injured her in the first place. 

The pile was tall; by her standards, at least. Gwen had been dealing with it for the past hour. The dates on the files needed sorting, separating the ones could be sent to long-term storage. She almost gave out another whine, but she didn’t want the others to hear and start the relentless teasing. Her coworkers were quick and very witty. 

It was a friendly floor. Everyone joked and played around without the fear of feelings being hurt. If Gwen didn’t have to do the actual work that came with the office space, she wouldn’t mind staying here forever. But dealing with these files and demanding customers and meeting quotas was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not that Gwen knew exactly what it was that she did want to do. She’d tried a lot of things over the last few years in her slow going college years. Marketing, history, education - hell, she even took several makeup courses and skincare lessons that focused on natural resources. None of it stuck, none of it held her interest, though the information could be recalled if needed. 

“You alright there, Gwen?”

Drudging up from the bowels of her thoughts, Gwen looked up at Kimberly, who had stopped at her desk on the way back from the printer. 

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded with a sigh. “Just… ready for the week to be over.”

“Ain’t that the consensus,” Kimberly laughed. 

“How are the dogs?” Gwen was seizing the opportunity to distract herself from work. Kimberly owned two dogs with opposite personalities. One was the well-mannered older brother, the other was the skittish, hyper younger brother. She loved to talk about them and there was never a shortage of entertaining stories. 

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Kurt is back to back to demanding his breakfast at five a.m. Oh, but Kent now does this thing where he walks backwards. Whenever he starts doing that, we’ll beep at him. You know, like the garbage trucks? Then he gets all shy and hides his head.”

Gwen couldn’t stop giggling at the thought. “Oh, the poor thing!”

“You’ll have to see it next time you come over.”

“I can’t wait.”

As Kimberly walked away, Gwen sighed. She didn’t get out too much and the humor that most of her socializing outside of work was with one of her coworkers wasn’t lost on her. Just another dart to throw at the board that was Gwen Sinclair. 

It wasn’t like her life was a complete disaster. Really, it could have been worse. She could imagine a thousand different scenarios that she could be living right now that were worse off then her current situation. Truthfully, if glanced at from the outside, Gwen’s life was simply... mediocre. She was blessed with tolerable roommates, an okay job that provided a nice paycheck for a twenty-three-year-old who had yet to finish college. But… the loneliness was killing her and overall, she was craving for something more. 

She was exhausted from obligation and responsibility. She wished to go back to the days where she read about adventure and intrigue and imagined some day living that out herself. After having those words in her hands, she felt empty in her reality. Somehow, each day felt even more draining. 

With the end of another workday, Gwen packed up the files that still needed to be sorted, locked up her cabinets and tugged on her coat as she waved goodbye to Kimberly and the others. A few other coworkers were chatting excitedly about the solar eclipse happening in a few minutes. Gwen, however, was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that all anyone - online or in person - could talk about was the solar eclipse, as if it was the only one that had ever been seen in this generation. When one person mentioned the eclipse, it was fine. When it was every post and every comment and every conversation, it felt a little ridiculous. Gwen couldn’t care less about the event. Getting home was her current priority. But escaping wasn’t that easy. 

For the millionth time, Gwen rolled her eyes as she scrolled through the newsfeed, waiting for her car to warm up in the parking garage. The weather was cold and dreary, slowing down her progress on getting home. Puffs of steam escaped her lips in the below freezing temperature. Other employees hurried past the back of her car to get to their own tiny sanctuaries. An alert for a new email popped up at the top of the phone screen. From the quick scan of the notification, she saw that it was from her eastern history professor. He wanted to go over the latest paper from class. Oh, no. That was never a good sign. 

Gwen huffed, threw her car into reverse, and pulled out of the parking space. First the papercut, now this. 

Since all her classes were online, Gwen had the minor luxury to not be forced to talk to her professor face to face, which surely would have been humiliating. But it couldn’t be avoided completely. She’d email him back once she arrived home. Or maybe she’d put it off until tomorrow. Dealing with this was the last thing she wanted to do. Stress was already causing her skin to revert back to puberty, she didn’t need this as well. 

Her phone rang and she struggled to answer it while carefully winding down the levels of the garage. It was Jaynie, the favorite of the roommates.

“Hey, Janie, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you were coming straight home today.”

Gwen smirked, knowing exactly where this was going. 

Over the past several months, a bit of an obsession had developed with Korean dramas. The shows the two of them consumed were different from the same old, boring American television and there were years worth of stories to choose from. Currently, they were in the middle of another romantic comedy. While Gwen loved the storyline and was in a constant state of swoon, as soon as the credits started rolling, she was reminded how pathetically uninteresting her life was. But those sixty plus minutes of pure escapism made it all worth the crash that came afterwards. 

Gwen tried to wait patiently in the line to leave the parking garage, but her frustration was getting the better of her. It was stop and go, stop and go, stop and go.

“I’m planning on it. That is, if people decide any day now to not drive idiotically.”

“Ugh, I had the same problem on my way home.” 

Curious. Both of them worked in the downtown area. “How did you get home so fast?” Gwen asked.

“I got off a little early today.”

“Lucky.” Her accounting job often led to flexible hours. Gwen was jealous of that level of freedom. 

The road was slick from the freezing rain. Weather like this brought out all the stupid drivers as if this wasn’t a yearly occurrence. She was careful to look both ways before exiting the garage and inching into the street. What she didn’t account for was the other emptying lot across the street. A large black SUV pulled out right at the same time, but went too fast, hitting the water that was slowly turning to ice on the asphalt. 

With no time to react, the SUV slammed into the side of Gwen’s compact car. Glass from the driver’s side window shattered and sprayed her face. Her phone flew out of her hand. The crunch of metal hit her ears before she could fully process what had happened. With the force of the collision, her forehead slammed against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. The sound of screams echoed around her, but the words were unintelligible. Slumped over in her seat, a shadow creeped over the scene. Through the slits of her barely open eyes, Gwen watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. Then all went black. 

                                           ********

The water was what brought her back. It filled her lungs and surrounded her on all sides. She flailed her limbs, desperate for traction that couldn’t be found. Her clothing weighed her down, the hems being pulled as if hands had gripped tight on them. She needed a miracle. And a miracle she got. Two hands held onto one of her wrists and pulled her to the surface. 

She gasped for air as her rescuer struggled to bring her to shore. The cloth that covered her felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, making it nearly impossible to move. Water made its way up her throat, spilling over her lips. Her lungs were finally clear. They took in as much oxygen as they were allowed, burning with each brath. 

“Lady Gwen! Lady Gwen!”

A young girl blocked out the bright sun. She shook Gwen’s shoulders desperately. 

Gwen’s brain processed that the girl was not speaking English, but… she could understand her. The girl’s damp, dark hair was pulled into halves on either side of her face held in place by wide red straps. She looked at Gwen with deep concern, like a lifelong friend. But Gwen was sure she had never seen this girl before in her life. 

“My Lady, can you hear me?” she asked frantically.

“Who are you?” Gwen finally choked out. 

That made the girl pause in her panic. “What?”

Slowly regaining her strength, Gwen pushed herself up to her knees. As her eyesight cleared, she took in her surroundings. Gone were the tall metal and glass buildings, traffic lights, and speeding cars of her modern home. Now all that surrounded her were trees and a sandy beach of a large, calm lake. In the distance, wooden houses with curved rooftops, painted in bright reds and greens dotted the horizon. The heaviness that weighed her down was a dress made of too many layers and of no western fashion that she’d ever experienced before. 

Whispers bounced around the rocky shore. All the faces that were looking on with concern around were unfamiliar. Gwen grabbed the hair cascading down her back, but it was still the red she knew, darker from the dampness of being pulled out of the water but still her hair. 

“Where am I?” she asked in a quiet, gasping voice.

“My Lady, don’t you remember?” The girl panicked. “You’re in Songak. Goryeo.”

“Goryeo?” Gwen screeched. All the minor details she could summon up of the country came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It was information overload and her brain couldn’t handle it. Her lungs tried desperately to keep up, breathing in as much air as they could, but her throat was closing up from the panic. The landscape blurred and she fell to the ground.

                                          ********

She was in a bed this time when she regained consciousness. The room was cold and dimly lit with soft, orange candlelight. A man, Caucasian unlike the others, sat beside the bed on a stool, worry etched into every facet of his face.

“Gwen, sweet, are you all right?”

English. He was speaking English. But that was a footnote of comfort to the bigger problem. She still didn’t know what had happened to her or how she got here or who these people were that seemed to know her. The man, who was about in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, smiled down at her, though his eyes were confused. “Gwen, does it hurt anywhere? Can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Gwen took a moment, to calm down and to evaluate what she was feeling physically. Her head didn’t hurt, nor did any other part of her body. Wordlessly, she shook her head. The man seemed relieved. 

“Are you all right?” He asked again, a different meaning under the question this time. “Chae Ryung said you couldn’t remember her or that we were in Goryeo? Do you at least remember your papa?”

Gwen weighed the choices in her mind. There wasn’t a mirror around, but she started to wonder if she had taken the place of someone else. Someone who knew these strangers. She could say that she didn’t know any of them - the truth - but would they think her mad if she spilled too much? Perhaps she could say she remembered a few things. Like him, if he is this poor girl’s father. Why am I here? In this time? 

Choosing to comprise with herself, she gave the smallest of nods. “Papa.” Sitting up, she pulled him into a hug and there was something comforting about his embrace. This body remembered him, at least. 

“What happened?” she asked after she let go. 

“Chae Ryung said that you’d wandered off again and she found you, you’d been the water a long time.” The man, Papa, sucked in a breath, his eyes beginning to water. His genuine concern over her wellbeing made Gwen choke up as well. “The doctor said you stopped breathing. That could explain your lost memories.”

Good. The excuse was already in her hands. That should make it easy enough to play along while being forgiven for any missteps. But they shouldn’t be in Goryeo. That didn’t make any sense, historically. If anything, they might have been in Joseon – late Joseon. Was this some sort of alternate timeline? Or maybe she hit her head really hard in the car crash and this is really all a dream from the stress of her paper and too much K-drama. 

Yes. Too much K-drama.

That had to be the explanation. This was all a strange dream. Which meant, she could play along and not be afraid. She could ask questions and live out the day until she woke back up in her own time, most likely in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her mother fretting over her. 

She glanced around the room, taking in the architecture that she had only ever seen in pictures. In person, it was even more stunning and intricate. This wasn’t an ordinary citizen’s home. Interesting. What else could her brain come up with? “Why are we in Goryeo?”

“Your father’s a merchant, remember?” He spoke slowly. Each word was deliberate, giving Gwen time to process. Good filler for her mind. “I made a large fortune here and planned on taking you back home, but… your mother is buried here. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

A wave of emotion hit out of nowhere. Though her mother was alive and well, it didn’t stop a tear from escaping. “Mama.”

Papa wiped it away with a coarse finger. Gwen gasped back, surprised by the realness of the touch. Her dreams were never this intricate. The blanket strone across her lap scrunched in her fingers. It was cold and soft… and very real. 

She wasn't dreaming, was she?

Confused by her reaction, Papa paused for a moment before continuing his explanation. “The eighth prince is graciously letting us stay with him while we wait on the construction of our home to be complete.”

The eighth prince?

Panic grew tenfold. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was in very big trouble. If history told her one thing, it was that proximity to royalty was the most dangerous place to be. Gwen might possibly have been able to skate by if they were simply staying in some unknown village far from the capital, but they were in a prince’s home. Which meant they were in… Songak, the capital city, just like that girl – Chae Ryung – had said. Right under the King’s nose. Breathing became difficult again. Each one was shallow, barely letting in any oxygen. Gwen could feel her chest tighten and her vision blurred. 

“Gwen!” Papa jumped up and tried to keep her straight to give her lungs as much room as possible. He switched to Korean as he called out over his shoulder, “Someone, get the doctor! Now!” Shuffling sounds echoed off the floor on the other side of the sliding door and then faded away.

A minute later, breathing no better, two men and a woman rushed inside along with Chae Ryung. The older man stepped in front of Papa and took his place. He pushed Gwen’s shoulders gently until she was lying down. Two cold fingers against her wrist checked her pulse. The other, much younger man stepped up to Papa.

“What happened?”

Papa frowned. “It seems she’s lost some of her memories. I was explaining why we were here when suddenly she had trouble breathing.” He stopped, struggling with his own breath. “I’m sorry we’ve become a burden to you, Your Highness.” 

Gwen’s breathing was regaining strength and she was able to concentrate on the conversation. So that was the eighth prince. He was younger than she would have guessed, handsome even, if she had to focus on something other than her lack of breath. 

“Do not think such a thing,” the Eighth Prince replied. “Your presence has greatly improved the household. Lady Gwen will get better with time.”

Papa bowed, obviously grateful at the response. He turned to the woman. “Lady Hae, may I enquire after your own health?”

“Today is a better day,” she smiled, though her pale, drained complexion said otherwise. “Please, don’t worry about me. Keep your thoughts for your daughter.”

The doctor released Gwen’s wrist, satisfied with the improvement of her pulse and breathing. He stood up.

“It was a mild panic attack,” the doctor said calmly to Papa. “If it happens again, she should lie down and focus on her breathing. The incident at the lake seems to have taken a toll on her body. She simply needs rest. In time, her memories and her body will recover.”

Gwen didn’t agree with that statement fully. This body might get better in time, but there was no way memories that didn’t exist would ever return. One by one, the occupants left the room until it was only Gwen and Papa remaining behind. Silence hung in the air. After a moment, Papa sat down on the stool and took Gwen’s hand. 

“I was worried I had lost you,” he whispered. 

Gwen’s eyes fell down to the blanket covering her legs. Things were becoming clearer to her now. This was not a dream and she was no longer Gwen Sinclair from the twenty-first century. Something must have happened. She didn’t know what exactly had occurred or what would happen now, but she was here. And little did this man – known only to her as “Papa” – know that he had indeed lost his daughter. The face may be the same, but the Gwen inside was different. She would try her best to be good to him, at least until she found a way to get back to her own family. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

                                          ********

The next morning, the doctor, along with the Eighth Prince, came back to check on Gwen. The doctor commented that her pulse was stronger and that she seemed well on the road to full health. However, he still insisted on keeping her on bedrest.

Bored with these same walls and too curious about her temporary home, Gwen sat up. If she was going to be here for a while, she might as well get to know it. “I’m fine. Please, don’t make me stay in here all day. The sun and air is good for you, isn’t it?”

The sudden rebelliousness against the doctor’s suggestion did not seem to sit well with any of them. Gwen gave Papa a pleading look. A father couldn’t resist those eyes. He sighed, turning to the doctor. “Perhaps, a little exercise in walking around the grounds would be all right?”

The doctor looked reluctant, but he agreed. “But she shouldn’t overexert herself.”

“Chae Ryung will stay with her,” the Eighth prince ordered. “If you’ll please excuse me, I must meet with my brothers.” He bowed and left, followed by the doctor.

Having heard her name from the hallway, Chae Ryung shuffled quickly inside and over to Gwen, holding out her arms for the latter to balance on as she slid off of the bed. “Are you sure you want to go outside?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. Perhaps seeing more of this place will help jog my memory.”

Chae Ryung tilted her head. “How can your memory jog?”

Gwen snorted, both at Chae Ryung’s confusion and at herself for the slip of the modern phrase. “Sorry, I just meant, maybe my memories will come back.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was enough to make Gwen laugh again. 

Gwen scolded herself internally. She had to be more careful with her words. Every step was one on thin ice. She couldn’t change who she was, not completely, but she would have to pull back. Chae Ryung, however, felt safe, like a shelter from the rain. With her, Gwen could find answers that might be dangerous to seek elsewhere. Straightening her shoulders, Gwen smiled broadly and took her newest friend’s hand. Chase Ryung grinned brightly at her and guided her out of the room.

#exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #scarlet heart au #scarlet heart ryeo #exo time travel au #exo time travel!au #exo angst #exo series #exo x oc #exo x original character #exo ot9 #Scarlet Moon

[aliensandartifacts]

“Head’s up, teach!” Mel barely had time to turn before an amethyst geode came her way, lobbed gently from Cade’s hands. She caught it easily and placed it on the shelf where she wanted to use it as a bookend for the few volumes she had on stone identification. “You know, saying that ***before*** you throw things at me might be a better idea, Cade.” Mel turned and looked over her shoulder and gave him *the look* that he knew well. It got her a laugh and a cheeky wink. “Unless you are wanting to get in another wrestling match with Gabe. I know you two boys just love trying to knock one another out.”

“I’m up for a rematch. What about you?” Gabe turned and gave Cade a shit eating grin before putting more books on the shelf as they got Mel’s office ready for the new semester that she’d be teaching. He had to admit, none of his professors had ever had an office like this. Then again, none of his professors in college had ever looked like Mel.

“I’m not the one that ended up with the cracked rib. What do I care?” Cade winked at Mel who was now getting something out of the box next to him as he moved a new one up to her desk since she’d emptied the last one he’d put there for her. He wouldn’t add that he’d had to fight limping for almost a week due to his knee. Getting yelled at once had been enough.

“I don’t care but if you have more cracked ribs,” first she rolled her eyes at Gabe then shot a pointed look at Cade, “or injured knees,” she gave him a sarcastic smile to let him know that he fooled no one and loved the look he got on his face from it. “I will let my brothers heal you and I can tell you that if they do it while you’re awake and VERY slowly, it’s not fun. Besides, I think I’m due for another training session with both of you.” She heard dueling groans from behind her, and grinned as she put artifacts from past digs up on shelves where she wanted them. “I thought I heard that you were the fun professor? Can you be the fun boss too? Let Beau be the crabby and mean one?” Gabe teased and gave her a boyish grin when she turned around feigning insult. “Or are you hoping we’ll bribe you with exotic chocolate and coffee? That’s what it is, isn’t it? You want us to worship you as a princess.” He palmed two round artifacts of some kind and walked over towards where she had gotten up on a step stool and had her hands out for them. “Your rocks, my liege…” He bowed and extended his arms up over his head towards her. “Oh dear lawd, you two are going to drive me to day drink.” Mel laughed as she took the two fossils and put them up on a high shelf. They were real and she didn’t want to chance them getting knocked off. Some of what she had in her office were reproductions, the originals being of cultural significance to the location that they were found in. There were a few that the local governments had allowed her to keep for various reasons and she always honored and protected those. When it came to things in her office, it was all above board and legal. She would never chance her new position back at LSU, or compromise the reputation of the school. It was the items that held magical and mystical powers where she broke local, state, and international laws like glow sticks at a rave. Those items were the ones that would never see LSU, or even Louisiana most likely. They were the ones that she and her team handled covertly.

“Day drinking is part of the culture, belle.” Cade winked at her as he crossed over to where she was with more items for her to place on shelves. “What kind of Cajun boy would I be if I didn’t drive you to do it? Mint juleps in the afternoon after mimosas for breakfast. Cherie, I must uphold my reputation as a good Creole.” He gave her a roguish grin and handed her a couple things that looked like they’d break if he tossed them to her. “Let’s get this stuff done so we can go do a boil out at your house tonight before we have to beat the mosquitoes off with tennis rackets.” The trio laughed and worked together to empty the rest of the boxes that they’d brought up to her office. Things had changed for Mel and her bodyguards since moving up to Baton Rouge from the family estate in Darrow where she had been staying since returning to Louisiana. On the weekends, they were still going back to Darrow or New Orleans, where Alexander and Beau were living in the house in the Garden District. The “new normal” for Mel was anything but what most people would call *normal*; however there was a comfort to it that she would be hard pressed to explain to those who were not living it with her. The two men in the room seemed not to have any problems with their routine.

She was currently running La Hérisson with Beau, hunting mystical and magical artifacts with Beau and Alexander, and preparing to return full time to teaching at LSU. Saying her life was full would be an understatement. Mel rarely had a spare moment, something she was grateful for most days. Too much free time gave her time to analyze things, and that activity normally brought with it memories. During those times when she didn’t have something planned, she headed to the beaches of Long Beach, MS and the home and boat that she owned there as well. Rarely was she still if she could avoid it, dragging at least both of her bodyguards along with her. Through it all, Cade and Gabe were there to make sure that there was not a repeat of the event that led to her being in the grips of Ambrose and Adama. Both of the men who had previously held her captive still had associates who would want to exploit her LaVeau blood now that it was no longer a secret.

When it came to the three of them, they had become a team. When school started, Gabe and Cade would take turns with who would be on campus while Mel was. To keep the school from being too nervous, they would keep to the shadows and do a lot of electronic surveillance, while not being so far from her that they would be unable to be there in seconds. It wasn’t the roomiest, but there was a storage closet down the hall from her office where she had been able to convince Dwayne to allow her to setup a small desk for one bodyguard to be able to keep watch. With the story of the kidnapping and now Ambrose and Dominic missing, he had agreed immediately to let her do it. She was at least thankful for that.

Soon it would be time to walk back into the classroom, and that actually made her less nervous than anything that she had done so far since returning *home*. When she was in front of students it was like she was an actor on stage. She put on her *teacher face* and it was an act. When in her office and not working on grading assignments, she was preparing for her lectures and classes, so by the time she walked in front of students, it was all memorized and rote. Sometimes she was giving the same lecture multiple times in a day or week. It didn’t hurt that she loved what she was talking about, so even tangents were easy for her to handle. Cade or Gabe would be sitting in the back of the lecture halls and classrooms, dressed casually and blending into the background as best as they could. They would obviously be older than the students, but all were used to returning students or other professors auditing a class. They would mostly go unnoticed. Females would definitely notice them.

Everything found a place on the shelves, the few side tables, or Mel’s desk. Some might find her office cluttered, but the eclectic mix of artifacts, geodes, fossils, and fandom pieces made her office feel perfect to her. It was filled with pieces there were uniquely and distinctly *Mel*. Standing by the door, she linked arms with her two bodyguards who were so much more, they were truly friends and meant the world to her. Through everything on Grand Bahama and back in Louisiana, they had helped her keep her sanity and more. When the semester started, they would once more help her move forward with her life at LSU while her family and other friends were keeping the other parts of her life moving forward as well. She was back and defining life on her terms. It was not the life that she had before the Memorial Day ball the year before, but it was one that she was ready to face head on. This was her life and she was going to live it with no apologies and no fears. Time to reclaim it all.

@talamasca74

@voodoobodyguards

#NerdsOfAFeather #MelaniaLaVeau #GabeBlackwell #CadeBoudalet #LSULife #BounceBack

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Observation.

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Mini!Yandere!OC/Mini!Reader. 

Synopsis: It’s like being the pet of a pet. Shrunken down, trapped, and isolated… There are worse things you could do than keep your head down and try to play happy-family.

TW: Shrinking, Violence, Imprisonment, Gaslighting and Mentions of Kidnapping. 

“It gets better, after a few days.”

His voice was calm, laced with an unidentifiable accent and heavy with a calm, complacent undertone, the kind you’d expect from someone talking to an old friend rather than another hostage. You’d only been awake for an hour or two, but if he was going to panic, he didn’t seem to have any intention of doing so in front of you. Rather, he’d just greeted you and offered an insincere apology before helping you to your feet, spurring you on with promises of tea and explanations, both of which he seemed in no particular rush to provide.

The strangeness of your current state seemed obvious, by now, even if it didn’t really make sense. Your host was normal, a man of few words and tan skin with the barest hints of a spiraling tattoo peeking out from just beneath his sleeves, but he was the only normal thing you’d seen so far. The kitchen table was too low, pushing against the tops of your knees, but your chair was too high, the soles of your feet barely able to touch the ground. The empty vase on the nearest counter was ornate, but plastic, the cheap, overly-decorated sort of thing you’d decorate a playroom with. Most of the cabinets were false, but the few that weren’t contained plates too thick and too wide, cups that were just too small to be held comfortably, silverware that didn’t feel right in your hands. They were tools for toys, faux-commodities for dolls that didn’t need to really use them.

Things for people like you, now.

You crossed your arms on the smooth tabletop, staring down at your hands. Trying to see if anything about you was different, as you spoke. “I don’t know how you can say that.”

“It does,” He assured, making no exceptional attempt to sound any more convincing than he cared to be. “The headache will start to fade with a little sleep, and you get used to making do. We have a lot, but there’s always something missing.” He paused, chucking under his breath, as if the minor inconvenience was his own, personal joke. “I think he does it on purpose. To ‘simulate the difficulties of real-life’, or whatever excuse he wants to use to explain why I’ve been doing laundry by-hand for the past year and a half.”

You stiffened at the mention of your kidnapper, the person who forced you into  their little fucked-up experiment. The details of your abduction were blurry, a nonlinear series of pricks to your arm and nonsensical threats you couldn’t quite remember, but you didn’t push yourself to recall much else. You had a feeling you wouldn’t like anything you managed to dredge up. If someone had the capability to make you into something so small, something so helpless, and the apathy to put you on display like a prized pet… You weren’t sure they’d be nice enough to make the transformation as painless as you’d hope.

“I don’t live here,” You mumbled, more to yourself than to him, although the stranger saw fit to hum in response to the admission. “In this town, I mean. I just moved here for a job - I didn’t even really want to, but I needed the money. They set me up with an apartment and everything.” A kettle whistled, and he nodded sympathetically. He didn’t turn to face you. “I didn’t even get to see it, not before I got… shrunk, or whatever.”

“New faces make the most convenient targets. If no one knows you, no one can look for you. Everyone you used to know is too far to do any good.” You sink into your seat. Somehow, his words of comfort did little to inspire much hope. “I think I was a tourist. I was passing through, stopping at a bar, and then--” He clicked his tongue, waving in some vague, dismissive gesture. “--this.”

You frowned, biting the side of your cheek. “Were you scared?”

At that, he glanced over his shoulder, sending you a loose, careless smile. You attempted to return it as he pulled a mug from the nearest drawer, preparing a still-boiling drink with the idle concentration of someone who’d done this a thousand times before. “At first, but as I said, it gets easier. You never get used to it, but the homesickness fades, and you find ways to keep yourself occupied. The only thing that’s changed is your size.” Your shoulders slumped, your attention quickly drifting back to your own self-pity, but a sturdy hand came to rest on your shoulder before you could start to spiral. “You’re not alone, either. You have me, and we will get you through this. In the meantime, drink.” A mug was delicately placed in front of you, the handle just a little too thick to hold comfortably. “It’ll help with the nausea. You’ll feel better once you clear your head.”

You only leaned back, letting him rub slow, soothing circles into your back as you lifted the mug to your lips and took a sip, if only to see the way his smile seemed to grow.

~

By the sixth day, you’d come to terms with the fact that you were, undoubtedly, in a dollhouse.

The layout was massive, but easy to navigate. The building was split down the middle by a spiraling staircase, the dizzying structure decorated with halls in either direction, all leading to bedrooms or bathrooms or spaces so sickeningly domestic, you’d come to think of the kitchen as a neutral zone. Most were unused. Leon’s (he’d introduced himself properly later on that night, once you were stable enough to ask) bedroom was tucked into a corner of the ground-floor, but there were signs of life everywhere. An empty cup left in an otherwise unoccupied parlor, a book abandoned halfway through, little things, but things Leon didn’t seem like the type to overlook.

The only aspects of the house that hadn’t been tampered with were the industrial-style security cameras, each protected by a metal box and a colorful array of warnings, and one of the spare rooms on the top floor, this one covered floor to ceiling with pastel colors and stuffed animals, things for someone much, much younger than you or the home’s only other occupant. You didn’t try to investigate further. There’d been a camera in that room, too, and if your captor saw you looking around, they might’ve assumed you were curious about...

You’d moved on quickly. That’s all that mattered.

None of the doors had locks, either. You’d only found two so far, a row of deadbolts on the symbolic front-door and a padlock on the basement, both of which seemed to be later additions. Currently, you were lingering near the latter, unsure if you should persist and risk the wrath of your all-seeing voyeur or leave it alone, live to dwell in paranoid anxiety for another day. A part of you was scared, honestly. Nothing else had to be locked away, hidden behind a bolted door, and if there was something you weren’t supposed to see, you weren’t sure you wanted to. If it was Leon’s secret, you couldn’t--

You never got to reach a conclusion. Without warning, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against a broad chest and pretending not to notice how quickly you went rigid. There was a laugh, a playful squeeze to your hip, and just as quickly as you were restrained, you were let go, forced to turn around and meet the dark eyes of your only companion. Leon was like he always was, cheerful and much too enthusiastic, despite neither emotion having an obvious motivation. Still, you fell into it quickly, attempting to mirror his joy. It was the least you could do, considering how kind he’d been, over the past few days. “I didn’t realize you were up,” He explained. “It’s still strange to have another person here. I wasn’t--”

Suddenly, he stopped, pursing his lips and scanning over you. His eyes never managed to rise above your neckline, though. “What do you think you’re wearing?”

It took you a moment to process the question. There was a closet full of clothes in the room you’d picked out, but you’d managed to avoid them, so far. Every piece was stiff, unyielding to shame or preferences, and the color scheme was akin to something you’d see in an ancient sitcom. It was a futile progression to dread, and yet, you planned on putting it off for as long as possible.

Judging by Leon’s expression, ‘as long as possible’ wasn’t for much longer.

“I didn’t want to change,” You admitted, a hand absentmindedly drifting to your wrinkled shirt, smoothing over the thin fabric. “It just feels… I didn’t want to, alright? Is something wrong with that?”

That earned a scowl. It took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to step back. “I left something out for you.”

You’d woken up to a pale-pink monstrosity laid out on the foot of your bed, still on a hanger. It’d been disregarded without a second thought. “I didn’t realize,” You mumbled, bowing your head just enough to seem apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal… Does it matter?”

His scowl deepened, grew, but just as quickly as it’d come, Leon found a way so cover it up. It was there, but a second later, it wasn’t, an expression of disappointed sympathy sewing itself seamlessly into his features. With a gentle, patronizing sigh, he pulled you into another hug, choosing once again to ignore the gesture’s one-sided nature. “It does, angel, but we’ll make an exception this time, alright? When I do something thoughtful, you’re supposed to show me you appreciate it. That’s how this is supposed to work.”

You opened your mouth, thinking for a moment before closing it again. Suddenly, you were glad he couldn’t see your face. The concern slowly infecting it would’ve been… worrying, and you weren’t sure if you could think of an unimportant agitation to explain it away. “The basement,” You said, instead. “Do you have the key?”

“Don’t ask silly questions.” Leon pulled back, tapping the tip of your nose with his index finger. “Hopefully, that door will stay locked. I don’t see a reason either of us should have to go someplace so unpleasant.”

You nodded, and Leon took you by the hand, wordlessly guiding you back towards the center of the house, towards the spiraling staircase and towards your bedroom, where his selected outfit was still waiting, sprawled out over your comforter.

This time, you didn’t argue when he told you to put it on.

~

He waited three weeks to start sleeping in your bed.

It might’ve been an impulsive decision, on his part. It felt impulsive to you. One moment, you were huddled underneath thin sheets, just beginning to close your eyes and welcome the darkness, and the next you were wide awake, terrified and paralyzed as your mattress dipped, creaking as Leon moved onto it. If he cared that you were awake, he didn’t make an effort to show it, only sliding under your sheets and throwing an arm over your waist, holding you with a practiced intimacy, an undeserved intimacy. The kind of closeness you didn’t want any part in.

“Leon,” You mumbled, much too quietly to be taken seriously. As if there was anyone else you should be afraid of waking up. “Are you alright? Why--”

“Hush, now.” His voice was low, but not tired. Perfectly awake. Perfectly aware. More of a half-hearted threat and a command made out of fatigued necessity. “Sleep, sweetheart. Don’t ask questions.”

He closed his eyes, his forehead coming to rest against the nape of your neck. You didn’t.

~

“I see you're fond of your new companion”

Elias didn’t make an effort to pose the sentiment gently. He seemed bored, if anything, his chin resting on his fist as he stared down at you and Leon, seemingly numb to the oddity of talking to two people that barely measured up to his thumb. He’d been generous enough to let out of the dollhouse for - as Leon affectionately put it -  the ‘monthly check-in’, or… onto the table it rested on, at least.

It was disorienting, seeing the space that surrounded your world, all bare walls and scientific instruments you couldn’t identify, sterile but cluttered, like an unused room in a very lived-in home. Elias was nothing special, either, not the ominous, foreboding figure you’d imagined. He seemed average, if anything, a pair of black glasses and a head of unruly hair making for a rather unimposing figure. A captor, but not an intimidating one. A man with a hobby that just so happened to need a few unwilling volunteers.

Of course, that didn’t stop you from shrinking into Leon’s side when his gaze shifted towards you.

“They’re good company,” Leon answered, his composure never wavering. Why would it? He’d done this a thousand times before, and as far as you knew, he and Elias got along. As well as a captor and their captive could, anyway. “To tell the truth, I’m starting to think I’ve been here too long. I was almost glad this one wasn’t so stubborn, after last time.”

You felt your throat go dry. “Last time?”

“I don’t want to have to deal with another incident,” Elias warned, brushing off your question as if it’d never been asked. “You got along with your other roommates too, at first. Everything’s wonderful and terrific and perfect, until I come to check on you and find one less participant than I should.” He pursed his lips, shaking his head as he let out a noise of frustration. “I can move (Y/n) to another enclosure if this isn’t going to work. I don’t want to lose resources because you don’t get along with them.”

Leon gasped, pressing a palm to his heart in a show of betrayal. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a joke or distract you from the topic at hand. “I’ve never done anything that wasn’t necessary. You told me to take care of my home, and I am. I shouldn’t have to suffer because you have poor taste.” Elias rolled his eyes, and Leon laughed, slumping against you, intertwining his fingers with yours mindlessly. “You picked a timid one, and they’re coming along nicely. I don’t plan to waste such a rare opportunity.”

“Are you sure?” Elias asked, leaning back in his chair and fishing for something on the floor at his feet. A notepad, but you couldn’t make out what was written on it. “I’d hate to disagree, but your track-record says otherwise. I’m patient, but I do have my limits, Leon.” 

He glanced towards you for the first time since the start of their conversation, keeping you in the corner of his eye. “(Y/n)’s going to behave.”

You didn’t know whether or not you should correct him.

~

You should’ve corrected him.

“No,” You spat, not bothering to hide your disgust. It was a terrible feeling, a vile sense of wrong, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be surprised. Everything about Leon was telling, from the grimace pressed into his lips to the anger in his eyes, bright and fiery and terrible. Unconsciously, you pressed yourself against the tiled wall, gripping your towel a little tighter. It was the only barrier between him and you, and by god, you weren’t going to give it up. “Get away from me. Don’t touch me.”

“You’re being irrational,” He said, crossing his arms and taking a step closer. You considered making a run for the bathroom door, but you doubted you’d be able to reach it before he reacted, catching you and doing something worse than staring you down. “Couples bathe together. It’s normal, you’re just--”

“We’re not a couple!” It was the first time you’d yelled at him, the first time you raised your voice, and Leon didn’t try to hide his offense. He edged closer, but you were quick to press yourself against the wall, to bare your teeth and try to make it clear he couldn’t intimidate you just by existing. Not again. “We’re captives. We were kidnapped, I was kidnapped, you were kidnapped. You can’t keep acting like this is normal, and you can’t expect me to. I’m not just going to sit back and play nice while you--”

“I don’t think I like your tone,” He warned, his eyes narrowing. The shower was still running, hot steam beginning to fill the room, but Leon didn’t seem to feel the need to turn it off. You’d barely had time to cover yourself before he came in, your hair and your skin still dripping, but you were glad you had. If only to protect the few traces of dignity you had left. “Stop,” He ordered, grimly. “You’re going to say something you regret.”

That was your sign to back down. That you should give him what he wanted, or at the very least, do your damnedest to make sure you weren’t the reason he didn’t get it. When he stopped trying to patronize you, it meant he was mad. And when he was mad…

You tried not to think about what happened when Leon got mad.

You should’ve backed down, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to let him have his way. “You don’t even want to get out of here, do you?”

Grit teeth. A locked jaw. Your second warning. “You shouldn’t--”

“I shouldn’t ask questions?” You cut him off without hesitation. “What do you not want me to ask? What are you so scared of my finding out? That you like feeling powerful? That you want to be in control? You can’t lie to me, I’m the one that has to deal with you. All your rules and your comfort and your fucking clothes.” You forced yourself to stop, to take a breath and seek out the same composure Leon was so good at maintaining. He took the chance to make his argument.

“You’ve been here for a month, I’ve been here for nineteen. You don’t know what it’s like when Elias doesn’t get his way. You haven’t had to deal with that because I’m helping you.” Another step. He was practically breathing down your throat, now. “You should be grateful.”

But, you didn’t want to be grateful. You wanted Leon to stop acting like you should be.

You swallowed, letting the silence grow tense before you broke it. “Someone was here before me.” He made no move to interrupt. You persisted. “What happened last time?”

He flinched, and made no attempt to hide it. You didn’t need another warning.

You lunged to the side, aiming blindly for the door, a weapon, anything that could help you escape or fight or act. Leon was faster than you, though, and much more practiced. A fist closed around your shoulder, blunt nails tearing into your skin, and just as swiftly, a heel found its way to the back of your knee, sending you crashing to the ground, something in your ankle cracking as you collapsed. You were slammed into the unforgiving floor, your cheek soon pressed against the cool surface and Leon’s body bent around yours, his weight and his strength keeping you pinned down. Weakly, you tried to push yourself up, but Leon only growled, his resolve strengthened and his grip iron-clad. There was nothing you could do to squirm away, not unless he had a sudden change of heart

“Bitch,” He spat, letting out a string of less specific profanities under his breath. “I took care of you. I kept you safe. All you had to do was let me.”

You didn’t respond. Leon sighed, but his hold on you never loosened.

“You still want to know what happened, don’t you?” He sounded defeated, exhausted, but that didn’t stop him from kissing your shoulder as you struggled to nod, the gesture both fleeting and far too prolonged, at the same time. He pulled back, but didn’t let you go, only scanning over you with the same tight, loving smile he always wore when he was about to do something awful.

You’d never thought that smile would make you feel so sick.

“You’re about to find out, angel.”  

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere prompt #yandere prompts #yandere oneshot #yandere oneshots #yandere drabble #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenerio #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere ocs #yandere oc x reader #male yandere #yandere boy #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #yandere core #yanderecore #yancore

[squishneedsahero]

Oh Yeah, I Remember Now

It’s Who I Am Part 4

Word Count: 2555

Warning: I didn’t go into much detail but there is mentions of abuse and other things which the reader went through during their time with HYDRA

How would The Falcon and The Winter Soldier have played out if you, the younger daughter of Howard Stark got involved? You had been kidnapped by HYDRA at a young age, your mind taken from you as they forced you to work towards creating new weapons for them and when HYDRA had fallen you had gotten free with your scattered memories for you to slowly piece together.

You'd had a relatively good childhood, sure your father was a dirtbag to both you and Tony but your mom was good. She tried to protect the both of you, Tony had done his best to protect you as well. But you'd always lived in their shadow. It was always, "oh you're Howard's daughter? I didn't know he had a daughter," or "aww what a cutie, you must help your mom take such god care of your father and brother." All of this made you sick. None of it was Tony's fault it was all misogyny and your father's sexism.

The next thing you remember is a science fair. It's third grade and you've made a tiny drone, which you can fly around and take pictures with. You were so excited to show everyone, to show your dad that you could be an engineer as well, but only your mother and Tony came. They tried to encourage you but you didn't say anything, it isn't until you get home and you're lying in bed that you cry. You're good at keeping your crying quiet, quiet enough that no one would know you had spent the night crying and when you got up in the morning the tears were gone.

Then you're at boarding school, somewhere they could teach you to be a proper 13 year old girl. One night sticks out above the rest, the dorms caught fire everyone was getting out. You tripped as you tried to get out of bed and then when you tried to get up a cold metal hand covered your mouth and someone picked you up, throwing you over their shoulder, you feel something prick your arm as you begin to kick and scream, and then things go dark.

You're in a small cell with grey walls and grey floors. You're 15 as you're sitting there, refusing to cooperate with HYDRA's current plan, the door slams open and in walks one of the nameless agents. They show you a newspaper, the headline announcing that your parents had died in a car crash, they then show you other photos, and tell you how they had had them killed by the Winter Soldier. From there they go into great detail on the fact that if you didn't begin cooperating they would bring your brother to be the next one they make you torture.

From there things get especially messy in your mind. Some days remembering your past and other days not. Some days you're the one doing the torturing and other days the one being tortured. HYDRA had forced you to commit many atrocities in their name, so many you couldn't begin to count. There were the times where you were the one who was in charge of resetting Bucky's mind, wiping it and preparing him for a mission. There were other times when you were difficult and they had the winter soldier beat you into submission.

There was one day, one day during which nearly all of HYDRA's agents disappeared and never came back. You were locked in your tiny cell, you don't know how long you were there on your own, hunger clawing at your stomach and dehydration quickly becoming an issue. You don't remember how but you got out and escaped.

It's who knows how many months later that you become aware of anything again. You're lying in some alleyway somewhere and have none of your memories. You find your way to a library, feeling safe there, from there you begin to figure out how exactly the world works and how you can survive.

It's another few years after that, having short term memory loss and being slow to pick up on anything. It is at this point where you've some how ended up in NYC and as you're walking down the street that you bump into Tony. You don't recognize him but he recognizes you. It happens quickly, he gets a DNA test to be sure but soon you're living with him and have some of your life together but still no memories. It's during this time that you meet a few other people, but thanks to Tony they keep the fact that you're still alive quiet, not wanting to overwhelm you with his life when you barely have yours together.

After that you're sitting in the Avenger's compound with Rhodey when something happens and people you haven't meet before show up. First it's just one guy named Bruce, then a group of people Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Vision and Sam. That was the first time you had met Sam, though you hadn't spoken to him. From there you all go to Wakanda, try to save Vision, apparently cross paths with Bucky, fail to save Vision, fight some aliens in one of Tony's suits, punch a giant purple dude in the face a few times then ultimately get turned to dust with a few billion other people on the planet.

Then you find yourself lying on the ground in the jungle of Wakanda with half of the people you'd been fighting Thanos with. Some sort of portals open up in front of all of you and you fight even more aliens. You pass by Tony at some point and give him a quick hug in the middle of all of it, despite not having memories you still knew you cared deeply for him and was one of the few people you felt safe when you were with. Then as soon as your world had come together, it falls apart again, Tony had sacrificed himself to save the rest of you.It is when you're at his funeral that things begin to set in for you, your brother is gone, you're once again alone in the world... except you weren't. Tony had a wife and a daughter, Pepper and Morgan, it didn't take much for them to take you in and act as though you had always been part of their family.

It's in the six months following that when you create your own suit, and somewhat get yourself together. At least you have it together enough that your memory of that time is pretty solid even if your mind felt scattered. It is after those six months of relative peace and calm that brings you to the present. Where you had met up with Sam and Bucky on accident and teamed up with them to figure out this problem.

There is a knock on the door you have your back too, and it shakes out of the state you are in. "Hey, y/n," it's Sam, "are you alright in there?"

"Uh- yeah- yeah- I'm fine." You stand up and quickly wipe the tears which had formed in your eyes before opening the door. "Hey," you can see the concern in Sam's eyes, "I'm fine, just needed a minute," you pause before changing the subject, "so what's the plan?"

"Sharon is going to be hosting some people here and will ask around to see if anyone knows where we can find Naegele," Sam explains, "so we can join the party and just have to blend in with the crowd."

"Sounds good," you look down at your dress that has some blood splattered on it then look back at Sam, "you think she has a different dress I can wear?"

"Probably, we can go ask her."

You let Sam lead the way back to the other room, where you give Zemo a death glare before asking Sharon, "hey, you have a dress I could borrow? I don't think blood will blend well."

"Sure," she goes over to a closet and gets out a dress which she hands to you, "here, put this on, I'm going to get headed down to begin letting the guests in."

You nod and take the dress, going to change quickly before coming back out, where you're greeted by Sam and Bucky telling you Zemo had gone with Sharon. "Can I help you?" you ask with more than a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

Bucky doesn't hesitate, "what happened?"

You raise an eyebrow at him and pause for a moment before say, "shit. Shit happened, and I... remembered." You shake your head a bit, "before you ask, no I don't want to talk about it. It's a lot, it's fucked up and it's a lot but like, I can get drunk so I'm going to go do that downstairs right now then drunk cry it out so I'm good to go tomorrow."

You admitting that you remembered has Bucky feeling uncomfortable because you were right it was fucked up and he had been involved in it.

"Y/n, getting drunk it's going to help," Sam says.

You sigh and look at Sam, "I know that but I'm going to do it anyways because at the moment I don't want to deal with it. Plus I don't think I've ever gotten drunk before so it won't take much to do so I'll be good to go in the morning."

"It's still a bad idea," Sam says but isn't going to argue further since you're obviously set on this plan.

You go through with your plan, and you were right about it not taking much for you to get drunk, but its enough that you don't have to think about life for a few hours. Then in the morning you wake up hungover, but with enough time to mostly recover by the time it's time to go find Naegele. You get dressed in in your 'suit' of leggings and a shirt before heading out with the other four to find Naegele.

You go with them down to the docks, where they keep all the shipping containers. Sharon leads all of you right up to the one he is supposed to be in. You let the boys go in and you stay out with Sharon, mostly to make sure Naegele doesn't make a run for it but it ends up being pretty convenient for fighting some of the guys the power broker sent to stop all of you from getting to Naegele.

It is with ease that you take them down, discovering that the reason you hadn't been great at fighting before was because of HYDRA wiping your mind. They took the methods you picked up over time from your mind, making it nearly impossible to improve even if you instinctively knew what to do. There is a lull in the fighting, during which you and Sharon slip into the shipping container and go to the back and into the secret are to find the others.

The two of you barely make it into the room when a gunshot goes off, Zemo killing Naegele right there. You only have a chance to shout, "what the hell?!" Before the box around you explodes.

You tuck and roll, escaping the flames and second rocket fired at the shipping crates. You don't know if anyone else made it out but for now you just need to make sure all of you will survive past this point. Your suit had protected you well, and you were thankful since you'd learned the evening before that you weren't at all enhanced but just had an unusually high pain tolerance. It doesn't take you long to spot one of the people who were after you and you focus in on them, one thing you could control. You could control that they were kept busy fighting you and you could control where they were so the others could get out.

As you throw yourself at the man in front of you, you hear gunshots and you're thankful. That means the others made it out of that explosion. You don't want to kill anyone, you had come close when Zemo had activated whatever it was HYDRA had put in your head, but you'd done enough killing in your life. You just needed to incapacitate them, and you do. It's just a matter of hitting a few pressure points and he should stay down for a few hours at least.

From there you move onto the one other person you can see but you are beat to them by Sam. You jog up to him now that things had calmed down a little and see Sharon and Bucky, leaving Zemo as the only one unaccounted for. "Hey, did we get them all?"

"Seems like it," Sharon responds.

Sam looks at her, "come with us."

Sharon shakes her head, "just get me that pardon you promised."

Sam nods once then looks at Bucky, about to say something only to be interrupted by Zemo pulling up in a car. "Shall we?"

You get in the car without hesitating, taking the seat behind Zemo so you can keep an eye on him. Bucky claims the front seat and Sam gets in behind him, saying something about him not moving the seat up. Then you're off, leaving to get back on Zemo's plane and head to the location they had gotten from Naegele.

When all of you are on the plane there is a short conversation as you go over the plan. Then silence falls over all of you, not a nice silence but an awkward silence and you can feel their eyes on you. You finally decide to break the silence and look at Bucky, "hey, I should apologize for all the shit HYDRA made me do to you, so... sorry," you frown and shrug a bit in an attempt to play it off like no big deal as it's always awkward to experience emotions with other people around.

Bucky just shrugs a bit, "it's alright, not exactly your fault. Sorry for kidnapping you."

You don't know why but you laugh. Maybe because it's so ridiculous but you shut up as quickly as you can and shake your head, "it's alright, not exactly your fault either."

"Having less of a memory problem I see," Zemo cuts in on the slight moment the two of you are having.

Your head snaps around to look at him, "you're on thin ice, so tread lightly, or I'll make you wish you'd died in that explosion back there."

Zemo laughs, "ah, there is the Stark attitude that HYDRA had so much trouble controlling." He presses his fingertips together and relaxes in his seat before continuing, "HYDRA was only able to get Lemonade to stick in your mind. It was in case you needed to protect one of the agents from a monster you had created. They had to manually mess with your memory thanks to you being so stubborn, as they couldn't seem to break you."

You can't help but feel a little nauseous as he speaks but you know he's telling the truth. "Yeah, and you better not use it again though I'm pretty sure I broke it last night." Then you look at Sam, "in the case that I didn't break the programming I have weak knees if you hit them from behind and a peanut allergy, knock me out if needed I shouldn't die."

You don't get a response to that but you felt better knowing they could easily stop you if Zemo pulled anything. But that was it and with that you were able relax for the rest of the flight.

#sam wilson #tfaws #tfaws imagine #bucky #bucky barnes #captain america #the falcon #falcon #sam wilson x you #falcon x you #the falcon x you #captain america x you #mcu x you #sam wilson x y/n #falcon x y/n #the falcon x y/n #captain america x y/n #sam wilson x reader #falcon x reader #the falcon x reader #captain america x reader #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #catfa #tfatws #tfatws imagine

[movedto-erodasghosts]

cardigan | harry styles

moved blogs - @erodasghosts

Description: somewhat poorly written fic where they missed out on their opportunity when y/n returned Harry’s cardigan

Warnings: none?

Word count: ~3.6k

a/n: this was written for @harrysleftchelseaboot’s writer appreciation prompt list using the prompts “I never meant for it to happen like this.” And “I love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.”

masterlist

————

“You can’t just keep stealing all of them,” Harry laughed, searching through your closet and finding many of his missing cardigans.

You were grinning as you watched him from your bed, currently wearing the cardigan he wore to your house that day over your shoulders, preparing to take it too. He really didn’t mind but his closet was lacking too many now.

“You’re the one that leaves them here all the time.” You sat up, “Besides, you get them back.”

“I leave them because you are wearing them every time I get ready to go,” he defended himself. “And I get them back in piles like this. It’s not ideal.”

You shrugged and teased, “They look better on me anyway, you should just leave them.”

He chuckled and shook his head, turning around to put his gatherings on your bed. He agreed with what you said, he also just thought you looked better in everything of his in general, even if the clothing was stolen. You were so often wearing his stuff it was like you hardly owned your own wardrobe.

“You’re taking my shirts now too, don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he held up a shirt he found within the mess.

He had no idea that that was where his shirt ended up, he should’ve guessed it though.

“I’ve had that one for months and you didn’t even notice!” You took it from him. “C’mon, just leave this one?”

“That one?” His gaze followed you, “There are more shirts?!”

You bit your lip and stood to put the shirt away. “I mean, maybe a few? They’re being cleaned though so you’ll have to get them next time.”

So you actually wore them around? And you had recently, most likely while he was just gone on tour. He would have guessed you did wear his stuff from time to time, considering you took and kept so much of it, but having it confirmed was different. The thought made him happy, though he couldn’t say why.

“At least you’re getting use out of them,” he sighed and sat at the end of your bed.

Harry smiled to himself, seeing you had on his cardigan despite the conversation. He knew he’d leave it there again, just to have this conversation another time. You wondered to yourself what he’d think when he found out you had stolen a pair of his gloves too, among who knows what else.

You were known for borrowing his clothes, seeing as it started when you were teenagers. There came a point where he wasn’t really sure how or when you started to steal his clothes, it was going on for so many years at this point that he lost track. The first time you ever borrowed something of his it was just his jacket. It was a very movie cliché moment where he gave it to you because you were cold. And, yes, it made your heart skip a beat, you were young. While you did tend to be colder than him, you didn’t always take his stuff for that reason.

One reason you took his stuff was because he did have a good taste, you loved most stuff he owned. You had even gone on shopping trips with him so he could help you pick out some new favorites. Another reason you would wear it was to get that feeling of closeness when he was gone, or even while he was there. Wearing his stuff, and him occasionally wearing yours, was another way you would try to express your feelings to one another in hopes that the other might notice.

A lot of your friends would call you out on it, along with all of the other things you and Harry did that was more than just friendly behavior. Yet, you continued to deny it.

Maybe you denied it out of fear, fear of confronting your feelings after dancing around them for so many years. You were never really sure how Harry felt for you and you didn’t want to risk the close knit relationship you had already built with him, the same reason he never said anything to you either.

But small moments like this made Harry regret never telling you. It was simple and not really special since you had a very similar conversation at least once a month, but that was just why he found some joy in it.

“They do look better on you, y’know.” He sighed, “Which makes me hate to have to put it on myself after seeing you in it.”

You laughed and turned to face him, “Liar. You’re so cocky when you wear these.”

“Maybe it’s because I know you’ve worn them. That would be reason enough,” He grinned.

“Uh huh,” you scoffed. “Or maybe because you know how good you look in them.”

“But I know I’ll never look as good as you.”

You rolled your eyes, gently pushing on his shoulder as he laughed. He wasn’t joking, though he was trying to be a bit dramatic. Of course he knew he looked good in them, he was too full of himself not to, but that wasn’t his biggest motivation.

Wearing your things, or his own clothes that you had worn before, brought him a form of comfort. It allowed him to think of all the memories of the times you had worn them.

Moments where being around each other could be so comfortable and casual. Where you wanted to be closer but were too afraid to actually do it. And, of course, times when you stole them too, he mostly laughed at those memories. He found himself thinking about it a lot, especially when he was gone on tour for longer periods.

Did it hold the same meaning to you? He figured you just did it out of convenience or because you were friends and had become so comfortable with one another. Both of you chalked it up to nothing more than the result of a long term friendship.

One day, after years of confliction, you told yourself that it was time to let your crush on him go. Your lives were heading in completely different directions. He was way more busy, gone from home often, and was just getting an entirely different lifestyle. It was time to face reality, no matter how hard it was.

Harry was tooth rottenly sweet. And having known each other for so long you were more comfortable around him than anyone else. You still made time for him, sometimes before anyone else out of eagerness. And he made sure to make time for you when he was home, often putting you on the top of his priorities. It wasn’t like you were just drifting apart, both of you worked to maintain your friendship.

That made it harder to move on, but you tried your best to work at it still. It seemed like the best thing for both of you. You were both doing things that held you back in your lives, only because you refused to talk about it with each other.

It seemed like as you were trying to distance yourself further he only did something to pull you closer, which made you question if he knew what he was doing. At first he didn’t see it, it started out small. You were trying to become more mindful of your behavior around him, stopping yourself from doing things that people who are just friends wouldn’t do.

No longer would you be found with an arm wrapped around him at most times, the closeness only made butterflies fill your stomach. You stopped running your fingers through his hair as much, it was too blissful to keep going. He especially noticed that you stopped resting a sweet kiss on his cheek at random yet perfectly timed moments, which was the first to go.

Though he immediately noticed these changes he tried to shrug it off. Without realizing he started doing those things to you in greater numbers, in an attempt to make up for what your relationship was now lacking. It confused him, he wondered if you were upset with him but he didn’t know what he might’ve done wrong. He tried to ask in various ways and did eventually decide to ask straightforward.

When confronted you just simply said you weren’t upset, but you didn’t go on to explain what was going on either. You couldn’t, that would mean you would have to tell him about why you were trying to become more distant in the first place. This left him in a helpless position. It was clear that something wasn’t right.

“You’ve got sticky hands,” he pointed to his cardigan you were wearing. “But you aren’t very sly.”

You smiled, “Apparently I am though, I trick you every time.”

He ducked his head and laughed. “You don’t trick me every time.”

“No?” You challenged him. “Then how do you always end up leaving without your cardigan?”

“Because, you said it yourself.” He gently tugged on the hem of the cardigan, “It looks better on you.”

Mindlessly your hand was drifting to rest on his arm, you quickly caught yourself and froze your actions. Instead, you brushed your hair behind your ear and crossed your arms. This wasn’t getting any easier.

“It’s getting late,” you cleared your throat. “I know you have early plans tomorrow, so you should probably go to get some rest.”

Harry frowned as you took a step back. You were doing it again, deflecting and pushing him away. He couldn’t figure it out.

“I could stay a little while longer. It’s not even ten yet.” He pointed to the time.

He was right, and normally he would stay well past that and often he would actually end up spending the night. You decided that was fine from time to time. Friends stay at each other’s houses, just not three nights in a row.

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” You shrugged the cardigan off your shoulders. “By the time you make it home and get your cardigans put away it’ll be later.”

You placed the cardigan on the pile with the others, then picking them up to hand them to Harry. He smiled weakly in response, he got the message. You never just handed his cardigans over, he always had to come collect them just to lose another.

“Aren’t you going to keep this one a while?” He picked the top cardigan up and held it out to you.

Did you want to keep it? Absolutely. But you knew that doing that less was a part of letting go.

“I’ve still got a few of your things, it’s fine.” You opened your bedroom door for him, “And like you said, I’ve got to stop stealing them so much.”

He nodded sadly, placing it back down. You quietly exchanged good nights and he made his way home. It was odd to leave like that, so melancholy. There was definitely something going on, he needed to figure out what it was.

You noticed his reaction, it was obvious that he knew something was up. You knew that you wouldn’t get away with it for long but part of you wished that you would. A problem was, you never planned what you would do if he started to figure it out. You didn’t want to think about any situation where you might have to expose yourself further.

No one could understand why you were doing what you were doing. They didn’t understand because they were seeing a bigger picture than you. They saw Harry’s feelings for you, they knew that there was more to it than just a friendship. And no matter how hard everyone around the two of you tried to make you see it, you remained oblivious.

Over the next few weeks Harry found himself in similar situations, where you would push him further and further away. He couldn’t understand it. One minute things were normal, you were talking and laughing with one another like there was nothing wrong. The next minute you were suddenly cold, coming up with any excuse to put some space between him and you.

Honestly, he was beginning to miss you. He missed your grazing hands, your entangled legs, your head on his shoulder. Spending time with you became so ordinary, and not in a blissful sense. Where did he go wrong?

It made him feel selfish. He wanted all of these things from you, expected them even. He returned them, but that didn’t feel like enough. How could he ask for all of those things, things one only tends to find in a relationship, yet hide his true feelings about it?

It was becoming more and more clear how much you meant to him. How reliant did he become? Just a few weeks without as much affection and he felt so uneasy. He tried to fill in the lack of affection but was slowly giving up on that as you pushed further and further away. Maybe it was time to confront it all.

“Are you sure everything is fine?” He broke the silence. “I didn’t do something to upset you?”

You froze, really hoping you would’ve never had to hear him ask that again. The first time he asked you could easily get him to brush it off, but now? Had you really been so obvious about it?

“Harry,” you began.

“Y/n, come on.” He was hesitant, “Something is off, you’ve been… different around me. I just don’t know why, so did I do something?”

“No, you haven’t done anything.” You had to be careful with your words. “We’re fine, really.”

Your answer wasn’t satisfying, it was far from believable too. He could tell you didn’t want to talk about it, and normally he wouldn’t press but it was necessary this time.

“If we’re fine why are you becoming so distant?”

You stood up, going to your kitchen. “We have been hanging out like normal.”

“Normal amount of time maybe,” he followed. “But it’s not the same.”

You weren’t going to be able to avoid it any longer, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try to though.

“What do you mean?” You avoided eye contact, reaching for a cup.

“You know what I mean,” he stood beside you. “I mean that you’ve stopped. You stopped messing up my hair just to fix it, you’ve stopped with the constant hugs and pecks on the cheek. You haven’t stayed later than eight at my place, you didn’t keep my cardigan the other day or even try to keep multiple.”

“You’re reading too much into nothing,” you mumbled.

Harry felt his heart fall a bit. He had been telling himself that for weeks, it was becoming more evident that it wasn’t true though. You were still being avoidant though, he had to remind himself of that.

“Am I? I’m just worried, okay?” He licked his lips, “I don’t want us to drift away.”

He had every right to be asking these questions and pointing those things out to you, you knew that. But still, you wished he wouldn’t.

You didn’t think he would’ve noticed certain things he had pointed out, how much more had he noticed? It even seemed like he was missing them, maybe he was. You didn’t want to let yourself too much of it though.

“It’s not you,” your focus was on the cup.

He leaned closer to you, “So what is it?”

“I just—“ you weren’t ready. “I never meant for this to happen.”

Harry was confused by everything. What did you mean by that? You still refused to look at him, afraid you might spill if you did. It only made him more concerned, it seemed bigger than what he thought.

“Meant for what to happen?” He rest his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

It felt like a weight on you, rather than doing any help. You were used to his touch taking weight off of you and reassuring you that everything would be okay, but for the first time it was the opposite.

“Nothing,” you faked a smile. “Sorry I’ve been weird.”

You took his hand off, going to fill your cup with water. You needed to get away again. It was too soon to talk about something that you weren’t even completely over yet. He did deserve an explanation and you knew that, you just weren’t capable of giving one.

“Can we talk about this? Please?” He ran a hand through his hair, “I just want to know why things are changing so suddenly. Why are you so dead set on distancing yourself now? What did I do?”

“Nothing,” you repeated.

He knew you were stubborn, he also knew you were hiding something. It was eating him alive. There were so many possibilities as to what the issue was. He didn’t know if it was him, if something was going on in your life to change things, if you were just growing tired of all the pining.

“Clearly something happened, you can’t deny that.” He chuckled nervously, “At least tell me some bit of truth. I just… I don’t want to lose you and it really feels like I am.”

You were blinking rapidly, trying to hold back your tears. You were thankful that your back happened to be toward him so he couldn’t see you cry. If you said anything he would surely hear a crack in your voice though. Staying silent was no good either though, you would have to say something eventually.

“Maybe it’s good we put some distance between us,” you turned around. “We acted like… like we were more than we were—are. It was… messing with me. I just need some distance.”

You noticed it too? But you didn’t seem to feel the same. You wanted distance, you wanted to stay just friends. It hurt, to say the least, but he was doing his best to just be relieved that he finally sort of knew what was going on.

“Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He fiddled with his rings.

“No, you…” you squeezed your eyes shut, “you didn’t. It was me. I got ahead of myself, I shouldn’t have done those things in the first place an—“

“I did them too,” he interrupted. “I guess it was both of us.”

Letting out a sigh you paused. At least you didn’t have to directly say it.

“I can’t do that anymore,” you explained. “I can’t pretend that it didn’t have an effect on me. We— I have to move on.”

Harry could believe what he was hearing. After all of those years of telling himself you’d never see him as more than a friend you were saying, what? That you did have feelings for him, at least at some point? And he completely messed it up.

He hoped it wasn’t too late to fix it.

“Can I just say something?” He continued when you gave a nod in response, “I know that you don’t want to talk about it really, and I don’t want to assume anything you may or may not be saying but… I love you, I have loved you for some years now an—

“Harry, don’t.” You sat your cup down, shaking your head. “Please don’t do this.”

“Just hear me out?” He gently held your hands in his own.

It felt warm again, comforting. You hesitantly agreed, knowing whatever was about to be said would likely hurt.

“I love you,” he continued. “I don’t think anyone knows me the way you do, and I don’t think anyone else ever could. And I know that our relationship has been… weird, and I know that you have things you need to work through.”

This is the conversation you wished you had with him years ago, you were waiting for it for so long. Now it was happening and you felt conflicted. It wasn’t as simple as it could’ve been, you were supposed to be moving on.

“Harry, I—“ you pulled your hands away, “I can’t do this now. I’ve been waiting for so long to hear you say that, I had to stop waiting at some point.”

He knew, deep down, that it was too late. He saw the signs months ago, when you had begun to push him away. It still felt like he had to tell you this. It made him feel selfish again though.

“I understand,” he smiled weakly. “Just know that… I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, which I hope you’re able to better after this. There will always be a part of me that will always love you, no matter what.”

There was nothing to say, nothing to do. It was too late in a way, but at the same time this was the moment you were waiting for for all of those years. You weren’t sure what to say, and he didn’t expect you to say anything. A part of you wanted to tell him you felt the same, because a part of you did. But another part of you was saying you needed to keep moving on.

Maybe you both had missed your chance when you returned the first cardigan.

#zoeyswritersappreciationwc #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader oneshot #harry styles x reader imagine

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 6)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Virgil had started to feign sleep about an hour after Logan had left to his potions lab. Patton could tell he was faking because his arms never relaxed. Despite the boy no longer responding, he kept talking to him in soft tones. He seemed exhausted, but he was also clearly not planning to truly sleep any time soon. Patton wondered what had led up to him being here both recently, which had caused the dark circles under his eyes and long term that had caused the sunkenness of his cheeks.

Patton’s stomach growled, reminding him of the passage of time. He had no idea how long whatever Logan was doing was going to take, but someone was going to have to go to the kitchen and get some breakfast soon. The snacks truly had not been enough to hold them through the night.

He felt secure enough even knowing Virgil wasn’t actually sleeping to push himself to his feet and walk over to the potions lab door. “Hey Lo,” Patton called. Virgil still hadn’t moved to indicate he was still awake.

“Yes?” he asked.

“How long are you going to take? I need to get food soon and maybe come up with an excuse for at least one of us to stay here all day.”

“It’ll be a little while longer,” Logan said.

Patton glanced back at Virgil. He caught the boy with his eyes open this time and saw him wince at being caught. “Maybe Virgil can stay in there with you while I go get things?”

“That would be fine,” Logan said, turning back to what he was working on. “Bring him in here if you’d like.”

“Okie dokie,” Patton chirped. He turned to Virgil who was looking up at him. “I’m going to take your arms and lead you to the other room, okay?”

He nodded and Patton leaned down and grabbed his wrists. He got even tenser somehow when Patton moved his arms to his front and Patton frowned, but didn’t comment. He helped him get to his feet and led him into the other room.

“You can seat him over there,” Logan said pointing.

Virgil was looking around the room with wide eyes and Patton had to stop and think about what this room might look like to someone who hadn’t been enthusiastically introduced to every new potion ingredient and piece of equipment as they arrived. There were shelves of ingredients, all organized and labeled. Logan kept all powders in uniform glass vials and liquids in bulbous containers. Whole dried herbs hung from strings in one area and there were containers of fresh ones glowing a soft green; the preservation spells that Logan came up with himself kept them fresh for months longer than they would usually last.

Logan had three separate areas for potion making. There was one space for potions that required more dangerous ingredients which currently had something simmering at it, but the enchanted protective curtain wasn’t drawn around it, so Patton imagined it must not be doing anything that could be too harmful at the moment. The table he used for experiments was empty and thoroughly cleaned, so he was clearly making something with an already well-established recipe. Currently, he was standing at his table reserved only for non-harmful substances. He was chopping up what appeared to be mint as two smaller pots boiled in front of him.

Patton led Virgil over to the indicated chair which was out of the way of even the non-dangerous ingredient zone. He still seemed to be trying to take in the room as Patton settled his wrists on the chair’s armrests.

“Any requests?” he asked Logan.

“Not really,” Logan replied. He glanced up at Patton. “Though if you can sneak me some of the leftover macaroni salad from dinner, that would be appreciated.”

“That’s not breakfast!” Patton chided.

“Which is why I requested that you to sneak it.”

Patton shook his head and turned back to Virgil. “What about you?” he asked.

He looked up at Patton and shook his head. Virgil looked a bit scared and out-of-sorts. He wanted to reach forward and pat him on the head or kiss his cheek to comfort him, but he imagined that would go over worse than badly. Instead, he flashed the boy a quick smile and then turned to leave the room.

He left Logan’s private chambers and closed the door behind him before walking down the hall.

“Good morning Patton,” one of the stationed guards greeted.

He smiled at her and the other guard. “Good morning Kalani. Hi Owen.”

“I see you and the prince had a sleepover,” Kalani said. “Should we be planning on him not making it to his royal duties until later today?”

“Actually,” said Patton. “Maybe all day. He was feeling a little sick. Had a headache.” It was… probably true. They hadn’t slept a wink last night.

“Hmm,” Kalani said. “Maybe there’s something going around. Clover said she had a bit of a dizzy spell last night.”

“Oh,” Patton answered. Clover had been one of the two guards set to watch the door to the royal wing. At least Virgil had been telling the truth about not hurting anyone.

“I hope she feels better. I’m going to go get Logan something to eat for breakfast since he can’t come himself, so I’ll see you again in a few minutes.”

The guards nodded to him and he turned to walk down the hall. The areas around the kitchens would be pretty busy at this point in the morning so instead of taking any of the busier paths to it, he walked past the dining hall towards the guest wing and took the staircase that led straight outside. It was a longer path because he had to go around and through the garden, but it was worth not getting in anyone’s way.

Patton always did like the garden. It was pretty at every time of year. Even now as the flowers started to get sparser in the fall, it was still wonderful, and it smelt great. He took just the briefest moment to himself to splash a hand through one of the fountains with a giggle. He turned away to continue on his path to the kitchen, which is when he saw her.

“Oh,” he said softly. “Hi kitty.”

Ghost Kitty was there and stared at him briefly before taking off into one of the bushes.

“Bye kitty,” he said just as soft. He smiled even though she’d ran away because that was the closest, he’d ever gotten to her.

He continued his trek to the kitchen and snuck inside on quiet feet, hoping to be unnoticed as he went for the chilled storage box. Luck was on his side, because Mama was busy talking in hushed tones to the gardener, Mr. Deknis, as she peeled potatoes.

“Well certainly no one has joined the kitchen staff who has a child,” Mama said. “I’d know.”

“Perhaps a maid or even a guard,” Mr. Deknis suggested.

Mama was frowning. “We don’t usually hire many people towards winter for those positions. Maybe someone in the stables?”

“But he needed to get back to the castle, not to the stable hand’s lodging.”

“Well then,” Mama said. “I don’t know Jeff. I’ll ask around.”

Mr. Deknis sighed. “I should have asked him more questions, but the poor thing seemed ready to startle out of his boots, and I didn’t want to push.”

“Well if he’s new to the castle, he’s probably just a little out of sorts and nervous,” Mama reasoned.

“It didn’t seem like normal nervousness. He was…” Mr. Deknis shook his head. “Anyway, tell me if you figure anything out.”

“Of course,” Mama said.

“Also, your kid’s steeling macaroni salad for breakfast.”

“Patton!” Mama said, rounding on him. “That’s not breakfast!”

Patton shot a pout at Mr. Deknis, but he seemed unrepentant. Patton pulled his hand away from the macaroni salad. “The prince wanted it,” Patton said.

“That’s not breakfast for ‘the prince’ either.”

“But,” Patton argued, “he’s not feeling well.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Is he not feeling well or is he tired?” she asked.

“…Both?”

“Mmhmm.”

“No! Seriously mom!” Patton said. “Kalani said that Clover wasn’t feeling well this morning and she sees Logan all the time. I even convinced Logan not to do any unnecessary royal duties today.”

“Well he must really be sick if that’s the case,” Mama admitted, “unless of course he found an interesting book to read or had an idea for a new potion.”

“It’s not about a book or a potion,” Patton promised.

Mama considered him. “Fine,” she said, turning back towards the countertop. “Then give me a few minutes to make him and you a nutritious breakfast that doesn’t consist of 80% mayonnaise.”

“Pancakes?” Patton asked hopefully.

Mama shot him a look over her shoulder. “I said nutritious,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “Besides, I thought you said he was sick.”

“He’s not nauseous, mama,” Patton said. “And if you put blueberries in it, it’ll be healthy!”

“Mmhmm.”

“It will!”

“Now I know my own son doesn’t think I was born yesterday,” she said.

“Please mama,” he begged. “I promise we’ll both eat some other stuff too.”

“I don’t believe you.” Patton gave her a wobbly lip. “No,” she repeated.

“But Mama.”

“You and Logan are going to have a healthy breakfast or so help me…”

“… but Mama.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 7

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #past torture #captivity

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Friendly Encounters- Chapter Ten

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Smut, Fluff

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Graphic Depictions of sex, Homophobic Parents

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 10.9k

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jimin x Reader x Yoongi

Masterlist

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                            ________________________

Graduation day came rather quickly so as soon as you were done receiving your diploma, your father took you out to get some ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop. Jimin and Yoongi were also there, they made sure to stay out of sight since your father had no idea they were so involved in your life.

After that, he drove straight home so you could grab your things and go for an afterparty-sleepover at your friend’s house. What neither of your parents knew was that you were also going to another afterparty, at a nearby jock’s house.

You made sure to keep it a secret from your parents, and Jimin and Yoongi didn’t even know. They didn’t have to, you can still keep things from them. You have the right to secrets, all though it’s probably not the smartest idea for you to be sneaking out to another boy’s house in the middle of the night.

You and a few other girls get changed in the bedroom, slipping into some party casual wear before sneaking out the window. You finally reach the party, your hair tucked behind your ears to reveal your diamond earrings, another gift your father got for you.

“Hey Y/N. Looking good.” The host of the party checks you out, and you can’t help but blush as no boy has ever given you a compliment before. Besides your boyfriends.

“Thanks, how are you doing by the way? We haven’t been able to talk in quite a while, right?” He nods, before waving over a group of jocks.

“Yeah, let’s catch up later.” You watch as they start playing ball on the grass like a couple of dogs. Boys will always be immature, no matter how old they get.

“Hey, Y/N, there’s someone I want you to meet,” One of your friends gestures for you to come over as you cross the field, avoiding the football as the boys run after it like headless chickens. You finally reach the other side, seeing a handsome man seated next to her. “This is my boyfriend.”

“Hi, you can call me Finch. I have a stupid first name so that’s better.” He explains as you shake hands with him. The guy has a tight grip, definitely level-headed. You can tell a person’s character traits just from shaking their hands, so reading Finch is no problem.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You introduce yourself just as a crowd starts blocking the balcony door. You were currently standing in the backyard, which had a pool, a hot tub, and blaring music. It was a pretty stereotypical party.

“Oh cool, the chaperone arrived. Caleb’s parents wouldn’t let him throw a party unless he had adult supervision even though we’re all legally adults, so he just invited his brother in-law. Well, his previous brother in-law anyways. His older sister passed away a couple of years ago. Her husband still visits their family though, insisting that it’s his job to look after them since she isn’t here.” The sudden rush of information seems too familiar for you to not draw the conclusion that the person Finch is talking about is none other than-

“JIN!!!” You hear Caleb’s voice boom from the back as he runs over and picks up the man to carry him over his shoulder like he’s a rag doll.

“Hey kid, put me down. I need to scope out this party so I can make sure the vibes are right. That’s what my crush told me to do, at least,” He pulls out his phone to show his brother a checklist. You were freaking out, half worrying about Jin telling your boyfriends that you were here and half worried about Jin leaking the fact that you’re dating two boys at the same time to your entire student body. You knew it was going to be negative either way, so you hid in plain sight.

When Jin finally walked over to your general area, you just happened to be making a pizza run. And so, you ran into him. “Whoa, you’re here? It’s a small world. What were the odds that you were friends with my dead wife’s younger brother?” You cringe at his word choice as he rubs his neck sheepishly, equally regretting the wording of that question as well.

“Pretty high, I guess. Listen up Jin, I need you to pretend like you don’t know me any more than just a customer. I don’t want anyone to know about my dating Jimin and Yoongi. Just say I’m a regular at your coffee shop, that’s all.” Jin nods, accepting the message more easily than you expected. You bite off a good chunk of pizza before proceeding to sit down and continue talking to your friends for the rest of the night.

                                    ༻• At Home •༺

You arrive back at your house approximately around 1 pm. When Jimin and Yoongi see you again, however, your father is in the room with you, so you can’t just run into their arms like how you normally do. You simply just wait until you excuse yourself to “change” so that you could say hello and tell them everything in the comfort of your room, the one place your father never entered. This was your personal space, the one place you could be yourself.

Even as Jimin and Yoongi continue chatting away on your bed, you’re calm as you ever imagined you would be, since your father is back home just so he can “ask” you about college. Although, you already know you’re going to the college his friend’s son is going to, Pelard University. You personally wanted to study business, so you were content with that choice.

Your father wanted you to get married to a wealthy boy and that was that. Yet, you’ve learned what true love is, and experienced a healthy relationship where you don’t have to hide things. Not to mention, they also taught you that you can love two people at the same time and have a working relationship.

Although it’s not the most conventional, you love them both, so much. You’re just not sure if your dad would see it the same way. Your mother understood, listening to you as the three of you sat down and explained it to her, but the main reason why she was so worried was because of your dad. He’s so traditional, believing arranged marriage is the key to a successful future. 

You hated that mindset, he isn’t open to change, especially since he goes out of his way to ignore Jimin and Yoongi since they’re an openly gay couple. You’d rather die than have your father figure out you were in the middle of their “homosexual relations.” He only referred to them as that, “homosexuals.” Even the term “gay,” was something he didn’t allow you to say when you were in the house.

“So, are you excited for your celebratory dinner tomorrow?” Jimin asks as you slip on a dress from your closet and you rush over to your vanity to do your hair and makeup. You go with a natural look, since your dad hates modern makeup.

“I am, but who said you’re going? My dad is gonna make you guys uncomfortable, and I don’t want you guys to spend a minute with him alone. I’m not risking it.” Jimin puts his hands on your shoulders.

“If you don’t fight back, how are you supposed to break free? He’s chained you, kitten. That’s why he bosses you around and makes you do things you don’t want to do. You’re going to college soon and at that point he couldn’t possibly force you to marry some guy you don’t even know, right?” You push all your school folders to the corner of your study table before dumping stray paper into the recycling bin. All while Jimin is still poking the elephant in the room. 

“Jimin, can you please put a pin in this? Just like how you didn’t want to talk about your parents, I don’t want to talk about my father. It should be pretty clear to you now what he plans for my future education. I’m sure that even Yoongi figured it out. He hasn’t said a word since I stepped foot into the house.” Judging by his blank stare, you can tell it has nothing to do with you. Or maybe you hurt his feelings without realizing it?

“You know my parents are a sensitive topic. I understand it’s the same with your dad, but at least I had the courage to stand up to them and tell them my truth. Yoongi was one good thing that came out of it.” A part of your heart pangs with guilt since you couldn’t casually bravado your love for Jimin or Yoongi with your father present. 

Another part is stirring, one that had been brewing inside of you ever since your father forced you to go to such embarrassing dinner parties with boys that were less than desirable. The worst part about all of this is that your boyfriends live under the same roof as you, but your father couldn’t be the slightest bit bothered to get to know them. In his eyes, they were both failures since they worked at a café. 

“You want to talk about it? Sit down, we’ll get to that. Let me first ask Yoonie what’s going on with him.” You pull your swivel chair up to the bed, as your second boyfriend sits up with his phone in his hands, his tired expression telling you everything you need to know.

“Huh?” He rubs his eyes, which are dry and cracked as if he stayed up all night long. 

“What’s up? You’re not acting like yourself. Did something happen?” You ask your blond haired boyfriend as he curls up in your blankets, hiding his face from the world.

“I was thinking about what you said, the plan that you wanted to set in motion. I worked overtime so I could get more funds and support you guys, like a shadow, almost. While you appear as the perfect couple to the outside world, I could pull the strings and make you shine brighter. I was curious as to what you were thinking, since it seems like you don’t want to go with the original plan, which was marrying Jimin.” You remember back to when Yoongi was out working that one night and Jimin asked you if he was bad at sex. You told him that you’re not marrying him, with the intention of something else entirely.

“Well, obviously I don’t want to be legally bound to only one of my partners. It’s unfair. And right now, it’s dangerous for poly triads to be together in the open, so I think we should get wedding bands and have a staged wedding. We can tell our closest friends and parents but most of all, we could be equal without having a spare partner left out. I just feel like I’m not giving you enough attention, Yoon. The truth is that I fell so madly in love with you both that I was scared that I’d have to choose. I don’t think I could.” You wipe your tears away with your palms as both of your boyfriends squeeze you in a group hug. 

“Kitten, we’ve been together for as long as I can remember. What makes you think I’d make you choose between Jimin and me? We’re both in love with you and we’d never put you in such a situation. And the only reason I’ve been busier than usual is because I was collecting extra funds and putting in extra effort at work so I could save money for the honeymoon. Only the best for my babies.” Yoongi chuckles as Jimin affectionately nuzzles his neck and you press a warm kiss to his cheek. Now most of your worries about Yoongi have disappeared. Now that brings you to a new array of issues.

“Now that we have that out of the way, there’s something I want to ask you. How are you gonna explain to your dad that you don’t want to get married because you want to be equally committed to two partners in your life?” You tap your chin at Jimin’s question. Honestly, you’re just going to go with the most simple answer.

“I’ll tell him the truth. If he says no, I’ll tell him to suck it up because it’s my life. You’re right Jimin, standing up for what I believe in does make me feel better.”

“Right?” Yoongi casts a glare at his boyfriend as you turn on some light music and Jimin pulls you in for a kiss. You dance the night away with your boyfriends before switching off the light and crawling into bed between them both. As you drifted off to the land of dreams, you were plagued by the thoughts of what could go wrong with your confession to your father. You were never honest with him, and you don’t know how he’ll react, except for the fact that he’s gonna freak out when he discovers what’s actually going on between you and the boys.

After twisting and turning for a considerable amount of time, you find yourself relaxing and calming down as Jimin buries his head in the nape of your neck and Yoongi snuggles into your chest, boobs be damned. Luckily you aren’t on your period so your chest isn’t as sensitive today.

The next day goes by a lot slower than you expected, probably because your father drains the fun out of everything you do together. You don’t hate the guy, but he makes it a lot harder for you to like him when he has the personality of a rock.

“Jimin, you are not wearing a cowboy costume to the steakhouse.” You catapult onto the swivel chair, your forehead throbbing with a diminishing anxiety of tonight and all the ways it could go wrong.

“Oh come on, I was trying to cheer you up. Really, nothing?” You’re too worried to laugh at his shenanigans. “Maybe I should dye my hair a new color. Then you’ll be in for a real surprise.” He winks at you, making your heart flutter while stopping simultaneously. If he dyed his hair again, your father would probably think even less of him. He’s already not a fan of their relationship, so Jimin is already ruining their chances of being liked. You’re the one in a relationship, so it shouldn’t matter what others think of your boyfriends. Jimin and Yoongi won over your mom with their personalities, so why couldn’t they do the same with your dad? All they have to do is be themselves and if he doesn’t like them because he’s too petty to admit that they’re the world’s sweetest angels, they needn’t try any harder. They’re perfect just as they are.

“Please don’t dye it hot pink. The last thing we need is Y/N’s dad throwing a hissy fit because you aren’t setting a good example for his daughter.”

“Who said I was dyeing it an unnatural color?” Jimin smirks before you could ask anything else. You had no clue what he was planning as he dragged Yoongi back to their shared room and locked the door, preventing you from following them. You decide to open up your phone and scroll through Instagram to see what your other friends are up to. 

Speaking of, it looks like Caleb will be working at the steakhouse at the same time your family’s going for your dinner. You just pray Jin won’t show up and ruin everything even though he said he wouldn’t tell. You don’t want any hitches in the plan tonight. 

You know quite a lot of people from your graduated class will be there, since some of the jocks and cheerleaders got together to celebrate their freedom from homework and other trivial things that regular teenagers worry about. You know that you already have a lot more worries, since you were juggling not one but two boyfriends, trying to keep your GPA above a 3.5, and even putting up with your father’s demands by sitting through all the awkward matchmaking dinners. Half the kids at your school didn’t even know how to make food, let alone sit through a dinner with younger boys ogling their covered breasts because they know they won’t be getting a taste of real pussy anytime soon.

You know tonight won’t be any different, since your father invited a colleague from work and he wanted you to meet his son. You feel slightly better knowing your boyfriends will be there, keeping an eye on you in case things go awry. Jimin and Yoongi knew once they heard you crying through the phone, that they would never let you experience that kind of humiliation ever again. Your mother has high hopes for you, since you seem to be breaking out of your shell and trying to make this relationship between Yoongi and Jimin work. 

“Y/N, we’re driving you there. We got the clear from your parents, come on, Kit.” 

“I’m coming Jim-” You’re blinded by his beauty. Beauty is not a term you can use for this, he’s just too perfect. Pink, plush lips lacquered with watermelon flavored gloss, with cheekbones highlighted by the shimmer powder from an expensive brand, and his eyebrows are so neatly spooled so that you can see every single individual strand uniformly cascading down his arch. Jimin is the definition of sex on legs, and you can’t believe that he is standing before you as he is. His normally blue silky smooth hair is sticking up, the pungent scent of hairspray filling your nostrils as he moves closer. His hair is a dark blue, much more closer to a natural black shade than ever. He looks picturesque, so handsome you just can’t tear your eyes away.

“Cat got your tongue?” He teases as you hiss at him playfully, lightly resting your hand on his plump butt.

“If you’re the cat, then yes. Also, when did I start dating a disney prince because damn.” An impish smile tugs at his lips as he pulls you to your feet, and he admires you even though you think you look like a sack of potatoes. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Is that my sweatshirt?” You nod, playing with strings as your boyfriend affectionately kneads your shoulders.

“Oh God.” You freeze in Jimin’s arms as Yoongi appears in a casual pair of ripped skinny jeans and a plain white tee with a coat draping from his shoulder with a blue and orange patterned beanie draping from his newly dyed blond hair. It’s a different shade of blond, much lighter than the shade it was before. You could tell Yoongi was embarrassed by this, since he had a light blush dusting his cheeks and unlike Jimin, his posture was closed off. The way he carries himself is totally different. You still think he looks amazing, though. Both men look great, although you do make Jimin remove his pink sweater that he tied around his neck as a fashion statement. They both look handsome and ethereal while you still feel like you could look so much better. It’s a casual outing though, so you know you don’t have to worry about dressing up. Especially if you’re eating burgers and fries. 

“Exactly what she said. You look amazing, Yoonie.” Jimin says something in Korean but from all your lessons that you had from him so far, the only thing you understood was “you” and “Yoonie.” You were terrified about everything failing that you failed to see the good sides, too. If all goes as planned, you would be walking out of here with all of your limbs still intact, and leaving the restaurant with the number of boyfriends you started with. Knowing Yoongi’s personality, he might not hit it off well with your father at first. After all, when you met him, he was always throwing dirty looks your way and being cautious around you because Jimin liked you more than he should like his female friends.

“Shall we go?” You ask, cutting through their moment for a minute. You didn’t want to waste any more time.

“Right. We’re going to have dinner with your parents, and your parents’ friends.” You clench your jaw, clear dislike in Yoongi’s tone as he walks ahead of you and Jimin.

“Sorry about him. He’s just mad because he wanted to bond with your parents. He’s not much of a people person, so…”

“Jiminie, it’s alright. He didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he has every right to be mad. I would be too if one of your guys’ family brought in a guest despite you planning everything just for yourselves.” Jimin looks after Yoongi in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. You know it’s stupid, but you still can’t help feeling a little left out. Even now, as your boyfriends take the front seats and you’re sitting in the back, it’s so easy to forget that someone as insignificant as you has a place in their relationship. They’ve been together much longer than you’ve known them, that itself should be a sign that you aren’t the match for them. They’re just too high up for you to reach them. Of course, you’re never gonna tell them this.

Dinner is served, finally, and after an awkward 20 minutes of waiting for the Min family, you are introduced to their third youngest son, Noah Min. As soon as they walked into the restaurant, Yoongi’s eyes widened. His normally blank face was twisted into something more fear-filled.

“What are they doing here?” He hisses as Jimin tries to calm him down.

“We’re right here, you know? So rude, even after all these years you still never learned your place, did you Yoongi boy?” The woman who is the wife of Mr. Min, your father’s colleague, turns to Yoongi, as if she’s known him her entire life. And then it hits you.

Yoongi’s surname is Min...these people are the Min family, you are being set up with someone from the family that kicked their son out so coldly.

“I know my place is not with you, that much is certain.” You stay silent, chewing on a single fry as you watch the madness unfold.

“I see you’re still with that dancer. Hi Jimin.” He waves to her awkwardly, adjusting his chair so he was closer to the table.

“So I see you know each other. Is this your son? He lives in our guest room with his boyfriend. I had no idea you were even related.” Your father casts an expressionless look at Yoongi, immediately making the raging inferno inside of you flare up. Jimin grips your hand under the table, reminding you not to create a scene. 

“Well, we practically disowned him after he decided to fall into the devil’s hands and take on that lifestyle.” You stand up, finally done with the way his family was badmouthing him right in front of you like you couldn’t hear everything.

“Dad, I’m sorry but I can’t do this. I’m not gonna let anyone speak badly about my Yoongi.” With your little slip of the tongue, your secret is out in the open.

“Your Yoongi? Pray tell, is that how you youngins’ refer to each other or is there something we should know about?” Yoongi suddenly coughs, clearing his throat before nodding to you and Jimin. Whatever he was about to say, you would follow his lead.

“It’s true that I am still together with Jimin. What I didn’t expect is that Y/N would walk through the doors of that coffee shop that fateful day and carve a place in my heart. It’s true, in addition to being in a relationship with this man, I am in love with your daughter.” Your father’s eyes widen and you’re sure he burst a blood vessel because the vein popping out of his forehead is not a good sign.

While Yoongi’s family remains neutral, except for his brother who is shaking in his seat, your father is muttering curses underneath his breath while your mom tries to calm him down.

“Well, for once you don’t disappoint me. Maybe now you could give us grandkids. I mean, that’s the only thing we were really worried about since your older brothers decided not to have any children with their wives and your two younger sisters are still in high school...now we accidentally set your brother up with your girlfriend, or tried to.” His father bellows in an authoritative manner. 

Yoongi is not the slightest bit intimidated. His posture screams confidence and refinement as your mouth waters at the very sight. Seeing him look so calm is a turn-on.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe my brothers didn’t want kids to begin with and it’s none of your business judging them based on your shallow perception of reality? Your children don’t exist for you to control. I’m done being your little lapdog. I thought I said it then when I left the house but now I definitely want to make one thing clear: I don’t want anything to do with you.” He turns around and storms out of the restaurant, leaving you and Jimin worried about the rest. Tonight could not go any worse. 

“Good riddance. The wife didn’t raise him right, that’s the problem.” Your father glares at you from across the table as Mr. Min continues talking out of his ass. You and Jimin decide to follow him, leaving the table in a hurry to track down your partner. You find him in the alleyway behind the employees entrance and a mysterious light is flickering over his head.

“Yoongi, you don’t have to come back. They don’t deserve to have you as a son.” You say as Jimin takes a seat beside him, despite getting dirt on his nice pants.

“Yeah. As much as it hurts, they are toxic and their goal is to crush your spirit.” Jimin says in a low voice, hanging his head down in anger. You can sense it, the slightest quiver in his consonants when he speaks, and how his breathing is a little bit ragged.

“I just never thought I’d see them again. I missed my mom, even if she seems cold now, she wasn’t always like that.”

“Yoongi…?” Before you can say anything else his lips are on yours, the warmth from his body heating yours. You felt a familiar fire in your core as he pulled away, clearly his mind wandering as you stare back at him with desire.

“Okay guys, that’s enough. Your families are in there, and they know about us. So, how about we just walk back in there and face them once and for all? I’m tired of running. Now that your dad knows, maybe he’ll come to understand you better.” Jimin sounds a bit annoyed, since you and Yoongi managed to change the mood so easily again. 

“Let’s do this.”

                                              ༻• At Home •༺

“The three of you are dating?”

“Yes sir.”

“How long have you been seeing my daughter?”

“About six months, sir.”

“Have you forced my daughter into doing drugs, sexual activities, or exposing herself to fulfil your pervy desires?” Your boyfriends shake their heads as your father finishes interrogating them. “Alright, you’re free to go. Y/N, come here. I want to talk to you in private,”

You sit down beside your father, anxiety sky-high as you anticipate his every movement, analyzing his body language to think about what he might say next. Will he send you to Russia for college? Or maybe he will force you to marry that 12 year old who was too busy staring at your boobs to notice that it was well past his bedtime. 

Maybe he might just kick you out like Yoongi’s parents did with him. The worst-case scenarios pop into your head as you bite your nails and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. “As you know, I am very disappointed in you. However, I am glad you managed to find love on your own.”

“So you’re not mad?” You’re surprised by his tender reply, and how it almost seemed heartfelt, like he was recalling a pleasant memory. His eyes are filled with that mellow look you’ve only seen on Jimin when he gazes at Yoongi.

“No. Actually, I’m relieved. I never thought you’d find love on your own, that’s why I went through the trouble of arranging your love life for you. I’m your father first before anything else. This is just how things roll in our family. I’m sorry if you ever thought I was taking things away from you, I just want you to succeed and the only way I know how is pushing your limits.” 

You’re surprised by his reply. You guess you did overexaggerate things just a smidge. Of course, some things are too good to be true but you wanted to believe that your father was a good guy, so you hugged it out and then went straight to bed. 

Joined by Jimin and Yoongi in the middle of the night, the three of you cuddle until you’re warm again and you doze off to see a brighter tomorrow. Hopefully, you won’t have to face Yoongi’s family again.

“Morning dear, guess what? Pelard U sent you a new student pamphlet, isn’t that exciting?” Your mother is cheerful as always, handing you the envelope as you stretch your arms out.

“Sorry mom, I’m just having that weird tummy ache again,” You rest your hands on your belly as your mother glances at you strangely. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She quickly makes her way beside you, pretending to grab a fruit from the bowl in front of you as you rest your elbow on the counter.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that you’ve felt nauseated every day since last week? Maybe it’s time you took an at-home test. You know, just in case you might be-”

“Mom, no. I’m not pregnant, okay. I’d know if I was, like how you knew you were pregnant with me 18 years ago.” You yawn in between your sentence, deciding on stretching alongside the barstool at your kitchen island for support.

“Listen to me, the only way I knew is when I took this home test. Before getting a real test from the drug store, I did this test and then it came out positive. It’s the second-most accurate test in the world! If you are pregnant, you know I would support you, right? I don’t know much about your father though-”

“Mom, stop talking. Someone might hear you and ask us what we’re talking about. Drop it, I’m hungry. Maybe it’s just gas or period cramps.” You cut her off before she can say any more. You hated hearing her stories because it sounds so similar to how you, Jimin, and Yoongi are at the moment. There was a time when your parents were just a happy couple, carefree of the world around them. You know you’ll end up like them too someday, hopefully not disowning your daughter over something as petty as having multiple boyfriends at the same time (with their consent of course) unless she is cheating on a boyfriend she is supposed to have a closed relationship with. Or in case one of your daughters or sons confessed that they had a different sexual orientation than “straight.” Even now, you have a problem with assuming everyone you meet is straight, it’s hard when society forces heteronormativity on you.

You’ve only ever looked at men that way. Not because of what society tells you, but more of what your heart does. You’ve only ever had crushes on boys, felt attracted to boys, and chased after boys because of how you are. You know what you are, and no one can tell you otherwise.

“Hey guys I’m going out to the store today. Anyone want anything?” Your new black-haired boyfriend makes an appearance in his striking purple sweater and equally dazzling shoes. He looks like a highschooler, but a million times cooler than any of the boys you know. It’s only a bonus for you since your boyfriend puts as much effort into his looks as you take the effort to look good for him. It’s an equivalent exchange, you feel like you’re the best looking couple in the whole wide world. 

“Y/N has the list. Stay safe, kids.” Your mom ushers you away as you grab Jimin’s pinkie and intertwine your fingers.

All you needed was Yoongi in between you and you’d be golden. Right now Yoongi was working a shift at Jin’s, since he said he was earning extra money for you anyways. You decided it would be a good time to set up the new equipment in Yoongi’s room, but you didn’t want to mess anything up so you turned to Jimin for help.

In return, you would have to help him buy groceries. That’s why you were at the store now, picking a pack of sausages and loading bacon into your cart. Jimin purses his plush pink lips as he runs his delicate fingers over his gelled hair. You see a guy checking him out from the corner of your left eye, paying him no mind as you loop your arm around his and rest your head on his shoulder like you always do. The public display of affection has the guy walking away immediately, seeing how bold you were in claiming your man so easily. 

Speaking of, you were feeling more risky today so you turned to Jimin to help you explore your fantasies, since he was the center of nearly all of them anyways. (Excluding Yoongi, because the list would be endless if you included both of them)

“Next, we need car parts.” This is the most empty, deserted section of the store. You had no clue why Jimin needed to come here but you don’t question a thing when he pulls you in for a quick hug.

“What are we doing here? I don’t remember anything about car parts on the list.” Jimin smirks as you question him, his fingers playing with the belt loops on your shorts. Today your outfit was more summer-y, so Jimin wanted to take advantage of that.

“We’re not getting car parts. Wasn’t this on your bucket list?” It was. How did he know that?

“How do you-”

“-know that? Simple, I read your diary. I was bored, and I wanted to see what was going on in that beautiful mind of yours. So I read it, big whoop. Don’t worry, I’m just gonna fuck you here in the back of the store where no one can see us. There are no cameras around, and I’m sure no one is gonna come to this aisle either so just relax, baby.” A tight knot forms in your belly as he pulls down your shorts skillfully, pushing your panties down at the same time and revealing your plump ass to the world. Luckily there’s no one here to witness this.

“So wet for me already, I bet I don’t even have to prep you, I can just slide on in.” You let out a mewl as his cock makes contact with your ass, a pleasurable sensation between your cheeks alerting you that he was indeed slipping in. You feel a slight ache from the stretch, but as far as you’re concerned, that’s normal.

“Jimin, I’m so close.”

Thoughts of your conversation with your mother in the kitchen suddenly invade your mind, your orgasm disappearing as Jimin cums in your ass. You watch as his cockhead leaves behind white globs of baby juice, the same cum that probably did impregnate you. The possibility of having Jimin’s babies didn’t terrify you; it was actually comforting. What you were really scared about is what you would do in case you actually were pregnant. A baby isn’t a milkshake, or a coconut, or something to joke around about. Having a baby for a woman means the end of her freedom. That’s what you know from seeing your mother, and how sad she was that she got pregnant and started living for her child. You would have to repeat that process eventually as well, the thought occurs to you as Jimin smears his remaining cum around your cheeks and then pulls your panties and shorts back up like nothing happened.

“What happened? You normally cum so fast. It’s like the switch turned off.” Poor Jimin is left perplexed as he awaits an explanation as to what the hell just happened to you while you were in the middle of something you’ve always wanted to do.

You don’t know how to tell him. How do you tell someone you love that you think you’re pregnant with their baby? 

You love Jimin, but was he ready to hear this?

“I think I should tell you when we get home. Come on, let’s check out.” He stops you as you start pushing the cart towards the next aisle, grabbing your arm firmly with a pout on his lips as you blankly look up at him.

“There’s no one here. You can tell me anything, I’m your boyfriend.” You knew he was too stubborn to let go of things here, so you decided to give up, for the sake of your sanity. He would drive you crazy if you didn’t spill the beans.

“You wanna know? This morning I felt sick again. I’ve been feeling this way every single day for the past week and I’ve opened my mind up to the possibility of being pregnant. It’s not a certainty, I haven’t taken a test yet, but I feel like there’s a reason why I feel nauseated every morning. And it’s not just bad burritos.” You giggle as Jimin pulls you into an embrace, reacting exactly as you hoped.

“Thank you for telling me. Just for that, I’m gonna buy three pregnancy tests from here so you can see your result and confirm or deny it. Easy as that, right?” You grab his arm, burying your face in his arm out of embarrassment as people passing by glance at your direction. Maybe you didn’t want to know and leave it up to fate? Then again you’ve heard horror stories about people giving birth in bathtubs and passing away from blood loss. On second thought, you didn’t want to think about having babies until you were at least 25.

“Is it your first kid?” The cashier is an old woman, she looks between you and Jimin as she scans the items one after another.

“Mmm, yeah.” She hands you the bags as you mutter a “thank you” to her and she quickly shrieks good luck at Jimin.

Both of you return the car, your head pounding more than usual. Today, your body just wasn't having it. You were also sweaty and sticky all over from your little rendezvous in the back of the store. You can’t believe you actually bent over and let Jimin do whatever he wanted for five minutes. He finished so fast you didn’t even have time to say “What the hell?” You don’t blame him, he was a little bit stressed when you went out for dinner only to find out that your dad unknowingly invited Yoongi’s rude family and you exposed your relationship with the two of them all in the span of one night.

You were expecting more, though. A rough, thorough fucking was needed in order to restore the peace. Jimin isn’t the type of guy to crawl between your legs and take you any time, even if he says he would, he’s acting out in the only way he knows how.

Way back when you first met, Jimin never had an off-day. Now you know that he probably took that frustration out on something—or rather someone else when he was stressed. You’ve never had that problem, since you were a Virgin up until Jimin ruined you with his perfect mushroom tip. The point is, once you do the deed, you can’t go back.

You craved sex, it has become a natural part of your relationship with Jimin and Yoongi. When their dicks aren’t buried inside of you, you’re using a sex toy Jimin bought for you to use as “training.” You’re sure Jimin feels the same way, even though he could just as easily rub one out, you wanted to take it into your own hands.

But first, you needed to surprise Yoongi. Jimin retrieves the boxcutter while you work on detangling wires in the back without unplugging them. You don’t want to make the mistake of accidentally deleting one of his songs, that plot is overused. Instead, you’re careful and with Jimin’s help, you finally attach the foam boards to the wall and fix up the high quality mic, which adds more of a professional look to Yoongi’s setup. With the last few touches, you’ve finished decorating Yoongi’s makeshift recording studio in the corner of the room.

“Done in a record of 30 minutes. Go us.” He gives you a high-five before belly flopping down into his bed.

“How long did it take for you to set up whatever was here?” You ask out of curiosity. It was unlike Jimin to procrastinate, but you know he also gets the day-to-day dose of fatigue like anyone else. Your boyfriend did a lot more things outside of work than anyone else you know. You’re glad he helped you set up Yoongi’s surprise anyways.

“I don’t know, maybe a month? Me and Yoongi were really lazy with unpacking since we’re used to moving around a lot. We got kicked out of our old apartment because the landlord found out we were a gay couple. She thought we were just friends but then when I explained it to her, she just pointed her index finger at the door and told us to get out.” You hated this behavior. No one should be discriminated against over something like that either. As long as it doesn’t concern them, people shouldn’t stick their noses into others’ business.

“I’m sorry Jiminie. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, you’re good. I might’ve stretched the truth a little. You see, we didn’t get kicked out because the landlord was homophobic, we got kicked out because Yoongi got a little too wild with his music and pissed off the neighbors. We had noise complaints every night! Ah, our lives were so different at 20.”

“Aren’t you 23?” You fold your arms, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as Jimin shushes you with his own. Right as your lips touch, the door flings open and in comes your other boyfriend. “Surprise!” You pull away from Jimin as Yoongi blankly fixates his gaze on you.

“Y/N, we need to talk. You too, Jimin. You need to hear this. Your mom just told me about the early morning sickness. Is it true? Are you really pregnant?” You bite your lip and swallow your spit as Yoongi is upfront about the whole thing.

“I don’t know. That’s why when we went to the store, we brought back a couple of things. All on Jimin’s behalf, of course, but it’s still nerve-racking to actually worry about this.” You were sure to use condoms and even snuck a couple of your friends’ birth control pills regularly during school. Now that you’ve graduated, you weren’t taking them regularly so it was only natural your body would react the way it is now. Maybe you were pregnant, even though you haven’t had penis in vagina sex in a little over a week. You hated it, the empty feeling. You haven’t even gone bare yet and you’re certain that Jimin and Yoongi have most definitely jizzed over each other. There’s no way they could look at each other with so much love in their eyes as they do if they haven’t done the most they possibly could in their relationship. If anything, they deserve to get married. You’d be happy with being their side chick since that’s what you were in the beginning anyways. 

That’s also how your friendship with Jasmine and Jungkook came to an end. You were basically just a side chick to Jungkook, while Jasmine was the leading lady in that story. You’re so glad Yoongi blocked Jungkook the way he did, or else you’d still be trapped in that toxic relationship. You were also uncomfortable around him ever since he spread those horrible rumors about you around school. You’re sure Jasmine put him up to it.

You didn’t want to think about them, your current situation revolves around two men who love you equally. The three of you are partners and you do things together. Especially now since you’re worried about the possibility of being pregnant.

“Jimin and I will be here every step of the way. No matter what you decide, we’ll be here for you, always and forever, cream puff.” Yoongi smirks as you leer at him in confusion, since he gave you such a strange nickname out of nowhere.

“She kinda is like a cream puff. All flaky and tasty on the outside, while being filled with even sweeter goo on the inside.” Jimin makes it sound gross as you giggle into their shoulders, as they trap you in a group hug.

“I’m gonna go take the test now, Jimin why don’t you guide Yoongi through the new setup? It’s something I wanted to do for you, to show you my appreciation for you taking on the role of my boyfriend and mentor. You’re the best, Yoongi, and I’m sorry if I ever make you feel any less than perfect.” He rushes over to your side and before you can process what’s happening, Yoongi’s lips melded against yours, like he was made for you, you felt a cold shiver go down your spine and butterflies in your tummy. This man still gave you butterflies, even after six months of dating.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” You grin like an idiot as Jimin pushes you towards the direction of the bathroom down the hall, separating you from Yoongi as you act like teenagers in love for the first time. 

“I love you too, Yoongles.”

So you found out that you weren’t pregnant, it was a big relief but also a bit of a disappointment. You ended up getting your period soon after, a big bright red zit on your forehead appearing to top it all off. It was like icing on the cake, since your boyfriends cheered you up saying there is no way they could be good fathers to the child you were supposedly carrying in your womb. In your heart, you wanted to have kids with them. Every fibre of your being was telling you that these were the ones. Your body was never wrong. Except for crushing on Jungkook.

“I finally got in touch with my family. My parents are still mad at me for running off but they were actually pretty cool with the fact that I was bi. Apparently 2 days after I left, my older brother came out as gay and they learned to accept him because it was a lot different than they thought it was. And my older brother is the most manly man there is. I didn’t know, because I don’t keep in touch with them but after I found out, I got his number and I started texting him again. I told him about you, because I want him to warm up to the idea of us being in a relationship. Right now, he just thinks you’re my best friend and that I’m still dating Yoongi alone.” Yoongi kisses his cheek affectionately before turning to you for a kiss.

“This is the most amazing gift anyone has gotten for me. Thanks, baby. To commemorate, I’m gonna eat you out like you’ve never felt before.” You gasp as he leaves a trail of kisses on your inner thigh, shoving your shorts down and pushing the seams of your panties aside so he could force his way into your entrance with his digits.

“Guys, really? You know your father is just a room over, right Y/N?” You let out a small whine, covering your mouth with one hand while propping yourself up with another as Yoongi licks down your exposed clit and a slurping noise resounds as he continues the motion, making your legs tense up from the pleasure.

“I know, but that’s what makes it even more exciting. The thrill of knowing I can get caught any minute, like when we were in the store earlier.” You grin as Jimin rubs his neck uncomfortably, he looks like he has something on his mind but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood so he stays quiet. Yoongi slides his fingers in effortlessly before kissing your clit so gently, you can feel the individual crevices in his lips as he moves his tongue up and down.

Jimin lets out a deep breath before crawling over to your side to kiss you, so that you could moan freely into his lips as Yoongi eats you out like a starved man. You could feel your clit hardening, an embarrassing thing that happened to you often when you were in the presence of your boyfriends. A lady-boner, is what you would refer to it as. Yoongi thought it was adorable, as did Jimin. Neither of the boys held it against you because it was a sure sign that you were equally as attracted to them. You wanted to bury your face in a pillow and shy away from them, as they were better suited for each other and you were the odd one out. Right now, it would be awkward to try and run as Yoongi’s tongue is quite literally up your pussy.*[¹]

As if sensing your thoughts, Jimin kisses your neck gently and then crawls behind you. He holds you in place, watching Yoongi as he continues lapping at your folds meticulously. Your mouth hangs wide open as you try to hold in another moan, Yoongi pushing you dangerously close to your breaking point as he so gorgeously sucks your clit at an expert level. The knot in your belly is only growing bigger, making you feel congested and awful. You were sticky and sweat clung to your body all over, yet your boyfriends were still determined to pleasure you. It reminded you a bit of your romantic getaway during spring break. It feels like it happened months ago when you just recently went on that trip. No amount of time could ever be enough for you to spend with your sweethearts.

“Cum, don’t be shy. You’ve been such a good girl for us today, kit.” Jimin whispers, making you turn a bright red as you push out whatever juices you were holding in. You felt so good, it was as if you just peed after holding it in for a long time. Of course, you didn’t actually pee on him. That would be nasty. Yoongi lies next to you, opting to kiss your forehead since he had post cunnillingus breath. 

“Jimin, let me help you too. I haven’t done any work yet.” You close your eyes and you part your lips as Jimin’s rock-hard dick springs to life in front of you, making you growl as he teasingly taps it on the corners of your lips before pushing his cock between your swollen dry, cracked lips. Luckily the precum leaking from his tip solves the issue of your dry lips, since the semen stays moist and wet even as you continue sucking his cock. A bit of cum gets on your cheek and chin but you don’t mind, as long as it’s Jimin’s cum that’s painting your face a cream white. 

He giggles, taking a picture of you with his phone before sending it to your group chat. Yoongi, who was lying beside you, decides to join in on the fun, being petty before settling for fingering Jimin and you at the same time. You didn’t expect his fingers to work so diligently, as he did briefly do that with you before but now he was fingering you like he does with his keyboard. He was moving as if he was playing keys on a piano that only existed on your genitals. You and Jimin loved the feeling of it, eventually Jimin cumming in your mouth and cheeks as you came on Yoongi’s fingers. Then, he pushed your cum back into you, motioning Jimin to get in front of you. 

You marvel at how they switch places so quickly, suddenly Jimin’s tousled black hair shining as the dim lamp lighting hits it just right, and Yoongi’s face is a lot closer, so you could make out all of his well-defined features. One thing is certain; you’ll never get tired of staring at each of them. Yoongi follows your gaze, smirking as he catches your wandering eyes, and how you look at his dick in need. He easily swings his body forward so that his cock was just about stabbing you in the chin. You’re not gonna lie, no matter how many times you’ve had sex with these men, you do feel the slightest bit uncomfortable with Yoongi using your boobs as cushions. Yet, at the same time, you loved when he rubbed his nose between them, and slept on them, and just about anything else that people might find stupid and insignificant because that’s how you are.

“Yoongz, you’re slightly blocking my boobs….Getting hard to breathe.” You blink rapidly after he gets off you, now standing up and groaning as Jimin has buried his head in his ass. You sit up slightly, letting out a mewl as Jimin slides his cock so slickly inside of you.

“I love you both, so much.” You snuggle next to him as Jimin brings a damp washcloth to wipe you both down with. You closed your eyes after protesting him a good number of times, finally falling asleep in the arms of your coffee-making angels.

The next day, you wake up feeling sore. What’s new, it’s the usual soreness you feel from after “working out” with your boyfriends on select days of the week and weekends. With your father in the house, it’s much harder to carry out your more intimate activities.

You immediately panic, thinking that it was a school day, but then your worries subside when you see the date on your digital alarm clock. It was summer now, since school was officially out and you would be moving into your dorm at Pelard U soon as well.

That means you had exactly one summer to start working part time and also spend every ounce of freedom with your boyfriends without the parents interfering with your plans. You knew what you had to do, to make sure this thing with Jimin and Yoongi was set in stone.

Later that day, you stop by the country club. The only one in town, at that. You knew an associate that worked here, luckily from getting a contact at the party you snuck out to. It was a wonder you didn’t get caught by your parents, but you still had anxiety about them discovering that as well. Then again, with your father’s unpredictable behavior, who knows how they’d react? Maybe your father would give you $20 and a pat on the back. 

You managed to track down Freddy, the same guy who said he was working at this fancy place since his parents were owners of the corporation, and he quickly got you a slot for a job interview on the same day. You came prepared, with your diploma from school, your credit information, and your ID. You were also wearing a pencil skirt with a top and a matching blazer. You opted to go with a classy school girl outfit, but it was professional wear, not casual.

“What made you want to apply at Cheeve’s Country Club in the first place?” The manager, a well mannered, rounded blond stands up from his seat, his hair slicked back with gel like he was an actor on a Disney show from 2011. His plastic blue name tag reads “David” as he leans forward while interrogating you. At least, that’s what it feels like, since he decided to shut the blinds and point the lamp directly at your face, completely neglecting the purpose of closing the blinds in the first place. Instead of blocking all the light out of the room, he’s directing it at your face. All you can do is smile through the pain.

“I heard about this place from a friend. Ever since then, I’ve wanted to work here just so I can get a taste of what life will be like once I marry my boyfriend.” You weren’t lying, you had a feeling with yours, Yoongi’s, and Jimin’s combined accounts, you could possibly rake in millions per year, especially with Yoongi’s musical abilities. He just needs to get discovered now.

“I know types like you. People who waltz in here pretending like they’re gonna own the joint someday. Let me break it to ya sister: Never gonna happen. Not unless you’re marrying a millionaire or unless you have a sugar daddy. But I doubt you have the abilities to get either of those so I’ll have to ask you one last question: When a customer asks you if they pay with Credit or gold bars, what do you answer with?”

“Gold bars?”

You end up going home with a new name tag and uniform. It’s a fancy tennis skirt and a plain blue tee with the place’s name and logo on the back. You hang the uniform up in your room before heading downstairs to have a sit-down chat with your parents. You’re pretty sure they are going to talk to you about something a lot more serious, considering that you are living with your boyfriends under the same roof.

“Sweetie, we wanted to talk to you about your decision. We accepted that you’re dating both of them, but who will you choose in the long run? They’re both suitable partners and I’m sure you’ll want to marry one of them eventually so just let us know now.” Your father is completely serious, not a hint of sarcasm in his eyes. Your mother is silent as a mouse beside him, no traces of laughter in her eyes either.

“What? You guys can’t be serious. You know I’m in this either all or nothing. I have them both now and it will remain that way. You have no right to force me to choose. Especially when there was never a choice in the first place, I am choosing both of them.” Normally you had trouble even looking your father in the eye and telling him what you want, but this time you were more than confident enough to be able to stand up for your men without hesitating.

“A time will come when they stand in front of you, demanding for you to choose. What will you say then? If they don’t agree with you, then what is your alternative plan?” You had never dared to even imagine what the hell your life would be like with only one man. Yes, sure at first you had a little crush on Jimin, but after getting to know Yoongi, you grew fond of them both, equally. You know after being with them for this long, you would want nothing more than to continue growing and being like this with them both.

“It won’t happen. I know you’re worried but mom looks like she’s been holding something in. What do you want to say, mom?” You ask, sitting down on the armrest of the loveseat parked awkwardly in the corner of the room as your mother clears her throat with a fake cough.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think it’s best if the boys move out of here. Just until you go to college, having you three in the same house is a bad idea.” You can already tell by the tone of her voice that your father put her up to this.

“I agree with your mother. You three are young and full of hormones. I can’t trust that none of you would act on them. Besides, those two have been together for a very long time. I’m sure they want to get to know you as well as they know each other, intimately, but just remember; no sex before marriage.” 

You blush a bright red before murmuring a “dad,” and being ushered to the kitchen by your mother. She immediately pulls you aside after letting go of a breath, whispering in your ear with that urgency in her voice that you sensed when she asked you if you were pregnant.

“Remember, go along with everything he says. You know how your dad gets when you say no to him. Please get along, for my sake. He’s been driving me crazy these past few days because you were dating two boys who he presumed were gay. Now he looks at them like enemies, just try and understand him, even just a little.”

“Sure. I’ll try. I don’t like that my own dad is forcing me to pick my relationship, like it’s a choose your own story visual novel. It’s not a game, mom. This is real life, and my boyfriends are real people with real feelings. What’s wrong with him? Why does he think he can just walk all over me because we’re related by blood? It’s so pathetic, just because he’s unhappy doesn’t mean he has to make others miserable. No offence, mom.” You knew talking about your parents’ broken marriage was a touchy subject for your mother. She still smiled through the pain, somehow. 

Your mother is a strong woman, she knows what she wants, most of the time. She gave up her entire life after marrying your father and having you, more focused on playing the part of homemaker and raising you. It wasn’t until recently, about 4 years ago to be exact, that she became a full-time nurse at the hospital. She takes odd hours and still makes time for you. You couldn’t ask for a better mother. 

Your father however, was not happy about this. Ever since he got home he’s been making your mother toil and cook for him, forcing her to take days off just so she could wait on him, and just being downright awful to the woman who keeps this house together. You were surprised your mother hadn’t pointed out his behaviour yet. Then again, she always says, “That’s how it’s always been, ever since I married your father, after three months I knew I made a mistake.” Whenever you asked her about it, she would put on a fake smile and pretend she was okay, but you knew she was slowly dying on the inside. You talked to her about divorce multiple times but she insisted she would be right by your father’s side till the day death did them part. Yes, she is that kind of a woman. Your father doesn’t deserve her.

“None taken, just don’t bring it up in front of your father again unless he asks. Don’t tell him no, but don’t say yes either.”

“Um, okay?” You turn to go back upstairs to your room but you find Yoongi and Jimin at the foot of the staircase, frowns stiff on their faces as they hold heavy bags in either of their hands. “What are you guys doing? And why are you carrying those giant duffel bags?” Yoongi sighs, nodding at Jimin to go ahead and explain to you while he takes the giant backpack from his back and slings it around one shoulder before walking forward to load the car. “We didn’t want to tell you but now things have gotten to the point of no return.” You scratch your head. You weren’t sure if you heard him right, but Jimin was never the type to joke without giggling at least a little. He’s completely serious.

“Where are you going, Jimin?” You fold your arms, blocking his path as he sighs and pulls you in for a dramatic dip-kiss. After pulling you out of your daze you furl your brows. “Still doesn’t answer my question.”

“My brother just called. He said my parents want me and Yoongi to spend the week over there. He said they’re warming up to the fact that we’re a couple, and we can’t freak them out too much. So, we’re going down there. Thanks for being the best, Y/N. We love you, a lot. We’ll be back soon, alright?” You nod, gulping as he pulls you towards the car so you could see Yoongi off too.

“Goodbye, kitten. We’ll be back before you know it.” You close your eyes and kiss him sweetly before they drive off into the distance. You can’t believe it. Now, you’re truly alone.

                                              ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

End notes: 

[¹] It was a joke: Like ‘cat got your tongue?’ except in this case Yoongi shoved his tongue up the main oc’s pussy, like the word, cat? I know the jokes are horrendous but at least I’m trying to make something out of it.

For Reference, I was imagining Jimin like this (but his hair is bluer):

#jimin x reader #jimin x yoongi #yoongi x reader #jimin x reader x yoongi #yoonmin #poly #barista #bts poly #smut #throuple #coffeeshop #bts ff #yoongi ff #hyunglinenetwork #bts #18+

[mr-entj]

Mental Health Wellness Tips for Quarantine

Sharing a piece a clinical psychologist in my network published.

______________

After having thirty-one sessions this week with patients where the singular focus was COVID-19 and how to cope, I decided to consolidate my advice and make a list that I hope is helpful to all. I can't control a lot of what is going on right now, but I can contribute this.

Edit: I am surprised and heartened that this has been shared so widely! People have asked me to credential myself, so to that end, I am a doctoral level Psychologist in NYS with a Psy.D. in the specialities of School and Clinical Psychology.

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

2. Dress for the social life you want, not the social life you have. Get showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, wash your face, brush your teeth. Take the time to do a bath or a facial. Put on some bright colors. It is amazing how our dress can impact our mood.

3. Get out at least once a day, for at least thirty minutes. If you are concerned of contact, try first thing in the morning, or later in the evening, and try less traveled streets and avenues. If you are high risk or living with those who are high risk, open the windows and blast the fan. It is amazing how much fresh air can do for spirits.

4. Find some time to move each day, again daily for at least thirty minutes. If you don’t feel comfortable going outside, there are many YouTube videos that offer free movement classes, and if all else fails, turn on the music and have a dance party!

5. Reach out to others, you guessed it, at least once daily for thirty minutes. Try to do FaceTime, Skype, phone calls, texting—connect with other people to seek and provide support. Don’t forget to do this for your children as well. Set up virtual playdates with friends daily via FaceTime, Facebook Messenger Kids, Zoom, etc—your kids miss their friends, too!

6. Stay hydrated and eat well. This one may seem obvious, but stress and eating often don’t mix well, and we find ourselves over-indulging, forgetting to eat, and avoiding food. Drink plenty of water, eat some good and nutritious foods, and challenge yourself to learn how to cook something new!

7. Develop a self-care toolkit. This can look different for everyone. A lot of successful self-care strategies involve a sensory component (seven senses: touch, taste, sight, hearing, smell, vestibular (movement) and proprioceptive (comforting pressure). An idea for each: a soft blanket or stuffed animal, a hot chocolate, photos of vacations, comforting music, lavender or eucalyptus oil, a small swing or rocking chair, a weighted blanket. A journal, an inspirational book, or a mandala coloring book is wonderful, bubbles to blow or blowing watercolor on paper through a straw are visually appealing as well as work on controlled breath. Mint gum, Listerine strips, ginger ale, frozen Starburst, ice packs, and cold are also good for anxiety regulation. For children, it is great to help them create a self-regulation comfort box (often a shoe-box or bin they can decorate) that they can use on the ready for first-aid when overwhelmed.

8. Spend extra time playing with children. Children will rarely communicate how they are feeling, but will often make a bid for attention and communication through play. Don’t be surprised to see therapeutic themes of illness, doctor visits, and isolation play through. Understand that play is cathartic and helpful for children—it is how they process their world and problem solve, and there’s a lot they are seeing and experiencing in the now.

9. Give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and a wide berth. A lot of cooped up time can bring out the worst in everyone. Each person will have moments when they will not be at their best. It is important to move with grace through blowups, to not show up to every argument you are invited to, and to not hold grudges and continue disagreements. Everyone is doing the best they can to make it through this.

10. Everyone find their own retreat space. Space is at a premium, particularly with city living. It is important that people think through their own separate space for work and for relaxation. For children, help them identify a place where they can go to retreat when stressed. You can make this place cozy by using blankets, pillows, cushions, scarves, beanbags, tents, and “forts”. It is good to know that even when we are on top of each other, we have our own special place to go to be alone.

11. Expect behavioral issues in children, and respond gently. We are all struggling with disruption in routine, none more than children, who rely on routines constructed by others to make them feel safe and to know what comes next. Expect increased anxiety, worries and fears, nightmares, difficulty separating or sleeping, testing limits, and meltdowns. Do not introduce major behavioral plans or consequences at this time—hold stable and focus on emotional connection.

12. Focus on safety and attachment. We are going to be living for a bit with the unprecedented demand of meeting all work deadlines, homeschooling children, running a sterile household, and making a whole lot of entertainment in confinement. We can get wrapped up in meeting expectations in all domains, but we must remember that these are scary and unpredictable times for children. Focus on strengthening the connection through time spent following their lead, through physical touch, through play, through therapeutic books, and via verbal reassurances that you will be there for them in this time.

13. Lower expectations and practice radical self-acceptance. This idea is connected with #12. We are doing too many things in this moment, under fear and stress. This does not make a formula for excellence. Instead, give yourself what psychologists call “radical self acceptance”: accepting everything about yourself, your current situation, and your life without question, blame, or pushback. You cannot fail at this—there is no roadmap, no precedent for this, and we are all truly doing the best we can in an impossible situation.

14. Limit social media and COVID conversation, especially around children. One can find tons of information on COVID-19 to consume, and it changes minute to minute. The information is often sensationalized, negatively skewed, and alarmist. Find a few trusted sources that you can check in with consistently, limit it to a few times a day, and set a time limit for yourself on how much you consume (again 30 minutes tops, 2-3 times daily). Keep news and alarming conversations out of earshot from children—they see and hear everything, and can become very frightened by what they hear.

15. Notice the good in the world, the helpers. There is a lot of scary, negative, and overwhelming information to take in regarding this pandemic. There are also a ton of stories of people sacrificing, donating, and supporting one another in miraculous ways. It is important to counter-balance the heavy information with the hopeful information.

16. Help others. Find ways, big and small, to give back to others. Support restaurants, offer to grocery shop, check in with elderly neighbors, write psychological wellness tips for others—helping others gives us a sense of agency when things seem out of control.

17. Find something you can control, and control the heck out of it. In moments of big uncertainty and overwhelm, control your little corner of the world. Organize your bookshelf, purge your closet, put together that furniture, group your toys. It helps to anchor and ground us when the bigger things are chaotic.

18. Find a long-term project to dive into. Now is the time to learn how to play the keyboard, put together a huge jigsaw puzzle, start a 15 hour game of Risk, paint a picture, read the Harry Potter series, binge watch an 8-season show, crochet a blanket, solve a Rubix cube, or develop a new town in Animal Crossing. Find something that will keep you busy, distracted, and engaged to take breaks from what is going on in the outside world.

19. Engage in repetitive movements and left-right movements. Research has shown that repetitive movement (knitting, coloring, painting, clay sculpting, jump roping etc) especially left-right movement (running, drumming, skating, hopping) can be effective at self-soothing and maintaining self-regulation in moments of distress.

20. Find an expressive art and go for it. Our emotional brain is very receptive to the creative arts, and it is a direct portal for release of feeling. Find something that is creative (sculpting, drawing, dancing, music, singing, playing) and give it your all. See how relieved you can feel. It is a very effective way of helping kids to emote and communicate as well!

21. Find lightness and humor in each day. There is a lot to be worried about, and with good reason. Counterbalance this heaviness with something funny each day: cat videos on YouTube, a stand-up show on Netflix, a funny movie—we all need a little comedic relief in our day, every day.

22. Reach out for help—your team is there for you. If you have a therapist or psychiatrist, they are available to you, even at a distance. Keep up your medications and your therapy sessions the best you can. If you are having difficulty coping, seek out help for the first time. There are mental health people on the ready to help you through this crisis. Your children’s teachers and related service providers will do anything within their power to help, especially for those parents tasked with the difficult task of being a whole treatment team to their child with special challenges. Seek support groups of fellow home-schoolers, parents, and neighbors to feel connected. There is help and support out there, any time of the day—although we are physically distant, we can always connect virtually.

23. “Chunk” your quarantine, take it moment by moment. We have no road map for this. We don’t know what this will look like in 1 day, 1 week, or 1 month from now. Often, when I work with patients who have anxiety around overwhelming issues, I suggest that they engage in a strategy called “chunking”—focusing on whatever bite-sized piece of a challenge that feels manageable. Whether that be 5 minutes, a day, or a week at a time—find what feels doable for you, and set a time stamp for how far ahead in the future you will let yourself worry. Take each chunk one at a time, and move through stress in pieces.

24. Remind yourself daily that this is temporary. It seems in the midst of this quarantine that it will never end. It is terrifying to think of the road stretching ahead of us. Please take time to remind yourself that although this is very scary and difficult, and will go on for an undetermined amount of time, it is a season of life and it will pass. We will return to feeing free, safe, busy, and connected in the days ahead.

25. Find the lesson. This whole crisis can seem sad, senseless, and at times, avoidable. When psychologists work with trauma, a key feature to helping someone work through said trauma is to help them find their agency, the potential positive outcomes they can effect, the meaning and construction that can come out of destruction. What can each of us learn here, in big and small ways, from this crisis? What needs to change in ourselves, our homes, our communities, our nation, and our world?

(x)

#coronavirus #covid-19 #stress #mental health #fear #anxiety #mental wellness #psychology #life #resource

[troublecominghq]

character name(s)/alias/etc: erden yul-khurel

character age and date of birth: 24 // year 97

character's pronouns/gender identity/romantic & sexual identity: any and all, omnigender, pansexual

character faceclaim: david chiang (mainly)

oc or canon + which fandom affiliated with: oc, mainly based in grishaverse

currently located: treod

moral alignment + people/groups etc they are aligned to: chaotic neutral, born in shu han, but it’s complicated. currently their strongest connection is to grisha in general.

tell us about their personality/the kind of character they are/what kind of goals etc they have: erden enjoys change, creating fleeting shells of people to play around with, almost as if playing dress-up, fooling and confusing those around them. he likes constructing stories about her past and plans for future, dropping them moments later like old skin. in general, erden adjusts to new places and situations exceptionally well.

beyond that, erden is social, but closeted about personal matters and not particularly confrontational, although ey are willing to do nearly anything to keep zir freedom. erden fears fae past and bloody terrors that lurk and is terrified that they might repeat once again.

xyr main goal is to gain enough power and alliances to dismantle the current cruel system that exists in shu han, forcing grisha to lead a life of suffering and misery. erden has been looking towards ravka as a potential force that could aid this. nir more personal goal, something that is rarely spoken about, it to simply find a place to belong. ve believes that ve can’t do it without reversing the things that were done to er in shu han.

biography: erden didn’t have a pleasant childhood, and vis youth was filled with little more than misery and suffering. born in shu han, they discovered their powers for changing both her own appearance and that of others, which came as natural as breathing. erden’s parents were scared of this gift, because they knew how people like him, how grisha were treated in shu han. they urged fae to keep quiet about it, to not let it show to anyone past their small rural community, as remote and closely knit as it was poor and isolated from much of the other world.

but erden didn’t, ne couldn’t grasp the full danger at such a young age, not from something that made nem feel so alive.

and so the word spread, and when a group of armed men and others, people who called themselves ‘scientists’ arrived, erden’s parents only watched as ey was dragged away, scared and confused. later, looking back at it, ze hardly found any blame for them in zirself. he wasn’t the only child, and whatever little coin his parents got for ther silent compliance went to feeding his siblings for a couple more days. it hurt. but over the years erden solidified the belief that it was solely her own fault, because of her carelessness and unwillingness to listen.

the years that came after that were filled with blank holes in xyr memories, broken up by bright, clean rooms, people asking questions, people demanding to see xyr powers, people not talking, only coming and going with food, but more often needles, vials and machines erden had never seen before. fae rarely saw others housed in the same facilities, got to talk with them ever less, and as time went on the amount of faces around erden, faces of those dressed in the same dirty white garbs, shrunk even more. using their powers were difficult some days, and easier than ever before on others, but now there was often a sickly feeling that followed them, as if the people, their vials and needles had somehow dirtied them.

vis escape was more of a lucky coincidence than something meticulously planned. he was brought back to his cramped room as an explosion shook the part of the building erden was in, and then filled the halls with flames. an inferni broken loose.

it caused just the right amount of chaos for erden to slip through the cracks. some quite literally, first the cracks in a wall, then blasted part of a fence. the inferni wasn’t quite as lucky. erden saw them, running through the grounds surrounding the facility, a knocked out guard’s uniform thrown over zir clothes hastily, saw the figure surrounded by flames, raining fire left and right. much later she could also faintly recall shrill laughter. back then however, the only thing erden heard were three shots, ringing out one after another. the inferni fell and erden ran until their legs gave out.

somehow fae managed to reach bhez ju, and there erden found the first bit of luck in her entire life. a woman who found him in an alley, unable to keep his form from changing constantly, features flowing from one thing to another, hair, eyes and skin changing their shade by the minute. for a moment he thought he would get handed back to the horrible place he had just broken out of, sold again for a couple coins, but the woman spoke to him kindly and brought him on board of a ship.

erden was fifteen when xe left the coast of shu han aboard a (part-time) pirate ship.

ve weren’t the only grisha there, there were other refugees, most of them much older or much younger than ver, families or adult grisha. in fact, the only other person around their age there was a young tidemaker named aven, the son of the ship’s owners, and although their relationship hardly flourished quite possibly due to erdens frail mental state, the image of the tidemaker stayed forever burned in his brain, so much more in control of his powers, so confident in everything.

erden wanted to become someone like that.

faer saviour’s kindness extended even further, bringing him to a group of other corporalki in novyi zem, other refugees just like fae, ready to accept erden in their little group. all the smugglers asked for in return was a favor, cashed in at some point in the future, and erden happily agreed to these terms.

then their world shattered once more, because as they tried to use their powers again, fear of them lessened by being surrounded by people just like them, erden found out that they could do as much as change a single hair on someone else’s head. the bound that connected ver to the rest of the world had been severed.

instead, he could manipulate his own appearance in ways unimaginable to him before. it was easy, almost too easy, slipping from one thing into another, so easy that sometimes she had to put in effort to avoid it.

it was strange and terrifying, and the other corporalki were as baffled by it as erden zirself.

they needed answers, so, after gaining some footing and earning a bit of money in novyi zem, erden set out to find other grisha, anything at all that might bring them closer to curing whatever was done to them.

he spent several years wandering around novyi zem, finding various grisha communities that had flowed there from all around the world, various in their knowledge and power, but all equally in the dark about his condition. so fae went further and further, until one day fae crossed some invisible barrier separating the regular world from… the world beyond.

erden found other magic users. ones who weren’t grisha.

it was a small village, barely counting a couple hundred people living among the ruins of a city that had once been much larger. they spoke an ancient kind of zemeni, knew and cared little for the outside world, and were amused by erden’s twisted powers enough to let her stay.

and so ey did, for three years, learning their language, learning about their culture and traditions, but most importantly learning their magic. they called it the magic of words, or the game of words, as simple as that, and only much later, in a library in l’osau they would find another name for it, lithomancy. during those three years, however, erden was much more concerned with how the magic worked. it could take one thing and turn it into something completely else, as long as he could build a bridge made of words between the two things. ze saw a flame wrote the word “heat” and made it melt tin without the flame ever touching it. it was only a small part of what it could do, and erden saw that the elders of the village could make things flow from one into another, from thought to object and back with little effort. but even they couldn’t cure xem, not knowing the name for xyr illness, and, above all, not believing it to be an illness at all. after all, erded didn’t actually have to write any words. she could just make them appear on her skin.

but fae had learned one thing now, that there was more magic out in the world, and if this kind of it wasn’t the answer, there might still be another one out there that could be the key. not only for erden, but all grisha in shu han.

they thought about the inferni who had let them escape, recalled the laughter and the shots again and again, before finally setting out to see what the rest of the world had to offer.

and so ey set out to see the southern colonies, then treod and albion, finding the secret doors to some of their secrets, trying to find new friends, new lessons and new alliances.

character emoji: found in server.

mun information

name: t

age: 20

pronouns: they/them

timezone: eet / eest

triggers: none.

#application #admin app

[islamicrays]

I found this useful.............💗Advice from a psychologist:

After having thirty-one sessions this week with patients where the singular focus was COVID-19 and how to cope, I decided to consolidate my advice and make a list that I hope is helpful to all. I can't control a lot of what is going on right now, but I can contribute this.

Edit: I am surprised and heartened that this has been shared so widely! People have asked me to credential myself, so to that end, I am a doctoral level Psychologist in NYS with a Psy.D. in the specialities of School and Clinical Psychology.

MENTAL HEALTH WELLNESS TIPS FOR QUARANTINE

1. Stick to a routine. Go to sleep and wake up at a reasonable time, write a schedule that is varied and includes time for work as well as self-care.

2. Dress for the social life you want, not the social life you have. Get showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, wash your face, brush your teeth. Take the time to do a bath or a facial. Put on some bright colors. It is amazing how our dress can impact our mood.

3. Get out at least once a day, for at least thirty minutes. If you are concerned of contact, try first thing in the morning, or later in the evening, and try less traveled streets and avenues. If you are high risk or living with those who are high risk, open the windows and blast the fan. It is amazing how much fresh air can do for spirits.

4. Find some time to move each day, again daily for at least thirty minutes. If you don’t feel comfortable going outside, there are many YouTube videos that offer free movement classes, and if all else fails, turn on the music and have a dance party!

5. Reach out to others, you guessed it, at least once daily for thirty minutes. Try to do FaceTime, Skype, phone calls, texting—connect with other people to seek and provide support. Don’t forget to do this for your children as well. Set up virtual playdates with friends daily via FaceTime, Facebook Messenger Kids, Zoom, etc—your kids miss their friends, too!

6. Stay hydrated and eat well. This one may seem obvious, but stress and eating often don’t mix well, and we find ourselves over-indulging, forgetting to eat, and avoiding food. Drink plenty of water, eat some good and nutritious foods, and challenge yourself to learn how to cook something new!

7. Develop a self-care toolkit. This can look different for everyone. A lot of successful self-care strategies involve a sensory component (seven senses: touch, taste, sight, hearing, smell, vestibular (movement) and proprioceptive (comforting pressure). An idea for each: a soft blanket or stuffed animal, a hot chocolate, photos of vacations, comforting music, lavender or eucalyptus oil, a small swing or rocking chair, a weighted blanket. A journal, an inspirational book, or a mandala coloring book is wonderful, bubbles to blow or blowing watercolor on paper through a straw are visually appealing as well as work on controlled breath. Mint gum, Listerine strips, ginger ale, frozen Starburst, ice packs, and cold are also good for anxiety regulation. For children, it is great to help them create a self-regulation comfort box (often a shoe-box or bin they can decorate) that they can use on the ready for first-aid when overwhelmed.

8. Spend extra time playing with children. Children will rarely communicate how they are feeling, but will often make a bid for attention and communication through play. Don’t be surprised to see therapeutic themes of illness, doctor visits, and isolation play through. Understand that play is cathartic and helpful for children—it is how they process their world and problem solve, and there’s a lot they are seeing and experiencing in the now.

9. Give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and a wide berth. A lot of cooped up time can bring out the worst in everyone. Each person will have moments when they will not be at their best. It is important to move with grace through blowups, to not show up to every argument you are invited to, and to not hold grudges and continue disagreements. Everyone is doing the best they can to make it through this.

10. Everyone find their own retreat space. Space is at a premium, particularly with city living. It is important that people think through their own separate space for work and for relaxation. For children, help them identify a place where they can go to retreat when stressed. You can make this place cozy by using blankets, pillows, cushions, scarves, beanbags, tents, and “forts”. It is good to know that even when we are on top of each other, we have our own special place to go to be alone.

11. Expect behavioral issues in children, and respond gently. We are all struggling with disruption in routine, none more than children, who rely on routines constructed by others to make them feel safe and to know what comes next. Expect increased anxiety, worries and fears, nightmares, difficulty separating or sleeping, testing limits, and meltdowns. Do not introduce major behavioral plans or consequences at this time—hold stable and focus on emotional connection.

12. Focus on safety and attachment. We are going to be living for a bit with the unprecedented demand of meeting all work deadlines, homeschooling children, running a sterile household, and making a whole lot of entertainment in confinement. We can get wrapped up in meeting expectations in all domains, but we must remember that these are scary and unpredictable times for children. Focus on strengthening the connection through time spent following their lead, through physical touch, through play, through therapeutic books, and via verbal reassurances that you will be there for them in this time.

13. Lower expectations and practice radical self-acceptance. This idea is connected with #12. We are doing too many things in this moment, under fear and stress. This does not make a formula for excellence. Instead, give yourself what psychologists call “radical self acceptance”: accepting everything about yourself, your current situation, and your life without question, blame, or pushback. You cannot fail at this—there is no roadmap, no precedent for this, and we are all truly doing the best we can in an impossible situation.

14. Limit social media and COVID conversation, especially around children. One can find tons of information on COVID-19 to consume, and it changes minute to minute. The information is often sensationalized, negatively skewed, and alarmist. Find a few trusted sources that you can check in with consistently, limit it to a few times a day, and set a time limit for yourself on how much you consume (again 30 minutes tops, 2-3 times daily). Keep news and alarming conversations out of earshot from children—they see and hear everything, and can become very frightened by what they hear.

15. Notice the good in the world, the helpers. There is a lot of scary, negative, and overwhelming information to take in regarding this pandemic. There are also a ton of stories of people sacrificing, donating, and supporting one another in miraculous ways. It is important to counter-balance the heavy information with the hopeful information.

16. Help others. Find ways, big and small, to give back to others. Support restaurants, offer to grocery shop, check in with elderly neighbors, write psychological wellness tips for others—helping others gives us a sense of agency when things seem out of control.

17. Find something you can control, and control the heck out of it. In moments of big uncertainty and overwhelm, control your little corner of the world. Organize your bookshelf, purge your closet, put together that furniture, group your toys. It helps to anchor and ground us when the bigger things are chaotic.

18. Find a long-term project to dive into. Now is the time to learn how to play the keyboard, put together a huge jigsaw puzzle, start a 15 hour game of Risk, paint a picture, read the Harry Potter series, binge watch an 8-season show, crochet a blanket, solve a Rubix cube, or develop a new town in Animal Crossing. Find something that will keep you busy, distracted, and engaged to take breaks from what is going on in the outside world.

19. Engage in repetitive movements and left-right movements. Research has shown that repetitive movement (knitting, coloring, painting, clay sculpting, jump roping etc) especially left-right movement (running, drumming, skating, hopping) can be effective at self-soothing and maintaining self-regulation in moments of distress.

20. Find an expressive art and go for it. Our emotional brain is very receptive to the creative arts, and it is a direct portal for release of feeling. Find something that is creative (sculpting, drawing, dancing, music, singing, playing) and give it your all. See how relieved you can feel. It is a very effective way of helping kids to emote and communicate as well!

21. Find lightness and humor in each day. There is a lot to be worried about, and with good reason. Counterbalance this heaviness with something funny each day: cat videos on YouTube, a stand-up show on Netflix, a funny movie—we all need a little comedic relief in our day, every day.

22. Reach out for help—your team is there for you. If you have a therapist or psychiatrist, they are available to you, even at a distance. Keep up your medications and your therapy sessions the best you can. If you are having difficulty coping, seek out help for the first time. There are mental health people on the ready to help you through this crisis. Your children’s teachers and related service providers will do anything within their power to help, especially for those parents tasked with the difficult task of being a whole treatment team to their child with special challenges. Seek support groups of fellow home-schoolers, parents, and neighbors to feel connected. There is help and support out there, any time of the day—although we are physically distant, we can always connect virtually.

23. “Chunk” your quarantine, take it moment by moment. We have no road map for this. We don’t know what this will look like in 1 day, 1 week, or 1 month from now. Often, when I work with patients who have anxiety around overwhelming issues, I suggest that they engage in a strategy called “chunking”—focusing on whatever bite-sized piece of a challenge that feels manageable. Whether that be 5 minutes, a day, or a week at a time—find what feels doable for you, and set a time stamp for how far ahead in the future you will let yourself worry. Take each chunk one at a time, and move through stress in pieces.

24. Remind yourself daily that this is temporary. It seems in the midst of this quarantine that it will never end. It is terrifying to think of the road stretching ahead of us. Please take time to remind yourself that although this is very scary and difficult, and will go on for an undetermined amount of time, it is a season of life and it will pass. We will return to feeing free, safe, busy, and connected in the days ahead.

25. Find the lesson. This whole crisis can seem sad, senseless, and at times, avoidable. When psychologists work with trauma, a key feature to helping someone work through said trauma is to help them find their agency, the potential positive outcomes they can effect, the meaning and construction that can come out of destruction. What can each of us learn here, in big and small ways, from this crisis? What needs to change in ourselves, our homes, our communities, our nation, and our world?

Source: Unknown

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