#but my stupid ass just remembered i still have a stash of my poison in a box that i forgot about

[yourwildsimp]

Typically

This makes many references to No Regrets (an insight on Levi before he enrolled in the Scouts.) I also tried a new writing style, so please, give me feedback!

includes: Erwin, Levi

warnings: alcoholic themes, depression, PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), mentions of suicidal thoughts/actions

length: 2,028 words

•°•°•°•

Erwin Smith was typically content in his mattress by 10:30, praying to whatever gods that may (or may not) be out there that his slumber would be blissful and refreshing. He typically knew of his subordinates' locations and their relative mental states this late into any given night. He typically had most of his paperwork signed and stacked into a neat, organized pile.

Though tonight, as trepidation rolled over him in slow, progressing waves, Erwin Smith was neither content nor situated in a well-put-together office. He did not know where the Captain was or when the elusive man would return. He did not know beforehand that multiple contracts would need the Captain's signature. Hell, Erwin did not know if Levi could even write in cursive. At the moment, he did not know a lot of things.

Erwin wasn't exactly enthusiastic about experiencing these feelings of troubling uncertainty.

The dense thud of staggering boots on the half-rotted wooden flooring impeded Erwin's vexing thoughts. Moving from his spot by the window that overlooked the training grounds, he hastily stalked towards his office door. Yet as his fingertips were mere inches from the handle, the door slammed open, catching the Commander off guard.

Erwin back-stepped as no one other than Levi himself lost his footing from kicking the door open. The door frame was the only thing that aided Levi's attempt at steadying his balance; Erwin was far too focused on darting his bewildered eyes over Levi's condition.

Was the blunt and foul-mouthed Levi Ackerman. . . Drunk?

No, that couldn't be right. The man despised everything about alcohol: the lasting effects, the heavy smell, the noxious health problems. Every time the Corps tried to get Levi to drink, he had remarked about booze being nothing more than poison marketed as a miracle tonic. But, what else could explain the unfocused eyes that were typically sharp and observant or the swaying small frame that was typically nimble and composed?

"Have you been drinking, Levi? You look terrible."

The vicious scowl Erwin received told him that the way he worded his concern was extremely misinterpreted.

"Oh, fuck you, jackass. Not everyone can look like a shining star, Smith." Levi's words were unnaturally slurred, further proving what Erwin refused to accept. "Get outta my way and let me in."

Erwin cautiously stepped to the side- as he'd rather keep this peculiar sight to himself and spare the Captain's dignity. Levi's shoulder shoved against Erwin's bicep as he stumbled into the Commander's office. A snarl remarking Erwin's height was woven into the tense atmosphere of the room.

"Where have you been?" Erwin asked as he gently shut the door, keeping an apprehensive gaze on Levi.

He simply received a distracted scoff. Erwin took a deep breath before he huffed out of his nose. He watched as Levi fumbled through various unlocked drawers in search of who-knows-what.

"Levi-"

"Where's your Devil's water, Smith?" Erwin narrowed his eyes in confusion before Levi, belligerently, elaborated. "Your liquor, dip-shit. Where have you stashed it?"

Erwin pressed his lips into a thin line before he offered a calculated answer, "I don't hide alcohol in my office." A spiteful string of obscenities left Levi's swollen lips, the drunk balling his fist tight by his sides. "Liar! You're a filthy deceiver, you know that? You're worth less than the shit in the stables! A sleaze bag from the Underground would be more helpful than you!"

Erwin paused, studying Levi like Hange would study a Titan. "Are you okay, Levi?" He knew the question was redundant the moment the words left his lips.

“Fuck!” Levi yelled, tugging on his already loose cravat. “Am I okay? What kind of bullshit question is that? Hell, my uncle used to tell me that life’s like a toilet paper roll; you’re either on a roll or taking shit from some asshole- and you know what? You’re that asshole, Smith!”

"Be careful of the open window, Levi," Erwin warned, as polished and unwavering as ever. His indifference to the slew of insults and profanities made Levi's blood boil.

Erwin only moved closer when the Captain disregarded his warning and continued to near the dangerously open casement. Erwin tuned out the vulgarities that were continuously hurled at him with an intense enmity, the gears clicking together in his head.

There was a chance Levi's destination was through the window- a chance Erwin was not willing to take.

"What are you doing? You're going to fall out," Erwin said more forcefully.

The change in the Commander's tone didn't seem to phase Levi, who was resting his forearms on the window sill. As Levi's weight shifted to his unstable upper body, Erwin could feel his heartbeat pounding in his throat, temples, fingertips- everywhere except his chest.

Levi went quiet, his drunken tantrum utterly forgotten as childlike wonder filled his eyes. In the moment of calm after the storm, Erwin couldn't fail to notice that Levi looked so much younger when he wasn't so pent up. The Captain was significantly more demonstrative when he was intoxicated; and may it be good or bad, Erwin was content with Levi seeming mortal.

"He used to hate heights, and she smoked him for it," Levi broke the moment of silence with hardly a whisper. "It was all a game to her."

Erwin's features, which were glazed over with faux insouciant, didn't match the curious gaze he studied Levi with. He stood inert, fearful of scaring Levi into a diligent silence or another aggressive episode. Erwin didn't ask for extensive details, nor did he implore Levi to move away from the window again. He simply waited, having an idea of what was plaguing his inebriated soldier's mind.

"You know, when you found me, we were heading to get a job done," Levi spoke so softly that Erwin felt the need to hold his breath to hear him properly.

The Commander took Levi's brief pause as an opening to speak, despite having nothing to say. "Is that so?"

Levi exhaled something grim; something that nearly sounded like an empty chuckle. "Yeah, Smith, it is."

Levi ignored how Erwin wearily moved closer as he adjusted himself further out of the window. The Captain relished in a twisted feeling of pride knowing that he could make his superior jump to aid him, that he could make the man twitch with such a deep sense of uneasiness- so much so that it shone in his perceptive blue eyes.

"Levi, get away from-"

"He was so nervous for the mission, despite it being so. . . " Levi swayed his hand through the night air, searching for the right word after cutting Erwin, and his concerns, off. "So pointless," is what he settled for.

"It was just a run-through," he huffed out a sigh, "check the brothel for any kids, start trouble if there were. Then, haul ass to the surface to get the brats to somewhere safer. Simple, right?"

Erwin swallowed, his gaze settling on Levi's reflection in the mirror.

"But, something always has to fuck me over," Levi spat with a clenched jaw, capturing the window sill in an iron grip. "Isn't that right?! You simply adore dancing all of your puppets around until they can't take it anymore- but you don't stop, do you?!" Levi screamed at the full moon in the sky.

Erwin sharply exhaled through his nose, Levi swaying side to side like empty ODM gear in the breeze. Levi swore and stretched his fingers out to relieve the tension in them.

"I bumped into a guy whose ego was as big as his body. The bastard was huge and wouldn't let it go." Levi hung his head, the stars bringing back memories he'd rather forget. "I think you were there when we had settled the issue and took off."

Erwin remembers like it happened yesterday. He could never forget the first time he saw Levi fly on the Wings of Revolution; it was enchanting.

Levi outstretched his arm, one foot leaving the floor as he reached to the giant moon glowing against the night sky.

"Levi, you need to stop being heedless, or you'll fall and end up dead!" Erwin finally snapped, his hand darting to grab Levi's. He missed his target, the shorter one moving unexpectedly and making Erwin snatch his pale forearm.

The wind from the chill night ruffled the forgotten paperwork on Erwin's desk, Levi's eerily hollow chuckle overlaying the white noise. Empty steel-gray finally looked into Erwin's ocean blues, heavy-lidded and worn thin.

"Don't you know I'm stupid? The hell does 'heedless' mean, blondie?" Levi wore a painful grin.

Erwin furrowed his brow in worry, loosening his grip but not letting go. "Careless," he said gently, thumbing fondly at Levi's flushed skin. "It means. . . Careless."

Levi's bottom lip trembled, and Erwin swore he saw his small body twitch with a hiccup. "Maybe that's what I want, Commander- to end up dead," Levi breathed, sending a cold surge through Erwin.

"Hey, don't say that," Erwin said quickly in a hushed tone. His free hand gently cupped Levi's shoulder.

"Why not?" Levi's voice was so small. It scared Erwin. "Every time I shut my eyes at night, all I see is their faces, hear them call my name." Erwin could feel Levi trembling.

"I know, Levi. By the walls, I know how it feels to begin to go numb. How it is to lose everything close to you, and still need to press onwards," Erwin murmured.

"Oh, sure. You see the face of every comrade that you've sent to death in your dreams. I'm sure you remember each and every soldier." The sarcastic bite in Levi's tone made Erwin unhand the man's arm.

"Excuse me. . ?" Erwin breathed, stupidly hoping he had misheard Levi.

"You don't know how it feels to be looked at like a human shit stain for simply trying to survive! You're just Mr. Fucking Perfect, right?" Levi's fruitless attempt to push Erwin away by his chest only agitated the blonde.

"Another pompous asshole that wouldn't hesitate to judge me from getting on all fours back then just to be able to eat twice a week!" Levi's (false) accusations were making Erwin increasingly angry.

"You're no different than everyone in the Capital-"

"You'd better watch your mouth, Ackerman."

Levi sucked in a short breath so quickly, it made his throat dry up; though, that might've been caused by the snarl of his surname. He didn't get another chance to speak as Erwin loomed over his frame.

"Who gave you an escape route when you had nowhere else to turn? Was it the Capital? Who was it that believed in you when everyone else wanted you to hang? The Capital, perhaps? Apologies, my memory is hazy."

Levi had seen Erwin agitated, seen him berate cadets and superiors alike with no backlash. But the man was always so poised and assured. Sure, the unsettlingly strong fire behind his crystal eyes was never smothered, but it was not once openly expressed.

Until now.

It had Levi- the nephew of Kenny the Ripper, the Captain of the 104th Cadet Corp, Humanity's Strongest Soldier- intimidated enough to shrink in on himself.

"I don't mean to scare you, Levi. I truly don't. But when you have the audacity to lump me into the crowd of discriminatory pedophiles and rapists? After everything I have done for you?" Erwin scoffed, ending his rant.

"I-I... I'm-"

"I don't want you to apologize. It's difficult to believe that you would. It's just not like you," Erwin swallowed thickly as Levi sniffled.

"Levi, I-" Erwin cut himself off, clenching his jaw.

Want you. Need you.

I think I'm in love with you. What a dream it would be to say. But he shouldn't. And he won't.

"You should sober up here while I get work done. How does that sound?" Erwin felt the urge to vomit after those words burned off his tongue.

"Thank you," Levi hardly whispered. "Thank you, Erwin."

Closing his eyes tightly, Erwin nodded, leading Levi to the couch the was sitting against the sidewall.

"Of course, Levi. I would do anything for you."

#erwin smith #snk erwin #snk levi #levi ackerman #aot erwin #levi attack on titan #levi aot #eruri #erwin x levi #levi x erwin #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #angst #aot angst #pain lmao #big sad #so many tags #tw ptsd #tw drinking #tw #tw sucidal thoughts #tw depressing stuff #tw alcohol

[itsblissfuloblivion]

Torch - Chapter 7: March

we’re back! and we love this chapter so so much because it’s fluffy and aaaaah, we’re getting THERE, aren’t we, folks!

read at leisure on Ao3 and FFnet

.

After Ron’s dung heap of a birthday, Harry really is inclined to feel sorry for his best mate and definitely to be grateful he’s not dead - in that way he’ll probably never actually say without a few belts of firewhiskey and maybe a bit of Veritaserum.  And not because of any macho preening idiocy but just because Harry’s not particularly a fan of sharing feelings with anyone . If he can blame the Dursleys for anything…

It’s all beside the point though - Ron’s his stupid best mate and he’s glad he’s still alive to fill the role but the whole post-poisoning drama is driving Harry batty. First, the decrease in Ron in Harry’s daily life has been replaced by the obnoxia of McLaggen’s repeated and increasingly detailed pleas, arguments, and demands to take his ‘rightful’ place as Gryffindor’s Keeper. Which is grating enough without ‘Lav-Lav’ attempting to supplement her boyfriend’s usual emotional support with Harry’s admittedly reluctant and bare responses.

He’d maybe be willing to make an attempt at being moderately helpful or at least not rude , but between the conflicting stresses of classes, Quidditch, lessons with Dumbledore, and figuring out whatever the hell Malfoy’s up to - Harry’s patience is stretched quite thin.

Not only is everyone creating drama that really all comes back down to romance in one way or another, but Harry’s life remains woefully intense with none of the snogging related benefits. And his increasingly creative subconscious is a double edged sword in all of this - waking up in the aftermath is simultaneously disappointing and terrifying.

Who knows if he’s a sleep talker and who knows if Dean’s suddenly a light sleeper. One of these days he’s going to wake up with Dean and Seamus standing over him ready to beat Voldemort to offing him.

Which all leads to Harry stalking through the halls not unlike a certain former Potions Master and the comparison only puts Harry in a worse mood.

On one such stalk through the castle, he finds himself no longer alone in his brooding when Ginny slips up next to him as he breaches the entry hall and reaches the sunlit grounds.

She nudges him with her elbow and tilts her head back to drink in the warm afternoon. “So mysterious and brooding lately - half of Hogwarts thinks you’re secretly in love with Ron and the other half doesn’t give a shit who you fancy because they want to snog you ‘til their lips fall off.”

Harry grunts in response.

“That’s no way to respond to my update - mysterious only covers so much arsehole activity.”

Ginny comes to a halt as they reach the bank of the Great Lake and grips his arm. “What the - when are you going to stop acting like a jerk?”

Scowling, Harry drops into the swaying grasses and rips up a couple of handfuls by the roots. “Nobody’s making you hang about.”

“Your entire life is a distress signal at the mo’ Harry - I wouldn’t be a good friend if I let you keep acting like a prat.”

“So I’m a prat now - you’re really tops at giving a pep talk, Ginny.”

Ginny’s satchel falls to the ground with a thud and she follows after, lying down in the grass at Harry’s side. He’s a bit thrown, honestly, because he really is acting like a prat, now that she mentions it. And though he doesn’t quite want to admit it aloud yet, Ginny’s well within her rights to storm off and have a brooding session of her own.  

Instead, she sighs and tucks her arms beneath her head. “I’ve learned your interest is best garnered with a few choice swipes at your carefully crafted view of yourself.”

Blowing out a deep breath, Harry mimics Ginny’s action and drops back to the grass, spring and freshness sharpening the air around him. It feels safe, being hidden away like this, and he finds the words spilling from his lips before he can stop or even consider the results.

“Everything’s just a bit shit lately. Not to make everything about me,” Harry pauses to shove Ginny when she snorts, “But between Ron almost dying in front of me and Lavender torturing me for information and Cormac being a cocky ass - ”

“Don’t get me started on that idiot,” Ginny mutters.

“And plus - well, I’m me.”

“So you must have some super secret something or other brewing alongside all this teen angst.”

“Of course.”

Harry pushes his glasses up onto his forehead and leaves his forearm draped over his eyes. “Plus when you’ve got your own internal frustration piling up about everything including fancying - ”

And right about there, his self-preservation instincts kick back in and he realizes he almost just moaned to Ginny about the trouble of fancying her secretly and as far as he knows about three years too late for some requited feelings.

Oh hell. Just add it to his angst pile of life.

It’s quiet for a beat or two between them as Harry’s sentence dies unfinished and Ginny probably contemplates dumping him in the Lake so the squid can end him once and for all. But when she does break the silence it’s with a low, steady voice. That voice he’s come to associate with so many feelings that sound like conflicts but just make up the mosaic that is Ginny Weasley. She’s a comfort, a friend, a tease, cheeky, kind, loyal, braver than most - and currently offering some sort of response he’s missed almost entirely.

“ - and anyway, I know it feels like you’re the only one with all these mixed up parts of your life crashing down around you,” her pinky brushes the side of his hand, “And you certainly have more drama than most - especially with Ron and Hermione for best mates - but you’re not weird or strange or broken. I think. Well, Mum says it’s just part of growing up.”

Harry hums. “You think she’s right?”

“Who would question Molly Weasley?”

“I’m the Boy Who Lived,” Harry chuckles.

“Not for long if you back talk Mum.”

____

Harry slumps into the 6th Year Boys’ Dorm and falls back against the door with a sigh which turns from completely dejected to mostly dejected and slightly relieved. “All alone?”

Ron grunts. “Aye - good thing. I’m still recovering.”

“My headache is definitely going to cut my Dean and Seamus clucking session patience,” Harry agrees as he deposits his things in his trunk. It’s a bit of a messy clean up but once the top drops down it’s out of sight and he honestly can’t summon up the motivation to give a rat’s arse. Especially with lingering daydreams of Ginny fawning over his prone body, wondering aloud why she chose Dean and let Harry nearly die without snogging him to death. And instead leaving him to the cold, cruel death by bludger.

When Harry emerges from daydream take two, Ron’s looking at him half expectant, half confused, and Harry decides to milk the head injury as long as possible. He’s paying the price with a splitting headache at the base of his skull so at this point excuses are earned. “Sorry mate, say it again? Brain’s still a bit wobbly.”

“Ah, hell with it. I dunno if I can take one more gossipy discussion of who’s dating who and whether they’re invested and if it’s long term and whatever other shit manages to come up.”

“At least you could fake sleeping through Lav Lav without Pomfrey thinking you’ve got narcolepsy.”

Ron snorts and pushes up on his elbows. “She’s a persistent thing, eh?”

Harry’s on a roll now and he can’t quite stop himself before his grumbles continue. “And then Dean can’t seem to decide between bragging like an asshole and whining like a little baby because Ginny doesn’t powder his bum.”

“She better not be anywhere near his bum,” Ron grunts, “Care for a game of chess? I could use a good violent outlet.”

Before Harry answers, Ron’s already crawling to the foot of his bed and rustling around for his beat up chess board. Soon enough he’s placing the chipped pieces on the squares while Harry lingers in the doorway. “Can I put on pajamas first?”

“Slip into something comfortable for me, Potter,” Ron says with a teasing wink. Harry grabs a pillow and tosses it in his face.  

“Stuff it.”

“You send me,” Ron moans dramatically, and when Harry slams the loo door behind him, Ron calls, “And bring something for a snack before you come over here.”

“Eff off, Ron.”

“I’m peckish and we all know you hoard food.”

When Harry reemerges from the bathroom he shoves his robes in with the rest of his dirty laundry and grabs a few handfuls of candy from his apparently not-so-secret stash. “What’s your poison.”

“Too bloody soon,” Ron laughs, snatching a licorice wand, “So Dean and Ginny? Anything while I was out of it?”

“She’ll be ticked at me if I act informant on her,” Harry says, gesturing one of his pawns forward.

Ron orders his pawn two spaces ahead and sighs, “Since when does she rank over best mate privileges?”

“I dunno - probably since I saw her bat bogey hex live and in person.”

“Baby.”

____

Harry’s heart nearly jumps out of its cage when he sneakily walks out of the Room of Requirement and is about to turn the first corner. 

“Ginny!” He mostly blurts out, hand over his heart and heaving. He surely wasn’t expecting to bump into anyone, let alone a lone, wandering Ginny Weasley.

She looks just as surprised, but mostly amused, a trait evident on all Weasleys. Even Percy on his better days.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. That bludger to the head must’ve done things to you, eh, Harry?”

Yes, but the grin on your face does a lot more and entirely different things to me, Harry’d like to say but doesn’t. Impromptu snogging in the corridors is frowned upon, he remembers with a slight cringe. Nothing in the world that can erase the memory of Ron’s red, angry face from his mind, though.

“I was only -”

But he stops mid-sentence. Can he tell her? Should he tell her about the cabinet and Malfoy and Snape? Ginny would never be flippant about it, right? Or would she?

To his great surprise, her cheeks start to redden all the way up to her forehead, her deep brown eyes suddenly averting his gaze.

“Did I - erm, did I interrupt...anything?” Ginny stammers, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

“What?” Harry’s gaze blurs out for a moment before something akin to horror washes over him. “No, no, no! Nothing like that! It’s - erm, it’s Dumbledore, really. New task from Dumbledore, yeah. That’s right, a new and insanely difficult new task from Dumbledore that I cannot and will not speak about.”

Harry finds himself panting at the end of his little speech, cold sweat dripping from his temples to his armpits as Ginny stares at him and blinks before that warm, hearty laughter erupts from her throat and she doubles over. On his part, well, Harry’s never wanted anything more than to simply disappear from the face of the earth. Poof , and all his troubles would go away.

“Didn’t mean to laugh,” she apologises, fingers wiping small tears from under her eyelids.

“No, no, by all means knock yourself out.”

Harry really tries to sound dignified. He pushes his round specs back onto his nose, combs his wild hair with one hand and tugs at the creases in his robe with the other, suddenly very much self-aware.

“Oh, wow. That was something,” Ginny finally seems to recover, her back leaning against the cold stone wall. “Honestly, Harry, if you were there alone or with someone -”

Please don’t say something even remotely...suggesting.

“ - doing whatever everyone is doing, it’s completely alright, really. Despite what Ron was preaching before he turned into a leech and became perpetually glued to Lavender’s lips,” she finishes her sentence with a bit of a frown and Harry feels like he’s about to faint.

The last thing he wants is for Ginny to think he’s fooling around with someone around the castle. Or even worse, that he’s - erm, doing it to himself and going to such great lengths to do so that he hides behind magic doors instead of casting Muffliato in the middle of the night like any other sane teenager.

“Thanks for the advice, Ginny, but it’s really not necessary.”

“Oh. Alright, then.”

She looks a bit forlorn and Harry realises he must have been a prat again.

“I don’t have anybody to snog in secret, I mean,” he quickly amends. Damn, that crease between her eyebrows truly throws him into guilt-trips like nothing else, eh?

Ginny’s lips stretch into a small smile, her eyes a little sheepish as she searches for his own. “You’re not missing out on much, promise.”

“I take it Dean isn’t as good as he brags, then?”

“He what ?”

“What’s said in the boys’ dorm must stay in the boys’ dorm.”

“Harry James Potter, you tell me what that git is saying about me to you lot right now, or -”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll tell Romilda Vane you confessed your love for her to me.”

“Ooh, that’s beneath the belt, Gin. Where’s the sportswoman in you?”

“I put her on hold. She’s not great with interrogation tactics.”

Ginny looks entirely too smug for her own good because Harry feels like leaning in and kissing her silly. In fact, at one point in their passionate banter they kind of, sort of inched closer to each other - otherwise, Harry has no idea how to explain the fact that she’s so close to him he can taste the sweetness of her breath.

They both glare at each other until one of them gives in and into laughter, the echo of their combined mirth reverberating throughout the corridors. But they don’t care, not much and not right now. 

Right now, they’re two teenagers having fun, enjoying each other’s company. Right now, they’re Harry and Ginny being normal and being friends.

Harry feels warm inside and smiles widely. Without knowing, without even realising, Ginny’s crept into his heart little by little until she’s come to mean more to him than he could ever find words to describe. He’s come to rely on her and that’s a lot to him.

“Honestly, Gin, if Dean’s giving you any trouble, just tell me and I promise I’ll take care of it,” Harry grins as they jump down the stairs two by two to the Great Hall.

“That’s very chivalrous of you, Harry.”

He can feel her roll her eyes though her tone stays amused.

“I won’t even tell Ron, promise.”

“You won’t have to. If anyone’s dumb enough to play me dirty, I’ll make sure everyone from the First Years to Moaning Myrtle finds out,” Ginny winks and Harry nearly misses a step. 

“That mostly renders your six brothers plus me useless, though,” he laughs, now more careful with the stairs. No need breaking his neck again when he’s only recently been dismissed from the hospital.

“Oh, no. Did mean ol’ Ginny threaten your masculinity?” She pouts as her finger jabs into his chest and Harry laughs.

“You have to turn everything into a competition, eh?”

“Absolutely. Also, last one at the dinner table is a smelly loser!” Ginny sticks out her tongue and darts away so fast Harry’s left blinking in her wake.

A great, big grin nestles on his face and Harry shakes his head before he pelts right after her, taking the steps four at a time and laughing as she splutters like an angry cat when he dashes ahead of her. He’s still the fastest runner and he’ll make sure that never changes. Seeing her slightly annoyed, mostly amused face, that competition loving flame in her eyes and that blazing, scorching look on her face - that alone gives Harry enough pleasure and charges him with enough courage he honestly feels like he can conquer death. 

____

Harry hopes the absolute best for his two best mates when he waves them goodbye to their Apparition lesson in Hogsmeade because, who knows, maybe they can really hold in the snappy banter and use their lips for something that’d shut them up for awhile once they actually start doing it. And also cut that sexual tension that’s been growing over the years right down to nil, Harry likes to tell himself.

Bumping into Tonks doesn’t help him either but merely charges him with renewed guilt. It’s hard enough waking up and realising there’s no Sirius and that there never will be, but to actually see people grieving...He knows he’s the only one to blame.

Not to mention his fourth lesson with Dumbledore and the brand new incursion into the life and times of Tom Riddle. Somehow it doesn’t get easier, no matter how many times he goes back into Riddle’s past, no matter how hard he tries to tell himself that if he’d only managed to understand him…

Harry feels something disgusting crawling underneath his skin after those lessons and he’s almost sure it’s not only in his head.

And Malfoy. And the Room of Requirement. 

And the Prince teaching him increasingly dangerous spells (even though he’d never admit he considers them dangerous for fear that Hermione might hear and go on her little ‘told you so’ routine).

So, just like a perfect cycle, Harry finds himself finishing the first month of Spring precisely like he started it: drowning in a right well of angst and being broody. Right until a fuming Ginny slams the door to his compartment, that is.

“What’s got your pants in a twist?” Harry raises one eyebrow as his eyes follow Ginny from behind round specs. She sways for a moment in the middle of the compartment, leaning into the movements of the fast running train, before she decides to plop down, frowning and pouting opposite him.

Ginny simply grunts in response and Harry knows it’d be useless to push her. She’ll tell him when she’s ready anyway and he’s got a nasty feeling it’s got to do with Dean. 

Maybe it isn’t the best option to find out right now - he might stroll into Dean’s compartment and casually strangle him if indeed it was him who upset her, Harry privately reckons. 

“You never told me how a toaster works,” Ginny says after a beat, her eyes glued to the green outside the window. “Care to explain now?”

Harry poorly muffles a chuckle with a fake coughing fit and dives right into explaining the intricacies of obtaining fresh toast the Muggle way. Fortunately, it keeps them occupied for more than he’d hoped and it’s really nice talking to her like that.

But when her questions start spiralling towards more technical stuff than Harry’s ever known or even dreamed of knowing, he simply starts making things up, one more ridiculously fantastic than the other. Obviously, Ginny’s no fool as her aha s and oh really s sound dryer and dryer.

At least they share a good laugh when Ron and Hermione return from their Prefect duties and Ron, being his father’s son, is suddenly gullible enough to believe there are actual little people hiding inside a TV playing the same movie over and over again “like actors in a play.”

The compartment shakes with their laughter as the train rolls out of Scotland and Harry feels so much lighter, almost happy sitting there with the four people he cares most about in the world.

Quite frankly, Easter at the Burrow sounds pretty good to Harry now and, if he’s being entirely honest, he can already smell Mrs Weasley’s treacle tart and shepherd's pie warm and waiting for them on the old wooden table.

#itsblissfuloblivion writes #torch #torch chapter 7 #hbp fic #hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #hints of romione #we're getting there!! #fab collab #itsblissfuloblivion #gryffindormischief #fightfortherightsofhouseelves

[btsmutimagines]

Sweet Creature (M)

*I have no words*

Request: Can I get a Sub Jungkook smut where their on the couch and he cums in his pants while the reader is grinding on him on his lap and dirty talks to him in his ear??? Thanks☺️☺️☺️

Word Count: 6.9k words (heh heh)

Let me ruin you goddammit

Let's get one thing straight. You never claimed to be a good person, never did charity work, never been the perfect daughter for your parents. And you sure as hell wasn’t someone’s little girlfriend.

You did what you want, who you wanted and slipped out of their sheets before they murmur good morning in your ear. You were a ‘no strings attached' girl, making sure that you would never become someone's puppet. Of course, you weren't immune to the disease called ‘love', your innocent high school days plagued with your naive mindset of finding the ‘one'. It still haunts you, one of the reasons your night doesn't end with a shot of whisky and half a pack of beer. The only person who was willing to put up with you was your best friend, Jungkook.

He wasn't a saint either, having his fair share of drinks over the weekend but nurses you back to health unlike your fake ass friends. They drag you along just to abandon you in your worst state.

“Your liver is going to rot and one day you won't be able to drink at all.”

“That's the day I die, Jungkook.” Your spoon clinked against the inner bowl, shooting up to your sensitive headache. He made you hungover soup, the recipe probably ingrained in his head with the amount of time he's made it for you.

“Whatever you think the bottom of that beer bottle can fix, it's not working.”

“I’m not broken, Jungkook.”

“Don't act like this. I know you're still hurt.”

“He didn't mean anything to me, just like how I meant nothing to him.” You were proud that you could say that without your voice cracking. Your mind took you back to the time where you were searching for love.

He was an older man, you were just a junior in high school and he was a second-year college student. The age gap was a concerning fact to people that knew you but he made you happy. Giving you gifts, kissing you until you couldn't breathe, taking you out to secret dates in the middle of the night. You were so in love, taking away most of your firsts and being the first man you ever slept with.

A lot changed after he crept into your bed, he became more distant and cold. The only time he’d touch you is when he was fucking you. He always had his excuses and you always had the heart to believe him.

It was only 6 months in when you decided to visit him at the dorms, you caught him with his dick up a girl's ass.

He didn't stop, letting his cum leak from her asshole before he looked at you. It only took a look that told you everything about what you were. You were in a sea of girls, another one to add to the list of girls he slept with.

Why did you think that you were special? That to someone, you're more than just a body to satisfy sexual desires, rather a person they wanted to be with every day and every night. You weren't more than that and he told you all of that with a single glance.

“I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?”

“You’ve made yourself clear.”

“Shut the door as you leave.” You felt sick just thinking about it, remembering how giddy you were when he’d touch you, kiss you, hold you. Now you knew he was just looking for a way to slither his fingers into your pants, successfully getting what he wants and finding another girl who would replace you just like that.

“It's been years, Jungkook. I don't care about him anymore.”

“Okay, fine. You don't care about him but I care about you.”

“Jungkook.”

“Let's stop drinking. I’ll spend every minute with you if I have to, I don't want to come over to find you black out drunk and unresponsive. Or you get alcohol poisoning again.”

“It's my fix.”

“Thought you said it wasn't.”

“Heals from the stresses of everyday life. It's not mending my heart.”

“I’ll be your fix. Whenever you feel like drinking, just call me instead.”

"Even if it's 2 am?"

“I’ll run over here in my pyjamas.”

“You're an idiot.”

“I just don't like seeing you like this.” You sighed, Jungkook was a good person. A least by your book, he's never made you feel less of a person because of your habits. Acknowledges he's not perfect either and helps you out whenever you call. He's the type of good guy that your teenage heart would have fallen for, its pure state believing he could never hurt you but you trade your heart for a bottle of liquor.

The bottle was much sweeter than a pair of lips, more satisfying than the touch of other and more beautiful than any man. You felt in love with the rush, the burn of liquor down your throat as a pleasurable pain and its buzz. Everything slowed down, your body feeling looser and you were happier.

The sweet burn was the same flame as young love, only it tasted so much sweeter.

You looked at Jungkook, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. You heart it yourself, he cares about you.

“We’re going cold turkey?”

"More like a replacement for alcohol. I'll do it with you if you want me to."

“Okay.” You finished the last of your soup, washing the bowl and he sat down on your old leather couch. You followed suit, taking a seat next to him and watching one of your and his favourite anime.

“It still hurts, why did she have to say that lie?”

“She was afraid to tell him the truth. What if he didn't love her back?”

“But they had such a connection, a bond that's unmistakable.”

"First of all, she was dying, Jungkook. The last thing a dying 14 years old should experience is heartbreak."

“This show is stupid.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Am not.” He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, you handing him your tissue box and he blew his nose.

“My overgrown child.” You tried to hug him, getting a squirming Jungkook into your arms eventually.

“Shoot, I got to meet Jisoo, I’ll catch you later?”

“Yeah, sure. Don't keep her waiting, Jungkook.”

“Wait, do I look like I cried?”

“You could just lie and say you got high, you know?”

“______.”

“Just one second.” You stood in front of him, fixing his hair to part a little and you adjusted his collar.

“Be yourself, Jungkook.”

“Yes, Mother.”

"Don't be an ass, I'm just trying to be your wing woman."

“Wish me luck?” You did as he asked, seeing him rush to the florist before meeting his crush. Jisoo was a nice girl when she wanted to be, a pure snake in your eyes but you didn't want to dampen the light in his eyes whenever he heard her name.

You dragged yourself off the couch, disregarding any more thought of Jungkook and his secretly poisonous crush. You grab any liquor you had around the house, looking for any secret stash you have hidden from Jungkook after he dumped your wine cellar one time.

Carrying them in bags, you make your way to the bar.

“We’re not open– Well, look what the draft brought in.”

“Nice to see you too, Sana.” Sana was your old friend, a bartender at night and enjoyed drinking a lot. You never drink anything that she hasn't mixed unless it's straight from a bottle or can.

“I didn't think you would start drinking at 11:30 in the morning now. Or did something else bring you here?”

“I came bearing gifts.” You rise up your bag of bottles, placing them on the counter. She cocked an eyebrow, looking into the bag and gasped.

“You brought all you have?”

"I'm trying to cut back. You know, re-invent me."

“Did Jungkook have something to do with that?” She bumped your elbow and you scoffed at her. You don't know where she got the misconception of you and Jungkook were together. Regardless of how many times you disprove her claims, she still believes you two are a thing.

“Sana.”

“He does, doesn't he?”

“Doesn't matter. Can't a woman change without a man being the cause?”

“Not if the man is Jungkook. You know you're whipped for him.”

“We’re best friends, Sana. Besides, he likes Jisoo now.”

“Jisoo? Couldn't protect from the sleaziest girl I ever met?”

“He wants to fall in love, Sana.”

“Then why can't it be you?”

“I don't need love from someone else to live. I don't need someone to love me.”

“Quit acting tough, love isn't stripping you of anything but giving you something that you can't find in books, your family or the most expensive alcohol. It's something you don't want to lose once you have it.”

“Sana.”

“I know, I know. I sound like an old lady but it's true.”

“Before you break down into tears, how much for my collection?”

“700.”

“How generous.”

“Considering I have most of these in stock, couldn't hurt to have extras plus I gave you the friend upgrade.”

“I’m honoured.” You pretended to be flattered, Sana counting out the money before you held a crisp 700 in your hands.

“And hey, good luck on getting reinvented.”

"Thanks." You left the bar, the money heavy in your pockets and you bit your lip. You didn't know why it didn't take Jungkook much to convince you to withdraw from alcohol, you usually get cut off before you couldn't drink anymore.

Maybe you wanted to spare Jungkook the embarrassment of always picking up his drunken friend from wherever you were that night. Maybe you were sick of making Jungkook take care of you because no one else will. Maybe you were tired of taking away from Jungkook's life, being a vicious cycle to his weekends. He deserves to relax on the weekends, has a bit of fun if he wants, not take care of a nobody like you.

Jungkook had a life outside of yours and your life was nothing without him. If he wasn't there, there was no one else. Sana was always working behind the counter, unable to take you away from people looking to take advantage of the drunk girl at the bar or drive to the party you're at.

Even now, he wants to be your replacement for alcohol. He's only doing this because he feels like he has to. You don't want to be another thing he has to take care of. You wanted to be someone that he could depend on, less of a responsibility and more of a friend.

You called him later, the boy rushing over to your apartment. You opened your door, his eyes showing that he just woke up and he gave you a sheepish smile.

“Makeshift alcohol at your service.”

“Where's your sock?”

“Oh, I uh forgot about it.” He scratched the back of his neck and you cracked a smile.

"Make yourself comfortable, Mr Wine."

“Wine?”

“Remember the red hair–”

“That was a mistake, okay. I just wanted a lighter brown.”

"Jungkook, it was cute. Especially with your Halloween costume."

“Officer Jungkook, your secret fantasy, huh?”

“Shut up.” He sat down on the couch, you sat next to him with your body turned to him. He faced you as well with his legs crossed.

“You can't lie to a cop, ______.”

“You're not a cop, you're an overgrown child.”

“I’m older than you.”

“Mere days.”

“37 days.”

“Okay, grandma.” You muttered, getting your ear flicked and you blew a raspberry at him.

“Sana told me you stopped by.” Of course, she did.

“I sold my collection to her. At least my hard stuff, kept my wines.”

“I thought I was your wine.”

“You're not a taste for everyone, Jungkook. Can't share my wine with everyone.” You saw his ears turn pink and he coughed.

“Your wine?”

“Do you want to be Jisoo’s?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I don't know. How was your date with Jisoo?”

“She came in a cute sundress with polka dots and her hair just brushing her shoulders...” He said more than this, your mind trailing off as you watched how animated he was when he spoke about her. You meant it when you call him an overgrown child, his thought process still innocent and naive as a child.

He's had his fair share of girls, some long term and some just a short fling. You never saw him sad about any of those relationships, easily slipping back into his normal life but you knew it weighed him down. Maybe he wasn't smiling as much or he stayed home more often but he'd never tell you if it hurt.

“Are you having withdrawals?”

“Just thinking.”

“Would you like to share?”

“Did you ask her out again?”

“Yeah, we’re meeting up next Saturday. You’ll be out of your favourite that night.”

“My Saint Aix is still in my cellar,” He rolled his eyes, you giggling when he pouted and he smiled.

“Where's your date? Please don't tell me it's going to be the–”

“Diner that sells milkshakes and burgers.” You both said simultaneously and you groaned at his cheeky grin.

“Jesus, Kookie. You don't take a girl like Jisoo to a place like that, she's high maintenance.”

“She's humble, ______.”

“And I hate alcohol.” You mockingly retorted, giving him a look of disapproval.

“Okay, where do you think I should take her?”

“What kind of food does she like?”

“I don't know… apples?”

“I didn't know you were dating a horse, Jungkook. I knew you were into furries but I didn't think you go as far as bestiality–”

“It was just a suggestion, God. She's talked about Greek food once.”

“Perfect. I know a guy that works at the new Greek restaurant on the skirts of town, I could get you a reservation.”

“No strings attached?”

“I’m just trying to let the love flow.” You made waves with your arms, Jungkook covering his face in embarrassment and you pulled his hands away.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“How do I look?” You were sitting on Jungkook's couch, watching a show about music videos when he came in, fidgeting and you got up. You held his hands for a moment to stop him from fidgeting and you gave him a stern look.

“Why are you looking at me like that…?”

“Stop being nervous. It's not the first date you’ve been on.”

“I just really like her… She's beautiful and all but she's deep too. She loves poetry, draws and has the cutest laugh.” You almost snorted, knowing that she can't draw to save her life, she could have google searched poetry and her laugh is the most obnoxious sound you ever heard. His hopeful look made you hold back your tongue, fixing his hair and giving him two thumbs up.

“Be a gentleman, not a dork, Kook.”

“I’m the coolest guy you know, ______.”

“Yoongi and Jin are pretty cool…”

“You're into dads now?”

“Maturity doesn't make you a dad, Jungkook. It makes you seem adult like and responsible.”

“No wonder you can't get a guy, they're all boring.”

“Shut up.” You hit him, he had no filter. He hugged you, leading to you hitting him more until he released you from his embrace. You stilled for a moment, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his cologne. He knew how much you loved the scent, sometimes he would give you his hoodie covered in the scent to cheer you up.

“Your hands are wrinkling my shirt, ______.”

"Oh, shit, sorry." He let you pull back, you let go of his shirt that your hand clutched onto and he coughed.

“I better get going, my lady awaits.”

“I’ll man the fort.” You saluted him, Jungkook returning the gesture before leaving you alone. He trusted you in his apartment, leaving you free will on raiding his food. You looked for his snack collection and seeing it on the highest shelf in his cupboard. Damn him.

You grabbed one of the barstools he had, pushing it up the counter and proceeding to step on it. The stool began to shake as you reached out to the snacks. Reaching the top shelf, you grabbed whatever was within your reach before getting off the wobbly stool.

Eying what you grabbed, you began with the Chips Ahoy and saw it was completely empty. You shook it off and checked the next pack, the container also empty.

Did he have a pigging out fest without you?

You settled on his leftovers, eating chicken parmesan and scrolling through Twitter. It was only Friday night but you could see your friends already drunk from their tweets.

Sighing, you turn off your phone and glanced at the ceiling instead.

Your mind drifted to strange places, fantasizing about meeting someone in a foggy forest. The trees, long and Obsidian, with their vibrant leaves have the seemingly dead forest some life.

A brown head of hair sat near one of the largest trees, a corner of a sketchbook visible to you. Your eyes traced the strong back of the faceless boy and you stepped closer. The boy seemed unfazed by the loud crunch of leaves under your feet as you approached him.

When you reached out to touch him, he began to turn to face you.

“I’ve been waiting for you, ______.” Why did it sound so real?

“Hey. Wake up.” Your eyes shot open, when did you doze off? You rubbed your eyes, looking at Jungkook’s lower half before looking up.

“Jungkook?”

“Unless some handsome devil like myself has a pair of keys that fit my lock, I’m pretty sure I’m me.”

“How was it?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning. Seems like you had a pretty eventful night.”

“Oh, shut up.” You tiredly hit him, hitting what you believe was his thigh and he laughed.

“I like ‘just woke up from a nap’ you better than ‘awake’ you.”

“I like it better when you don't speak.”

“So grouchy. Someone needs more sleep, although it won't help with your beauty.”

“If I wasn't sleepy, I would sock you in your jaw.”

“I meant you're already beautiful.”

“Let's just say that's what you meant.”

"You must be really tired. Come on." He lifted you up, you wrap your arms around Jungkook's neck as he carried to his bed. He lied you down and you pulled his arm.

“You don't have to sleep on the couch, Kookie.”

“I–I think it's improper–”

“Our whole relationship is improper. Just sleep here, we can make a pillow divider.”

“Fine...” He slipped into bed, taking up the right side and placing pillows between the two of you.

“Goodnight, Kookie.”

“Night.” You turned to your side, easing back into sleep. The next morning you woke up with Jungkook pressed up against you.

He snores softly in your ear, probably sleeping peacefully and you thought of just staying like that for a bit. While he was asleep, you didn't have to hear about Jisoo, how “great” she is or how much he likes her. You were sick of hearing about the fake–

His phone rang, waking up Jungkook and he bumped his forehead against the back of your head.

“What?”

“Answer the phone, Jungkook.” You handed his phone over, him answering it.

“Hello? Jisoo? Morning, Soo Soo.” You got up, going to the bathroom and blocking out Jungkook's conversation. You stupidly smile at the toothbrush Jungkook bought for when you stayed over since you're “a non-paying roommate”. You brushed your teeth and showered.

“I’ll be right there, wait for me.” You walked out the bathroom, seeing Jungkook struggling with his jeans and tossing his phone when he hung up.

“Improvised morning date, huh?”

“Gotta keep my girl happy.”

“Your girl?” They only had one and a half dates, how the hell are they an item already?

“I’ll explain it later– Good?”

“Jungkook.” You chewed your inner cheek, wanting to blurt out that he made a promise to you last night. Seeing how eager he is to run to her reminded you what you were in his life. Just his best friend, nothing more.

“Yes?”

“Don't forget your phone.”

“Shit, thanks. I’ll see you later?”

“Sure…” He smiled at you before rushing out the door and you sighed as you sat on the edge of his bed.

“He used to rush to me like that.” You mumbled to yourself.

You sat down on your couch, Jungkook's head in your lap. He came over, still keeping his promise as your makeshift bottle of wine.

“Why did you chop your hair off in middle school?”

“Why, did you dream about me?”

“I was just looking at our old photos and it's weird.”

“I thought it was nice.”

“A short perm.”

"Oh shut up. You didn't look away better, Mr Emo phrase."

“I put eyeliner on a few times and now it's some kind of sin that I’ve committed.”

“I meant your haircut, but you looked oddly cute.”

“That's a mild compliment but I’ll take it.”

“Hey, I danced with you at spring formal despite your hideous hairstyle.”

“Care to reenact that moment?” He held out his hand and you took it, the two of you dancing around your living room. He bumped into the coffee table, falling down and pulling you down with him.

“I don't think this was part of the dance.”

“Rewriting our memories, it can't always be a bad thing.” You didn't know what else to say, your mind registering how close you were to Jungkook's face. Your nerves went into overdrive, your body stiff against his and he didn't say for you to get off him.

“Hey, ______, I um–” His phone rang, both your heads turning to the coffee table and you got off him. You both sat on the floor, Jungkook answering his call with you listening.

“Hey, Jisoo... What? Where is she right now? … I’ll be right there.”

“Something wrong?”

“Sorry, Jisoo got really drunk and no one else can take her home. Do you want me to come back?”

“It's getting late anyways, make sure she's safe.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” You watched him rush out to her once again, this time it felt like a knife to the heart. He was used to this with you, dropping whatever he was doing just to carry you home and now he's doing the same for her.

In the back of your mind, you wished you could rewrite this memory.

Okay, you were a tad bit jealous when you watched Jungkook rush over to Jisoo because he's being a lovesick puppy and you should be as important to him by best friend code.

Now, you're just angry. For the past four days, you were calling, texting, messaging and even sent a damn letter to get Jungkook to answer you.

You unlocked the door, having the copy of his keys and bursting into his room.

“Morning, dick bag. Did you toss your phone into the ocean or something?”

“______–”

“What a pleasant surprise, I had no idea you spoke to a person who has the flu like that.” Your eyes landed on Jisoo, the bitch sitting so close to Jungkook despite him being sick. If you hadn't walked in, you were sure they would cuddle or something.

“You have the flu?”

“Surprise?”

“I’ll get you some more soup, Kookie.” She brushed past you and looked at him.

“I didn't purposely miss all your calls, except the first one because I knew you would come over and nurse me back to health. Jisoo took my phone after she came over.”

“Pathetic. And you thought I would just be okay with that? I called everyone else and they haven't seen you either. Now I know why.”

“Are you mad?”

“That my best friend has let some girl he met two months ago become more important than me, someone he knew him since he was three. Of course not, I'm on fucking cloud 9, Jungkook.”

“Don't be like that.”

“Be like what?”

“Fucking clingy. I don't want you to try to take care of me, you can't even take care of yourself.”

“Excuse me for caring about you.”

“Why do you care? You're not my girl.”

“And I’m so fucking glad I’m not. Especially if this is how you would treat your friends. Enjoy your nurse fantasy, Jungkook.” You walked out the room, fuming and ready to punch everything.

“He's not dead, is he?” In your blinding anger, you forgot that Hoseok drove you over.

Hoseok was in your friend group with the current dead man Jungkook. He was close to the two of you, often putting him in the middle of your spats but those spats never lasted long usually.

“He's pretty much dead to me. He got the flu.”

“Type A Influenza?”

“It's not that serious, Hobi.” Sitting in the car, you strapped on your seat belt and tapped your fingers against the dashboard.

“Then why are you angry?”

“Because the snake was lying next to him like some kind of fake ass nurse.”

“Wow, she's already in his bed. Kookie is a rolling stone, next she’ll give him a bath.”

“Hoseok.”

“Oh come on, ______. He likes her. Is there a problem with that?”

“That isn't an excuse for ignoring me for days. I had to go to the post office to get stamps. The lady laughed at me.”

“Well not everyone mails letters to someone who lives blocks away.”

“It's whatever. He can keep kissing her ass.”

“He might be doing that right now.”

“You're the worst.”

“Come on, let’s have a cup of coffee.” He drove to your favourite coffee shop, the cute bell on the door ringing as you two walked in. You ordered one of your usuals, the cold drink in your hand and Hoseok touched your hand.

“You're going to crush your cup with that grip of yours.”

“He just makes me so mad.”

“Are you sure you're mad at Jungkook or is it really jealousy?”

"Listen, Dr Phil, I think it's ridiculous that he's willing to go off the grid for half a week for some girl."

“If it was you, would you mind?”

“Yeah, I would. Because it's downright shitty to let your life revolve around someone else. So much to the point where you ignore everyone else that cares about you.”

“Love makes you do stupid shit.”

“Does it make you hurt the ones you care about?”

“What did he say?”

"Why would I want to take care of him when he's sick when I can't even take care of myself."

“He didn't mean it.”

"I don't think the flu robs you of your mind."

“It could.”

“Hobi.”

“Knowing that kid, he’ll feel horrible about it and try to make it up to you.”

Except he didn't try. At all. You heard nothing from him, having to get status updates from Jimin because he hoped that would make you lively again.

You went back to Sana, the bar closed since it was daytime.

“Can I just say how much I want to disappear? Like, I'm sick of being in this city.”

“Take Jungkook with you.”

“You want him dead?”

“Don't blame him. That snake probably poisoned him with her soup.”

“I would believe that but he hasn't talked to me in weeks.”

“He could be busy too?”

“You mean being Jisoo’s newest accessory? Yeah, I’ve seen the photos.”

“You could confront him at the dinner tonight.” Hoseok got promoted a few days ago, wanting to celebrate today since it was one of the few nights where Sana was free.

“And ruin Hoseok’s night? I could never do that to him.”

“Better than not going at all.”

“Funny, you say that…”

“You're going even if I have to change you myself and drag you.”

“She’ll be there.”

“So what? It's about Hobi.”

“I might drink.”

“It's been two months since you’ve gotten drunk. I'm pretty sure you don't need the alcohol to let you enjoy the night. And you could ignore them without getting drunk. I’ll be there.”

“Flirting with Hoseok no less.”

“It was one time.” You rolled your eyes, knowing that was a lie. The only reason he didn't celebrate the night of his promotion was because Sana couldn't make it.

Every time those two are together, they are lost in each other. Most of the time you would find them immersed in the strangest conversation and it takes you and he who shall not be named to distract them both to pull one of them away.

“Okay, sure. So, I have an important date with my couch and some popcorn.”

“You're going.”

“Make me.”

You learned something new about Sana. She means what she says in threats. It was unpleasant to have her literally change you and then proceed to drag you into her car but you were here now.

You tried to not dampen the atmosphere, ignoring Jungkook and talking to everyone else. He didn't really seem to care about your presence either, consumed by the leech attached to his left arm.

“A toast to Hoseok.” Your other confidant, Jin held out a piece of toast which lead to the table groaning at his corny joke. The only one who laughed was the snake herself, saying Jin was really funny. Even Jin himself knows those lame jokes are anything but funny, still taking to the compliment in his right.

“Hyung, how did you get actual toast?” Namjoon, the weirdly nerdy, flirty and cute one of the group. He has a strange hot nerd vibe, yet can snatch any woman with his subtle flirting. At the same time, you’ve seen him fall over more than a newborn deer.

“Lame.” Another one of your mutual friends, Yoongi. He was on par with terrible puns like Jin but would rarely add to the flames. Acts cool but is really a loveable dork that works hard.

“It's not lame, it's comedy! Anyways, to answer your question, I'm pretty hot so any piece of bread that touches me will get toasted.”

“Why do we go out in public with you?”

“You can't disown your hyung.”

"I wish," Yoongi muttered under his breath and you turned to Sana. She was preoccupied as you expected but not in the matter you thought. Hoseok has his lips pressed against her neck, the two of them getting cozy in the left corner of the booth and you didn't dare to interrupt (it didn't stop you from taking a photo for evidence).

“Kookie~ Stop~”

“Getting shy, baby? Huh?” You needed to tune out the rest of their conversation, not wanting to throw up your dinner.

“Where are you going?”

“Getting a drink.”

“But I thought you stopped…”

“Not everyone can keep their promises.” You hoped he heard you, you really hoped he felt guilty. Instead, you got the back of his head and Jisoo’s giggling. The bartender looked at you, mixing your order and you downed the glass in one gulp.

“Another?”

"I think she needs some water instead." You froze, how the hell..? You turned to your left, seeing your living nightmare plopped himself into the seat right next to yours.

“It's been awhile.”

“What are you doing here?”

“A little bird told me. Said you haven’t been with anyone else for long since me.”

“Fuck off. Don't you have some slut to screw around with?”

“Not tonight. Maybe not eve again if you let us happen.”

“There wasn't an ‘us’, you fucking used me. Took my naivety and hopeless romantic views to make me believe that you weren't in it for my body.”

“I’ve changed.”

“So have I.”  You got up to return to the safety of your table when he grabbed your hair. He made you look at him, seeing nothing but anger filled lust ad you tried to make him let go.

“I’m not leaving her until you're on your knees, sucking my cock.” You saw a fist collide with his face, releasing the grip he had on your hair and you were being pulled out the restaurant.

“Why were you talking to him?”

“Why do you fucking care?”

“Because my best friend needs me.”

“I’m glad you still remember me, Jungkook. Maybe she didn't completely take over your mind.” He pulled you into a cab, telling the man his address and you pulled your wrist away from him.

“I know I’ve been horrible but I’ll make it up to you–”

“Quit feeding me your bullshit, Jungkook.”

“______.” The driver stopped, waiting for both of you to get out but you weren’t going to go anywhere with him,

“Come on.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don't be like this now.”

“Be like what? Rightfully angry with you? Get real.” He pulled your leg, taking off one of your shoes and walking off with your purse.

“HEY!” You pulled off the other shoe, running after him and he sprinted up to his apartment. He caught you by the couch, pulling you into his lap and you elbowed him in the chest.

“Give me back my shoe.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“______.”

“What? Did you forget that you left her there? Better run back there before she gets mad.”

“Stop moving.”

“Why? Does it bother you?” You moved in the little space you had in his lap until you felt the reason behind his statement.

“Oh, you pervert.”

“It's not my fault, you wore the fucking dress I like so much.”

“I wasn't looking for your attention but I have an eager audience now.” You turned to face him, grinding your hips against his hip and he bit his lip. His hands slid to your ass, his fingertips pressing into the flesh gently and you worked your hips more.

“F-Fuck. D-Don't–” You didn't know what got into you but you liked the sound of his whines.

“You like that, Kookie? Like the way my hips grind against your dirty cock?” You didn't peg Jungkook as one that wanted to be dominated since he always boasted about being the one in control.

Now, watching his breath hitch as you ground your hips against his cock. Hearing a soft whine as your teeth graze the flesh of his neck.

“Don't tease, baby.” You pulled his hair, making him create eye contact between the two of you.

“Tsk tsk. You're going to be a good boy for me. Understood?” He nodded, earning him a hard yank from you.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes.”

“What a good boy.”

“Shit, baby.”

“You're so hard for me. Being my little bitch turns you on, huh? Always wanted to be dominated like one of those bitches you’ve fucked.”

“I’m gonna–” You ground against him harder until you noticed a dark patch on his pants.

“Can't even last long. You boast about how great you are but you couldn't even last 5 minutes with me.”

“I–I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough.” You got out of his lap, motioning from him to take off his pants and he did so speedily.

He was getting flaccid, his size still impressive in its normal state. You let one finger run across his cock continuously as he stood as still as possible.

“Did you expect me to want this in my mouth? Wanted me to get on my knees for you and suck your cock?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Spit in my hand.” He did so, you using said hand as you pumped his cock. You relished in the wet sound of his cock and his groans. He grew hard under your touch, cute whines left his pretty little lips and you pull his head down so you would kiss him.

He kissed you back with eagerness and ardour, you teasing him back with playful nibbles on his bottom lip. Your lips caught every moan until you could tell his breathing starting to grow heavier.

You halted your stroking, him looking at you.

“You're not coming again, selfish little boy.”

“Yes.” He said through gritted teeth and you smirked.

“Take off my clothes.” You said, Jungkook's hands immediately following your command. It wasn't a hard task, his fingers easily unzipping your dress to reveal your fiery red underwear. He couldn't glance at you for too long, seeing your expectant glare and leaving you bare quickly.

“Follow me.” You walked into his bedroom and stopped him in front of the bed. He stood in front of his bed as you crawled on top. You sat up on the edge with your legs spread and your fingers held your lower lips open.

“You know what I want from you, don't you?”

“Of course.” He walked in front of you and got his knees. Before he could let his tongue touch your cunt, you lifted up his chin to meet your eyes.

“I want you to look at me when you taste my dripping cunt.” He licked you slowly, teasing you first before you tugged on his hair to tell him to pick up the pace. You moaned as his tongue lapped against you, the tip making it way to your clit.

“Yes– Right there–Put your finger in me” You breathed out as his finger entered you slowly. He worked you open as he sucked on your clit with fervour, your eyes looking at his when you didn’t screw them shut.

“Like when I shove my cunt on your pretty face, huh? Using that filthy tongue to make me cum, god– Yes, fuck.” You threw your head back as he flicked your clit with tongue more.

“You’re gonna make me cum. Fuck, suck all the juices from my little cunt.” You said between heavy breaths and he happily licked all over your cunt with his eyes never leaving yours.

He pulled away, licking his lips and you noticed his hard cock making its presence known.

“How do you want it, baby?”

“I want you to ride me.”

“Lie down.” He did so, you crawling over to straddle him and angle his cock to your hole. He knew you took the pill, making skin to skin contact an option over the feeling of latex or silicone. You sat down on him slowly, listening to his groan as your hips met.

“So fucking big. Gonna stretch out my cunt with your cock.”

“Shit, shit–” His eyes were screwed shut as you bounced your hips in a brutish matter. Your hand nested in his hair, tugging on his scalp when you ground your hips a bit.

“P-Please–”

“Is my little fuck toy going to come again? You're going to come without my permission?”

“N-No.”

“You’re going to last however long I want you to, Kookie.”

"O-Okay–" The sound of your wetness coating his cock made you moan, one of your hands twisting around your nipples as you continue to bounce. He watched at the display, releasing whiny moans and groans.

“Love the way your cock is stretching me out– Perfect little fuck toy.” You gasped, finally cumming from the overstimulation and let Jungkook’s cock slip out of you.

He sat up, watching you as you positioned yourself on all fours.

“I want you to pound me. Can you do that for me?” Motioning him over, you felt the wet head of his cock tease your clit. He couldn't tease you any longer, sliding his cock inside of you and you both groaned.

“How are you still fucking tight?”

“Because you haven't pounded me yet.” He replied with a grunt, his hands now pressing into your skin roughly as he began his hard pace. You contained your moans as best you could, not wanting to feed into Jungkook's ego and your lack of noise only motivated him to fuck you even harder.

You hear the buttons of his dress shirt pop open, the sound only adding to your arousal.

“Yes, baby– Fuck me just like that–” You mewled, unable to hide how much pleasure you felt. Waves of euphoria crashed over you with every feral thrust, dripping heat pooled onto his sheets as he groaned your name.

You could feel his cock beginning to twitch, signalling his nearing climax.

“Cum.” It was a simple command, one that you hadn't expected to happen as soon as you spoke. The feeling of his hot cum inside of you excited you as he pulled out, a trail of some running down your thighs.

You turned around to face him, pulling him into a hungry kiss and his hands carefully trodden along your sides. Both of you cleaned yourself up, Jungkook's cum now pooling into the thin fabric of your panties.

He held you close, his hand rubbing your thigh and the other pressed on your waist. You stroked his arm, his veins bulging out against your touch.

“I didn't know you had that in you.”

“Stick around and you'll learn a lot about me.”

~Admin Blake

#bangtanhoesnet #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook smut #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts smut scenario #bts fluff scenarios #bts angst #bts angst scenarios #bts scenarios angst #bts scenarios smut #bts scenarios fluff #bts scenarios

[lydia--argent]

Clear Skies

A Fallout: New Vegas fic, because I’m apparently doing that now! Takes place, both in the story and in my life, after finishing Dead Money.

 Cat-Courier Six, Cass, ED-E

Cat can’t see much around her. Some distant part of her brain drags up the phrase ‘tunnel vision,’ but all Cat can do is turn off the radio. The voice echoes in her ears, and the quiet solitude of the bunker is welcome and overwhelming.

She doesn’t remember stumbling to a cot, but that’s where she wakes up – surrounded by spare parts and the smell of old chemicals, a ragged Brotherhood insignia hanging from the wall. This must have been Elijah’s base at some point, if the crazy engineer vibe and Sierra Madre machine are anything to go by. Cat takes a long moment to scream, loud and long, kicking the vending machine as hard as she can. It’s annoyingly sturdy.

She’d lost track of time under the cloud. Winding streets, chronic poisoning, too little sleep and too many stimpacks made the hours blend together. Cass and ED-E are gone, though. That’s a first step.

All her old gear is at the top of the stairs in a jumbled pile. Cat upends her bag, chips and packaged food and ammo spilling out onto the floor. Most of it gets shoved into the footlocker – if she never sees a Sierra Madre logo or boxed mac and cheese again, it’ll be too soon, but the bunker’s close to the river. Having a stash here isn’t the worst idea. The guns she packs more carefully, on top and ready to grab.

The Gauss rifle she takes with her, and Vera’s dress. Not as if Cat has anywhere to wear it, but hiding it away underground, by the Sierra Madre trap, feels wrong. She folds it carefully. After a few long moments of thinking, she also brings the bear trap fist after wiping away the worst of the ghost fluids. It’s weird and it’s nasty, and Cass’ll get a kick out of it.

The gold bars still shine, three rescued from the epic cave-in. Their luster against the dull gray and rust is beautiful, and almost feels ridiculous. Like waking up in an untouched, opulent building, still glittering from the past.

Unfortunately, they’re also heavy as shit, it’s a damn trek to the Outpost, and Cat’s lungs are still kind of hurting. She hides two of them among the trash and crosses her fingers.

To her vague surprise, it’s dark out in the Mojave. Every time she’d thought of it over the last… however many days, the sun was beating down, hot and clean. She shrugs and sets off, quiet and listening for night stalkers.

The stars are bright and keep her heading west and south. Cat had been navigating by the sky before she ever got her hands on a Pip-Boy, and the haze covering the Villa had been almost as frustrating as the unending ghost people. Almost.

Slowly, the stars dim, the sky lightens, and Cat sits down on top of a small hill to watch. The rising sun hits her face, and the desert lights up. A breeze kicks up, and Cat can smell dirt and cactus and, well, toxic waste, but the kind she’s used to. She breathes for a moment more, then keeps walking.

*

The door slams open, bringing in sand and a weirdo in old-school black and yellow armor. Cass’ hand goes to her pistol, even though the odds of her hitting a target at 3 pm these days aren’t great.

The weirdo pulls their reflective helmet off, and Cat is staring right back at Cass, and she looks – honestly, really shitty. Something greasy and caustic-looking is all over her skin and her nerdy-ass armor, she’s gripping that helmet too hard, and her eyes are shadowed and darting around even if they do keep coming back to Cass. No one moves until Lacey lets out a long, low whistle.

“Long time, no see,” Cass says, and damnit, her voice is thick, and she has to blink a little water out of her eyes. She sort of regrets the last six drinks.

Apparently, it does the trick, stupid sappy tears and all. Cat drops the helmet, crashes into and then on the bar stool next to Cass, and grumbles “I hate being abducted.”

She smells like acid and sour sweat, and now that she’s close Cass can see that her eyes are bloodshot.

Cass manages to get out a grin and teases, “We can always keep you on a leash,” but hesitates when Cat flinches. Cat doesn’t flinch, that’s not a thing. “Or, y’know, just stop pissing people off.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Cat says, recovering a bit of a composure and stealing a sip of Cass’ whiskey. Not for the first time, and Cass is slapping at Cat’s hand and grabbing for the bottle almost before she realizes what’s happening.

Cat’s the only person who can take Cass’ drink and come away with her nose intact. This time, Cass doesn’t even put up much of a fight for it. She asks Lacey for all the water in the bar while Cat takes a long pull from the bottle.

“How long was I gone for?” she asks.

Lacey answers first. “Long enough for this one to almost drink us out of business,” she says, putting a tall class in front of Cass. “Watching her pass out mid-afternoon is getting’ boring.”

“Not sure,” Cass shrugs. “There was an explosion, and by the time I woke up, you were gone. Been here since then. Few days, maybe a week.”

“Fuck,” Cat says, which just about sums it up. “Ready to get out of here?”

It’s one of the things Cass loves about Cat – the restlessness, the total inability to stay in one place longer than it takes to heal up and resupply. But most of the time, Cat doesn’t look like she’s about to snap and keel over at the same time.

“Not when you smell like you just crawled out of a toxic waste heap,” Cass says. “And what the hell is that armor? You look like a bumblebee.”

Cat looks down at herself and snorts. “Well, shit. You’re not wrong. Hey, Lace,” she says, “mind if I use the showers?”

“Oh, I insist,” Lacey says.

Cat pushes herself to her feet, tries to wipe some of the weird red residue from the stool, and just manages to smear it around.

“I’ll take care of it,” Lacey says, exasperated and shooing Cat out of the bar. “Get gone.”

Cat puts her hands up, showily not touching anything, and makes for the showers. “Hey,” Cass calls out. Cat turns around at the door, an eyebrow raised. “Missed you, C.”

The corner of Cat’s mouth turns up. “You too.”

“Aw,” Lacey coos, once Cat’s out of earshot. “Maudlin drunk’s a new look on you.”

“Shut it,” Cass says, finishes her water, and puts her head down on the bar for a quick nap.

*

“We gotta go to Prim, pick up ED-E,” Cat says. She still stalks the busted roads like she owns them, back in her worn leather armor, but her stride is a little slower. Cass doesn’t know if anyone else would even notice. “Then I need to go yell at McNamara.”

“For the NRC? The Brotherhood starting some shit again?”

“No.” Cat’s forehead creases. “I mean, I also have some news for him, but he’s the closest person responsible. So there’s gonna be a little yelling.”

Responsible for what? But Cat talks around campfires, not on the road. Too many years crossing the desert solo, Cass guesses. It took some getting used to, coming from caravan life, and Cass not being the most introspective of people. But it’s familiar now.

They camp just outside Primm. The fire crackles gently, cooking some gecko they’d shot earlier. They set up their bedrolls, and ED-E beeps quietly while watching the perimeter. It sounds pleased, maybe, but Cass is probably just projecting.

Once they settle in, have some food, get comfy next to the dying flames, Cat looks steadier but still ready to pass out for about twelve hours. Cass almost hates to ask the question that’s been burning in her throat all day, but she’s never been good at the whole subtle, tip-toe act.

“What the fuck happened to you?

Cat groans, “Any chance I can sleep for a day instead?”

“I’m not gonna stop you,” Cass says, a little stung.

“You don’t need to be watching our backs,” Cat says, like that’s the problem with this whole fucked-up situation. “Any more than usual, anyway. Took care of it.”

“Never doubted it. You still seem real spooked, though.”

Cat sighs, and she’s staring at something Cass Can’t see. “It’s just super fucked up. I don’t wanna talk about it yet.” Cass leans in and presses her shoulder to Cat’s, who relaxes just a little. “Later, though.”

“Thanks,” Cass says, awkwardly, but grateful all the same. Cat had vanished right in front of her, another thing ripped out from under Cass’ feet. She’d come back, though: even more kinds of recalcitrant and messed up, but still Cat.

“Brought this back for you,” Cat says, and hands over a bottle full of something thick and reddish. Cass unscrews the top and takes a whiff.

“Holy shit,” she says, rubbing her nose and holding the bottle at arm’s length while Cat laughs quietly. “Packs a punch?”

“Oh yeah. Save it for when you need it.”

The peeling label reads, in Cat’s all-caps scribble, “Sierra Madre Cocktail.” Cass tucks it away, settles down for the night, and sleeps better than she has in a week.

#fallout new vegas #fallout new vegas fic #fnv fic #cat courier #wow i haven't posted fic in FOREVER. #so uh hah here we are #my fic #which i DID NOT PROOFREAD #so if you see something say something

[young-and-sober]

Old writing, trying to save in case I need it again some day.

I posted this last night, but ended up removing it because I was scared. Frankly, I still am scared. Stigmas hurt, and I'm terrified of my own friends looking at me differently. Fortunately, a few of my friends talked me in to going through with it, since I hate hiding things from people, and the battles I faced this year played an enormous role in my life.

I'd planned on writing about the entire year, but that fell through pretty quickly as I realized just how strenuous of a task that would be. Not to mention, this fight has by far been my most important task this year, and its more than worthy of its own writing.

I figured since its a new year, I'd write a reflection of the best and worst year of my life; 2016. A bit of backstory to set up this writing; Addiction runs in my family, and through my blood as well. I fell deeply in love with alcohol at 14, when I had my first drink. Little did I know, genetic alcoholism was in my genes. This story takes place 5 years later, after a progressive battle against my addiction. My story of 2016 begins quite differently than most people would imagine. It was not grand, or splendid. It was not happy, or filled with love. It was not hope, or celebrating a new year. It was hell. I have no other word for it. It was drinking alone, in my room, from the time that I woke up (usually 3-4 PM) until 9 AM. It was over a liter of whiskey per day diet. It was buying liquor by the gallon, convinced this would be the last time. It was screaming at myself and crying as I drove to the liquor store, not even an hour after waking up out of alcohol, disregarding my last attempt to quit. It was black outs, vomiting, and crying on the bathroom floor. It was staying up as late as I could, until I inevitably drank enough to pass out, so I wouldn't have to be alone with my own thoughts. It was the absolute worst depression of my life. It was isolation to the extreme. It was suicide notes and cries for help, falling on deaf ears. It was praying to a god I didn't believe in to end my life, to free me of the suffering I was going through. This was how I lived from November 1st of 2015 until February 9th of 2016. Over four months of the worst misery you could imagine. Until the fateful day of February 8th. I was heading to Lansing to hang out with a Fetlife friend of mine I'd never met before. It was fun, but generally uneventful. The twist of fate was that while I was gone, my dad took advantage of my absence to tear apart my room. My parents had known I'd struggled with drinking for awhile, ever since I'd blacked out on our porch, returning home on my 16th birthday. However, throughout those four months, I'd somehow managed to convince them I was completely sober. Though trust was a bit of an issue between us, as back then I told so many lives that I'd forgotten the truth, and they began to doubt me. I had this gut feeling on the way back to Livonia that this would happen. I sped home, anxious as ever loving shit, trying to beat the clock, but knowing deep down it was too late. I arrived at home. The doors were locked, the lights were off. My dad greeted me at the front door. I could already tell what had happened. I'd seen the disappointment and fear in his face. No words were said. The silence was unbearable. He escorted me to my room. I knew what to expect; we'd been through this before. As I walked through the door, I was greeted by a terrifying sight, yet not one that was unfamiliar. The middle of my room was covered in liquor bottles. Not fifths, but half gallons. I'd had a hard time disposing of bottles, so I'd stashed them around my room in various hiding places, until I'd inevitably have time to sneak them all out of the house. There must have been around 30 half gallons of whiskey lying around. I don't remember much after this; I was in a state of panic and shock. I'd been found out. I'd promised to quit before, but had never had any intentions of actually doing so. I felt that this time, things would be different. I knew what was coming; consequences. Lets skip forward a few days to February 14th, 2016. Yes, that's right; Valentine's Day. Most people spend their Valentine's Day with their partner(s). I spent it being admitted in to rehab. Symbolically, it was beautiful. After all, my four month bender had been triggered by the break up with my first love. I'd been unequipped to deal with it, severely mentally ill, and had planned this relapse in the back of my mind the whole time. I was young, immature, and stupid, and was looking for any excuse in the book to drink again, as an alcoholic often will. I wasn't sober during that relationship for myself; I was sober for him, because I knew if I drank, it would hurt him. Even knowing that, I had multiple relapses throughout the relationship, which I was too ashamed to tell him about. Had I not been busted days before, things would be much different today. I would surely have killed myself on Valentine's Day. I'd tried to drink myself to death a few weeks previously, chugging a fifth of Kraken to try and give myself alcohol poisoning. That had failed, but I know that next time I'd make sure I wouldn't. I was in rehab for 12 days, and they were... Different. Being sober for the first time in a long time felt weird. I had complex emotions for the first time in four months. Everything was too clear, to the point where it overstimulated me. My body was constantly shaking from the alcohol withdrawal, my mind was foggy, and my mood was up and down. The memories of rehab that stick out the most for me are probably the least interesting ones you would imagine. I remember looking in to the mirror. Looking in to my eyes, and seeing them looking back at me. I didn't recognize my own face. I didn't know anything about the stranger staring back at me. I didn't know who I was, or what I'd become. I saw the stranger staring back at me, the pain he was holding on to for so long etched on to his face. There were no secrets anymore. There was no trying to be strong. There was only surrender to what I'd been running from for so long. I knew I couldn't keep living like this. I was terrified, but I knew something had to change. The current date I'm writing this is January 3rd, 2017. I've been sober since February 9th of 2016. And in the time between then and now, a true miracle has happened. I beat all my mental illnesses; the depression, the anxiety, the eating disorders and body dysmorphia. I kicked addiction in the ass, and never turned back. I learned how to handle life on life's terms. Instead of fighting an uphill battle against destiny, I learned to go with the flow and accept things as they are. I learned about all of my emotions, which were at one time foreign to me, and how to handle them. I learned to have compassion for my fellow human again. I managed to become infinitely more selfless, and to think about others more often, instead of just myself. I discovered parts of myself that were locked away, and embraced they balance they brought in to my life. I made real friends who truly mean the world to me. I even managed to change the way I think. I've shared my story wide and far. I've directly and indirectly saved lives of those fighting the same demons as me. I've learned who that stranger looking back at me in the mirror was. I've learned to encourage them and watch them grow. I've learned to love them for who they are. I've watched this stranger grow at such an exponential rate, that people from their past no longer recognize them. I've seen him let go of his pain, and move onwards, no matter how tired he may have been. I've seen the life return to his eyes, and his smile return to his face. I've seen him enjoy life as he never has before. I've seen him cry tears of joy, even as he writes this. That stranger is a stranger no more. That stranger is me, and today I am proud of that face that looks back at me in the mirror.

On a final note, I'd like to take a moment to address something. I don't seem to be the type who'd fought a battle like this, and I hope that goes to show that just like mental illness, addiction can take a hold of anyone, regardless of age, gender, race, sexual orientation, education, social class, etc.. Unfortunately, as someone who has suffered from both addiction and mental illness, I can tell you that the stigmas against addiction are much, much worse than those against mental illness, which is why I try to fight against them. And just like with mental illness, help will always be available for those who suffer from addiction. I've kicked its ass, and so can you, no matter how hopeless it might seem.