#its rly pretty when you’re driving by but its apartments now

[rachelblairy]

me reading that samuel colt was born and died in hartford : huh

me realizing moments later that i’ve LITERALLY stayed in the colt building : well.

#its rly pretty when you’re driving by but its apartments now #and i had a friend who lived in one so i got to spend a night there #i even fact checked this im also....skimming most of this by now i do not care abt the lore #and i hate the fonts they used for it #lb spn

[choptop-sawyer]

Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.

#tcm #texas chainsaw #chop top #chop top sawyer #chop top sawyer x reader #tcm 2 #texas chainsaw massacre #slashers #slasher x reader #my writing #chop top x reader #choptop sawyer

[corpsedaydream]

crash

so, here i am with a new one shot.

so before anyone asks if i’m gonna be posting frequently again or anything, i process things by writing about them. if something is running through my mind over and over and i can’t think through it on my own in my mind, writing about it generally helps me. this past weekend was supposed to be a fun long weekend away w my friends but it quickly ended when i experienced something pretty traumatic. i haven’t been able to sleep at all the past couple nights and so i started working on this. originally it was just going to be something private to help myself w the panic i was feeling then i started adding a muse into it and then i realised i was still writing about corpse without even meaning to, so i guess he’s still got me feeling musey.

anyway, i thought about keeping this private bc i’m still rly shaken up about what happened but idk feels like a shame to just let it sit on my computer.

idk if i’m back to this blog yet, i still feel indifferent about it. i’m signed out on my phone and was signed out on my laptop until just now and haven’t opened my inbox.

anyway. here’s the one shot.

word count: 1666 words (i’m not kidding)

trigger warning: car crash, panic attack

__________________________________________________

crash

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up.

The words repeated over and over in your head. You’d had dreams about crashing your car before, but usually you woke up just before the point of impact. This time you didn’t.

This couldn’t of happened, this can’t be real, this is a a dream, I’ve got to wake up.

But you were already very much awake, this was very much real.

The colour had already drained from your face, tears were welling up in your eyes and your heart had already sunk. Your hands were trembling, your chest was completely still, you weren’t breathing in that moment. Your body had reacted before your mind had completely caught up.

“Fuck.” Was all you managed to say as realisation had hit you. You’d gotten into a car crash.

You looked around you, wondering how the others cars on the road were still moving when it felt like your world had just come to a stop when your car had its collision. You heard your dad’s voice in your head, all the things he’d told you when he taught you how to drive, had - god forbid - you ever ended up in a situation like this.

You went through the motions as well as you could. You were in a state of shock and physically, you were definitely there, but mentally, you really weren’t present. You were having an out of body feeling in the most terrifying way, it was a defence from the panic that had overwhelmed you.

-

Corpse felt a surge of anxiety. He had no idea why, either. All he was doing was looking through fan art on twitter, he hadn’t seen anything that usually would make him feel like that. It just throttled its way into himself seemingly out of no where.

It was especially odd seeing that today had been such a good day. Waking up beside was usually something that put him in a good head space.

So he started to call you, you always made him feel better. But then he remembered you were driving and you were a cautious driver, you never answered your phone when you were behind the wheel. You’d told him in the past how tenacious your dad had been as a driving teacher and it had really stuck with you.

Just as he was about to hang up, knowing you weren’t going to answer, you did.

“Hello?” Something was off. Corpse heard it right away in just that one greeting from you.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t even greet you back, he already had anxiety running through him and the unsettling tone of your answer of the phone had only made it increase.

“I think so.” You were so monotoned. Corpse had never heard you speak this way. You were a lot of things, but monotone was not one. You were expressive, bright and dramatic.

“You think so?” He repeated in a questioning way, wanting to know what was wrong.

“Yeah.” You responded so plainly again. Corpse almost wanted to ask you who was he speaking to right now, because surely this couldn’t have been you. This person had your voice, but this was a person he did not know right now.

“What’s going on?”

“I crashed my car.” You said it to him so simply. There was no emotion behind it. His heart thundered as if a terrible hail storm had just broken out. 

“What?!” 

“I crashed my car.” You repeated. Once again so eerily unemotional.

“Where are you?!”

-

Corpse shouldn’t have been driving in the state he was in, but he needed to get to you. His emotions were running so high and he couldn’t comprehend why yours weren’t.

After what felt like the longest drive of his life, he reached the crash site. His panic peaked when he spotted the ambulance, immediately thinking the worst. But then he saw you standing to the side of it. You were up and talking to the paramedics, that was at least a good sign you weren’t seriously injured.

“(Y/N),” He called for you as he got out of his own car. And just like your voice on the phone, your movements were so robotic.

You were normally so open with your emotions, you were such a readable and honest person. When you were happy, you shined, when you were mad, you yelled red, when you were sad, you cried oceans. But Corpse had never seen you in a true state of shock. He’d never seen your fight or flight response. And apparently it was a stillness and unresponsive, the complete opposite to how you were normally.

“Are you okay?” He knew you probably weren’t, but he couldn’t find any clue to how you were feeling. Until his footsteps brought him closer to you.

You didn’t respond to him at all. Even words felt like too much right now. As he neared you, though, he spotted the signs of fear your body displayed that your words did not. Your hands and arms were trembling, your shoulders were slumped, your face was completely pale, sweat dotted all over your forehead despite it not being a hot day, tears were slowly spilling from your eyes one by one, your chest was moving unevenly as you struggled to breathe properly.

“Baby, c’mere.” Corpse didn’t hesitate to gather you in his arms. Holding you so tenderly against him. That’s when he felt that it was more than just your arms and hands that were trembling, your entire body had a slight shake to it. He knew you were experiencing true terror in that moment.

-

The time between your banged up car getting placed onto a tow truck and arriving back at your apartment felt like a blur.

You’d just gotten off the phone with your insurance provider when you’d heard Corpse.

“Are you in any pain?”

"What?” You’d heard him perfectly but you hadn’t once thought about how this had affected you physically.

“Are you in any pain?” He repeated himself.

“I’m not sure.” And you weren’t, but the paramedics had said that adrenaline would be coursing through you right now and adrenaline was the biggest distraction from pain. “I’m gonna go have a shower.”

“Okay.” Corpse watched you with concerned eyes until you disappeared behind your bathroom door. He so badly wanted to help, wanted to make you feel better, break you out of this state you were in that he was so not used to.

-

You didn’t know how much time you’d spent in the shower. But it was long enough that the sky had grown darker and the moon had replaced the sun by the time you emerged. Once you’d gotten dressed, you made slow steps towards your bedroom. Your hands were trembling more violently than before and your breathing was speeding up.

The shock was finally wearing off and reality was getting ready to slap you hard across the face.

“Corpse...” Your voice was so silent, almost as if you couldn’t form a word due to the air that seemed harder and harder to breathe as a panic attack started to take control of you.

Corpse might not have even heard you had he not been on such high alert for you right now. But he was, and so he did he hear you and when he saw the state you were in, he instantly got up from his spot on your bed where he was waiting for you and was wrapping you up tight.

You were hyperventilating so dangerously, your heart felt like it was being encased in treacherous clouds that tightened with every intake of air you struggled to get.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had cried this way. You were breaking down.

Corpse was completely holding you up. Had it not been for him, you would be a crumbled heap on the floor.

-

The both of you didn’t sleep that night.

Every time you were close to drifting off, the crash would replay in your mind on an insufferable loop and you would jolt awake and the panic would restart all over.

And every time, Corpse was right there to hold you through it. He didn’t sleep due to how concerned he was about you.

-

The next day was a little easier mentally, but a lot harder physically. You’d gotten so much emotion out the night before that now the pain could have your attention.

Everything from your hips up felt sore, stiff and tense. Every time you moved your neck was scary because it felt like it was about to snap. But worst of all was your chest. It was hard and painful to breathe. The paramedics had warned you about this. The impact to your chest was going to take the longest to recover from. You kept your breathing shallow, any other kind of breathing made you wince and Corpse noticed.

“You’re hurting.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating what he noticed. He’d known the signs of someone in pain. Plus he had also taken note of the bruises that had appeared on your skin, the colouring of them looking like a painting of a galaxy, all purple and blue. 

“A little bit.”

“Mhm.” He knew it was more than a little bit, but he wasn’t about to argue with you. He looked over you laying beside him, grateful that you were still here, you were alive. A car could be replaced, but you could not.

You were flat on your back because that was really only the current position that felt even the tiniest bit comfortable right now. Corpse was on his side, one of his hands supporting his head as he leaned over you. His other hand began to soothingly run his fingers through your hair and you let your eyes flutter close at the touch.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled back, keeping your eyes shut and feeling exhaustion take over you.

“Try sleeping, baby. I’ll be right here.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #writing #mine

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 10]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, guided masturbation, dirty talk, jun being a wild one, sad?????angst(sorry), mentions of break-ins/theft, yet again this chapter was meant to be shorter but here we are 😭🍒 more plot than anything else but enjoy! and as always, thank you so much for your support and interest in Cherry Bomb!! 😭💕💕💕 have a good weekend and don’t forget my halloween intro post goes up tomorrow as well!! stay hydrated bbys!!💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - ?

“Damn.”

Seungcheol sits beside you Friday morning, lips pressed into a firm line when he sees the five-digit number staring back at him from your revenue page. 

“Yeah, it’s---I--I’m…”

The two of you fall into a tense silence as you both stare at the exorbitant amount of money that the videos have made, unsure of what to say or even think.

“Um, I mean, o-obviously you get a cut of the money too, ‘Cheol! You’re half the video so…”

“Yeah, but even so, that’s---that’s an insane amount of money we made off of, what, three videos?”

You nod back slowly, sighing as you rest against the back of the sofa. “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t think… they’d do that well. Like, not saying we suck! We obviously don’t, but just… I didn’t think they’d do that well.”

Seungcheol laughs, leaning back against the cushions as he meets your blushing face. “I could quit my job and just cam with you for this amount of money. I mean, this much off of three videos? Imagine if we were regulars together.”

The thought alone sends your mind into a flurry of various ideas; biting your lip as you lean into Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“Hey, I have an idea for tomorrow’s show but remind me to ask you later!”

hoshi_tiger_xx: still out of town baby?

sleepy_wonu: i feel like you moved and you’re just not ready to tell us lol

Seungcheol smirks reading the comments; eyes flitting over to you from his place on the sofa.

“Moved? I wish! This place is probably waaaay more than my own rent though~” You pause, letting the sound of donations sound off and comments fly past on your laptop screen. “And I’m probably heading home tomorrow so get ready to say bye to this backdrop!” You pout.

therealchan99: can we quickly discuss those videos tho

angelhan: actually yes

Biting your lip, you note that Seungcheol’s eyes are already on you and that you’ve already hit the donation minimum to start your show. “Well…” You start pushing the straps of your bra down, unhooking the back until you can toss the flimsy material off. “What do you guys want to know? You know I kiss and tell~”

dom.cheol: how does he gets you so fuckin wet, baby?

alphagyu97: ur not rly friends are u? Is he ur bf?

alphagyu97: im not pressed either im just curious!!!

universe_WZ: thats what they all say

chwenon: yooo that last vid was fuckin fire tho

tangerine_kwan has donated $50

tangerine_kwan: is he ever gonna join u on cam? think u guys would be good

“Hmm~ Well, let’s start with dom.cheol’s question…” You shoot the camera a sultry smirk as you spread your legs; fingertips already dancing along the lace of your panties. “It’s really not hard~ He’s really good at what he does, y’know? Knows how to talk to me and get my panties wet~”

xcaliburDK: is he good looking

kitty_junjun: probably not as well as me 🤪

gentleman_josh95: stop while u r ahead

Letting out a soft giggle, you watch as Seungcheol rounds the sofa, leaning up against the back of it as he faces you. He keeps his phone in hand, thumb still dancing across the keyboard.

dom.cheol: he has to punish you so often though, baby.

artist8hao: i know, whats gotten into u babygirl? Why r u acting out so much?

“‘Cause I like it when he punishes me~” You lick your lips as you hook your thumbs into your panties, slowly guiding them down your legs. “But I like it when he’s sweet to me too~” Your eyes dance up to Seungcheol, tossing the material his way before speaking.

“Won’t you be sweet to me now?”

alphagyu97: oh shit hes there

universe_WZ: let him fuck your pretty pussy on cam baby

“Aww, I’d love that but he’s still a ‘lil too shy for a live show!” You run your fingertips through your folds, collecting the wetness on them before you bring them to your lips. “But not shy enough to lend your voice, maybe?”

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

Seungcheol makes sure to raise his voice enough so that he’s within earshot of the mic; adrenaline rushing through his veins when he, too, notices the sudden influx of comments and donations at his sudden appearance. “My baby’s been good today though, hasn’t she?” Nodding, you get lost in Seungcheol’s firm stare as the sound of donations and comments fire off in the background.

“Mmhmm~ So why don’t you guide me and show me how a good girl gets rewarded?”

He sets his phone down onto the back of the sofa precariously, both hands in the pockets of his sweats as he watches you. “Normally, good girls get to sit on my cock but we’ll save that for another time, baby. For now, why don’t you get those fingers nice and wet for me? Let them see how good that mouth of yours is.”

therealchan99: those pretty lips that look so good around a cock, just like i thought

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

sleepy_wonu: fuck yeah

You make sure your fingers are properly wet before you drag them down your body, soft sighs on your lips. “Don’t tease me too much though, okay?” Seungcheol grins in return, picking up his phone and sending a quick donation to keep up appearances before he glances your way again.

“Of course. So why don’t you play with that cute ‘lil clit of yours. Bet it’s still nice and sensitive after last night, huh?”

A stuttered moan falls from your lips the second you start rubbing slow circles on your clit; eyes fluttering shut at the memory alone.

xcaliburDK: fuck, all that cum spilling out of her cunt was hot

artist8hao: bet she was nice and full huh? Such a shame she wasted it

Seungcheol chuckles under his breath, “Right? Guess I’ll just have to fuck it deeper into her pussy next time.” You can’t help but clench around emptiness as you pinch your clit between your fingers at his words.

“Ngh, he made me come home with cum trickling down my thighs…” You whimper, “Not that I minded.”

“She begged me to fuck her in the shower too. Wanted me to mark you up real pretty, didn’t you? So that all your viewers could see.”

“Mmhmm…” He watches as you slowly slide your fingers down your folds to your entrance before they slide back up to your clit. “Why don’t you put two fingers in, hmm? Pretend they’re mine while you fuck yourself on them.”

kitty_junjun: aww her fingers are so small compared to yours

gentleman_josh95: bet its not even enough for her anymore huh?

dom.cheol: probably not

You slowly ease in two fingers at once; moaning when you sink them knuckle deep. “O-oh, fuck… Wha--what should I do n-next?”

“Fuck yourself on them, baby. Go however fast or slow you want to. Make yourself cum on your fingers.” He pauses; running a hand through his hair before he shoots you a devilish smirk. “But tell me how badly you wish it were me, ‘cause we both know you do.”

alphagyu97: wheeew lets hear it babygirl

tangerine_kwan: yea baby tell us

“It’s---It’s not the s-same… ‘Cause your fingers are b-bigger than mine…” You whimper, “And--a-ah, and they’re longer too…” Scissoring your fingers, you let out a breathy moan when you start thrusting your fingers faster into yourself.

“I wish it were your fingers, knuckle deep inside my pussy and making me cum. F-fuck, and stretching me open…”

You place your thumb on your clit; rubbing harsh circles on the nub as you chase your high. 

Seungcheol watches with keen eyes, the way your heels dig into the sheets and the way your brows furrow in concentration; licking his lips when he can tell you’re already close to your orgasm.

“Now let’s see that pretty pussy cum, sweetheart.”

You towel your hair off after your shower; shuffling towards the living area as Seungcheol settles into his makeshift bed on the sofa.

“Don’t you want to sleep in the bed with me for once, ‘Cheol?”

His lips press into a lopsided smile, “Are you asking because it’s your last night here?”

“Maybe~”

He lets out a breathy laugh as he reaches for his pillow, gesturing you back towards his bed. “By the way, what was your idea for your show?” You sit cross-legged on the bed just as Seungcheol sets his pillow back against the headboard.

“...How do you feel about maybe filming with me at my place?” He quirks a brow at you just as he settles onto what he deems his side of the bed for the night. ��Do tell.” He has a vague idea of where this is heading, but he lets you continue; curiosity eating away at him the longer you hesitate.

“Well, I was thinking… Maybe, and only if you’re okay with it, but… I was thinking maybe you could drive me back to my place? And I know it’s about an hour out from here but I’ll pay gas money! And we can just start heading towards my apartment a little before my show starts. That way you can use toys on me ‘n stuff. And I don’t mind if you spend the night either ‘cause it’ll probably be kinda late when we finish...”

Seungcheol nods; already thinking about the possibilities with the amount of toys you had at your place compared to his. “I mean, yeah, why not? And don’t worry about the gas money, I think we’ve both made enough money this week to last us a while.”

You can only pout in return, laying on your stomach next to Seungcheol who stares up at the ceiling. “Speaking of which… What’re we gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, you run your fingers through your damp hair. “I mean… What are we going to do about the videos? Are--Are we still going to film together?”

His lips press into a firm line as a million thoughts run through his mind; he’d thought about it a lot himself the past few days since. “I have an idea but I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.”

“Shoot, we’ve got nothin’ to lose I don’t think!”

Seungcheol eases onto his side as he meets your stare, “First of all, I don’t mind filming more videos with you. And to be honest, it’ll probably take me a bit of time before I’m okay with showing my face but I don’t mind being on your live cam shows either, if we can figure out some camera angles. But the thing is… I think if we’re going to be filming together, you need to change your filming schedule.”

Panic runs through you for a second at the idea but you quickly push it aside to hear his suggestion. “How so?”

“Well, right now you’re doing shows on Fridays and Saturdays, every other Monday and every other Wednesday, right? Your next show is Wednesday which is fine but I think if we end up filming videos together regularly, we need to adjust how often you actually cam and how often we post pre-recorded videos. ‘Cause let’s be real, you’d be way too tired if you kept it that frequent. Three live shows a week and filming with me? It’s way too much for you.”

This time, it’s your lips that press into a firm line. But Seungcheol was right. There was no way you could keep your normal schedule on top of filming with him in between. “That… That makes sense. What are we gonna do about, uh, I mean---’cause we don’t really live near each other…” Mumbling, you trail off, hoping that Seungcheol knew the answer.

“Hmm, well, you can keep your Friday shows and then I can swing by on the weekends. We can film a few videos over the weekend, even if they’re just short ones, or even film long ones and then you can just cut them into shorter pieces. So, in theory, you’d only do two live shows a week and one upload of both of us? We can figure out everything else as we go in terms of splitting profits and stuff.”

You nod at his suggestion, feeling better about the idea. “That sounds reasonable! I’ll have to make a notice for my page but hopefully it shouldn’t be too big of a change…”

Seungcheol yawns as he stretches, eyes filled with sleep when he looks at you.

“We don’t have to do anything too soon either. Those videos are still makin’ money so let’s get some sleep!”

You and Seungcheol spend the Saturday afternoon driving around town; even going so far as to drop by the roller rink one last time to say your thanks and goodbye to Jeongguk.

“The two of you are somethin’ else, man. Really. With my whole heart, I just--I love it.” He pretends to wipe a tear off of his face as you and Seungcheol share a look.

“Promise me you’ll think of my offer?”

You nod in return, a soft giggle escaping your lips. “I promise! Seungcheol tells me you stream often yourself so I feel like I can trust you but only if you get my good side too!” This time Jeongguk’s eyes light up with excitement as he reaches for your hands over the concession stand counter.

“Oh my god, if---if I promise to give you half a cut of profits, would you show up on my gaming stream? You don’t even have to be good, just if we collabed, I really think---”

“Okay, ‘Guk, I think that’s enough for now. You can ask her a thousand questions next time.” You pat Jeongguk’s hands as he pouts. “I’ll think about it, okay?” You whisper under your breath; a small smile on his lips as he nods back.

“Don’t be a stranger!”

Seungcheol links his hand with yours as he leads you out of the roller rink and back to his car; eyes flitting to his watch to check the time. “We’ve got time to have dinner and then we probably need to hit the road after.” You nod, “Sounds good! Where are we headin’ for dinner?”

“‘Guk and I went to this diner called ‘Dynamite’ a while back… The food’s alright and I haven’t taken you there yet so we can go there if you’re okay with it?”

“Sounds good!”

Seungcheol pulls into the parking lot of the diner 30 minutes later as the same neon signs greet him back. He parks near the entrance again, noting that it seemed fairly empty this time as well.

“I wonder if the guy is still here…” He mutters as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “What guy?”

The two of you exit his car; jogging up to him as he waits for you. “Just the guy who was our server when I was here with ‘Guk. He seemed familiar and it was weird.”

Seungcheol opens the door for you, letting you in first as the cold AC blasts you.

“Welcome to Dynamite, I’m Jun and I----Oh fuck!” Jun drops the menus in his hand, lips settling into a wide smile as he walks up to you and Seungcheol, tripping on his own feet as he meets you at the door. “I’m a big fan!” He harshly whispers. You blink up at him just before your eyes flit down to his pastel coloured name tag.

Jun.

Jun.

Oh. kitty_junjun.

“O-oh, you’re---you’re kitty_junjun aren’t you?” You whisper back; already noting that he was quite handsome himself.

Fuck, are all my regulars hot?

“That’s me, baby! And oh--you! It’s you! I remember you from last time! You were with that other guy! Are you… y’know. The guy.” Jun wiggles his eyebrows as he steps back and picks up two menus from the counter. Seungcheol mentally grimaces but he nods.

“That’d be me.”

Jun’s eyes light up with enthusiasm as he gestures for the two of you to follow him towards the seating area. “I’m such a huge fan, really! Of Cherry and, well, really both of you now.” He leads you to a booth before he sets the menus down onto the table. “I hope you don’t mind but I volunteer to be your server and the milkshakes are on me tonight!” Finishing with a wink, he leaves the two of you alone as he walks back towards the counter.

“Wow, ‘Cheol when you said small town, you really meant it, huh?” Giggling, you take in Seungcheol’s mildly embarrassed appearance. “Hey, you’re famous!”

Am I famous? He thinks, Or is it just my dick?

“So that’s three people that could clock me in person… I mean, I guess it could be worse.” He mumbles; cheeks flushed pink when he sees Jun walking back towards your table. Jun leans against the booth, nodding as he props a hand on his hip.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you guys. It’s just, I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity!” He laughs, “I’d ask for your autograph but then I think that’d be a little too weird.”

You can’t help but giggle at his comment, turning slightly to face him better. “Guess you were right when you said you thought you saw me, huh?” He snaps his fingers as the memory comes back to him in an instant.

“You’re right! Fuck, I almost forgot about that. Man, I thought I was having a fever dream.”

Jun stares off to the side before he fixes his gaze onto Seungcheol; eyes wide. “Hey, I never caught your name, I don’t think?” Seungcheol gulps, hoping that Jun doesn’t connect the dots as easily as Jeongguk did.

“It’s Seungcheol.”

“Oh… okay! Well, cool, are you guys ready to order?”

He lets out a breath he doesn’t realize he was holding as you relay your order to Jun; lips falling into a shaky smile as he gives his order to Jun once you were done.

“Okay! I’ll be back in a little bit!” Jun shoots the two of you a smile before he leaves the two of you alone again.

“Well, this is an interesting Saturday if I do say so myself!” Seungcheol can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him; shaking his head at the way you seem to take it so easily. “I can’t believe you’re so chill about running into people that know you!”

“Like you said, ‘Cheol! It could be worse~” You pause, “This one time I was at the grocery store and this older man came up to me and said he recognized me. I was like, cool, y’know? I know my viewers are all different ages so I don’t judge. But then, two kids came up to him calling him ‘daddy’ and I literally bolted out of that place before his wife could find me!”

The two of you share a laugh before changing the topic; only stopping when Jun comes by with your orders, twenty minutes later.

“Hey, this is kinda random but it’s not so busy right now, so… Did you wanna sit with us and chat?” You offer as your eyes dance between Seungcheol and Jun. The latter’s eyes twinkle with excitement as he sets the last plate down.

“Wait, seriously? I can take my 15 if you’re being serious!” This time, you look to Seungcheol for his opinion, already noticing the way he seems more relaxed.

“Yeah, that’s cool with me.”

Jun all but runs off to tell his manager as you scoot over to give him space when he gets back. “I’m surprised you asked if he wanted to sit with us while we had dinner.”

“Why not? He seems nice! And we’re making friends!” Seungcheol nods in agreement just as he starts eating and just as Jun makes it back to the booth with a milkshake of his own.

You pat the empty spot next to you as he gasps slightly. “I feel like the second luckiest man on earth.”

He slides into the booth next to you, making sure to keep a reasonable distance. “Hey! You’ve got a show tonight so… are you two, y’know…” Seungcheol makes a conscious effort to not choke on his food as he chews slower than he usually would; eyes flitting over to you just as you set your utensils down.

“Um, yeah! We don’t really know what we’re gonna do yet but no spoilers okay~ Nobody knows what he looks like, Junnie!” You pout. Jun can only vibrate in his seat; a pink blush on his cheeks at the sudden nickname.

“Of course! My lips are sealed shut! And well, if you’re ever back in town, I’ll give you guys my employee discount if you swing by!” He grins.

The three of you talk about various topics within Jun’s fifteen minute break, thankfully none that involve camming. Jun pouts when his time is up, a sigh on his lips when he stands. “Damn, well, I guess I’ll see you later then, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows, chuckling.

“Just wave me over if you guys need anything, okay?”

The rest of dinner goes on without issue and Seungcheol finds himself in a lighter mood than when the two of you first arrived at the diner.

You make sure to leave Jun a big tip, winking at him on your way out.

“Ready to head home after a week?” Seungcheol shoots you  a sad smile as he walks you to the passenger’s side of his car. He opens the door for you and lets you in before shutting it and jogging to the driver’s side.

“I mean, it’s not like we’re not gonna see each other anymore. If anything we’re gonna be seeing each other fairly regularly since you’re gonna come over to film!”

Seungcheol nods as he sets your apartment into his GPS; pulling out of the driveway as he begins the hour drive to your place.

“Yeah, and I mean, we can figure out what schedule works better as we go. Maybe we only need to film every other week or something too, right?”

“Mmhmm! I’ll start drafting a notice for the schedule change tomorrow and then I’ll run it by you before it goes up.”

The hour drive seems to go by quicker than you expect as the two of you spend the time singing along to songs on the radio; judging Seungcheol’s impeccable vocal skill when a rock song comes on.

“Wow, I--I didn’t know you had the vocal cords to do that, ‘Cheol!” He takes his eyes off of the road for a split second to shoot you a cocky grin.

“I’m pretty good at karaoke. We should go next time! Maybe invite all of our new friends.”

You snort in response, slapping his arm as he pulls into a residential part of town. “And if the person working the front desk of the karaoke place knows us?”

“Then we invite them in too!”

A slight blush paints your cheeks when you realize how much Seungcheol seemed to have relaxed in the last few days, if not hours. You knew it was never easy to get used to being recognized in person and there were still a lot of times where even you were flustered in person. 

“Hey, what’s going on over there?” Seungcheol’s concerned voice has you immediately peering through the window; eyebrows furrowed when you see the police cars parked outside of your apartment complex.

“W--wait that’s my--my apartment complex, ‘Cheol pull over!”

He parks the car a little closer to the scene; getting out of the car with you as the dread becomes more and more evident on your face. “Hey, I’m here with you, okay? Maybe it’s just nothing.” He offers; simultaneously knowing that his words were currently going in one ear and out the other.

The two of you walk hand in hand up to the front where you spot your landlord standing with a police officer. You call her name as she turns to you, gesturing for you to come closer.

“Didn’t you get my text message? Or any of my calls from the last 45 minutes?” You shake your head no in response, eyes dancing to Seungcheol who’s expression matches your own. “No--No I--I was out at dinner, I didn’t even hear my phone go off. What’s going on here?”

She sighs, arms crossed in front of her chest as the police officer clears his throat. “Well, Miss, there were a few break-ins tonight here. There’s a lot of broken glass and a lot of missing items. Thankfully nobody was injured but unfortunately we’re going to be running an investigation so it could take some time.”

“I--w--what about m-my apartment?” Your landlord sighs, “I’m sorry, honey, but your apartment was one of them, I---hey!”

You all but drag Seungcheol with you as you start making your way towards the entrance of the complex, panic and adrenaline guiding you as you all but throw the front door open. The sounds of the officer and your landlord shouting your name become fuzzy as you make your way through the halls; side stepping the stray items that were left on the floor. You make it to your hall when you notice a police officer standing at your front door that seems to have almost been ripped from the hinges.

“Miss, you can’t be in here, we’re---”

“This is my apartment, please just let me in!”

The officer standing at your apartment door notes the distress in your voice and sighs, “Show me some ID and I can let you in.” You quickly fish out your ID as he cross-references it with his documents. “Alright, go ahead. Please just don’t touch any of the hard surfaces.”

Your palm feels clammy against Seungcheol’s as you step into your apartment; shaky gasps on your lips when you notice the items strewn about. “O-oh my god…”

Seungcheol squeezes your hand tight, unsure of what to say. This was definitely the last thing he would’ve expected to happen at the end of your one week stay with him.

You can’t help the tears that threaten to spill as you look around your apartment and Seungcheol quickly notes the glassy look in your eyes when you turn to face him. Seungcheol quickly turns to the officer, voice stern. “I’m sorry to ask but can you give us a second alone, please? This is a lot for her to take in.” The officer nods as he steps back into the hallway.

“Baby? Tell me how you’re feeling, sweetheart.”

It only takes a split second before you’re sobbing into Seungcheol’s chest; his arms wrapping tightly around you.

He rubs your back gently, cooing to you softly as you let out your emotions. “Seungcheol, I, hic, wh--what am I--I, hic, g-gonna d-do? I…” You trail off as your mind goes a mile a minute. He’s unsure of how to comfort you, eyes taking in the ransacked room.

“We--we should probably talk to the officer outside? Figure out what’s going on. I--I mean, you’re definitely coming home with me. I’m not leaving you here like this and with nowhere to go.”

You pull away from his chest, tears still streaming down your face when you look up at him. Seungcheol feels his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. God please, I’d do anything to make sure she never cries like this again, he thinks.

“But my--my s-stuff, I--this--”

“I know, baby, I know. Let’s just both be thankful you weren’t here when they broke in, okay? We can replace the material stuff.” He smooths your hair down and wipes your cheeks, leaning down until he’s at eye level with you.

“I promise you, we’ll figure it out, okay? I’m not leaving you until we do.”

Nodding, you let Seungcheol take your hand as he brings you back to the front door where the officer is. “Hello? Excuse me?”

“Yes?”

Seungcheol looks your way before clearing his throat. “We just want to know what happened to my girlfriend’s apartment.” You squeeze his hand, hiding behind him.

“Well, we can’t really know for sure. A few other apartments were broken into. For some, the locks were picked and for others, it seemed like they just used blunt force against the doors until they gave way. Unfortunately, seeing as this is a gated apartment complex, the hallways don’t have any security cameras and we have no idea how the suspects got in past the gate.” The officer pauses for a moment as he lets his words sink in. “Usually with cases like this, a lot of the material goods eventually show up in local pawn shops or even just discarded in near-by trash containers. And judging from the building history, this isn’t the first time these burglars came by. This seems to be the second time. But that’s all we know for now. I suggest you pack some of your things and hang tight in a hotel until we get more info because, unfortunately, your door is ready to fall off of the hinges and we need to get a detective in here to see if there’s any fingerprints on the surfaces.”

“Will there be someone patrolling this place all night? How are we sure they won’t come back?”

“We’ll have an officer posted at all times, young man. I promise you nobody will get back in here.”

The tears stream down your cheeks as you quietly stand behind Seungcheol; lip quivering as Seungcheol thanks the officer for the information before turning to face you again.

“‘Ch--Cheol, what’re w-we, hic, gonna d-do now?” Your voice sounds so small to him as you keep your eyes focused on the floor.

“Has your apartment been broken into before? Be honest with me.” 

“O--once, but--but it w-wasn’t this bad...” He clenches his jaw at your words. How the fuck did this happen before without anyone finding out? “Wait, so this has happened in the past? And you never said anything?” You peer up at him, eyelashes wet with tears. 

“It, hic, they--they didn’t take as much s-stuff that t-time. But--but now I’m, hic, won--wondering if they were just s-scouting...” Seungcheol’s vision goes red; knowing exactly what he wanted to do and say but unsure of the possible outcome.

Fuck, screw it.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do, sweetheart.” He pauses, exhaling deeply before he continues. “We’re gonna pack a bag, take all your important things that you can find. I don’t care if we have to fill up my entire car with your things. And you’re coming home with me. I don’t care if you have to break the lease on this place, but I can’t in good conscience know you’re living here if people are breaking into it like this.” You open your mouth to speak, brows furrowed. “But--”

“No! No buts this time. I--I can have Jeongguk help with moving. I’m sure Seokjin-hyung can take his shift at the roller rink for one day to help us move your things. And we’ll figure things out as we go.”

“The r-rent, I--”

Seungcheol shoots you a small smile as he tilts your head up to meet his soft and warm eyes. “Please, don’t worry about something like that right now. I’m just happy you’re okay. And that you weren’t here alone where I couldn’t help you.”

You nod shakily, hands covering Seungcheol’s as he holds your face in his hands. “Seungcheol, I’m so--so sorry, I--I don’t even k-know where to start, I--this is---it’s all just so much. Really I can just---just get a h-hotel and you can g-go home...” The tears threaten to spill again but Seungcheol quickly tugs you into his inviting arms. 

This was by-far not at all how he expected to end his weekend. And he could only assume you felt the same way.

“I know it’s a lot. But we’re good at figuring things out on the fly, right? You have to trust me on this one. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. But for right now, I think you need to hurry and post a notice that there’s no show tonight while I look for your luggage so we can grab some things and get out of here, okay?” 

He releases you from his hold, leaning down to kiss you on the forehead. 

“I’ll fix it, I promise.”

#cherrybomb!cheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #scoups #seungcheol

[sleepingrenjun]

unravel | ML

A Spooky Collaboration ϟ Myself and @lucaswithnoshirt​ have taken the term ‘trick or treat’ to a new level with this Halloween special collaboration, with each of us writing about Vampire!Mark Lee and incorporating our own trick or treat twist. Who wrote the trick and who wrote the treat? Well, read on to find out… 

Find @lucaswithnoshirt​ ‘s story here! 

Genre ϟ Vampire x vampire hunter AU. Kinda horror, kinda not. Lots of angst, the usual :)

Length ϟ 11.7k 

Pairing ϟ Mark Lee x reader

Warnings ϟ character death (y’all are used to this by now), violence, blood, murder(??), vampires (is this even a necessary warning…?) making out (it gets a lil suggestive but not rly), swearing and a whole lotta angst!

Playlist ϟ unravel playlist

Summary ϟ You want him dead, so why can’t you kill him?

You’ve been watching him for a few days now. Memorising and mapping his movements one lengthy night after another. You’ve never seen his face in great detail; you don’t dare get close enough to allow for that. Not yet. He’s young, that much you’re certain of. If you had to guess you’d say he was in his early twenties – or rather his mortal body was. His immortal being could well have been several hundred years old, although certain habits of his you’d noticed while observing him made him seem somewhat immature, like he was still trying to figure out how to live with his new needs. It’s a shame really, for his mortal life to have been taken from him when he had so much future ahead of him. You’ve no idea how long it’s been since he was turned. He’s only been feeding in this area for a couple of days and before that he’d been lurking near a darkened park on the far side of the city. You didn’t know where he’d been prior to that. 

The sky was an inky blue up above you, the bright light of the moon and all of its stars the only thing illuminating the street that lay before you. He was leaning with his back against a lamppost, looking perfectly composed as he brought a hand up to wipe away some of the blood that was coating the skin around his lips and dripping down his chin. He was a messy eater, you noted. His slightly scruffy jet-black hair draped down his forehead and almost entirely covered his eyes, which you could just make out were glowing a devilish shade of red. You held your breath from your higher-up position, swiftly ducking your head when you saw him sweeping his gut-wrenching gaze over the area you were watching him from. He hadn’t spotted you, fortunately. This is one of the things that led you to believe he hadn’t been turned too long ago – if he’d been an older vampire, more experienced, he would’ve spotted and ended you in less than a second. 

Ordinarily, you’d have made your move fairly early on, the fresher ones were always the easiest after-all, but for some reason you couldn’t quite bring yourself to drive your wooden stake through his chest just yet. He was intriguing, dangerously so. You’d do it soon though; before you got too attached to the routine you’d made for yourself. 

You watched him closely as he took one last pointed look over his shoulder before disappearing within the blink of an eye.

Vampires repulsed you. Your brother had lost his mortal life to the fangs of a blood-thirsty woman when he was just 19. She’d been clever and unsuspicious, luring him in with temptation and deception before drinking the life out of him one gulp at a time. You were young and naïve when it happened; nothing more than a terrified 15-year-old trying her best to keep her breathing to a minimum so as to not notify the creature of her presence. You wanted to shout, to scream at your brother to fight back, but it was too late. 

Ever since then, you vowed to be the glorious end of every vampire you set your fury-filled eyes on; and this young man was the next on your list. 

-

The next night brings nothing much different to the previous. Hours upon hours of standing around and waiting for him to strike, your eyes growing heavy after his second kill of the evening. The unlucky soul had been a sleezy looking man who had to have been nearing 40; his greasy hair and sagging trousers enough to enlighten you on just the kind of person he most likely was, and some twisted part of you thought he almost deserved it when his neck was snapped painfully as the vampire drunk the colour from his skin. Almost. Perhaps that’s the one thing that was keeping you from approaching him, wooden stake in one hand and extermination in the other. His choice of victims was not what you usually observed from a young-looking vampire. 

After another 20 minutes or so, you pinched some skin between your fingertips to try and wake yourself up from the threatening slumber lurking within you, rendering it useless when you stifled a yawn anyway. You flicked your eyes briefly to your wrist, noting that it was now well past 2am.

Casting one last calculating look over to the young vampire who was completely unaware of your presence, you decided to call it a night and head home. You placed your feet one in front of the other as quietly as you could so as to not draw attention to yourself, the action almost second nature to you now, until you were a safe enough distance away that you felt you could tread normally. The air was crisp, prompting you to lift the hood of your fleecy jacket over your head in an attempt to keep warm while simultaneously picking up your pace. It was late October, still technically Autumn but definitely noticeably colder than you wished it was. Leaves had fallen to the ground in a colourful array of oranges, reds and yellows and it made the world look so beautiful that it was dangerously easy to forget about the monsters lurking in the dark. 

You rounded a sharp corner, your eyes dragging along the near-bare looking trees lining the pavement alongside a row of ornate looking town houses. This was a nice part of town, the pristine condition of the properties indicating it was clearly home to some of the wealthier folk. You thought you might like to live somewhere like this someday, a nice big house with no need to worry about noisy neighbours or unpleasant landlords. But as your building came into sight, you were reminded of your tiny one-bed apartment and the constant shouting that you could hear from the people across the hall. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of what you thought were footsteps coming up behind you at an inhuman speed, instantly whipping your head around and grabbing the hilt of the weapon hidden on the inside of your jacket. Nothing. You felt a shiver go down your spine, the situation immediately making you feel uneasy. You’d dealt with vampire attacks before and always managed to come out on top, and usually relatively unscathed. You silently told yourself to get yourself in check before turning your head back around, letting out the breath you were holding in when you didn’t see anything suspicious. This was one of the biggest draw backs of your vampire hunting, the constant paranoia, fear, the never-ending feeling that you were being watched or followed; but at least it had managed to keep you alive so far. 

You started walking forwards again, barely making it two steps before a hand wrapped itself around your mouth and another grabbed you by the throat, dragging you away from the light of the main road. 

You struggled to breathe as the unfamiliar hand tightened its grip on your neck, your own hands quickly raising and digging your nails into their ice-cold skin in an attempt to pry the pain away. You felt yourself go rigid when a low voice spoke in your ear, “stop struggling.”

You allowed yourself a small smile, this was perfect. If you could get this man to believe you were weak, feeble even, then he’d be unsuspecting of you. With any luck, he’d let his guard down just enough, giving you the perfect opportunity to strike. 

You let out a whimper, furrowing your quivering eyebrows and forming tears in your eyes. “Please don’t do this.” You hated how small you sounded, but it’s what you needed the man to hear in order for your plan to work. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as you stilled automatically, your lip quivering ever so slightly under the stranger’s palm. You carefully dropped your hands to your sides, feeling for the blade that was secured tightly in your jacket, hidden from the outside world. 

Despite having control of yourself, you were still aware of the distinct feeling of fear brewing up under your burning skin. No matter how many times you’d managed to slaughter yourself out of situations like this, there would always be a small chance that you would fail, and that thought made you sick. 

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” The stranger turned you around so that you were facing him, a sick smile on his face as he gazed down at you, fangs visible and eyes darkening to a beautiful shade of red. 

“Bet you’ll taste real sweet.” He dug his fingertips into the sides of your neck slightly before allowing his tongue to swipe over his lips. Had you not been moments away from your bitter end, you would’ve taken more time to admire his unnatural beauty. His cheekbones were sculpted, his silver scruffy hair framing his intricately carved face with a tender delicacy that you did not think someone of his kind deserved. His brows furrowed as he focused on a particular spot on the side of your neck, right by where his thumb was most likely bruising your tender skin.   

“Please, don’t. Please stop, oh god,” you choked out. 

He started lowering himself towards you, and you grabbed your weapon, ready to plunge the blade into anywhere you could reach from your disadvantaged position. 

Suddenly, a voice called out harshly, cutting through the cool air and causing your attacker to faulter for a short moment, thus giving you the perfect opportunity to throw all your energy into shoving him off you, quickly pushing your knife into the spot just beneath his ribcage, drawing it back almost as quickly as it slides in; you couldn’t risk losing your best blade. He cried out in surprise, eyes growing darker and angrier than they had been before. 

“Get away from her,” the new voice snarled. You could see him getting closer from your peripheral vision, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off the rage-filled creature a few mere feet in front of you, clutching at his side with one bloody hand. 

“Fuck off, this one’s mine,” he growled, locking eyes with you. 

“Like hell I am,” you said through gritted teeth, positioning yourself with your knife in a defensive hold, knees bent and ready to spring forward as and when you needed to. 

Your grip on the handle of your knife was turning your knuckles a ghastly shade of white and you could feel bruises beginning to form on your throbbing neck, but you were too focused on trying to get out of this alive to care. The figure in front of you took a threatening step forward, hand no longer clutching his side. He wore a menacing smile on his face even still, despite having been stabbed and interrupted by a stranger who you still didn’t dare turn towards. 

“I thought I told you to get the hell away from her,” the second man called out once more, this time sounding remarkably calm. Unnervingly so. 

“And I thought I told you she was mine?” The vampire before you allowed himself to snap his neck towards the other in anger, his eyes immediately widening in amusement at what he saw, lips curving upwards as he let out a snicker.

“Oh please, give up kid.” He spoke patronisingly. This piqued your curiosity and you risked a glance to the side to see what he was laughing at. You caught a glimpse of a mop of dark hair that seemed to melt into the sky, his stance seeming somewhat familiar to you, but you didn’t have the time to figure out where you knew it from. 

You were pulled back into reality when you felt a pair of hands seize you again harshly, pushing you up against the wall. You felt the faint outline of some sharp fangs touching the surface of the skin, piercing it briefly before he was ripped away from you. Before he could draw even a drop of blood. You allowed yourself a half-second to focus your thoughts. The two were circling eachother like wolves a few feet from you, hunched over. You noticed two sets of red, gleaming eyes. Two vampires, ready to fight to the death just to have a tase of your crimson blood. 

“Move.” You said to the one who had pulled your attacker off you. You’d deal with him later. He looked at you through angry, hooded eyes. He didn’t seem like he planned on listening to a thing you said, so you opted for pushing past him instead. 

It all happened so quickly, although time felt like it slowed as you jumped into the air, reaching for the stake strapped securely against the skin under your shirt with your free hand. A tangle of limbs and hands, stumbling and scratching and pain before your opponent crumpled to the floor with a gaping, bloody hole through his chest. You pulled back, weapon in your trembling hand. Your vision was tunnelled and your hearing somewhat cloudy and ringing as a result of the adrenaline coursing through your entire being at one hundred miles per hour. You were panting as you watched his lifeless body turn a pale grey before he disintegrated, leaving an ashy pile of death where his body had been. 

You touched your fingertips to your cheek, pulling them back to see blood dripping down to your knuckles. You’d have to deal with your scratched-up form when you eventually got back home. You turned back around to see the other vampire still standing there wearing an entirely unreadable expression. You immediately moved yourself to be in a defensive position, fully expecting him to fill his eyes with the fire in his soul and dive straight for you. When he didn’t move or even speak for a few seconds, you stepped closer to him, knife in one hand and stake in the other. Your hair was falling into your eyes and you could feel blood running from your cheek to your lips to your chin. You wiped at the back of your face with the back of your sleeve. You imagined yourself, you probably looked absolutely feral with your hair out of place, tears in your clothes and blood from yourself and one other smearing along the surface of your bruised skin and your ruined jacket. 

“Woah, woah.” He backed up when you stepped closer threateningly, panicked eyes piercing right through you. 

His back hit the brick wall of the alley you’d been dragged into, and he had the audacity to look frightened for a mere millisecond before he corrected himself and went back to holding an unreadable expression. You drove your hand forwards, letting out a noise of frustration when he caught your wrist with little to no effort in one of his larger hands. You did the same with the other hand since you were holding a weapon in each, but it was to no avail, he caught that one too.

“Why are you trying to kill me? I’m trying to help you!” He sounded genuinely surprised and slightly confused.

“We both know that’s a lie.” Your eyes locked onto his challengingly, you could hardly believe this guy. 

“Seriously! I would never-.” He let out a groan of pain, not having noticed you drawing your blade back before driving it into his arm. He shifted away from you.

“Fuck, what is wrong with you?” He tossed the knife from his wound onto the floor a few feet away, clutching his arm with the opposite hand and hissing as he drew it back to reveal his palm, now sticky with blood. 

“What’s wrong with me!? You’re the one who drinks human blood to stay alive!” You seethed, eyes wide and alert as you stared at him. 

“I’m not drinking yours.”

“That’s because I’m not letting you.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. Stop looking at me like that.” He sounded exasperated and you almost laughed. You’d never met a vampire quite like this before. Usually they were straight to the point; upfront about their intentions to kill you after they’d finished consuming every last drop of your sweet, sweet blood. But not this one, no, he seemed so dead set on earning your trust and getting you to drop your guard just for long enough. 

You allowed yourself a moment to take him in, since he didn’t seem to be in any particular rush, you figured you might as well take your time too. His unkempt raven hair was slightly parted in the middle, falling over his eyebrows and kissing the tops of his cheekbones. His doe-shaped eyes had calmed down, now a deep, warm brown rather than the intense red they had been earlier. His skin was pale, lifeless, you supposed. Literally. His form seemed strong but not built in the way that some were, if you didn’t know any better you could have easily mistaken him for a university student. 

He took a cautious step towards you and you felt your cheeks warm a little at the thought of him noticing your staring. You stood your ground, not wanting him to think you were weak or giving up your fight. 

“If you take one step closer, I’ll kill you,” you said as coldly as you could muster. 

“I believe you, but please don’t.” He was still clutching at his injured arm with a hand. He was currently at a disadvantage, if you could just use this to your advantage, if you could somehow get close enough to just-

He disappeared before your eyes and you whipped your head around just in time to witness him snatching the stake from your grip. He shifted again so that he was slightly further back from you, holding your stake behind his back and tilting his head to the side mockingly. 

“You know, for someone who supposedly knows what they’re doing, you seem remarkably off-balance.” He dared a smirk, now and inspecting the wooden weapon in his hands. 

“You-”

“These things are deadly, you know. I really thought you might kill me a moment ago,” he chuckled. 

“It would be my pleasure.” You didn’t see the humour in this the way that he seemed to. You were no longer scared, however, mostly frustrated. 

You took a small step towards him, determined to retrieve your stolen weapon, but acutely aware that you were now completely un-armed. This wasn’t a situation you’d ever been in before so you were unsure of how you should proceed. You couldn’t read his next move whatsoever, his expression told you nothing useful other than that he was clearly enjoying this. 

He looked right at you, his expression suddenly serious, his harsh gaze sending chills down your spine, “go home, y/n.”

You widened your eyes. How did he know your name? You don’t recall saying it aloud even once and the deceased vampire certainly hadn’t known it. 

“How’d you know my name?” You voiced with a slight tremor, it was subtle but definitely noticeable, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to feel scared. 

He was walking away from you now, his ebony clad body becoming harder and harder to decipher as he disappeared into darkness. He didn’t answer your question, but he did leave your knife on the floor where he had tossed it earlier. You hurriedly grabbed the weapon, checking your surroundings once more to see if he had come back (he hadn’t), before running home and locking your apartment door as soon as you slammed it closed. 

You slept with a blade under your pillow that night. 

-

You didn’t leave your house for the next two days, no trips to get food, no visits from friends, no nightly vampire-watch. Nothing. Partially because you didn’t want to risk anybody asking any questions about the bruises on your neck and the cuts on your skin, but you couldn’t deny the genuine fear that was keeping you at home. You weren’t really sure why you were so affected by the events that happened a couple of nights prior. You’d like to consider yourself a fairly experienced and extremely competent hunter. You’d never left a vampire you came into contact with alive. Alive, if that’s even what you could call them. And now one of them knew your name, what did that mean? Did he know where you lived? Had he been watching you like you were his prey? 

An unexpected knock at your door snapped you out of the thoughts spinning around in your head. It wasn’t late, but it was dark out. You furrowed your brows as you wondered who could be dropping by at this time. You had a few close friends; Yuta, Jungwoo and Taeyong being the ones most likely to pay you a visit, although they usually made a point of shooting you a warning text first, just in case you weren’t around. Yuta hunted vampires like you did, that’s how you met him. He had a pretty face and a fiery personality to match your own. The two of you clicked instantly, bonding over anything and everything you could think to talk about. He soon introduced you to Jungwoo, a soft boy with long legs and a heart of gold, and Taeyong, a striking guy with sharp features and an adorable laugh. The two latter boys assisted Yuta occasionally when he was dealing with a particularly tough vampire, but you preferred to strike alone, so you always rejected their offers to help. You couldn’t think why any of them would turn up at your door now, though.

You padded over to the door, feet clad in fluffy socks and glasses perched on your nose. You opened the door but were met with the sight of a brown paper bag with your name written on it in black marker. You looked both left and right in confusion, settling your gaze back on the brown bag at your feet when you didn’t see anyone at either end of the hallway. 

You picked it up cautiously against your better judgement and scurried back inside quickly. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to leave the bag outside and not lay a finger on it, but the curious part was itching to take a look, so that’s what you did. You sat down on the wooden floorboards in your living room, legs crossed and scissors in hand. You cut along the seal of the clear tape that was keeping the bag closed and hesitantly tipped its contents out in front of you. Your body stilled for a long moment, your breathing suddenly shallow and your throat dry. Your stake lay before you, still bloody, but yours, nevertheless. You shivered. The mysterious vampire who you were still tearing your hair out over had taken it with him if you remembered correctly. You were sure that your eyes hadn’t been deceiving you and that your memory wasn’t tricking you. Before you could control your own body, you found yourself at the closest window, looking out on the off chance that you would be able to see whoever had delivered the brown paper bag. You knew the chances were slim to none, but you looked anyway. It had to have been him. He somehow knew your name, so it should’ve been obvious that he knew where you lived.

You didn’t know what to make of it. Any of it. You were truly afraid, so why were you so curious about the raven-haired boy who let you live?

-

You managed to coax yourself outside after another day or so of hiding at your apartment. You felt pathetic, hiding away, you didn’t feel like yourself. It didn’t sit well with you, knowing that you’d let something so simple force you to feel emotions you didn’t want to feel. You usually felt a sort of thrill, a buzz of adrenaline. Not fear, never fear. And never interest. Vampires had always repulsed you, disgusted you. Everything that they stood for was wrong and you were here to make things right. You should’ve just killed him when you first had the chance, but you let him get under your skin, where he remained even still, apparently. 

You’d somehow ended up asking to meet Yuta at your usual spot; an old bench that looked out over the river. You were sat with your legs crossed underneath you on the bench, your head tipped back as you enjoyed the way the cold breeze coming off the water skimmed over the skin of your throat and made you feel a little more alive. It was early evening, but the sun was still up, its golden rays shining through the trees on the bank on the opposite side of the river. 

You used to come here to sit and wallow in your own thoughts after your brother died. You found yourself spending a lot of time on your own back then. Your parents were too busy trying to pick up their own pieces to look at you and the mess you had become. You suppose not a lot has changed since then; you don’t speak to them much since they’re still constantly wrapped up in themselves, and you still enjoy your own company for the most part, even if it was unintentionally forced upon you.

It became ‘your spot’ with Yuta on a late summers night not long after you’d started tracking vampires down. You were sat on the same bench with a bleeding shoulder where you’d been pierced deeply by your target’s fingernails. He’d sat with you and helped clean you up, all the while asking you how it had happened before telling you that he hunted vampires too. You’d stuck by eachother ever since.

You were brought out of your thoughts when a familiar hand ruffled your hair out of place and you moved your head to the side to see Yuta sitting down next to you; his body relaxed against the wood as he looked over at you with a small smile. His hair was a brilliant white that fell in wisps over his eyes and against his bronzed skin, a light pink spread across his nose and cheeks from the chill in the air.  

“It’s been a while since we met here, something on your mind?” 

Yuta had a way of always being able to tell when something was bothering you, and he always made a point of asking you about it but never pushing you to talk about it if you didn’t want to. He was a good friend in that regard, probably the best you’d ever had. 

“Have you ever been knocked completely off-kilter by an encounter with a vampire?” You asked, not really sure what asking him would achieve but hoping for something to reassure you that your feelings over the past few days could be justified. You looked out across the water as you asked him, your mind half in the conversation and half clouded by something else. 

The way you asked it had Yuta furrowing his brows as he thought about what to say to you. 

“I mean sure, it’s a pretty scary thing, especially when you’re just starting out.” He breathed out, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands as he followed your gaze to where the soon-to-be-setting sun was reflecting on the water. 

“I’m not just starting out, though,” you said absent minded-ly.

Yuta remained quiet for a moment, like he was unsure how he should proceed. His hands were fumbling with the sleeve-cuffs of his too-large hoodie but keeping them in place to hold his head up. It was a habit of his that you’d noticed he did when he was thinking or concentrating on something; it made him look soft and warm, despite the harsh interior you knew he possessed when needed.

“Y/n, you know it’s okay to be scared, right? That’s what makes you human-” he paused for a second, flitting his eyes towards you as he turned his head ever so slightly, “that’s the difference between them and us.”

You let out a quiet sigh. You did know that, of course you did. But feeling scared made you feel weak, and that’s the one thing you never wanted to feel again. 

You dropped your head to your hands, trying to squeeze the unpleasant feeling out of your skull. 

“I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much.” Your voice sounded muffled to your own ears as you spoke into the fabric of your jumper that was pressing its warmth onto your face. 

Before Yuta arrived, you were in two-minds about telling him about exactly what had happened the other day, but now that he was a breath away, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to do it. A small part of you worried that perhaps he would be disappointed or even angry with you for letting the vampire get away relatively unscathed, just like you were disappointed and angry with yourself.  

“You’ll get through this, just have faith in yourself,” he offered you a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Have faith in yourself. Have faith in your abilities. That’s what you needed to do.

-

The opportunity for you to prove your competency to yourself arose not even two days later. It was sometime after 10pm and you were on your way to the spot you’d spent most nights lurking before the incident. You rounded a corner, bringing the wall you took shelter behind into view. You made your footsteps lighter on instinct, bending your knees slightly to allow you to do so. 

A crunching from behind you sent a familiar thrill running through you to the very tips of your fingers, gripping your wooden weapon with your dominant hand you allowed yourself a split-second to snap your head around to see what had made the sound. You turned your head back when you caught glimpse of a shady figure disappearing at the sight of you turning around. You felt the temperature drop around you as a flurry of dark colours and pale flesh took shape in the form of a sharp-fanged woman with red hair. She snarled at the sight of the weapon in your hand.

“How cute of you to try and defend yourself,” she called as she took a step in your direction.

You laughed, “I must say, nobody in your position has ever called me cute before.”

“Do not mock me, mortal.”

You pouted at her, agitating her some more. You couldn’t help yourself; the female vampires were always the easiest to rile up. And what’s the point of all this if you can’t have a little fun, right?

She lunged at you at great speed, but you were more agile and therefor ever so slightly quicker. You dodged under her arm and turned around. You were circling eachother. 

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she hissed, glowing eyes filled to the brim with a burning hatred. 

You smirked at her agitation. “I could same the same to you, bloodsucker.”

“You’ll regret messing with me.” Her voice was low and biting, though you were barely even paying attention to what she was saying at this point. 

Her fangs glistened as she ran her tongue over them, most likely in an attempt to try and frighten you. But you were now fully immersed in the headspace you were so used to. You found yourself feeling completely at ease and the memory of the vampire who had spared you and sent you into a downward spiral slipped easily to the back of your mind. 

She darted forwards once more, but she was sloppy, and her body language gave away her movements before she’d even made them. You drove your stake through her chest. She made an unpleasant choking sound as she gasped for air, bloody eyes widening and razor-sharp fingernails grazing your skin before she was reduced to nothing more than a pile of dust. 

You crouched down to pick up the weapon that now lay neatly on the ground before you, a sticky scarlet dripping from its tip as you raised it. You wiped it clean with an old cloth from your inside pocket, standing up tall once more as you did so. You slipped both the cloth and the stake back into your jacket once you were satisfied. 

A slow clapping from a small distance in front of you drew your attention away from the now-clean, deadly piece of wood. A dark figure stood a few feet from you, leaning casually against the wall you usually stand by. 

Despite the midnight-blue that painted the sky, the figure was instantly recognisable; it was the same man that claimed he was trying to help you a few nights ago. The same man who did help you, you supposed. You felt uneasy once more. Something about his very presence seemed to command your attention even when you wished it wouldn’t. 

You had been weak last time. You had let him get under your skin and he hadn’t even tried particularly hard. Tonight would be different, you told yourself. Tonight, you would be strong. 

Still on somewhat of a high from your recent kill, you stalked over to him, pulling your favourite knife out of your jacket and keeping a hand close to the stake you had just sheathed. 

“You know, I’m pretty impressed, that was-” he started, eyes trained on yours. 

You held the knife to his neck. Its sharp blade pressed tightly against his skin, enough to hurt but not enough to break the surface. 

“Shut the hell up. Give me one reason not to kill you right here, right now.” You locked your eyes on him challengingly. 

You could feel his shallow breaths on your cheek, and only then did you realise how close you were. Your body was pressed almost entirely on his, but you didn’t dare back down. You needed to stay in control. 

“Why do you want to kill me in the first place?” He breathed out, speaking shallowly so as to not further irritate the knife against his windpipe. 

“Your very existence is reason enough,” you spat against him, eyes holding whirlpools of anger and pain. 

He was quiet for a long moment, as if he was considering what you’d said. His eyes darted between yours and you swore you could see hurt in them for a second, but it was gone in a flash as they glazed over once more. They were impossibly dark when they weren’t painted crimson, you noted. So dark that you felt like it would be easy to fall into them if the circumstances had been different. 

“I really don’t want to hurt you.” He spoke eventually. 

You hadn’t paid close attention to what his hands were doing when you strode up to him, but a slight movement at your side grabbed your attention and you swiftly glanced down. He was bringing both his hands up, but not to hurt you or lay a hand on you. He was raising them in some sort of surrender. 

You furrowed your brows in question as you brought your eyes back to his. He placed his hands against the wall on either side of his head, vulnerable palms open and facing you. 

“What are you-” 

“I told you I’m not trying to start a fight,” he cut in. His words seemed genuine, and his eyes were filled with truth. Your temples felt dizzy with confusion. 

“Why should I believe you?” 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but I swear it’s the truth.” 

Your knife had drawn the tiniest bead of blood as he spoke and you found yourself feeling bad for having cut him, even if only a little. You pulled the blade an inch, waiting to see if he would move. He didn’t. He stayed right where he was, hands up and gaze trained on yours. If he’d wanted to kill you or hurt you in any way, he would have by now. He’d had plenty of opportunities. And yet here you were, completely unharmed and just a breath away from a man who held the same sickly desire as the very ones you loathed. 

You moved your weapon from his neck, still holding it tightly in one hand just in case it was needed. You took a small step backwards to put some space between the two of you. 

“I don’t understand.” You spoke quietly, your eyes flitting between his and your breath shallow. 

“I noticed you watching me,” he said softly, as if afraid to speak too loudly in fear of shattering the momentary truce between you. 

You parted your lips to speak, but he silenced you by explaining further.

“You stood right here, night after night, yet you never so much as took a step closer. Are you afraid of me?” His voice was low and slightly raspy. 

You didn’t make a noise of complaint when he lowered his aching arms from their position on either side of his head. 

It made sense now. He had seemed familiar the night he’d tried to help you, but you were unable to figure out where you’d seen him since you’d never been that close to him before. Seeing him here, under the familiar, dull streetlamps illuminating the darkness that the clouded, late-night sky brought, you wondered why you hadn’t noticed before. 

You pondered for a moment. Were you afraid? 

You were intrigued. Something had held you back all those nights that you should’ve killed him, something. But what? Fear? No. You weren’t scared of him. You were close enough that you could see wisps of his breath as his heat reacted with the cool autumn air, close enough that you could reach over and touch your hand to his skin, close enough that you should be scared; but somehow, you weren’t. 

You were more scared of yourself than you were of him. You were more terrified of how easily you’d let him get to you, how easily he could get under your skin again if he so desired. 

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me, y/n,” he told you in a whisper.

Your eyes were blown wide and frantic. You felt so small all of a sudden as he looked down at you. You took a step back.

“I’m not.”

He let out a breath, his dark eyes matching yours. He hesitated before lifting his hand up to graze your cheekbone slowly, moving his fingers to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you flinched away before he could do so. 

“Seems you are a tad scared, little one,” he chuckled softly. He gestured between the two of you, “this position seems to be becoming a bit of a regular thing, perhaps you-”

“Stop it.” You snapped, hating the feeling of vulnerability that he seemed to put you under. Your cheeks felt hot, much to your horror. 

“Stop what?” He frowned.

“Stop getting in my head.” You paused for a split-second to gauge his reaction. “Stop whatever it is you think you’re doing.” 

The boy had the nerve to look taken aback. 

“I’m not doing anything.” He spoke back to you, “but you feel it too, right?”

“What?”

“That’s why you haven’t really tried to hurt me, isn’t it? You know you could if you really wanted to. You’re strong enough.” His gaze was soft now, eyes trained on yours, but he still made sure to keep the distance you’d put between you.  

“I don’t know why I-” The words fell silent from your mouth as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “I don’t- I’m not-” you stuttered out, mortified by your sudden inability to string a sentence together. 

He took a hesitant step closer, leaving nowhere near enough space between your bodies, but still not touching you. His breath tickled your cheek and you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from his. 

“It’s okay, y/n,” he whispered. 

“I don’t even know your name,” you choked out, and you cursed yourself internally for not being in control of your own voice.

“It’s Mark.”

You repeated his name quietly, a strange feeling brewing up inside of you. His dark locks were falling into his eyes and grazing the tops of his sharp cheekbones. He was attractive, painfully so, and you were having a hard time reminding yourself that he wasn’t human. 

You ripped your gaze off him, kicking half-heartedly at the loose gravel underfoot as you pondered. 

“Was it you who left the paper bag outside my door the other day?” You asked, although you already knew the answer, because who else could it have been? 

He nodded, speaking out a quick “yeah” when he realised that you weren’t looking at him. 

“How did you know where I lived? And how do you know my name?” 

“I told you, I know you’ve been watching me,” he said, cocking his head to the side as though it were obvious, eyes following you as you looked back up at him. 

“That doesn’t explain anything, Mark,” you spoke, putting a slight emphasis on his name as if that would make a difference to his answer. 

“Well who’s to say I haven’t been making my own observations, y/n?” He frowned slightly, his deep voice mocking you lazily. 

“So you’ve been stalking me?” You felt your normally steady hands shaking ever so slightly at the thought of him watching you when you thought you were alone. 

“I was intrigued by you.” 

You didn’t know how to respond to that. You could tell him it was creepy, you could tell him that you didn’t want to see him again and you could turn around and go back home and put this all to the back of your mind – but you would be lying through your clenched teeth. You wanted to slap yourself for feeling the same way he did. Every rational part of you was screaming that he was just trying to lure you in and entice you before drinking you dry, but one tiny part of you seemed to be shouting louder and telling you to believe him and trust him when he said he had no malicious intent. 

And the startling truth of it all was that you were intrigued by him too. 

“Cat got your tongue, little one?” He allowed himself a smirk upon seeing the heat rush to your already slightly rosy cheeks. 

You scoffed and began backing away from him, muttering “I’ll see you around, Mark,” before turning on your heel and beginning the walk back to your apartment building. 

-

You only managed to sleep for a couple of hours that night before a rapid series of knocks on your front door woke you. You sat up slowly, letting the bed covers fall away from your body gently as you rubbed your eyes awake with one hand. You slipped out of bed and tip-toed across the cold floorboards, fumbling your way silently out of your unlit room and towards the front door. Your door was chained so that it would only open a few inches when opened without unchaining it, and given the late hour, you decided it would be sensible to keep it that way. The panicked knocking started again just as you opened the door, barely giving you time to unlock the door before it was being pushed towards you, stopping as the chain reached its limit. You froze as you took in the figure through the cracked open door. 

“Y/n.”

“What are you doing here?” You spoke with your slightly raspy, sleep-ridden voice as you stared wide-eyed at the boy you instantly recognised as Mark. 

“Are you okay?” He sounded alert and slightly out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest noticeable under the black of his button-up shirt. 

“Do you know what time it is, Mark?” A quick glance back at your clock told you that it was just past 3am. Your heartbeat had doubled in speed since seeing him on the other side of your door and you weren’t sure if it was from fear or some sick sort of excitement. 

“Can you let me in?” 

You tightened your grip on the side of the door, your fingers surely turning white from the pressure of your pressing on them. You pursed your lips as you looked at him in contemplation. 

“Please, y/n. I’ll explain I promise, but this is serious.” And because of the sheer desperation in his voice, you nodded and slid the chain to the side and ushered him in, checking the corridor for any more unwanted visitors before closing and locking the door behind him. 

He was standing in the middle of the room when you turned to face him, looking somewhat uncomfortable and unsure of what to do with himself now. You stood and looked at eachother and for a moment it felt like time stopped, like you were caught in an alluring trance for what definitely seemed longer than the five seconds that it really was. 

You prised your gaze away from his and brushed past him to flick a lamp on, illuminating the dark space immediately and casting a warm glow onto his smooth, pale skin. You told him he could sit as you gestured to the sofa and asked him if he wanted anything to drink before remembering what he was, causing you to stutter out a quick “never mind.”

You sat at the opposite end of the sofa to keep as much space between you as possible, crossing your legs and leaning your back against the arm of the sofa so you could face him. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, resting his left cheek on his hands as he looked over at you. You were suddenly very aware of your sleeping attire and all the skin the lightweight t-shirt and shorts wasn’t covering; you felt heat rise to your cheeks, something that seemed to happen far more around Mark than you wanted it to. You still felt weary of him and from the look in his eyes, he understood your hesitancy, however much he wished you wouldn’t feel that way.  

“I’m sorry for barging in,” he offered. 

“Nobody else has been here, right? Giving you trouble?” He continued when you remained silent after his apology. “You’re really okay?”

“No, nobody’s been here. I’m fine, rather tired though.” You quipped, hoping he’d take the hint that you’d been asleep and were irked at having been woken from your slumber. 

“What’s this all about? Do you go knocking on strangers’ doors at this time often? A hobby of yours, perhaps?” You raised an eyebrow in his direction. 

“There are people after you.” 

You frowned at his grave tone. “People? Who?” 

“Vampires. Friends of the one you slayed earlier who are angry and ready to kill.” 

“I-” 

“You can’t let anybody you don’t trust in here. Not a soul, do you understand?” He interrupted as he turned his body slightly to face you, no longer resting his head in his hand. He looked alert and incredibly serious, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked entirely exhausted. 

“And I’m supposed to trust you?” You would’ve laughed had he not looked so incredibly tense. 

“Yes.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, turning your head away from him and staring at a slightly dusty patch of floor. The two of you lapsed into silence, and you weren’t sure if you found it comfortable or not. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you intently and trying to read the subtleties in your body language. 

Your eyes widened and you inhaled sharply at the sudden but gentle movement of some loose hair being tucked behind your ear. You slowly moved until your eyes locked on Mark, who was now sat just inches away and looking at you with such tenderness in his gaze that you felt like you might break. 

“I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t seem to get enough.” His words were whispered and said with care. “I know it doesn’t make any sense because we don’t really know eachother, but it’s like there’s this constant pull and I can’t stop it.” Both hands were now cupping your jaw delicately, and you couldn’t resist moving one of your own to rest on his as he touched his forehead to yours. “I can’t help but want to keep you safe.”

You felt hot all over and lacking any control over your own body, because this was so, so wrong, but what he was saying somehow made some sort of sense to you. Because you felt it too, no matter how much you hated it, no matter how much you wished you could hate him. 

Your eyes fluttered closed at his proximity as he glanced down to your lips, before lifting your chin and bringing his lips to yours for a split second. He had half expected you to slap him or push him away at the very least, but when you did neither he pushed forward once more and kissed you again. 

His kisses were slow and his touch soft as his thumbs gently stroked along your cheeks. He parted his lips on yours, bringing your top lip between his own and swiping his tongue across subtly, encouraging you to let him in. You couldn’t resist him. He felt so cold as his skin pressed up against you, yet so painfully right that you couldn’t will yourself to stop him as he licked into your mouth with a rich sort of passion. He tasted like the best kind of sin and he looked so devilishly handsome that you couldn’t even begin to think about how you’d got yourself into such a situation. 

He moved his hands down to grip at your waist, tracing along the subtle curves of your body as he did so and eliciting a barely-there whine from you. He pulled you closer still, leaning his back against the upright of the sofa and dragging you onto his lap in an effort to make you both more comfortable. You had one arm wrapped around the back of his neck while the other held the cup of his jaw as he continued to place long, messily drawn-out kisses onto your newly swollen lips. Your thighs were parted on top of him and you could feel him slowly guiding your hips down onto the bump that was beginning to form beneath you. He let out a small groan from the back of his throat at the sudden friction he was feeling, and you swallowed it with another open-mouthed kiss before pulling back slightly and looking at him through your heavily lidded eyes. You were both out of breath and staring at eachother with heated gazes, entirely unsure of what had just happened, what was currently happening, and yet neither of you moving to pull back further. You traced the outline of his plump lips with your thumb, pushing the skin up slightly and furrowing your brows when you saw the pointed tip of one of his fangs. 

“I don’t understand how this- I-,” you stopped yourself, not even sure if what you were about to say made any sort of sense. 

“How it feels so right?” You nodded, moving your gaze to the side. You could barely even look at him, you felt so ashamed of yourself for letting him draw you in. 

“Me neither. I’m sorry, I wish things were different,” his voice was quiet. He tipped his head forward so that it was resting just above your chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and engulfing you in an affectionate hug. You hummed in response, whispering a soft me too before burying your face in his neck and holding him against you firmly. 

He stayed with you that night, kissing you some more before carrying you back to your bedroom and pulling you against him once you were in the comfort of your own bed. You fell asleep with his arms wrapped around you and your head pressed against his cold, silent chest. 

-

Mark was gone by the time you woke the next morning, leaving barely a trace save for the messily written note he’d left on the kitchen counter. 

Stay put today, I’ll visit you tonight – M

You spent your day doing all the things you’d neglected over the past few weeks; you picked up the novel that had been sat, unread, on your bedside table for far too long, and you listened to some old records while doing work around the house. It went by rather quickly really as you busied yourself with one thing after another. 

True to his word, Mark showed up at your house sometime after 10pm. You opened the door and your face immediately dropped at how gaunt his face seemed compared to just last night, not to mention the small, slightly bloody scratches that you could see littering one side of his neck alongside a freshly formed bruise. 

“Wha- What happened?” You stuttered out, concern evident in your voice. 

“It doesn’t matter. Can I come in?” You let him in, leading him to your room this time rather than the living room. 

You sat him on the middle of your bed and placed yourself between his legs so you could inspect his injuries. You held his face with both your hands and tilted him so you could see properly, it wasn’t anything serious but that didn’t stop you from wondering why he wasn’t healing. 

“Will you tell me what happened?” He shook his head dismissively, looking to the side and avoiding your eyes.

“It was just a couple of guys, I managed to get away.” He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, it was something he was used to dealing with by now. 

“Slayers? Were they after you?” You asked as you stroked your thumb along his cheek softly, tenderly.

He let out a small chuckle, taking both of your hands in his and lowering them from his face until they were resting between you. He lay back on your bed until his head hit the pillow, groaning at the comfort of it. 

“You were trying to kill me too until last night, miss y/n, I trust you haven’t forgotten?” He was smiling and he let his eyes flutter shut as he placed his arms behind his head. He looked so handsome lying there, so normal, so human. 

You allowed yourself a small smile, though it soon fell to a frown once more when you looked at his face. 

“Why do you look so-” you paused, unsure of what word to use. “-sick? I suppose pale isn’t the right term since, well, you know. You look unwell, though.” You felt a little awkward as you sat on the bed staring down at Marks resting figure, should you lie with him? Stay where you were? 

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Was all he offered you, his eyes remaining closed. 

You opted for lying down next to him, hoping that at least offering some kind of physical comfort might make him feel better. Your heart sank slightly when he made no effort to pull you closer. You mentally scolded yourself for caring so much; as he’d reminded you, you’d wanted him dead until not long ago. How could you have become so attached so quickly? 

-

The two of you went through a similar routine for the next few days; you stayed in unless you needed to get food, and he would knock on your door at some time in the night, the time differing slightly each night. He would come in looking tired and a little worse each day, almost always immediately moving to your room to take comfort in the warmth of your bed. You would crawl in beside him, some nights staying on different sides of the bed, and some he would cradle you in his arms and you’d fall asleep like that. He was always gone when you woke up. 

You didn’t do a lot of talking, or rather Mark didn’t seem to want to do a lot of talking. You wondered several times if you’d said something to upset him in some way, but you figured if that was the case, he wouldn’t bother coming to yours night after night as he did. Perhaps he was just a more physical being, finding more warmth in actions than in words. But then why did it seem like he was keeping some kind of distance between you? 

By the fifth night, you’d grown tired of the routine you’d fallen into. You turned in his hold so that you were facing him, letting your eyes drag over his peaceful looking face as he lay with his eyes closed. You whispered his name, touching him gently on his shoulder until he opened his eyes. Now that he was looking at you expectantly, you weren’t really sure what you should say. Your eyes flitted between his as you tried to think of something, anything to break the tension. 

You hesitated for a moment, before leaning into him, closing your eyes and placing your lips on his. It started off slow, and you could tell he was a little taken aback by your sudden urge to kiss him, but he was quick to open his mouth and slip his tongue past your lips, groaning into you when he felt you reciprocate. 

“Shit y/n,” he said breathily.

This is the most you’d had from him since the first night he’d kissed you, and you couldn’t help but feel warm inside at the feeling of his hands on you, his lips on you. He nudged you onto your back, hovering his body over you with one hand by your head and the other rubbing comforting circles on the bare flesh of your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. You kissed until you were both panting heavily, until your lips were bruised, and his hair was roughed-up from your fingers running through it. 

He pulled back, tugging at your bottom lip as he did so, barely even pausing for breath before he was trailing sloppy kisses from your jaw to your neck. You let out a quiet moan at the intimate feeling, curling your legs around his own as he lay between them. You found yourself craving more from him, you were becoming addicted no matter how much you wished you weren’t. It was something you couldn’t seem to control, and you were used to always being in control of your emotions. But Mark was different. He was so hard to resist, so tempting. 

You were brought out of your thoughts by a sharp nip to your neck, followed by a peck to the same spot, and then another nip, harsher than the first. You felt your stomach sink as dread burned its way up your throat. 

“Mark.” You warned, placing your hands on his chest and trying to push him away from your neck. 

“Mark, stop!” He lifted his head suddenly, eyes glowing before he disappeared in a flash and reappeared at the other side of your room. 

“What the fuck was that?” You growled, collecting yourself and standing to the side of the bed in a defensive stance. 

“I’m so sorry.” His eyes had returned to a normal colour, but they were blown wide and he had the nerve to look as shocked as you felt. 

“Fuck, this was a bad idea.” He looked right at you before turning his head in shame. “I should’ve known this would happen.” He was speaking under his breath, but you could still make most of it out. 

You looked down at your hands, which were shaking ever so slightly. He could’ve bitten you. This is why you didn’t ever let your guard down. You should never have been so foolish to truly believe he wasn’t like the others.  

When you looked back to where Mark was, you were met by the sight of him with his head in his hands and his elbows braced against his knees as he sat against the wall. 

“I thought you didn’t want to hurt me?” You snapped, immediately reverting back to the cold demeanour you were so used to, the one that you never should’ve dropped for him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n.” He raised his voice in frustration, though you didn’t know if he was frustrated with you, or with himself. 

“Then why did you-”

“I thought I could control it,” he was tugging on the ends of his hair, a nervous habit perhaps. “The urges, I mean.”

“Urges?” You questioned.

“You have no idea how hard it is trying to suppress them when I’m around you, y/n. I can hear the blood as it flows through your veins, I can practically feel your heart every time it beats. And God, your scent is utterly divine.” He stood up abruptly to make his way over to you, stopping when he saw your reaction. 

You had backed yourself to the nearest wall, and you had no way of actually defending yourself. If he wanted to, he could overpower you right now. But something about the cautious steps he took told you that he wouldn’t. He didn’t want you to lash out at him, he didn’t want to truly lose you when he’d only just found you. 

You looked closely at his expression. He looked pained, and still scarily gaunt. “What’s wrong with you?” You whispered. 

He remained silent, just staring at you with an unreadable emotion in his deep eyes. 

Your eyes shot up to his when you came to a sudden realisation. “Have you not been feeding? Is that what this is?” 

He froze for a second and took a shallow step back, and then another. He looked nauseous, like he might be sick any minute. You’d hit the nail on the head, it would seem. 

“Answer me, Mark.” Your voice was stern as you made your way towards him, you didn’t want him to back away from this and take the easy way out. 

“Don’t come any closer, please.” He pleaded, his pupils dilated and his eyes hungry. You ignored him and cradled his face in your hands anyway, watching intently as his eyes returned to a devilish shade of crimson. 

“You either fight it or you let me help you.” You instructed him. As much as you wished you could just rid your hands of him like he was any other vampire, you were much too invested now. You cared about him, and you wanted to help him. That had to count for something. 

“You’re torturing me here,” his hands gripped at your wrists and he closed his eyes tightly as a combination of both agony and bliss soared through him. “Y/n, please, this is killing me.” He sounded strained, and you really felt bad for him, but he had to pull through this.

He pressed his forehead against yours and his unblinking, scarlet eyes were filled with a lust you’d not seen from him before, his breathing heavy and uneven. You stood like that for Lord knows how long, staring at eachother. You were feeling too many emotions at once, and you could tell that he was experiencing the same from the subtleties in his body language.  

“I can’t do this.” He shifted away from you once more at an inhuman speed.

You stood for a moment longer before making up your mind and walking to the kitchen, finding a small, sharp knife and carrying it back through to where Mark was. Never in your mortal life did you think you’d find yourself in such a position, and truthfully you were slightly repulsed by what you were about to do, but for the sake of the raven haired boy you’d come to care for so quickly, you’d do it. He looked at the knife in your hand and began backing away, his expression turning to one of confusion when, instead of lunging at him, you brought the knife to your own palm and made a small cut in the centre, letting the blood begin to pool there. 

“No. Stop it.” His tone was firm, but your mind was already made up. 

“It’s yours. Take it.”

“Y/n, I’m serious. Don’t.” He inhaled the metallic scent from across the room, eyes rolling back slightly as the heavenly stench hit him. Nevertheless, his tone remained the same.  

“As am I.” You stood before him, holding your open palm towards him. 

He gulped, and you noticed that his hands were trembling. He looked at you one last time to make sure you weren’t going to try and kill him with the knife you were still holding in your opposite hand, before bringing your blood to his lips. He lapped up each and every drop like he’d never been given something so delightful before, and you had to look away. No matter how much adoration you seemed to hold for the boy, you still hated what he was. He groaned in contentment, squeezing your hand to encourage more blood from the slice you’d made for him. 

You pulled away from him when you thought he’d had enough, and you were beginning to feel ever so slightly lightheaded. He wiped your blood from his lips with the back of his hand. You looked into his eyes, expecting him to say something or perhaps thank you at the very least, but the sight you were met with was not a pretty one. His eyes were reverting back to their normal colour, but he looked furious. 

“You should not have let me do that. Do you have any idea what the fuck you just did?” He raised his voice as he spoke, looking at you like a bull who’d just seen red. 

“It helped didn’t it? You feel better now, don’t you?” You asked. 

“I could’ve killed you, y/n.” You flinched as he loomed over you. “I need to leave.” 

“Wait! Mark, no. We need to talk this out.” You reasoned. Why was he reacting like this after you’d helped him liked that? You’d done the right thing, hadn’t you? You’d stopped him from falling even more ill. 

“Not now. I can’t be near you right now.” He was hurrying through your house to get back to the front door, and you couldn’t deny the hurt that panged painfully in your chest as he spoke. 

“Mark just-”

“I said I need to fucking leave!” He yelled before opening the door and storming out. You stopped momentarily at his outburst, genuinely shocked at his reaction. You had to go after him. If you left this unresolved right now then you might never see him again, and you weren’t sure how you’d cope if it came to that. You followed him out the door, not bothering to lock it behind you, and slipped into a fast jog as you made your way down the stairs of your building to try and catch up with him.

You turned one corner and then another until you saw Yuta standing a few feet from Mark, who had his back to you. 

“Yuta! Don’t hurt him! He’s not like the others.” You shouted over to him swiftly, slightly out of breath from running after Mark. 

He didn’t turn at the sound of your voice. In fact, neither of them moved at all. Yuta was staring at you wide-eyed over Marks shoulder, his empty hands trembling at his sides. 

“Yuta? Mark?” You called, continuing on towards them.

“What’s going-” you stopped yourself short when you got to them, feeling your stomach drop and your knees grow weak. Because stood before you was Mark, clutching at his chest. Or rather, clutching at the bloody stake which was embedded there. 

“No no no no no,” your bottom lip wobbled almost immediately as you took in the sight. “What have you done?” You whispered to no one in particular, though both the boys seemed to hear you. 

Marks legs crumpled and you gripped his arms to try and lower him to the ground more gracefully, falling to the floor with him. You pushed the hair off his forehead and cupped his cheek with one hand, your other immediately moving to apply pressure to the wound without taking the stake out for fear of that making matters worse. 

“Y/n,” he choked out, a little blood falling from his lips as he spoke. 

“I’m here. I’m here, baby” You cooed, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to fall. He couldn’t leave you like this, not after everything that had happened. “Yuta, do something!” You pleaded, too scared to let your eyes leave the beautiful boy who was bleeding out on the floor. 

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You promised him, though it wasn’t really Mark you were trying to reassure. 

“Y/n, thank you,” he sounded pained as he spoke, coughing up a little more blood as you offered him comfort through whispered words and soft touches. “And I’m sorry.” 

Your tears mixed with his as they fell uncontrollably from your eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” you hushed him softly, “I’m the one who should be saying that.” You voiced through your salty tears. 

It didn’t take long after that. It all happened too quickly, really. Mark, the vampire who had managed to prise his way into your icy heart, the boy who had made you feel more in the past week than you’d felt in years; ripped from your grasp at the hands of one of your best friends. 

Within mere seconds he was reduced to nothing more than a shadow of dust once he took his last breath, and your chest hurt in a way you hadn’t experienced since you were a girl, since your brother died. 

“I’m sorry I never got to tell you how much I like you.” You whispered.

#neowritingsnet #unravel #mark lee #vampire!mark lee #vampire! mark #vampire au #halloween au #mark lee angst #mark angst #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #nct angst #mark lee fic #mark fic

[constablegoo]

@astralglam​​​​ filed a report .

mint: does your muse view themself as virtuous & moral? what do these words mean to them?

OHOHO. hey hi ily. this is, of course, one of odo’s deepest ongoing battles, and the moment he stops questioning it is the moment he becomes a founder.

the founders grant themselves god status.  GOD!  status. they just reach out and pluck it. Within their range of power, the founders become unquestionably Just and Virtuous and Moral, their Word becomes Law, it becomes “the way things are” and “fact” and they create their own reality stemming from thousands of years of intense xenophobia. they’re above it all. gods don’t make mistakes, right? sure, maybe changelings were hunted and feared ages ago but they still fear it, and that drive for Order and Control over the galaxy is now encoded into their genes and they place a companion structure into the genes of every other species they control, subjugating them to the founders’ own cozy position as Gods, or-- ‘gods’. the founder (i rly don’t like saying “female” founder so she’s THE Founder. she speaks for the link.) makes it quite clear on many occasions that the founders are not here to negotiate. they fully intend to control EVERYTHING at any cost. it is absolutely  chilling  when she cuts garak down with: “they’re dead. you’re dead. cardassia is dead.” and draws the line between the dominion and everyone else miles deep into the sand.

that same genetic coding is one of the first semi-concrete things odo comes to understand about himself and, horribly, he’s landed into conditions under the occupation that very easily could have taken advantage of a less meticulous or stubborn changeling. no, odo says initially (and incorrectly), i am not bajoran** and i am not cardassian and i stand apart from either side of this conflict and so i am bound to PURE Virtue and Morality because of it. he can’t be bribed or bought or won over, and he won’t allow for anything less than a kind of incorruptibility. this effectively wins him allies (and enemies) on both sides, however -- that’s just not how the universe works. the truth of it is that no matter how much he tells himself he is not a part of their regime, his working with the cardassians makes him a collaborator in that he has then recognized their authority and ultimately upheld their legitimacy, even if he never agreed with the cause, even if he was also on some level a casualty of it. at some point when he moves past ‘contract’ investigation and begins to work permanently, he falls into the trap of thinking Order is the same thing as Justice... huge yikes. in that moment he becomes a true and apathetic villain, but he’s subsequently haunted by the resulting execution of innocents. it shakes something up in him. years pass and he still wonders, what other mistakes has he made? what other less direct consequences of his ‘neutral’ arbitration exist? he (and everyone around him) has to live without really knowing, and it’s a constant reminder to him of the power he holds and it informs his understanding of what Real (and imperfect) Justice Means.

**sidenote but later in s7 he introduces himself as ‘from bajor’ and AAAAAA. its good. very good. yeah, you’re bajoran, odo. he gets it now.

Mirror odo is really the ultimate example of an odo having taken those instincts to extremes in an environment that rewarded him for them -- there is no guilt there, and even a sadistic kind of pleasure in it. i’d argue that gaia!odo is another, less extreme example of an odo who’s been alone too long and lost sight of things when he single-mindedly (and against kira’s wishes) chooses her (one person) over 8000. like holy shit? NOT ok? uhhuhhhhfff. anyway. very fortunately, neither of these are OUR odo, but act as great foils to reflect on the worst (bastard cop) qualities or potential qualities of our goo pushed to highly visible extremes, which star trek just loves to do all the time.

but regular/prime odo isnt exactly a rule-follower, either. throughout his life, he frequently takes things into his own hands, uses his abilities to his advantage, spies, wiretaps, eavesdrops, and yes, harasses [quark] sometimes -- he develops his own set of values and personal rules and follows them; even starfleet comes in wary of him and how he operates and hes on thin ice. but because of possibly his most redeeming quality, odo is able to adapt those self-ordained values toward something increasingly honest: for how rigid he can be in personality, he is HIGHLY influenced by the world around him,  listens hard  to what his friends and allies have to say and adapts that feedback; this allows him to evolve and grow and take important matters to heart. he becomes more flexible and better able to hold onto what’s really most important after locking into a decision, because above all else, he is passionately committed to doing the Right Thing. he PLEADS with himself in things past, “your job is to find the truth, not obtain convictions.” by his tendency to push back against what is laid down as ‘law’ (something he becomes more and more aware of and effective at doing) as not always being good or right, or necessarily even creating Order (the thing he’s driven genetically to want), he prepares himself to challenge the most deadly voice of authority -- that of his own people.

so... yes and no. odo’s role and persona as ‘your average security chief’ might dictate that he be virtuous and moral, but he so obviously can’t fit the same exact mold as others in his position -- he has these insane abilities and this mind-consuming nature and it requires he tread with extra care, but he also has a potential for more adaptive, more nuanced morality. he has to build up his own definitions to the words, constantly examine and tease and test them, or else he risks straying too far from what he really wants to achieve -- harmony, honest justice. he has to accept that he’s a part of the system he operates in (not, in fact, alone or isolated! something he actually wants), and know that he is not exempt from making the wrong choice, just like anybody else.

carnation: what is your muse’s relationship with their gender? how do they express or not express this relationship?

ODO AND GENDER!!! i love odo and gender. let’s take this one step at a time. he starts out as an amorphous glob -- he has no gender. there’s no basis for assignment, no culture of difference, and all the goos are goo. odo takes on the shape of the first living thing he sees / the thing he sees most frequently: dr mora. he adopts an image of masculinity from mora and he adopts the hair. that’s about it, and it’s pretty much arbitrary. (maybe the hair is simple enough for his skills, too?) the next people odo meets are also these very masculine, military, cardassian leaders, so again -- this is all he knows! this is neutrality. i imagine it takes him some time to work out what the differences in gender are, and sex, and orientation, romantic vs sexual stuff, all of that. it’s all got cultural baggage he knows nothing about and does not experience, and he’s also dealing with multiple, clashing cultures to boot. since he doesnt have any strong inherent leaning, he simply opts out. he/him becomes his default because thats where he started, thats what he’s been able to successfully present and how people know him, and, terrifyingly, under cardassian rule, it probably offered a bit of safety, too, which was obviously something he needed at the time.

way way way way way down the line in season seven, odo asks kira to (paraphrasing) look at me. what do you see? [i see you.] but this is NOT me, this is only a shape ive assumed in order to fit in. she says, yes, i know that. but this is who you have chosen to be. “a man. a good and honest man.” (i knowww shes not really talking abt gender here BUT) its hard as a trans person not to read the metaphor. he’s chosen to express SOMETHING. he’s chosen something other than what he was given (neutrality) and although he doesnt personally buy into what ‘masculinity’ “should be” (ie the ferengi, smh) / would certainly not argue he doesnt feel non-binary, this is how he has presented all his life, its how hes been treated, and it is what he has chosen to adhere to. there’s a choice in that, kira’s right, and now it reflects something about him.

parallel this, i’ll mention the “female” founder again bc of course there is no discernable reason for her to have a gender -- other than to appeal (im not talking sexually here although there’s,, obviously weird shit happening with the link... yike) to odo in the sense that until that point odo has lived with “gendered” individuals and, i think importantly, kira is with them when they first meet. i think its safe to say the founder saw her, figured she was a friend/ally to odo or at least familiar to him, and took her general representation to appeal as a friend/ally.

otherwise... why, honestly? the founder’s got NO love of humanoids lmao why would she bother.

anyway i’d like to see odo experiment a bit. because when hes safe, he can!! aside from his own doubts and insecurities about shapeshifting, at some point he really has no reason not to, at least a little bit. really, it should just be another thing to practice, much like becoming a convincing rock or a leaf, its just that there are other significances in the cultures around him. i’d just like to see him loosen up a little. have fun. grow ur hair out a bit, odo, why are u still looking like ur terrible dad.

#astralglam #geez ok anyone who reads these are gods #thanks for letting me let some frogs out of my brain #like a lot of frogs #⌀ EVERY SIXTEEN HOURS I TURN INTO A LIQUID! [ about. ] #⌀ YOU HAVE NO SECRETS FROM ME. [ asks. ] #long post / #long as hell post / #sorry hopefully everyones asleep i dont wanna do readmore bc im a nuisance asjdfa

[shirtlesssammy]

8x01: We Need to Talk About Kevin

Then:

P U R G A T O R Y

Now:

100-Mile Wilderness, Maine

1 Year Later

A couple is sleeping peacefully in the forest when a bright light fills the sky, waking the woman.

The couple goes out to investigate when they hear rustling outside. It’s a deer! Close...it’s Dean! He’s looking more like a feral rat than a deer. I would not want to run into someone looking like Dean in the middle of nowhere, that’s for sure. He pulls his gun, asks where the road is, grabs a bag of their stuff, and skedaddles. Yikes. First, for anyone not caught up, let’s all collectively scream what we all thought on our first viewing: Where’s Cas??! Second, who the fuck hikes anywhere, let alone the 100 Mile Wilderness trail with that kind of gear?! Camp chairs? A lantern the size of a dining room chandelier? A tent that’s making Harry Potter quake? Anyway, I lol thinking this is the most unbelievable part of this scene, and not the dude who just got back from Purgatory. 

Clayton, Louisiana

4 Days Later

Cue up Styx “Man in the Wilderness”, and sit back and watch one of my favorite montages. Watching Dean walk down a road never gets old. He walks to a cemetery and digs up a grave. He chants an incantation over some bones, and voilà, he brings back to life a vampire! They embrace.

Wait, what? 

In Kermit, Texas, Sam’s ditching on a woman AND a dog. He drives to Rufus’s cabin in Montana, where a hiding Dean assaults him with all the monster tests. They both pass, and hug. Sam is shocked. “I guess standing too close to exploding dick, sends your ass straight to Purgatory.” Dean explains the situation with the first dick joke of the season. Sam has further questions, and Dean is vague on the details. Sam also wonders about Cas. Dean shuts down a little more and admits, “Yeah, Cas didn’t make it.” 

Sam presses the matter. “Something happened to him down there. Things got pretty hairy towards the end, and he... just let go,” Dean adds. So, he admits that Cas let go here, did he alter his memory after this? In any event, Dean’s really broken about it. 

Sam then admits that he got out of the life, tossed all his phones, etc. “Something happened to me this year, too.” Gah, like a complete breakdown and fugue state, but I will reserve my thoughts for my non-existent essay on the state of Sam’s mind when Dean and Cas were in Purgatory. That sends Dean into an anger spiral. (Natasha: LIMES)

He listens to all of Sam’s phone messages --the increasingly desperate and eventually disillusioned pleas for help from Kevin. 

He was their responsibility, and Sam just ditched him. Uh, because he was in complete mental failure! Sam hears something in the background of the last message and is able to isolate the sound to a bus station. They track him to Michigan, where his girlfriend, Channing, is attending college. 

Once at the motel, Dean sees two boys playing with their toy guns, which sends him into a memory spiral. He’s chasing a vamp in Purgatory and eventually catches him. “Where’s the angel?”

WhEreS tHe aNgEl?

W H E R E ‘ S  T H E  A N G E L?

??

?

(Don’t touch me.)

“You’re him. The human.” 

Like, excuse me? The monsters are all meeting up talking about the human wandering around Purgatory looking for that angel? LIKE PLEASE. No, please STOp. I can’t take it, even after all these years. 

Anyway, Dean keeps demanding to know where that goddamned angel is. The vamp refuses to say so Mr. Dramatic lops his head off set to a very elegant camera angle. 

Another monster attacks but Dean’s too far from his machete. Then ANOTHER monster attacks THAT monster. Spoiler: IT’S BENNY! 

Later, in the motel, Dean suggests moving on, but Sam thinks he should get some rest. Dean goes into another anger spiral --probably because he couldn’t sleep for a year and all Sam did was sleep due to his complete breakdown. Sam trying to ignore that he didn’t have control of his world isn’t helping him with Dean. Sam found “a girl.” Well, actually, she was a fully grown woman, but go on… Listen, I don't like the Amelia stuff as much as the next person, so I have a very elaborate headcanon of Sam’s mental break and the symbolic fantasy world he created while he barely existed at the cabin. 

Anyway, Sam asks Dean what Purgatory was like. “It was bloody. Messy. 31 flavors of bottom-dwelling nasties. Hell, most days felt like 360-degree combat. But there was something about being there.”

“It felt pure.”

It fElT PuRe

I T  F E L T  P U R E

Flashback to Purgatory, where Dean’s life is still saved by Benny, the vampire. Dean threatens to shiv him up the ass so...every friendship needs to start somewhere? The vampire knows an escape hatch out of Purgatory! But it’s only for humans. He’ll show him the portal as long as Dean smuggles his soul out of Purgatory. 

The first rule of Purgatory is you can’t trust anyone. Dean doesn’t trust Benny - not an inch. But he does need allies. He tells Benny that he’ll agree to that tenuous deal as long as they find “the angel” first.

At a college, the Winchesters interview Channing. She hasn’t heard a word from Kevin and furthermore, would spurn his love forever now that he’s no longer going to Princeton. Ouch! After they leave, Channing’s eyes go black and she slices her roommate's throat so she can make a phone call. DOUBLE OUCH! She reports that Kevin still hasn’t gotten in touch with her, but Dean Winchester is back.

Trying to get some work done amongst the students, Sam experiences his own mournful flashback. He hit a dog! He shouted at veterinary hospital employees! Damn it, this is an animal hospital!!! I hand you a bloody dog, you fix! Shouting helps things happen! 

Sam bby.

Dean arrives with a burger in hand, reunited with one of the loves of his life at least. Sam reports that he’s tracked Kevin to Iowa.

At a run down church in Iowa, the Winchesters pay a house call. Kevin immediately confronts them with a Borax-loaded supersoaker. Once he figures out they’re human, Kevin gives them the tour of his new digs. He’s learned how to ward against demons. And then while explaining his recent past, Kevin has his own flashback! Everyone gets one! 

In Kevin’s flashback, he’s been captured by Crowley who sits him down to work on another tablet. A DEMON tablet! Dun dun DUN! Kevin mines its secrets and tells Crowley that there’s a hell gate in Wisconsin. (Made out of cheese?) Demons gather ingredients for him and Kevin gets to have a MONTAGE of preparing a spell to open the gate. Only…

...Kevin was hoodwinking the demons the whole time. 

He’d found a demon bomb recipe and blasts away his guards while Crowley waits on a distant Wisconsin farm. 

Back in the present, Kevin’s stowed the tablet somewhere safe but before he did that, he made sure to memorize one more important spell from the tablet: a spell to close the gates of Hell...FOREVER. 

Dean and Sam head outside to the...second story church deck?...to chat. Sam’s disappointed that Kevin seems further into the hunting life than before. Dean’s proud of the kid - “he’s in it whether he likes it or not.” Oof. Dean, your Winchester is showing.

Sam heads down to the candle-lit church. He apologizes to Kevin for bugging out on him - and on everything hunting related. It’s definitely staged like a confession.

Kevin admits that he’s perturbed when he really stops and thinks about his life, post-prophet-revelation. Sam assures him that “it gets better.” Hmm RLY? Sam’s an optimist, and continues: if they can banish all the demons, Kevin might actually be free to live a good life. BRB weeping and shouting angrily at this show!

In Sam’s hazy flashback, he waits anxiously for the news from the vet. She reports that his dog will be okay. Sam corrects her - the dog isn’t his! She double barrel blasts him with sarcasm, implying that if he doesn’t take care of the dog he hit then he’s the worst person in the world. Which. Okay. I generally don’t mind Amelia though I think she demonstrably has terrible luck picking stable, healthy relationships. But this scene always has me rolling my eyes. It’s so normal to foist a dog on a stranger! Everyone has the means and time to care for a dog, not to mention a dog who has been seriously injured! A vet would not do this! Amelia, plz. 

Amelia puppy dog eyes Sam, and he’s toast. He’s spent so many years working on his offensive puppy eyed tactics, he never thought to work on his defense!

The church begins to shake and wood splits apart Kevin’s devil’s traps. A couple of demons arrive, armed with more swagger than weaponry. There’s a zappy flashy kicky fight and then Crowley and Channing arrive. Crowley demands the tablet for Channing’s life. He flashes Channing back into control for a moment as proof of life. Kevin offers himself up in exchange for Channing’s freedom and heads off to “pack up.” Then Kevin lures Crowley and Channing to a holy water trap.

As they’re being doused, the Winchesters and Kevin escape. While they drive away, Crowley orders the demon out of Channing and then kills her. Oof. 

Later, Dean gets a phone call as they stop for gas and snacks, and then passes it off as a wrong number. Kevin passes on donuts and beef jerky. He just saw his girlfriend die and that doesn’t lend itself well to gas station snacks. 

Dean offers up words of Winchester Solace™. “You’re in it now. Whether you like it or not you do what you gotta do.” Good talk, Dean! 

On Dean’s pee break, he furtively places a phone call. It’s Benny, the vampire from earlier! He’s lurking on the edges of a funeral in a not-at-all-suspicious way. He figured out cell phones! But not fashion.

Dean tells him that they shouldn’t talk for a while since they’re both adjusting to life. Benny wistfully tells Dean that Purgatory WAS pure and he should have appreciated it more while he was there. They both admonish each other to be good (and presumably not go on a murderous rampage). Good talk!

WHERE’RE THE QUOTES?

We made it, brother

I don't know whether to give you a hug or take a shower

Nothing says "family" quite like the whole family being dead

Where’s the angel?

Hey, the rules are simple, Sam. You don't take a joint from a guy named Don, and there's no dogs in the car!

So you're looking for a soul train

There's a demon in you, and you're going to your safety school

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 8x01 #we need to talk about kevin #dean winchester #sam winchester #benny lafitte #kevin tran #crowley #amelia #supernatural season 8

[daysiias]

{ zendaya ♔ 24 ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t daysia collins running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from tangerine towers and have lived here for six years. if you’re wondering what they’ve been up to, i hear they’re a crisis counselor for a living. they have been known to be quixotic yet nurturing. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching. { kim ♔ 25 ♔ est ♔ she/her }

yall know me. i’m kim, i play serenity, and i’m one of the admins!!  this is my damaged but optimistic baby, daysia. ITS PRONOUNCED LIKE DEJA VU :’) i just created her in november but she so quickly became my favorite muse to write. so buckle up! and pls plot w me. i am fragile and if i don’t get any plots i will hide in a dumpster, where i belong.

TW FOR DEATH, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, CAR ACCIDENT

here is her pinterest and a spotify playlist if you wanna check those out ~

daysia jade, day, dj, deej – anything goes. she’s 23 and will turn her head to just about anything. she’s a spring baby born march, 1996.

her childhood was pretty good. she and her brother grew up a year apart, and her parents divorced early. early enough that daysia can barely remember a time where the family was hole, and likes it that way.

however, her father did not take the divorce well and turned to drugs – meth to be specific. he only saw the kids on weekends and even then, daysia and marcus absolutely knew what was happening. perhaps they didn’t know his choice of poison, but they knew that it was just that: poison.

he was never abusive and always took care of the kids, even if he was tweaking out of his mind. there were a few instances that were touch and go, like when he forgot to take dinner out of the oven and it caught fire, or when he forgot to change the sheets – little things that added up.

when daysia was 16 and marcus was 15, they were involved in a car accident. her dad was high behind the wheel, lost control of the car, and they hit the guard rail. they went over an embankment and down a short hill before the vehicle came to a complete stop, flipped over. she watched the life drain from her brother’s face, and never got into a car again, up until recently when she started letting @malcolmvramsey​​ drive her places she needed to go. she always tries to give him gas money, but he rarely takes it.

a good deal of resentment built up for her father, but she remained stoic, even when he went to prison for drug charges and the dui he’d racked up that ultimately killed her brother. she didn’t let anyone know that she was hurting, because she numbed it all. she threw herself into her school work and her artwork, painting constantly. melting colors together somehow helped her cope. she could get her emotions out on paper. in fact, that still rings true today. in her bedroom of the apartment she lives in, she has covered one of the walls in canvas and paints over and over.

in an effort to start life over, daysia left detroit when she graduated high school. she transferred to peach hollow where she went to winchester university, not wanting a lot of attention. this is where she really came to life.

daysia was able to push michigan to the back of her mind entirely, because peach hollow had so much to offer. the people were better. the music was better. the parties were better. the education was better. there wasn’t a single thing she missed from home aside from her mother, who she kept in regular contact with and still does. they’re always texting and facetime before bed every night.

she came alive. college changed her. she was studying a subject that interested her and meeting people who didn’t have to know about her past. she did, and does everything to keep michigan her dirty little secret. she liked the party scene, but only drank or smoked weed. she refuses to touch anything that might turn her into her father. she was even hired on as a crisis counselor for a local hotline, contractual to her graduation.

in the past month, daysia has plummeted, however. nobody would ever be able to tell. she is the queen of poker face, an absolute delight to be around. she can be a little aloof, and is constantly stoned, but it’s how she gets through the day. she is an absolute goof, loves to crack jokes and make people laugh. she loves to laugh herself. these are all traits that show and cover the inner turmoil constantly trying to bubble to the surface.

about three weeks ago, daysia received word that her father passed away in jail. he overdosed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. so she didn’t. she did, however, stop doing school work and started drinking more. she’s mere days from flunking out of school and losing her job. but nobody knows, because she acts like she doesn’t know either.

all in all, she’s doing a lot of self sabotage but covering it up with every ounce of grace she has.

as for her personality and relationships, daysia excels. she is nurturing, so when a friend, or even a stranger is hurting, she tends to go to their side and comfort them. as long as she can make them laugh, then everything will be okay. she makes friends pretty easily, and keeps them for the most part. she is fiercely loyal and will absolutely scrap to defend her loved ones.

she loves love. there is no gender she isn’t curious about and absolutely loves romance, though she also tries to hide that. her walls are ten feet tall. she’s in to hook ups, flings, and polyamory. she’s very open in that sense!!

FUN FACTS

she has an english bull dog named frank!! he is her pride and joy. she dresses him up in outfits, has regular photo shoots with him and loves going to the dog park. he isn’t legally an emotional support animal, but that’s definitely what he is to her. if he doesn’t like you, she won’t either tbh

she has this lil purple pen looking thing that is always on her. it’s her weed vape and she will hit it anywhere. her dumb head is always in the mfing clouds

she has a spotify family plan that is currently only her, mac, and dom and she will absolutely invite anyone she meets bc spotify premium is something everyone should enjoy

wears a lot of graphic tees and jeans, kinda a tom boy. doesn’t love dressing up but will occasionally. also doesn’t rly like make up but DOES know how to beat her face

1000% unable to be alone for like any period of time?? like if she gets off work and no one is in her apartment she just leaves. she goes next door to mac, goes to the peach pit, anywhere she can socialize. being left to her own thoughts will always turn out poorly.

really loves poetry. cannot write it to save her life, but loves going to slam readings or checking out poetry books from the library. her adhd brain can’t handle novels – poetry is just the right length to keep her attention and dig into her soul.

oh yeah, she’s got some pretty intense untreated adhd lol

OK SO WANTED CONNECTIONS IF UR STILL HERE LMAO

ex-roommate: something happened between daysia and this person, whether it was a relationship gone wrong, a friendship with tension, or just the other person being a damn slob – and daysia removed them from the house and moved someone new in. they are probably on shitty terms.

roomate(s): ^^ the forementioned current roommate or two!! i would like her to be veeeery close to whoever lives here. they have to be ok with her dog, her weed, and how mf needy she is.

current flings: a few people are probably on her list of suitors right now. people she spends time with romantically, but hasn’t committed to. she absolutely cannot be alone, at any point… ever! so, she has someone with her at all times. m/f/nb, all good.

party friends:  this one is pretty self explanatory!! these are friends that daysia may or may not talk to outside of a party, but will always cling to at one.

close friends: she lets very few people all the way in, but those that make it are generally taken care of by day. she makes sure that they are as comfortable with life as possible and spends a lot of time with them

exes: as daysia is a ticking time bomb, there have been many people she’s blown off. whether they once hooked up, were together, or what have you, daysia has a lot of exes. she never means to hurt anyone. it just sort of happens and she has accepted it.

#peaches:intro #i'm back lmao

[faunusrights]

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 16

in which murphy nearly cries AGAIN over this fic AGAIN

Cinder didn't say anything. She returned that searching look, like she was wanting something too, like she believed Glynda held some key for her own soul.

HELP ME PLEASE GOD HELP

STOP!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE I BEG OF YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i GUESS WE HAVE THIS CHAPTER TOO. I GUESS. OH MY GOD. IM GONNA SCREAM.

we’re opening with florence + the machine lyrics and i LOVE me some florence which is the only thing helping me cope rn but HERE WE GO. WE JUST HAD PAIN. NOW IT’S TIME FOR. MORE, PROBABLY.

The room was cast in filtered blues that seemed to drown all other color, an abyss of night that stole the reds of Cinder’s dress, smothering her in wine-violet.

i once made an offal hunt bingo card that i should have been using the entire time (whoops) but add ‘colour theory’ to it somewhere. and also because i see violet i see glyndas colour am i onto smthng here,

ALSO:

She hadn't said a word beyond what was strictly necessary through the entire ride up to her little apartment.

glynda... have u been invited into a lady’s apartment,,,,,,,,, GLYN,,,,,,,,,, HAVE U PULLED,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, G L Y N D

The lights reflected in her eyes in discs, like screens, like cat’s eyes—shockingly yellow in all the somber blue.

OH

FUCK YEAH

FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT’S GLOWY EYES HOURS FUCK YEEEEEEEEEEEEAH

i have been WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT for like FOREVER oooooooh my god yes. YES. cinder yr PRETTY EYES. i love her. did i mention that. because i do,

Glynda had heard of Faunus taking blades to themselves, to try and hide their features and escape the ever-present eye of human oppression. To cut away ears and horns and tails, shearing parts of their own bodies in a desperate break for freedom.

i want to say something thats VERY 👈😢👈 because i. hrm. dont worry abt it. im filing it away. like glynda is. but in a sadder context.

‘whats sadder than this?’

dont ask,

That couldn’t happen. Glynda didn’t want that to happen. No matter the risk. No matter how Cinder would lash out.

OUGH,,, glynda if u start 2 care then cinder will start 2 care and thats a one way ticket on the pain train to gaytown. i, for one, am thrilled,

The response on Glynda’s tongue withered as Cinder, with little fanfare, lifted her dress over her head and laid it haphazardly across the dresser. When Cinder turned back around, the faint sliver of light found purchase in the thin chain around her neck and the jade pendant laid against her bare chest.

OH

OH SHIT

/crashing sounds

MA’AM,

im having to take a minute just give me a minute please give me a m in u te

It was impossible to tell whether Cinder noticed her sliding out to the left of her own body.

glynda, but slightly to the left,

HONESTLY ME TOO!!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO??????????????????? MA’AM

this bed sharing is the straw thats gonna break the murphy’s back. this is it. im gonna die.

Mindfully slow in the darkness, Glynda walked to the other side of the bed, folded her glasses onto the nightstand, and slid under the covers next to Cinder. A small space existed between them. Glynda’s heart thumped in her chest as she tried to discern even the slightest motion from Cinder at her back. Proximity made her dizzy with warmth.

im not even able to comment on like specific instances because im as LOST AS GLYNDA IS RN,,,, WHAT,,,, HELLO?????????????? GLYNDA. THEYRE

THE BED

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Glynda jostled her shoulder. “Are you awake? Cinder?”

“You’re not giving me much of a choice,” Cinder said, unmoving.

og offal hunt COULD never DID never WOULD never i am absolutely going fucking ape shitt crazy feral rn. holy shit. holy shit. lads. the bed. the bed. theyre in the bed. you. whats going on.

“I know,” Glynda agreed. “You’re kind of a menace.”

Cinder was silent. In hindsight, that hadn’t come out as encouragingly as Glynda meant.

hsdjgfsgdf if this is what its like when these two are. semi-enemies. can u imagine what it’ll be like when theyre dating

(i can)

“If I showed up on Sienna Khan’s doorstep with an army behind me, she’d demand to know what took me so long to come home.” Cinder’s eyes were burning coals lodged in the sockets of her shadowed, furious face. “Fuck her. Fuck all of them.” She paused only for breath. “It’s been years—decades—and they still think—”

GOD. THE LORE!!!!!!!!!!! i am SO interested in cinders backstory and this version is rly just going wild. going hoggie wild on this shit. what the hell happened. why did it happen????????? whats going on?????? CINDER... TELL US MORE...

She was furious, like a cornered and wounded Grimm; furious, and hungry for violence.

👈😔👈

“If there is, bring me with you.”

“You?”

“Yeah.”

this is some poetic cinema. this is some soft and tender shit. i want to cry. why is this SO good.

Something small and charmed crawled out of the hollow of Cinder’s expression: the flicker of a smile, for just a moment. She said softly, “We weren’t all born with ancient souls, Glynda. Some of us were lucky to be born at all.”

👈👈👈😭😔😞👈👈👈

this is so soft. im absolutely dying. im going to die. take me out.

It must have been the room, or the night, or air, or—something—that made Glynda admit, “I wish—that I felt that way.” At the expectant silence that followed, Glynda swallowed and continued, “Not—not with the White Fang. Just… I wish that it felt like everything had been leading to something. That everything in my life was worth it.”

Cinder was very quiet.

I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING. DIESEL. KC. I WILL PERSONALLY BURN DOWN YOUR HOUSES OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

oh this sucks SO MUCH MORE when you KNOW THINGS(tm) ABOUT THINGS and ooooooooooooooooh my god im literally gonna fuckin die oh my GOD STOP!!!! STOP I HATE IT

It was like swallowing water and holding it in her lungs. She hated how it hurt. But she would rather that than drive Cinder away. She would rather anything than be alone right now.

the good news: this edition of offal hunt is so much more potent abt everything. EVERYTHING feels more vibrant and more real and more interesting and more... everything. and its GREAT i adore it

the bad news: im fucking sobbing

“Ten,” Glynda said. “I enrolled at Beacon when I was twelve.”

okay this is still a very sad moment but also can you fucking imagine rolling up to class at 17 and seeing a literal 12 year old look you in the eye and go ‘you know i can tutor you if you need extra help’. id be fucking livid. who is this square,

Instead, Cinder dared nearer, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind Glynda’s ear. It was an oddly comforting gesture, coming from her. Glynda’s heart stalled in her chest and Cinder, ignoring it, said, “I know it meant a lot to you. That he meant a lot to you.”

me, pointing: this is it ladies and gents and beans. this is it. cinder’s gone and done it now. i can feel it on the wind. here it is. there it goes.

“What is your destiny?” Glynda asked, feeling bolder than before.

The fingers brushing hair behind Glynda’s ear stalled. Cinder’s palm laid warm against Glynda’s high, sharp cheekbone. Something stuttered and then leapt between them, and Glynda’s face went hot when Cinder whispered, “You.”

“Me?”

“We were born in the same year. You couldn’t have known that—that we’re the same age.” Cinder paused and withdrew her hand, tucking it against her own chest. “But my mother felt it. I always knew.”

Glynda didn’t begin to know how to respond.

“We were born in the same year,” Cinder repeated, almost as if to remind herself, like swearing an oath. “We’ve always been each other’s destiny.”

“I always thought it was my destiny to die,” Glynda finally admitted. “Just like my mothers.”

“No,” Cinder said, distantly. “No, it isn’t.”

okay its bad form to grab SUCH a huge section to like bring attention to it but this is. so much. not just from a fucking offal veteran perspective but SO much more too. like this section is just IT its the CORE of the THING!!!!!! and i wish i could go into why hooooooooooooly shit this bit is just. It(tm) but thats a spoiler so i will settle for this

👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈😭😭😭😭😭😭😔😔😔😔😞😞😞😢😢😢😢😢😨😨😨😨👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈👈

cinder’s last line? has me on the FLOOR. THE FLOOR.

When Glynda asked Cinder what her destiny was, Cinder had said you.  

The echo of it was butterflies in Glynda’s stomach.

im losing it. ima bsolutely beside myself

An unfamiliar tension lined Glynda, one she couldn't name or place or recognize. It choked up her throat and clogged her lungs with some unfathomable longing, but for what, she could not place. She looked at Cinder, studying every part of her face, and knew she was studied in turn; Cinder’s lips parted slightly as if she was about to speak, but she said nothing in the end.

But even without speaking, Glynda felt like she’d found an answer to a question she hadn’t had the courage to ask.

OOF. GOD. IM. AH. SHIT. C H R I S T.

i know that this is. [redacted]. and things. and that this is gonna turn into a chapter i look back on and WINCE at when [redacted] and [spoilers] happen but ooooooooooh my goooooooooooooooooood im dying. im outtie. goodbye. rip. fuck me.

#rwby #offal hunt #liveblog #im dying

[stomachflu]

hey, remember like a year ago when i was like “maybe i’ll write a second part to the story of how lynn and reed met if i feel like it?” well i’ve been struggling with

and i thought that i’d write something Just For Me to get me back in the swing of things. 

VERY long stomach flu-oriented fic (planning for another few parts! this isn’t the last one!!), very self indulgent. warnings for mentions of scat, but nothing explicit. hope yall enjoy!

---

Lynn groaned as she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket, every muscle in her body aching as she twisted to grab it. It was nearly too much effort to switch the too-bright screen on, let alone read the message with watery eyes. The first one was, apparently, from an hour ago.

>Reed: hey did u make it back home ok

>Reed: lynn

>Reed: are you ok

Lynn closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal side of the bathroom stall. She’d traded numbers with Reed after they’d walked her to the clinic before heading to class, where she’d promised to text them that she was okay prior to receiving an official diagnosis of “godawful stomach flu” with the proposed cure of “wait it out, if you can’t keep water down after a few hours then come back for an IV“.

>Lynn: not rly

Her head swam and her hands were shaking, making it hard to compose a message. Reed was already typing a response to her last text.

>Lynn: my roommate’s apparently a germophobe? and she wont let me into the room unless I’m not gonna puke

>Lynn: so ive just been like camping out in the lounge & now I'm like chilling in the bathroom

>Lynn: not great but

She leaned back, exhaling shakily as the stall swam around her. Fuck. She was pretty sure that her fever was increasing as she leaned back over the toilet seat, holding her hair back with both hands as she gagged softly, opaque saliva falling from her lips. She couldn’t bring anything up still, despite the constant sloshing of her stomach being an ever-present reminder of how much there still was in there. When the wave of nausea finally passed, she had two new texts.

>Reed: >:o!

>Reed: youre in the new dorm right

>Lynn: whats up

>Reed: ok I know i’m just some rando you met today but if you wanna crash on my couch or smth its gotta be more comfy than the lounge at 4am

>Reed: i promise i’m not a serial killer tho

Lynn groaned as she stood up, limping out of the bathroom and ignoring the disgusted looks of girls at the sinks -- she’d been gagging in that stall for at least  twenty minutes -- only to find that some other couple had sat down on the couch she’d planned to sleep on. There were a few chairs, all hard wood, and she sat down in one of them as she wrote a response, trying hard to control her tears. She was just overemotional from fever, that was all. She hugged her stomach, rocking back and forth as she typed.

>Lynn: actually that would be great if that's ok w you

>Reed: great! ill be at yr dorm in like 15min, where should I meet you?

Lynn’s stomach lurched, and she ran out of the lounge again, falling to her knees for the fourth time that day. Just like every other time, she retched wetly, gagging and spitting wads of cloudy bile into the toilet, unable to bring up anything significant.

She managed to type out the word bathroom in-between heaves, and it seemed like no time had passed at all before there was a sharp knock on the door, then the creak of hinges opening.

“Lynn? You in there?” 

She could only groan, but managed to unlock the stall door and stumble towards Reed, who grabbed her arm immediately, supporting her. “Woah, you’re not lookin’ so hot.”

The two of them were getting some very dirty looks from the other occupants of the bathroom, so Lynn tried to stumble towards the door, unable to get very far without leaning on Reed. “Not... Not feeling so hot either,” she said, pressing her free hand to her stomach.

“No shit, you’re burning up.” Reed pressed a hand to Lynn’s forehead, pulling it back in mock shock. “My car’s just in the parking lot, do you think you can walk there?”

Lynn hummed, trying not to open her mouth. Reed let her lean against them as she stumbled down the hall. She braced herself for the chill of the cold November air as they walked outside, but with Reed’s arm around her, she barely felt the cold.

“I’m just down the street,” Reed said, guiding her to what was apparently their car, “but I figured you wouldn’t wanna walk.”

Lynn swallowed back bile. “At this point, I don’t even... I don’t even care if you’re a serial killer, I just wanna lie down.”

“I think we can make that work.” 

Holy shit, Reed was strong as hell, Lynn mused feverishly, leaning nearly all her weight on them as they transitioned her into the car with one fluid motion. They even buckled her seat belt for her, making some soft noise when she moaned in pain as the strap touched her stomach.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna head to urgent care?” Reed asked. “They might be better than the student health center, and you’re really not looking good.”

Lynn shook her head, a dizzying motion that took more energy than she had. “Nah... I just wanna rest.”

“If you say so.” There was that worried note in their voice again, and Lynn leaned her head against the seat as the car lurched into motion, and so did her stomach. “I think there’s some trash bags in the glove compartment if you need ‘em. I’ll try to drive safe, but this thing? Is kind of a beater. You should see what it’s like on ice, though.”

Lynn made a small noise of acknowledgment, wincing as they bumped over mounds of slush. Saliva pooled under her tongue, and she swallowed hard. Not here, she thought. God, please not in front of Reed. Her throat burned with acid, and she gripped her stomach tightly, one hand covering her mouth. Just as her tongue lifted with a strong gag, a plastic bag was shoved into her lap. Gratefully, she buried her head in it.

“You’re okay, just get it up,” she heard Reed say, and then, “Oh, god,” as hot, foamy bile splashed into the bag, followed by a series of gurgling burps. “You’re really not feeling well, huh?”

She shook her head miserably, spitting into the bag and eventually wiping away a thick strand of mucus on the edge of the plastic before twisting it shut in disgust. “God. No. My stomach hurts so bad.”

“Do you need to get out for a sec? Being in the car probably can’t help.”

“Maybe.” Her throat still felt tight, and she tried to force a burp as she fumbled with the car door, only to end up barely scrambling to undo her seatbelt in time as she retched again and again, mucus falling in a steaming pile in the snow. Stomach finally empty for now, she belched emptily, a cloud of condensation forming as she did so.

Lynn vaguely became aware that someone was rubbing her back, and when she turned, Reed was holding her steady. “Ready to go?” they asked.

Lynn scrubbed at her watering eyes. “Yeah, she said weakly as they helped her back into the car. “God, this must be so gross for you.”

Reed shrugged as they put the key in the ignition. “Eh. I’ve got a strong stomach. Not really easily grossed out, you know? Besides, you're sick, so it’s not like it’s your fault. Someone’s gotta help you”

---

She managed to make it to Reed’s apartment without vomiting, though they did have to pull over several times so that she could take deep breaths out of the open window. Their apartment was several flights up, and they’d grimaced before slinging an arm around her shoulders, supporting most of her weight without even asking. Lynn didn’t even bother to protest -- they practically carried her up the stairs, but all she could care about was the fact that they were warm against her freezing skin.

“Okay!” Reed said, fumbling with the keys. “It’s not much, but at least I have a couch.”

Their apartment was small and cramped. The door opened onto a living room of sorts, with two faded couches forming a L-shape across from a TV. A slightly torn rug sat underneath a coffee table piled high with books and takeout boxes, and Reed rushed to clear it off, leaving Lynn standing by the front door, weaving back and forth.

There was a wall with an entryway seperating what Lynn assumed to the the kitchen area to her right, with another door closer to the entryway. On the left wall, close to where the couch sat, was a second door that was partially open. From the mess inside, she could guess it was Reed’s bedroom.

“C’mon in,” Reed said, gesturing to the couch. “Um, sit down, maybe? You look like you’re gonna die. Do you have any -- God, your roommate really kicked you out with nothing, huh? I was gonna ask if you wanted to change into, like, pajamas or anything, but you don’t even have a coat on.”

“Um,” Lynn said, still hovering awkwardly. “Yeah. She really didn’t want me to infect her.”

“Cool, cool. She’s an asshole.”

“Um --”

“No worries, I probably have something that’ll fit you.” Lynn very much doubted that, given that Reed had a good foot on her. “Do you need anything else? Like, food, we should probably make sure that you eat at some point? And I think that I might have some fever reducers somewhere around here --”

Lynn’s stomach cramped harshly. “Um,” she interrupted them, a note of urgency in her voice. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

“’Course! It’s that door--” Reed pointed to the closed door near the entrance Lynn had noticed earlier. “-- right there. Um, do you need help?”

Her guts churned again, and she managed a wan grimace. “I think I’ll be okay.”

Much to Lynn’s relief, their bathroom was almost shockingly clean. Her stomach still felt sore and achy after she’d finished expelling its contents from the other end; her nausea was fading for now, but the tightness in her throat and gnawing feeling in her stomach told her that she was far from done with this illness. She stumbled out of the bathroom, rubbing her aching stomach and nearly tripped over a pile of clothes on the floor.

“Those are for you,” Reed called from somewhere in the depths of the apartment. “Try ‘em on!”

Lynn retreated back into the bathroom, yanking her shirt off. The sweatpants Reed had provided just fit if the drawstring was pulled all the way, and their hoodie was a very loose fit, but the fuzzy inside felt wonderful against her sore stomach.

She sank down onto the larger of the two couches, which Reed had lined with sheets and stacked blankets on while she was gone. She pulled one up to her shoulders as Reed emerged from the kitchen area, carrying a mug of something steaming in one hand and a thermometer in the other.

“Hey,” they said. “Do me a favor and open wide, ‘kay? You’re not looking too hot, and I wanna know how worried I should be.”

“’s just the flu,” Lynn said weakly, but allowed Reed to slip the thermometer under her tongue. It beeped an agonizing minute later, and Reed winced at the number.

“102.3. That’s... not good,” they said. “I think that you should really rethink urgent care.”

Lynn groaned. “’M fine, really. Just need to rest.”

“Okay,” Reed said. “That’s fine, but I’m gonna need you to drink something first, okay? We’re gonna need you to keep some fluids down if you don’t wanna land in the emergency room.”

“‘Kay.” Lynn accepted a sip of the mug that Reed pressed into her hands. It was some kind of green tea, and it actually tasted... pretty good? “Thanks,” she whispered, her throat sore from fever and vomiting.

“No prob, dude,” Reed said, taking the mug from her hands. “Get some rest, okay?”

Lynn nodded, already drifting off into sleep.

---

She was vaguely aware of being woken on and off through the next few hours, Reed coaxing her to sip ice water or take her temperature before letting her slip back into feverish dreams. When she finally fought her way back to consciousness, the room was dark. The digital clock glowing on the coffee table read 8pm. She’d texted Reed to get her at... what was it, 2?

Groggy, head spinning, Lynn sat up. She felt awful, overheated and sweaty. She could just make out the shape of Reed’s body around the corner at the kitchen table, the glow of their phone illuminating the outline of their face. As if on instinct, they turned to face her.

“Hey,” they said, scooting their chair back. “You okay if I turn some lights on?”

Lynn nodded, then, remembering that it was dark as shit, said, “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

“Cool.” They turned on a lamp beside the couch, sitting at the end, near her feet. “How’re ya feeling? Your fever is still pretty high, d’ya think you could keep down some soup?”

Food? Ugh. Lynn made a face, but Reed pressed on. “C’mon, you need something in your stomach. Like, not just water, but actual nutrition, or you’ll just get sicker.”

Her stomach felt vaguely queasy, but Lynn shrugged. “I’ll try.”

“Great! I’ll warm some up for you.”

She dozed as the microwave ran and then beeped, and then Reed helped her sit up against the pillows with the bowl of soup in her lap. Her stomach gurgled as she ate, but seemed to accept the first swallow, so she did her best. She’d managed about three-quarters of the bowl when her stomach gurgled ominously, and she set it down. 

“I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

“Okay, no problem,” Reed said. “Mind if I take your temperature again?”

Lynn shrugged noncommittally, and they whipped out the thermometer. She was glad when it beeped -- the whole time she was sitting up she’d been shaking with chills, and she quickly buried herself back under the blankets, swallowing a queasy burp.

They didn’t read out the temperature this time, just sighed. “If I leave you with some water, will you drink it? The most important thing right now is to keep hydrated.”

“Um. Sure.” Reed pushed forward a glass of water, and Lynn smiled shakily, but didn’t drink it. “I just don’t wanna puke again, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. You must feel awful,” Reed said, and Lynn laughed hoarsely.

“That’s an understatement.”

“I get it. But you gotta drink something. You’ll feel worse if you don’t.”

Lynn hesitantly picked up the glass -- it felt too heavy in her shaking hand -- and cautiously took a small sip, and then another. To distract herself from the uneasy feeling in her belly, she asked, “Can I ask a personal question?”

“That depends... how personal are we talking? ‘Cause if we’re gonna get in there with the questions, you gotta buy me dinner first.” Reed wiggled their eyebrows, and Lynn felt a warmth that had nothing to do with fever run down her spine.

“Um. Why are you doing this?”

“What, talking to you? ‘Cause I’m bored, and there’s nothing on TV. I mean, if you want me to shut up, I can?”

“No! Like, taking care of a sick stranger you’ve never met. Like, gross sick.”

“Eh.” Reed shoved their hands in their pockets, looking away. “It’s what I would’ve wanted someone to do for me.”

There might have been a story there, but Reed looked a little down, so Lynn decided not to press. “Well. In that case, thank you. It’s appreciated.” Her stomach gurgled again, going from uneasy to actively nauseous in half a second. “Shit -” she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth and throwing off the blankets.

Reed jumped up, maybe to help her, but she was already unsteadily standing, the cold air a shock to her system after staying under the blankets for so long. “Hmmmk!” she gagged, saliva flooding her mouth as she wobbled towards the bathroom as fast as her weak body would let her.

She didn’t make it.

Lynn was just in the threshold of the bathroom when her stomach lurched, squeezing as she heaved again, and she lost it, vomiting into her palm and all over the floor. The sink was closer than the toilet, so she lurched over to it, barely making it over the counter before undigested soup came flooding up her throat, forming a foaming mess in the basin. She heaved again, drawing in a ragged breath before she felt a large, calming hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry!” she sobbed, tears running down her face. “I didn’t mean to -- I didn’t know I was gonna be sick, and I tried to get to the bathroom, I really tried --” 

“Hey,” Reed said. “Hey. Lynn. Dude. It’s okay. That was kind of my fault anyways.”

“It’s not! I puked all over your floor, and in your sink --” The liquid was slowly draining now, but chunks of undigested noodles and chicken and vegetables were clogging the drain. God, what had she done? "I’ll clean it up, I promise!”

“You don’t have to worry about that, I got it,” they said softly. “Don’t make yourself more upset, you’ll get --” They sighed a little as she burped over the basin again, bringing up a torrent of chunky liquid. “--Sick.”

“Sorry,” Lynn managed when she was done dry-heaving. All that would come up was airy burps.

“Again,” Reed said, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have forced you to eat or drink when you weren’t ready for it, and I definitely should’ve given you a trash can or something.” They shrugged. “Nothing that can’t be cleaned, so. Lesson learned.”

Reed guided Lynn over to sit on the closed toilet seat. “Sit here for me while I clean this up, okay? Just let me know if you start feeling bad again.”

Lynn took in a shaky breath. “Okay.”

Her stomach was cramping hard again, and she wrapped both arms around it, hunched over. Through a haze of fever, she watched as Reed, wearing a pair of dish gloves, scrubbed the sink and mopped the floor. Then, once the bathroom smelled of soap and disinfectant, they wet a washcloth with warm water and crouched down so they were eye level with her.

“Hey. I’m gonna clean you up a bit, okay?” Lynn nodded miserably, sweaty hair sticking to her face. She felt awful, shaking with chills and fever alternately, head swimming.

Reed gently wiped her face with the cloth, then her arms and hands. They re-folded it and rinsed it again, wringing it out and draping it against the back of her neck. She nearly gasped when it touched her skin. They’d used cool water this time, and it felt wonderful. 

“There we go,” they said. “I bet you’re probably wanting a toothbrush or some mouthwash.” 

God, she did feel gross. “Yeah,” Lynn croaked. “That’d be nice.”

“Cool, okay, good. Just stay here for a sec while I go grab some from the closet, okay?”

“Where else would I go?” Lynn’s eyes grew heavy. Sure, she had other places to go, but for now, she was glad to be right here.

#emetophilia #emeto #my fic

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

Hi!! idc which character but could I maybe get some like trauma comfort headcanonnons?? If not that’s totally okay, no pressure!! I hope you have a lovely day/night!

heck yea man

time to indulge y’all in my fantasies of someone comforting me when i open up to them about all the baggage i have 

mm.. i think im gonna do short headcanons for all four bmc boys because theyre just. my immediate comfort characters when it comes to writing

if someones interested ill do more hcs for the gals tho!

all of these are about opening up whoopsies

so uhhh lets start w the fact im not gonna try to specify said trauma. if i do, dont rly… put too much thought into it. but im gonna try to keep the event itself a blank slate.

jeremy heere

i think jeremy’s the kind of dude who like. doesnt know how to respond at first? like… when you open up to him, he’s more shocked than anything

not because you’re opening up to him (although he would always have a small ‘they really trust me, dont they?’ internal moment) but because of what happened to you

and to establish it: going into this relationship, he was aware of your baggage. you warned him the moment things started getting serious between you two, and you had never elaborated

but here he is, sitting next to you in his bedroom one hot, summer night in the summer between sophomore and junior year

and you finally open up to him, and he just… stares at you at first. it’s very nerve-wracking because you just kinda told him and you set out to apologize

when he just sorta. gently takes your hand and apologizes that you had to go through that

and he probs make a small comment that he’s glad you’re comfortable enough and trust him enough to tell him this since he knows from experience that opening up isnt the easiest thing in the world. 

and hes soft. theres no kisses to make things better, nothing more than him maybe holding you if you’re comfortable with it - because his stomach sorta dropped the moment you said what happened and kissing you in this instant would feel… wrong

he’s just very gentle. every move he makes with you, he asks you first for consent - whether it’s just him asking to hold you, or asking if you’d be okay with sleeping next to him again right after you told him all of this because sometimes reliving that sort of thing can mess a person up

more than anything, jeremys extremely understanding and gentle when it comes to comforting you. he might press a kiss into your hair, but that’s the most romantic he’d ever get at this time

michael mell

michael, on the other hand, is good for distractions. so you two are sitting in his car, driving aimlessly for a bit because sometimes, when neither of you can sleep, you go on quiet car rides together and maybe ramble or just listen to music

and something about that night made you want to open up. you ask him to pull over and he probably makes some small joke until he does so and sees the way you’re looking at him

and he listens. he goes dead silent as he listens to you tell him everything - which isnt like michael. usually he’s much more expressive, but here? here he’s just quiet. and he stays quiet until you’re through.

and i think he’d immediately pull you into a hug if he knew you’d be okay with it. and he apologizes over and over and tells you that as long as he’s here, he’s not going to let that happen to you again if he can help it.

and he traces circles in your back as he just holds you, and maybe you’re quiet or maybe you’ve gone silent and retreated inward - but he holds you nonetheless

and when he pulls away, he smiles at you and asks if you wanna keep talking about this or if you wanna just go back to riding and pointing out stupid signs around town or if you just want to go home

and if you want, he’s happy to distract you with dumb stories that happened in his classes last semester - and about how one of his professors seems to never be where he’s expected to be, joking about how he’s totally a cryptid 

and its sweet. he doesnt force you to open up anymore than you already want to, but theres this moment where he starts to go quiet because what you told him really starts to eat away at him

and he finally looks over at you and he just… he says he loves you. maybe he’s said it a few times before, or maybe he’s said it a million - but it feels so much more weighted in that moment that you probably start crying

and he pulls over again to comfort you and its just… really soft and sweet and good

jake dillinger

jakey d, the light of my life. i like to think that when he shows up to your apartment one afternoon, he’s sorta joking about how this is pretty early for a booty call yknow-

you just sorta laugh along with him, sorta forcing yourself to stay happy until you finally sit down with him

and he knows. he knows you’ve been through something because, like i said with jeremy, you would have told him beforehand that you have baggage.

and i think he, out of the four, is the most unsure about how to respond. because sure, jake broke both his legs and had to deal with the aftermath of losing his house and everything he had, and the squips and the shit that follows in a situation like that, but… he’s never hurt like that and he just doesnt know what to say

and i dont think he does

i think he probably literally excuses himself to the bathroom and immediately starts googling how to respond when someone opens up

and he probably texts his friends asking how should he respond when someone opens up to him about their past trauma

and when he finally comes back to you, he sees you’ve kinda broken down a bit because - fuck, how else could you really respond when your boyfriend has to leave because he just doesnt have a response and you assume that hes gonna leave you because of your baggage

and i think hes immediately in front of you, sorta kneeling in front of the couch and apologizing profusely because he left

and he admits that he didnt know how to respond because he didnt… expect that you’d open up to him like this

and then he sorta apologizes and clarifies that like… he just didnt know what to say

and you start to apologize because fuck, thats a lot to drop on a person-

he stops you. he gently holds your hands and looks you in the eye and he promises that this didnt change anything. you’re still you, and he still loves you - no matter what you’ve faced in the past. and he thanks you for trusting him. 

and he also just apologizes again because he didnt mean to scare you when he walked out - he was just… scared of saying the wrong thing, or not saying anything at all, right after you told him what happened to you

but he still loves you and he makes sure thats clear

rich goranski

out of the four, rich is probably the most equipped when it comes to trauma. hes dealt with a lot of shit and has gotten a lot of help for his shit and so he has a vague idea of how to like… respond, basically.

so when he finds you crying in the kitchen at three in the morning, he immediately knows something is off.

youve talked about things before. about having baggage, hinting at your past, but you never outright told him what happened to you to make you so distrusting of people, and so bitter about the most mundane things that feels like its destroying your friendships

so when you open up to him about what happened, hes quiet. he lets you talk and he asks you what you need right now - comfort, a distraction, ect - because everyone is different and he wants to make sure he’s doing whats best for u

and he’s more than happy to do what you need him to. he probably sits down across from you and takes your hand for a moment to tell you he’s glad you trust him enough to open up about this

because honestly, rich probably has had those talks before with him opening up about his own shit - mostly finally opening up about everything to therapists and them thanking him for being trusting enough to open up about this trauma he’s gone through

so its just… something he feels is right to do in the moment

and i dont think rich has 100% opened up about the squip to you at this point. hes been meaning to, and he wants to, but he’s talked about having some shit in his past and hes been waiting until he was ready to tell you - mainly whenever he was sure y’all are serious bc he doesnt just wanna open up to just anybody, yknow?

he kinda wants to be able to envision a future there

but i think ultimately this ends w rich and u going back to bed with rich holding you and sorta aimlessly rambling about how much he loves you like the sleepy dumbass he is

and its just… very soft

thats all ive got sfkshdf but thank u for this request it was nice to write something like this since idk i have a lot of fantasies about things like this

#Anonymous #mj's writing corner #be more chill imagine #be more chill reader insert #be more chill headcanon #bmc headcanon #bmc imagine #bmc reader insert #jeremy heere #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #jeremy heere headcanon #michael mell #michael mell x reader #michael mell headcanon #michael mell imagine #jake dillinger #jake dillinger x reader #jake dillinger headcanon #jake dillinger imagine #rich goranski headcanon #rich goranski #rich goranski x reader #rich goranski imagine

[ursoself-satisfying]

All Things Must Pass

this was a request!!! hes so young here wow

Joe Mazzello x F!Reader, sad/comfort fluff

A/N: i have so little time to write this was a struggle,,, i projected a lot onto this fic, using the language i use when im in a negative headspace n such so i hope it doesnt thro anyone off,,, i went thru a lot of what i felt then wrote that cus i deal w mental health issues n tried to portray what i go thru in a semi-accurate way but not one so specific its not readable u kno??? y'all that peep my references here tho get bonus points

Warnings: none rly,,, its kinda vague n sad like dealing w not discussing whats wrong n such,,,,, nothing bad tho,, not even any language wow!!! jk one language wh00ps

The warm mug in your hand didn’t improve your mood. The steam of the drink drifted up from the contents and swirled in intricate patterns near your face. You pursed your chapped lips and blinked your drying eyes. A feeling had been swelling in you for days, but you couldn’t quite identify it yet. With soft blankets curled around you and your body folded up on the couch, you pondered it again. This wasn’t an unfamiliar experience. It had been happening for years. The bite of the sharp night air bled through a crack in your draping covers and you shivered, conserving your heat by pulling further into yourself. Though familiar, this state you were in was anything but comfortable. Even if you really were comfortable like this, you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it.

The kitchen light was the only thing shining through the apartment. It wasn’t your apartment, no. This wave had to come crashing down on you when you were far from the safety of your home. This apartment was safe It belonged to your boyfriend and he made you feel safe, but he wasn’t there right now. It was just you and the sound of minuscule little droplets of rain pattering against the window. The street lights made the storm seem like a glitter against the glass, reflecting back the business of the night.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, but you had to remember it was ok not to be ok sometimes. “We naturally go through emotional highs and lows, everyone does,” she told you, “it doesn’t mean you’re broken if you feel bad- it means you're human.” ‘Remeber that,’ you'd thought, ‘remember it’s ok. You’re ok.’

Your drink smelled sweet and a little burnt. You breathed in the warmth wafting from it before slowly and cautiously tipping the cup to your lips. A hiss escaped your lips at the still scalding temperature colliding with your raw skin and you sighed. Your love of the cold weather had betrayed you and left you weak. The entire situation was stressful and tiring, and you’d cry if you could but for some horrible reason you just couldn’t.

Your mind struggled to focus on one thing at a time that had led to your current emotions but it mostly focused on the bad. Your mind was foggy and muddled and insisted on making a mental list of all the reasons your life was the absolute worst in this very moment. ‘Perhaps,’ you reasoned, ‘if I identify what's wrong, I can fix it.’

You were far from home. New York City was scary and big and loud and dirty and new to you. This was exciting and terrifying at the same time. You wanted to see everything, and Joe wanted to show it all to you, but of course, he still had work things and you were left alone. You only had so much time there and even less time with him. There was never any way you could have fit in every important place you wanted to see into the few precious hours you could share.

That led into your second reason, which was that you just desperately missed Joe. He hadn’t wanted to leave you alone,  but duty does call and he had to answer. “I love you, ok? I’m so sorry, I- I wish I could have planned for this but-”

“You couldn’t have known! It’s ok,” You’d smiled at him and he kissed you before he left. Every morning and every night and every time he had the chance, he kissed you. God, it gave you life. His face just seemed to fit into your so perfectly, like your hands were molded against his cheeks. You closed your eyes and could almost feel him there with you, his warmth keeping you sane, but when you opened your eyes, he was gone.

Maybe the third reason was that your relationship was fairly new and you were insecure in the commitment for a number of reasons- or maybe it’s just that the holiday season was upon you and that ‘seasonal depression’ was hitting you hard. There was so much to do, so much to not miss out on, and so little time to relax and actually enjoy this time of year. Joe hadn’t managed to decorate for anything yet and had actually planned to do so with you, but it didn’t look like you’d have the chance to now. There were no lights up anywhere, no festive knick-knacks up on the shelves, nothing.

‘Or maybe,’ you thought, ‘it’s not seasonal, it’s just me.’ This was a turning point and you were scared. Joe had never seen you in such a deep, naturally dark headspace before, and you had little explanation for it. There was no one thing you could blame for the way you felt. It was just- Everything. A vague yet overwhelming anxiety rolled through you that made your guts feel like they’d turned to sawdust and were swirling around inside you like you were the floor of some horrible workshop.

The lighter side of your mind spoke up, ‘Maybe that’s not such a bad comparison, I mean, you are a workshop, always tinkering, changing, evolving. You are a human bent on self-improvement. Recovery,’ the voice reminded, ‘is not linear.’

“But any step forward is a good step,” you said out loud.

“What’s that from?”

“Holy fuckin’ sh-!” Your entire body jolted violently at the surprise of the response and your drink sloshed over the sides of your mug, spilling all over your blanket. Thankfully, it was no longer hot. “God, what a- what a waste of a good cup of-” Your curses trailed off into angry murmurs and you stood before looking over at Joe standing in the entryway looking equally as startled.

He’d just come back from a meeting with a potential director for an upcoming film to be met with his girlfriend completely spaced out on the couch. She’d been sitting there for several minutes without knowing he’d come in. When he spoke and surprised her, he jumped nearly as much as she did. He went over to help her clean up the spilled drink with a soft, sorry expression. She’d already gotten up, though, and shuffled to the kitchen without really acknowledging him. Something about the situation made Joe feel sick and guilty. “I’m so sorry. I, uh,” he paused and breathed a laugh as he picked up a pillow slipping off the couch and looked at the form that had moved into the kitchen, placing the empty cup on the counter with a soft click of ceramic against marble.

His breath hitched and he forgot whatever it was he’d intended to say to her. She was cast in odd shadows from the lights of the streetlamps inside combatting with the yellow glow of from above the stove. The scene carried none of the normally blissfull air his lover had. It was sharp and contrasting, like the set of an old expressionist film. He thought she would look fit beside the likes of Nosferatu, her in her cloak of covers and tussled hair barely emerging from the makeshift hood that supported her neck. The way she’d cocooned herself reminded him of a lost child standing alone in the cold, one no passing stranger would stop to notice.

It was silent for a moment as the actor continued absorbing her aura. The cars driving about in the rain echoed through the building. The sounds of splashing through puddles and revving engines drifted by his ears. [Y/N] stared at the sink before slowly meeting her boyfriend’s gaze. They just looked at each other. Joe felt like he wasn’t even there though like she didn’t see him there. She stared through him with the same disassociated look she had when he’d walked in. His shoes suddenly became of great interest to him and dragged his attention from her to the grain of the floor. “I’m,” he gulped and raised his eyebrows in a mixture of guilt and concern, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here with you today.” He looked at her again and she finally seemed to notice him standing there.

His sad puppy dog eyes bore you down. You’d fallen so hard for them. Before you’d even learned his name, you knew him by his eyes. You forced yourself to process what he’d said and were quickly overcome with guilt of your own. “Oh- Oh, no! Joe,” you pleaded and sighed as you rushed to him with a sympathetic smile, “I’m sorry, I just, like, spaced out- I’m fine, it’s all fine.” You nodded lightly at him with a stretched smile and looked up at him with hands gently placed on his chest, holding tightly to the coat he’d yet to remove.

“I know you have to work and I could never-” You bit your lip as your mental search for words was shown through the frantic lines your eyes traced, “I never want to be an obstacle.” With a softened gaze, pleading for ease in the oddly uncomfortable situation, you continued, “I’m pretty sure I’m always gonna love you, and I’ll be here,” his mouth parted as you paused, “just for you. No matter how many dates you miss, as long as you’re doing your best.” A pitiful chuckle fell from your lips.

So early in your relationship, you weren’t sure when an appropriate time to address your current emotional state would present itself. Then again, is any time a good time to discuss something like this? You felt he deserved an explanation, at the very least, to ease him a bit from the stiff form he kept since he’d returned that night. ‘Where to begin’, you wondered. Before you could let another sad syllable drip from your clenched teeth, jaw tight in distracted thought, arms wrapped around you and a bristly cheek pressed against your own.

“This is weird.” He whispered, “Why are we weird right now?” The blankets around were nuzzled out of the way so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck. His nose pressed hard against your hot skin. You were unprepared for the contact. All you could focus on was his heavy breathing beside your ear, every exhale slipping down your back and making you shiver. Cautious hands danced up the back of his neck, barely touching the airs that stood on end from the undefinable energy surging between the two of you. Molding yourself to fit perfectly in the empty cavities of space left, you were flush against him, clinging to the back of his head and letting his arms shift under yours to support you.

“I’m bad right now.” Your voice was almost a whimper, choking you on it’s way out. It wasn’t even your voice, the words were breaths you let out at all once. Joe- You weren’t sure he understood, and you didn’t expect him to immediately. He has no context yet, no reference besides what you’d carefully revealed to him. It was never your intention to hide any of your traits or symptoms or past from him, or most anyone, really, but it wasn’t exactly a hot topic of conversation.

He’d remembered briefly her using the phrase ‘when I was bad’ once or twice when referring to her mental and emotional state, but she didn’t often talk about it. Either it was sensitive or simply private, but it was fine. He didn’t push. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable or drive her away. While respecting her privacy and her past, he still swelled with concern at the thought of not knowing. It was a loving kind of fear that filled his stomach when he’d imagined moments like this; moments where something was wrong, something was off and he was in the dark. He didn’t need a reason to love and support her, but he was unsure of how to help in the best way.

“Bad emotionally,” she started in barely a whisper, though it was louder than before, “not ‘bad’ like-” There was a hot huff of air with a small laugh behind it and [Y/N] sniffled, “not ‘bad’ like- like ‘I’ve been bad, officer’- not in a sexual way-” It was punctuated with a cottony laugh.

Joe shook his head softly and gave the girl in his arms a squeeze. His smile was wide, though she couldn’t see it. Her squeak made him laugh a little and he could feel the air around them suddenly lose about five pounds. It was easier to lift his shoulders in this new situation.

After a moment of breathing in sync, cars passing by, and rain beating rhythmically against the windows, the man broke the silence. “You don’t have to say anything-”

“You know I can’t do that, Joe.” He held onto her for a moment longer then pulled only his head back slightly to kiss her turned cheek while she was still in his embrace. In the warm kitchen light, the patterns of the blanket and the shadows of the passing headlight combined like brushstrokes on the scene and turned them into the likeness of a Klimt painting. Yellow cascading down their backs and an iconic arching connection made this art.

“If you’re bad, then let's make it better.” The words were pressed into her skin by his plush lips. Before pulling away, their hands found one another’s and gripped them tightly, like he was a rope and she was dangling over the ever looming pit of her past.

For the first time, she could feel a wetness pricking at her eyes. Without effort or dismay, she could cry. There were no sobs to accompany it, just silent streaming tears. She didn’t stop them for they were a gift. The damp streaks beneath each eye bent around her growing grin as she looked up at her lover through the filter of emotional release. Everything but the earthy brown around his pupils was a watery mess in her eyes. ‘God,’ she thought, ‘This- He is a good one. He is so- He is so beautiful.’

Joe could feel the pain in his chest as his heart shook, threatening to crack at the image of his love in such a fragile form. “Let’s just-” He could have claimed the rest of the sentence got stuck in his throat but the truth is there was nothing there to get stuck, nothing to follow what he’d started saying. “Is it ok if we just,” he took a deep breath, “be together? Would that- Would that help?”

“You already help. Being here helps.” Her voice was back now, though, physically, she didn’t look in any way improved.

Joe handled his girlfriend gently and urged her to the couch with him, pulling down onto his lap so they both laid on the piece of furniture long ways. Her bundled body blanketed his and he leaned back, letting her warm him. Struggling to slip off his coat as he kicked off his shoes, Joe also snaked his arm into a pocket to retrieve his phone. He pulled it out with a small noise of pride and held it out in front of him. “A little George Harrison makes everything better, right?” There was a sleepy hum of agreement and ‘My Sweet Lord’ played softly from the speaker of his device. He nestled into [Y/N]’s and closed his eyes. He held the phone in his hands, clasped together as his arms wrapped around the woman.

The ‘hallelujahs’ seemed in time with the weather outside as the couple drifted further from the present and into their own billowing comfort. The lights still were yellow outside, as they were inside, and the cars didn’t stop speeding through the puddles. Though you doubted the return of these feelings would stop, for now, you were content. Joe was there with you and it somehow, just his presence, made some of the sadness wash away. He was like a rain on your pity parade, saving you from any continued celebration of your own inabilities. Tomorrow, there might be explanations needed, but tonight you felt blessed. He was safe. He was warm. Your mind wasn’t racing and your eyes weren’t dry. This was better than anything you’d been feeling, anything swelling inside you the past few days. This wasn’t an unfamiliar experience, and you’d hoped it would never become one.

Glancing up at the man beneath you one last time, you smiled genuinely, bliss settling in your center, and you closed your eyes. George Harrison lulled you to sleep that night, and safely asleep you fell, holding tightly to Joe through it all, just as tightly as he held you.

#bohemian rhapsody #borhap #queen #bohrhap #she has a voice!!! #new blog #joe mazzello #john deacon #film #fanfic #undrafted #reader insert #mine #requests are open #joe mazzello x reader #requested #requests #fluff #sad #comfort #bad day #i projected a lot #i was feeling down too

[williamcheart]

- ̗̀ * ( bill skarsgard + cismale + he/him ) have you seen ( william ‘colt’ heart ii ) walking around campus ? they are a ( twenty-four ) year old, studying ( business + literature ). we hear they are in ( omicron tau xi ), and can be ( composed & detached ), maybe it’s because they are an ( aquarius ). they sort of remind us of ( chicken scratch handwriting, trembling hands, a coach’s whistle ), maybe we can find out more ! * ̖́- + literary magazine

u were all wondering whomstve the bill skarsgard fc reserve was . . . . it was I and i have no mcfuckin’ regrets. we love. and stan. william colton heart the second

tw. cancer, death, substance abuse, car accident, mental illness.

gen info!

full name: william colton heart ii

nickname(s): will to his family, colton/just colt to p much everybody else. his full name is reserved for family and when he’s in troubule tbh

b.o.d. - feb. 19th he an aquarius bby

label(s): the fallen, the phoenix, the crestfallen, etc. etc.

height: tall but taller than benjy tall like we’re talking a whopping 6′4″ jfc

hometown: beaufort, south carolina !!

sexuality: b...i...?

bio info!

born n raised in beaufort, south carolina--william is the eldest heart sibling

was a really quiet kid, tbh, like he minded his business and stuck close to the people he knew

always, always wanted to impress his parents, so he always studied hard for school and kind of put all his focus into it ??

it was a pressure for him, really, bc he’d always been told that he’s gonna inherit the family business like how his dad did, etc. etc.

and like...sweetie never wants to disappoint anyone, ever.

he was never considered a nerd tho?? like he’s always been freakishly tall, and his quietness sort of made him intimidating to be around b/c it always felt like he was judging u bc he’d always have to look down at u

has always been super protective over his younger siblings, feels as if it’s his duty to be the put-together brother

he’s never had to fight anybody tho, and like, thank god for that b/c he’s definitely not a fighter, considers himself to be a pacifist for the most part

bc like...he can just stare u down and ur like uuuh gtg bye !!1!111!!!

anyways, grew up riding horses, finds it v v peaceful but he stopped when they moved to california

but track has always been his kinda thing regardless of where he’s at, tried out for track his freshmen yr of high school n was the star of the team tbh

he met a gal going by the name dinah during a track meet the middle of his freshmen yr

she was taking photos for the yearbook and stuttered over her words more often than not, even when she teased william

and like...tbh? william adored her immediately

it really wasn’t soon at all until they started dating, like, they were the high school couple

they complimented each other v v well and were prolly always together lbr

i’m hc’ing that his family also adored dinah like it’s law

dinah is the one who like...really encouraged him to pursue writing as something more serious than just for fun, because will had always enjoyed writing--esp poetry--but he didn’t want it to get in the way of his future w the stables ??

and like...fuck, they were so cute, guys. they were so mf cute.

dinah got diagnosed w/ lung cancer in the beginning of their junior year; she began online school halfway thru b/c she didn’t have the energy physically to go to class, went thru a looot of chemo

william was with her the entire time, y’know, if he wasn’t in school or at track he’d probably be with her the most, trying to cheer her up in the ways he could, helped her study for their SATs bc he knew it was rly important to her

by the summer she was in remission and they thought that was it--still super fucking careful, but they really genuinely thought that that was the end of it y’know ?? that she’d just be better ??

they got into a few months of senior year with her being healthy enough to go to school again, but the further time passed...dinah relapsed, rapidly, and the cancer had spread to other parts of her body

they spent their last valentine’s day in the hospital, and the next day she was gone

it...crushed william, just kind of changed his life, y’know? dinah was all he knew and he really didn’t know how to live w/o her

spent a lot of his time locked away in his room or never even home to begin with, just wandering about hopelessly or sleeping, or trying to sleep that is

poured his heart into his poetry, though--in dinah’s honor, he tried so mf hard to keep doing what he loved even though he was so hurt

it was because of his constant hard work, and dinah’s past encouragements, that william entered and won a poetry contest during his senior year. got a hella scholarship that made everybody proud of him, just b/c he was ~defying odds~

kinda put on this mask so that others wouldn’t see how bad he was doing ?? b/c he’s the level-headed brother, y’kno, the one who always had his shit together and knew what he was doing

dinah and william won cutest couple and even prom king n queen as a sort of tribute to dinah but will didn’t even go to prom tbh he got drunk and threw cans of beer off of a cliff

anyways, he graduated high school n attended ucla bc that was his dad’s school and gdi he’s tryn his best to follow in his footsteps

even got into his dad’s frat b/c he was that determined

he didn’t rly partake much in parties but he did indulge every once in a while, y’know, just to do it, was finally getting his shit back together and doing well for once y’know?? he joined track n took it p seriously

when angela heart died, all of that fell apart again

he took an entire year off of school b/c at that point his mental health had taken a really bad turn, depression was sort of controlling his life and he was spiraling so mf far down that he sometimes couldn’t recognize himself

during that time he published his first and second poetry book under w.c. heart; it’s super morbid, depressing, you can pretty much feel his depression as it manifests in the pages. it begins with poetry from his earlier years, of when he was with dinah and then afterwards, when she dies

the second poetry book is about healing, and then how sometimes you can fall back even when you’re doing good (i.e. around the time lil baby angel died)

when he finally did go back to school he had a much better mindset, seemed to be doing well--was one of the best on the track team--partied a little harder, did drugs more often than usual but nothing too extreme y’know ??

his junior year he got into a p bad car accident n derailed into a body of water after crashing his side of the car into another and losing control of his vehicle

like honestly thank god for the stranger who immediately stopped their car and went totally-hero on the situation, they got william out of the car before he could drown and essentially saved his life, before calling 911 and just. disappearing as soon as the sirens were audible

somehow his left leg got mc’fucked in the incident and it just so happened to ruin his track career

also gave william a fear of swimming/deep water + driving. like. he never wants to be in control of a car again. it really added onto his anxiety and was probably the root of his panic disorder tbh

he took another year off of school to recover from his injuries and to just fucking...put himself in some therapy, because he knows. when it’s time to take care of himself. is really still determined to b the best, he’s just trying to take his time now.

got addicted to painkillers b/c of the injury, sought them out after his prescription ran out; it varies between oxy, vicodin, n percocets and like...they mix really badly w/ his antidepressants tbh ??

that’s v v hush-hush bc he doesn’t want people to worry about him moreso than they already do after like...all these tragic mf events y’know.

he had moved out of his greek house to live on his own but after his second time coming back to ucla he moved back in b/c that way somebody could kick his ass if he fell down the rabbit hole again y’know

his antidepressant, lexapro, causes hallucinations and now he’s been seeing dinah everywhere, hearing her voice, etc. etc. he thinks he’s finally going insane and also keeps it v hush hush b/c he doesn’t want people to think he is

he looks worse for wear but he just. keeps on pretendin’.

personality!

he’s just ... really calm tbh?

he’s always been the (or one of the) least fussy child, hated starting conflicts

if anything he’s always been a mediator ?? the peacemaker, tries to resolve things before they get outta hand

he hates fighting, physical n verbal, refuses to partake in it

even when dinah n him would get into arguments he’d be really quiet during them

that being said he wasn’t like antisocial or anything just bc he was quiet y’know ??

he was the quiet cool dude who was always popular for some fucking reason (its the height im telling u) and offered rly good advice

he’s a big fucking softie lemme tell u . . . he cries at most movies tbh

v intelligent, still carries small dumbass energy b/c he doesn’t make the best choices as u can tell

v v good at his craft, has been working on his third poetry book but has a lil bit of writer’s block atm and it’s ? torturing him tbh ?

he’s got a sense of humor but it’s like . . . kind of morbid tbh like he deals w shit via locking up his emotions and using humor as a coping mechanism

he’s a sentimental piece of shit tho we love him. he has a bottle of dinah’s favorite perfume and sprays his bed w it before he goes to sleep

that being said he really...isn’t over her, still, y’know ??

he’s 100% sure that she was his soulmate and he doesn’t think she could ever be replaced

(silly boy u cant replace people ! u just. meet people who fit u in other ways.)

hates being babied b/c he’s the oldest goddammit, that’s his job

he has a lil bit of a limp but like . . . that’s just bc his leg hurty

did i mention he’s protective bc he 100% is like listen.

he can bully his siblings. u cannot. that’s the rule sorry

even when his siblings r bullying each other he like body-flops on top of them and is p much like fucking Stop

he’s in his last yr of college but he’s doing grad school right after b/c he rly. doesn’t wanna b a partner w his dad. he doesn’t wanna own the stables or breed horses. he’s troy bolton and writing is his singing, horsebreeding is his basketball.

okay he really wants to know who tf pulled him outta the water b/c he never got to say thank u and he’s just like ?? LET ME SAY THANK U GODDAMMIT

he’s lowkey in the party scene but he’s also a bit of a wallflower when it comes to them, he prefers to drink his alcohol n watch ppl b idiots or sit on a roof high off his ass with a pal

he’ll fuck u but he wont date u but like so will most of the guys so he’s not unique he’s just a hashtag tortured artist

like it’s so hard for him to connect w others in a potentially romantic way ?? bc he just doesn’t feel anything and u cant really blame him for it tbh

has panic attacks n insomnia but u aint hear it from me

ironically........has taken up smoking cigarettes, as well.......even tho his gf died from lung cancer.......will why?

oh right bc i commanded thee

wanted connections !!

WHO PULLED HIM OUTTA THAT MF CAR CRASH ?? - i wanna know mf !!

his siblings uwu - GIVE US THE LAST HEART. PLEASE.

roommate - !! they can b chill or hate each other tbh who knows

frat bros - please.

uuuh general friends i guess ??

will they wont they - they’re rly close but will is really dumb and straight refuses to acknowledge the fact that they’d b like . . . perfect together

general unrequited things - william is emotionally unavailable, lmao, let’s see how that works w others

current hookups - he’s a bit of a slut, let’s b real. we ain’t shaming him b/c we don’t do that in 2k19 but we also speaking truths

good influences - please...help him get better

confidantes - somebody he just can fuckin complain to w/o feeling shitty or guilty for it

bad influences - make him. worse. he’s doing bad but he’s not at his worst yet.

anything. else. u want. i will do. i can do. i am god. i have ultimate power. william is my pAWN.

#uclas:intro #lmao here he is #please love him he's fragile #he's a good boy he's just a lil damaged #very damaged #but ykno...he's fine #smoking tw #uwuwuwuwu

[fartandsoul]

this would b rly cute w sonyamary: "I almost asked you to the Winter Ball in high school fifteen years ago, but chickened out, but now we’re both home for Christmas and single and maybe we’ve got a second chance?"

is kj.....answering asks again......(the answer is kind of)

~

“sofia? sofia rostova?” 

the voice sounds familiar, but in the midst of the coffee shop chatter, sonya can’t quite place it. she looks up from her coffee and tries to keep her mouth from falling open in surprise. is that...? 

“hi, i don’t know if you remember me...mary bolkonskya? we went to high school together.”

shaking her surprise away, sonya gets to her feet and hugs mary. “yeah, hi! i didn’t expect to see you here--how are you? how’s andrei?”

“he’s fine! actually, i’m here getting coffee for him before i pick him up at the airport.” mary checks her watch. “he’s home for christmas, like me. how are you?”

“i’m good, but don’t let me keep you if you have to get going,” sonya says.

“no, no, i have time. i wouldn’t have stopped otherwise.”

the silence lasts half a beat too long this time, and they both begin to speak at once. 

“it’s-”

“well-”

“sorry, go ahead.”

“i was going to say it’s great to see you again,” sonya says. “and here of all places.”

“what do you mean?” mary frowns, looking confused.

sonya realizes a second too late that there’s no good way to say i used to come here every day to study just because you used to stop in for tea sometimes and i still remember your order (medium lavender green tea, extra hot) fifteen years later. 

she adjusts her scarf while her mind flails for something to say instead. “oh, i thought you used to work here...maybe i’m remembering someone else. it’s been a while.” 

mary laughs. “that’s okay.” a shout from the barista calls her attention away. “oh, that’s andrei’s drink -- i have to go, but i hope you have a great holiday.”

“thanks,” sonya says, wishing she could disappear. “you too!”

mary leaves with a wave, and sonya sits to nurse her now-cold coffee. 

god. she’s still so pretty. she sighs, trying to go back to the article she was reading before mary showed up to derail her thoughts. but her mind won’t stop whirring, bringing up memory after memory that she hasn’t recalled in years but which now resurface easily.

***

winter ball posters blanketed the halls in blue and white. sonya tried to ignore them as she pushed through the crowds of students with her head down, but it was impossible not to think about it when a new Big Ask happened every five minutes. cheers at the end of the hall told her that another one had just said yes.  

sonya sighed. she would have just gone with nikolai as friends, but he was already going with vaska, and natasha was going with pierre, so she couldn’t tag along with them either. it was just her. no date. and no dress.

natasha had gone dress shopping a week ago and found something beautiful in minutes, of course, but sonya hadn’t tried anything on, no matter how many dresses natasha held up in front of her with a squeal of, “oh, you would look so pretty in this!”

she deposited books into her locker with a thud, but the sound of the next door locker opening sent a bolt of anxiety through her. shit. 

“hi, sonya!” it was mary. tall, willowy, beautiful as ever, and flashing that smile as she leaned over from her locker. 

sonya’s mind rocketed into orbit, unnecessarily conjuring a scene of mary in a dress, arm in arm with sonya as they stepped into the gymnasium, which was decked out for winter ball. sonya pushed the image away. mary wasn’t all that popular either, but she was far too smart for sonya.

“sonya? you okay?”

sonya blinked. “yes, fine.” her gaze flicked upwards, anywhere but mary’s face, and landed on one of the posters. “do you--i mean, are you going to winter ball?”

“i wasn’t planning to,” mary said, looking away. 

“oh.

“are you?”

“no, i wasn’t going to either,” sonya said. ask her! screamed her brain. with a deep breath, she opened her mouth again, but the bell rang and mary closed her locker.

“see you,” mary said, and walked away, head down. 

***

an hour has passed by the time sonya starts her car, and the sunset gleams behind the moscow rooftops. less than a week until christmas, and then...what? back to late nights alone with the cat and a book, back to early morning carpools to the nonprofit with pierre and natasha, back to matching her socks to her scarf every day even though nobody would know. 

not a bad life, really. she loves the last tendrils of sunrise that she gets to watch on the drive to work as she sips the hot drink natasha always presses into her hands when she slides into the back seat. and she loves the cat, no matter how much of its hair she has to brush off her uniform in the mornings.

“i just...i want somebody to know what socks i’m wearing,” sonya says to the air. somebody besides the cat who will greet her as she slides her shoes off at the end of the day. it’s a tiny thing, but it hurts sometimes. 

sonya parks and takes the stairs to her apartment. inside the door, she kicks off her shoes and stares down at her socks: black and white checks to match her black and white scarf. the cat obscures her view a moment later, winding around her shins. 

she reaches down to pet it absentmindedly, then, on impulse, pulls out her phone. it’s been fifteen years, but...

sonya (7:15 pm): hey, i know it’s been a while, but do you still have andrei’s number?

natasha (7:16 pm): yeah, of course! he was just texting pierre that he’s back in town for christmas. what do you need it for?

natasha (7:16 pm): attachment, contact card: Andrei Bolkonsky

sonya (7:18 pm): thanks!

natasha (7:19 pm): no wait you have to tell me what’s going on

sonya laughs and swipes natasha’s message away. if this works out she’ll have a lot more to talk about later. she inputs the number into her phone, types a message to andrei, and hits send. 

a quick series of texts later and she has it. the contact icon is depressingly blank, but sonya can still see mary’s smile in her mind’s eye. her thumb hovers over the keyboard, and she’s gritting her teeth in preparation to type when the phone starts ringing. an unknown number.

“hello?”

“it’s mary. andrei told me you wanted my number?”

sonya almost drops the phone. “yeah, i-uh, was just thinking i should have asked for it earlier when i saw you,” 

“i was thinking the same”

“would you-would you want to get coffee sometime? while you’re in town?”

“yeah! yeah, sure, i’d love to catch up”

sonya closes her eyes. after all, why not? why not? “yes, that would be great too, but i was thinking more of...a date.”

the silence lasts only a second, but in sonya’s mind mary takes years to respond. “i...i’d love to.”

the rest of the call is a blur. sonya hangs up minutes later with her hands shaking, the smile on her face beginning to hurt her cheeks. 

sonya (7:49 pm): tasha, i have great news

#the real question is...is kj not fucking. seasonally depressed anymore? #is it over for this year? #the answer is who knows #is this version of mary incredibly ooc for no discernable reason? #the answer is fuck yes but i'm publishing this anyway #sonyamary #tgc #tgc hc #my fic #kj speaks #fic and hcs #Anonymous

[johnnydora]

anyway have some peraltiago headcanons following the proposal im not even putting this under a read more suffer like i did (@elsaclack made me do it)

listen okay jake and amy aren’t really sure how they end up at shaw’s it’s all kind of a blur after boyle faints there’s definitely lots of making out and forehead touches while grinning at each other and crying and they probably broke like 7 laws driving to shaw’s bc jake can’t keep his eyes off of amy long enough and they show up 40 minutes late

is the rest of the squad even at shaw’s???? who knows not them they cant keep their eyes (and hands) off of each other (the rest the squad kinda migrates away after an hour anyway theres only so many times they can stomach jake and amy kissing in one night) (rosa drags charles out with her)

theyre not even like dying to have sex tho like thats not it they just cant believe its real like theres a real life honest to god ring on amy’s finger and it looks so pretty in all of the different kinds of light and she cant help but spin it around her finger (neither can jake he hasnt let go of her hand bc he loves feeling the ring press against his fingers he’s squeezing so tightly its kinda painful and sharp but it just reminds him that all of this is real) (he can’t wait to get his own ring and have it clink against hers)

its surreal that they get to do this for the rest of their lives i mean there was never any doubt that they wouldnt but now it’s official and when amy looks over at jake every other second to check that this is still happening she always catches him grinning right back at her so she leans up and kisses him bc its different now its all a part of the next stage of their lives and she can taste the happiness on his lips (its super hard to figure out how to makeout when they cant stop laughing into each others mouths)

its like theyre frozen in time honestly has there ever been anything more beautiful than amy santiago it seems largely impossible bc she only seems to get prettier with every second jake stares at her (which is every second)

its also like time is slipping away though bc there’s this incredible urgency to spend every moment like it counts like at any second someone’s going to come and rip it all away (its happened before oc and jake doesnt like the thoughts creeping up in the back of his mind bc this is their night this is the rest of their lives but he’s woken up to enough nightmares of amy falling out of his grasp) so they can’t get enough of touching each other and laughing and looking at each other and kissing this is going to be a night they remember forever

amy likes running her fingers over jake’s face and through his hair and she memorized how he feels a long time ago but she’s so restless to get down every last detail of this night the way his eyes glisten and the redness in his cheeks from laughing and smiling and kissing and how messy his hair is from her fingers pulling him in for another kiss every second she goes without him (its every second every moment she needs him more than anything) his smile is wider than she’s ever seen and she traces her fingers over his lips and ghosts her lips over his skin and pulls him in again bc even when he’s right next to her he’s too far away

it takes them an hour to even make it past her doorway bc they cant stop laughing and grinning is this real is this happening amy can hear his proposal on repeat thru her mind and she’s breathless from kissing him for every word she remembers i love you you’re beautiful you’re the best detective will you marry me and she wants to say yes over and over again yes of course how could you doubt it

jake is shell shocked and tries to take his shoes off by the door but his hands are occupied around amy’s waist and her hips her back and her hair and her face bc she will not ever slip away from him again he’s going to make sure of it there is not one moment he wants to spend without her by his side ever again

i love you has been said so many times it has lost all meaning so they say it in other ways instead and in the tone of their voices and in the softness of their eyes and in the caresses of their hands and in the reverent way they linger after every kiss with their eyes still closed because sometimes feeling are more important than tangible things anyway

it’s around 5am when they finally get a chance to breathe normally and theyre face to face safe under the covers of their own bed and they havent felt even the slightest hints of sleep but theyve felt enough love to last the rest of their lives and beyond (and its good its perfect bc they actually get to love each other for the rest of their lives god jake would scream it from the rooftops if it didnt mean unentangling himself from amy)

theyre still trailing their fingers over each other and jake can feel the chill of the ring against his skin and its driving him crazy he’ll pick up her hand every once in a while and bring it to his lips just to stop the torture (but he always lets her go again amy knows exactly what she’s doing)

they spend the rest of the night (morning? they have lost all track of time theyve lost every sense except each other) talking just talking about the night and how they feel and what theyre going to do next

amy spends about half an hour already messily planning the wedding (theres a full binder under the bed but that would require leaving jakes arms and the little kisses he keeps pressing to her chest) and her words arent rly making sense bc she’s still on adrenaline and stuttering over the waves of pleasure as jakes hands ghost up and down her sides and it’s hard to talk when smiling so wide but she lays out everything as well as she can

jake is hanging off of every word she says really truly she’s put so much thought into this and them and him and he would give her anything she asked for he’d count every star in the sky one by one (one for everything he loves about her) if it meant spending the rest of his life with her (really truly he’s not sure what he ever did to deserve the woman in his arms)

their alarms go off when theyre still faintly giggling with fatigue finally washing over them but theyre too reluctant to end the day and put it in the past and too reluctant to stop looking at each other and god really the only way they manage to fall asleep at all is with the promise that they get to spend every day like this forever until death do them apart

#my fic #???? #i guess #peraltiago #brooklyn 99 #spoilers #this isnt proofread and i dont even care #i cant see the screen thru my tears

[littlemaatta]

Lowkey - Bryan Rust x Reader

Anonymous said: Since you're taking requests, could I request a bryan rust imagine where you guys are secretly dating because you're someone on the teams sister and you don't want to tell them yet but you're all at a party and you and him are trying to be lowkey and some guy keeps hitting on you so he gets jealous and finally admits that you guys are dating and it ends really cute? Sorry this is so long! Thank you!

A/N: Oh thank you so much for this request! I LOVE Bryan Rust with all of my soul. I also picked Conor to be her brother bc I love that boy. a lot. okay well enjoy! and yes, a boy named adam has wronged me in the past which explains the boy. also damn this is rly long lol oops. 

I recommend watching this video before you read ;)

Warnings: language, drinking, creepy boy, sexual comments/innuendos, 

Word Count: ~1,500

Being the sister of Conor Sheary had it’s perks. Free tickets to games, great seats, meeting some amazing people, getting to ride in the Stanley Cup parade last year alongside your big brother. 

Not to mention that Conor is such a great brother, he is always there for you and you’ve been best friends for your entire lives. Being only a year apart in age, the two of you are very close.

But being the sister of an NHL star, also came with its downsides. The main one being that you fell for one of his teammates and were very afraid to tell your older brother.

Bryan Rust. You and Bryan started talking one night after a game. After winning, some of the guys went out for drinks and Conor brought you along. While Conor was busy dancing with his girlfriend, you were sitting next to Bryan and the two of you got to talking. 

You realized that you had a lot in common and he was just very fun to talk to. By the end of the night Conor had ditched you to go home with Jordan and Bryan offered to drive you home since your brother had been your ride. 

When he pulled up in front of your apartment building he nervously asked if he could have your number and of course you gladly gave it to him. 

From there, you two texted frequently until Bryan finally asked you on a date. 

You’ve been together ever since. The only problem with your perfect relationship is that it has to be kept secret. Both you and Bryan agree that telling Conor might not be the best idea. So you kept it hidden..

You pull up to Sidney’s house and Conor parks the car in the street. Tons of other cars are already lining the street. You climb out of the car  and cross the street to Sid’s house with Conor by your side. 

As soon as you walk in, Sid greets you and your brother with a wide grin. 

Conor disappears as you start a conversation with the captain. 

After talking to him for a minute, you ask if he has seen Bryan anywhere and he raises a brow but points you in the direction where he last saw your boyfriend. 

You thank him and walk away in the direction Sid gave you. 

You soon find Bryan, dancing with Hagelin to a Fergie song, no surprise, and you laugh as you watch them. 

He glances in your direction and winks at you and you shake your head, laughing harder. 

“G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S” Bryan and Carl use their arms to make the letters as Fergie says them. 

You grab a beer and crack it open as you continue to watch Bryan. 

“We flying the first class, up in the sky Poppin' champagne, livin' the life In the fast lane and I wont change By the Glamorous, oh the flossy flossy”

Bryan and Carl continue to dance, singing along and having almost a choreographed routine to the song. The whole thing is extremely amusing to you as you watch with your drink in your hand.

“Hey there, beautiful.” a deep voice says from beside you and you glance over, seeing a stranger and you only nod in response as you turn back to watching your boyfriend. 

The man doesn’t take the hint however, and tries to start up a conversation with you. “Name’s Adam. What’s yours?” 

“Y/N.” you answer, reluctantly. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” you cringe internally at his use of such a cliché line. 

You nod and look at him from the corner of your eye. 

“I know those guys. We’re pretty good friends.” he says, referring to Carl and Bryan in a failed attempt to impress you after noticing that you were watching them. You raise a brow, skeptical that this man you’ve never met before would know Bryan, much less be ‘pretty good friends’ with him. 

“Hm, really? So do I.” you answer, taking a sip of your drink. 

“Oh, really?” he says, seeming to regret his lie. 

“Mmhm.” you hum in response, seeing Bryan look over at you while still dancing. You share a look with him and shake your head as subtly as possible, telling him not to do anything that will reveal your secret.

The song finally ends and Bryan moves to stand next to some of the other guys and continues to watch you and the stranger. 

The man continues talking to you, not leaving you any opportunity to politely bow out of the conversation. 

“Dude, who’s that guy talking to Y/N?” Dumo asks Bryan. 

“I don’t know.” Bryan answers, his voice low. 

Finally, you are presented with an opportunity to leave the conversation when Maureen Kunitz, bless her soul, sees you struggling and walks over, starting up a conversation with you. The man stands silently for a moment as you talk to Maureen and then, realizing she isn’t leaving anytime soon, says a quick ‘See ya later, gorgeous’ with a wink and then walks away. 

“See ya later gorgeous?” Maureen repeats once he is out of earshot, doubling over in laughter. 

“When does he think he will see me?” you say, laughing with her.

You thank Maureen for saving you and then part ways, her going to find Chris and you walking over to Bryan and the other guys he is with. Hags, Cole, and Dumo greet you with smiles. 

“Who was that guy there, Y/N?” Dumo asks, raising his brows suggestively, not knowing that the other Bryan right next to him was the only guy you actually wanted to talk to. 

“No one. At all. Hope I never see him again in my life.” you respond, looking at your boyfriend briefly. 

The three men laugh and then change the topic which you are grateful for. You look at Bryan again and give him a small smile.

He returns it but it doesn’t seem whole hearted. You sigh, knowing he’s angry that he can’t publicly be your boyfriend yet. It’s something that bothers him frequently, especially when other guys flirt with you.

~~

Later, you are in the backyard, by the pool in search of your brother. Until your search is rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. ‘See ya later gorgeous’ coming up beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey gorgeous, miss me?” you sigh as the words leave his mouth and are about to put the poor boy out of his misery and attempt to let him down easily but before you can say a word, your boyfriend lets himself into the conversation.

Bryan steps up to you and pushes Adam off of you. “Get your hands off her.” Bryan snaps at the man.  

“And why would I ever do that?” Adam responds with a sly smirk. You crinkle your nose in disgust. 

Bryan grits his teeth together and steps closer to Adam and you grab his arm to stop him from hitting the guy. 

“Bry, stop. Just let it go.” you say quietly, your hands wrapped around his arm, pulling him away. 

“Oh I get it,” Adam chuckles. You continue walking away, pulling an angry Bryan along with you. “Hey, sweetheart, when you get bored with him, call me!” Adam yells from behind you. 

A low growl emits from your boyfriends throat but before he can move to punch the man, you grab his face and kiss him. Successfully distracting him and pissing off Adam enough that he finally walks away, but also very unsuccessfully keeping your relationship a secret. 

“Y/N?” you hear your brother’s voice, making you pull away from Bryan quickly. 

“Hey, Con. Um... I can explain.” you stutter, looking up at your brother nervously. 

“No need. I saw the whole thing. How long have you been dating?” Conor asks calmly, completely shocking you as you thought he would be angry with you for dating a teammate. 

“About 4 months now.” Bryan answers, rubbing the back of his neck, just as nervous as you are and still angry about the persistent guy.

“Congrats, wish you told me sooner, sis,” he says, with a large smile.

“I-I thought you’d be mad?” 

Conor chuckles, “Nah, you guys are good together. I’m happy for you.” he opens his arms for a hug and you gladly return it. 

“Thanks, Conor.” you say after pulling away. 

He nods and turns to walk away but stops and turns back around to look at Bryan. “Rusty, I like you. But if you ever hurt her..” he trails off and Bryan laughs nervously, nodding to show that he knows where the sentence was headed. 

“I would never.” he answers sincerely, making you smile. 

Conor nods, satisfied with his answer, and then walks back into the house. 

You move closer to Bryan again and take both of his hands in yours. “I’m sorry that I kept this a secret for so long. I was scared that Conor wouldn’t approve and I didn’t want to lose my brother or you.” 

“I know. But it’s out now, so it’s okay. Now I can proudly show off my beautiful girlfriend wherever I go.” you smile at that and lean into him. 

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and places a kiss on your temple, leading you back inside and heading straight for the improvised dance floor to choreograph a routine for another Fergie song; but this time, you get to help. 

#conor sheary #bryan rust #bryan rust imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #pittsburgh penguins #pittsburgh penguins imagine