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madi-writes-things · 2 months

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Nobody Pt. 1

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,009

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it definitely happens and is talked about), Blood, Violence, Hurt Comfort, Not edited, Bad stuff under the cut

A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to pop in t let you know that my DM’s are always open if you need someone to talk to. I use y writing as a safe and healthy outlets for the destructive thoughts, but reading i these sorts of things isn’t healthy for everyone… keep yourself safe.

-Madi <3

Y/N’s POV

“”“”“”“”“”

“What do you want?” I ask when I see Chris walk into my room without knocking. I didn’t mean for it to sound so rude, but it just kind of happens when i talk to him. I don’t even remember why we hate each other, and i bet he doesn’t either… its just always been like this.

“Nick was too lazy to come upstairs…” he stared at me for a second before continuing. “We’re going out to film, do you want us to get You something for dinner?”

“I’ll just text nick what I want” as he leaves i wonder if he even cares. I only live with him because Nick and Matt begged me to come to LA with them after HighSchool. Nick and i have been best friends since eighth grade when I transferred to their district, and Matt has always been nice to me… but Chris never seemed to like me, eventually i stopped going out of my way to be nice to him.

I hear the door closes, quickly followed by the sound of Matt pulling out of the driveway.

“”“”“”“”“”

How did i get here? Nick would be so mad at me… he would never say it, but i know it’s frustrating when people you care about keep making the same mistakes. I look down at my thighs, realizing that I can’t even see the individual cuts through the blood. I should have just woken Nick up, if i had I wouldn’t be in this situation.

The tears have mostly stopped flowing at this point, and the adrenaline is dying down. The weight of what I’ve done starts to set in. I need to clean this up, I need to get help, I need to get Nic-

“What the fuck” as I look up I’m met with the icy blue eyes of Chris. Before I can process what is happening he is yanking the blade out of my hand and flushing it down the toilet. “Y/N, look at me… what happened?” Seeing the panic in his eyes makes me feel bad, he was never supposed to have to deal with this.

“Can you please get the first aid kit from under my bed?” The words roll off my tongue with ease. He just stared at me with fear in his eyes. “I’ll be fine, just go” with that he turned around and went to my room.

Chris returned a few minutes later, with my large first aid kit, and a gas station bag in his hands. I had been desperately trying to clean up some of the mess with toilet paper, but I was mostly failing. “Can you please sit on the side of the bathtub?” I stared up at him in confusion. “Please Y/N… please just let me help you clean up”

“do you even know what you’re doing?” His response consisted of turning his phone to face me, an article on how to clean self harm wounds staring back at me. “Fine…” I did what he asked and positioned myself on the side of the tub.

Chris started by wiping up what I had missed from the floor, quickly moving to sit in between my legs. As he started cleaning me up, I realized how intimate our position was. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes, but I could tell that he was holding back tears. After he stopped all the bleeding, and cleaned off the wounds he just stared for a second… and it broke me.

the tears started streaming down my face again, nothing could’ve stopped them. “Don’t tell Nick… he can’t know I’m doing this again.”

He finally looked up at me, taking a breath to steady himself before speaking. “again?” I just stared. He finished up what he was doing in silence before finally speaking. “Ok… I won’t tell Nick, as long as you let me help you with this”

“I don’t need help Chris.” He didn’t respond, causing me to panic. “Fine, but nobody can know about this.” He held out his pinky, I locked mine into his… an unspoken promise between us.

Chris disposed of any evidence, before carrying me to his room. I was too tired to protest, and it’s not like anyone would be up early enough to notice. He gave me a pair of sweats, and climbed into the bed with me.

“”“”“”“”“”

I woke up to Chris laying practically on top of me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. For a moment I didn’t mind… until I saw the time.

“wake up!” I shook him lightly, his eyes flutter open before widening at the position he was currently in. “I need to get up, me and Nick are supposed to go get breakfast for a video… he can’t know that I slept in here.” Chris quickly rolled off of me, and I rushed down the stairs.

As I made my way into the living room I could see Matt and Nick, sitting in silence. They looked at me at the same time, just as Chris came down the stairs to join us.

“Why are you wearing his sweat pants?” Nick stared daggers into my soul. “They must’ve gotten mixed up in the laundry…” I hated lying to my best friend, but he couldn’t know.

“I see… what’s your fake excuse for being in his bed this morning?” I looked at Chris quickly as we walked closer to his brothers. He met my eyes, unsure of what the right decision was.

“please Chris…” I whispered. “You promised me you wouldn’t tell him.” I see Chris make a decision, and before I can stop him he opens his mouth.

“We slept together.” He looked at me, apologizing with his eyes. I look between Nick and Matt, trying to judge their reactions. While this wasn’t ideal, it was better than the truth… until I saw Nick get up.

in a matter of seconds Nick had punched Chris across the face. After flexing his hand, he looked at me with nothing but hatred before walking away.

#madi makes things #madi writes things #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt #nick sturniolo #sh!reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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zeroducks-2 · 9 months

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Let's get you out of your comfort zone with "Please, shut up" and Eobarry. :3

I was hoping/fearing you'd do this to me hahaha

30. "Please, shut up." - Barry Allen/Eobard Thawne

«I haven't come here to talk.» Barry says through a wince, trying not to grit his teeth and tense up. «Give me what I want and then I'll leave.» «And what is it that you want...?» He's being held and that's already something. But he would much rather the other speedster to just shut his mouth and do as he was asked. «Barry.» Eobard sounds like he's chiding an unruly pup. «I can't help you if you don't explain what ails you.» Sure, like the man actually wants to help him and hadn't agreed to this solely for his own satisfaction. And there's isn't much to say anyway. Barry has been suffering through painful heat flashes and there's nothing nobody can do to help; maybe Wally could but he's a little more than a child, and no, he can't think about that. Just picturing it made him slightly sick. He had thought about Clark but his alien physiology doesn't come in his favor. The man barely has any smell, less than a Beta would, and surely can't pop a knot. It's so frustrating. Going through his heat cycle alone and with his enhanced metabolism has been a challenge ever since he was struck by lightning, but this time... this time he feels ill. He doesn't know what changed, and he's tempted to blame this on the monster who keeps gloating over him like he'd just managed to push him into a corner. He kind of did, actually. It's just that Barry pushed himself into said corner. «Alright, I guess I will do my best even if you refuse to explain.» Eobard says placidly, and the trill that courses through Barry's body is so pleasant he has to sigh. He wonders why it just happened, then realizes the man placed a palm on his belly. «Look at you... I'm barely touching you, Barry. What are you going to do with my knot in you? Cry...?» «Please, shut up.» Barry closes his eyes, leaning back and allowing his weight to rest on Eobard's chest. He's already regretting this but he has no choice, if he spends another heat without an outlet he might die, he can feel his body straining even now, even if the other's smell already worked into placating his cramps and his nausea. «Just shut up and give it to me.» There's a rough but overly pleased chuckle at that, then gentle kisses on the line of his neck down to where his swollen mating gland throbs and hurts. Barry expects the contact to be painful and tenses up again, but there's just long licks of pleasure going down to his belly once the other starts sucking and nipping on it, working the upper part of his suit off of him. He squirms, suddenly self conscious of just how wet he's getting, but he's held fast and a quick scenting makes him involuntarily relax. «I am going to make you feel good.» Eobard says in a rumble which sounds so distinctively Alphan that Barry squirms again, possibly at that more than at the hand cupping his crotch. The Speedster made it sound like it was a reassurance, and in a way it is; Barry just expected not to die. Feeling pleasure was essentially an afterthought. «This is going to be good for both of us. Alright?» His chin is being held up by the other's knuckles and Barry needs to consciously ignore the rising heat flashes to muster a reply. He doesn't really manage and instead lets out a disgruntled growl before surging up for a kiss, digging his fingers into Eobard's nape and shivering hard at how scalding hot his fangs are against Barry's own tongue. He can tell that the man is surprised but he doesn't care, he just wants to be touched. «Just shut up and get to it, Thawne.»

Thank you for the prompt FTL! Here's the prompt list for whoever wants to peruse it, or send me another prompt :)

#this is the first time I write Eobarry are you happy with yourself 😆#(I mean I would be)#omegaverse #this was inspired by your fic 'Reserve' btw!#my asks #eobarry #my fanfictions #three words prompt game

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teecupangel · 2 years

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Your vamp au made me howl with laugher.

And I get a stupid idea here:

Purrrfect@always_purfect

I don't know about m＊thrfuking vampires but I think this dude really has some power. It's the FORCE！People! Sith is real！

You guys are with me? Yes? I know this is not the normal shit I do or normal fake news I enjoyed so much to tear apart while laughing like crazy.

After 6 fuxking hours video comparison with 3 more hours debates with every SW YouTubers and VTubers we can gathered at the moment.

It's goddamned real.

The vamp lover's eye color changed from honeybrown to sith gold in the 48 different videos and photos we could found.

From 32 phones, 6 photos, 5 shop cameras, 3car cameras and 2 honest to force Polaroid photos. If you have more video, send it to me！

From his ehh passioned defense of his bestfriend-it's on the Brazil national News- we can found a base color and even then they flashed gold when surrounding lights didn't change at all.

Look at these [1：27 from video2][0：43 from video8][6：05 from video39]. You can see his eye color changed to gold even in the shadows, yeah they were totally glowing The first time I thought it's reflect too. But they didn't change back to honey when he turned around to face [3：14 from video 11] and they just keep going all sith-y when he decided to make a run for it. *[Check for more traditional sith eye color and video lights detail analysis]*

How could we be so sure it's force？

Our (probably not) young Sith Lord wasn't touched by any person when he raced trough the whole mob.

Turned left at third blue guard bar 0.23s early to avoid a grab from a redhood male from behind. Keep his pace and dance though at least 5 intentionaltripping without looking at all. Dropped back 2 inches so a kid next to him didn't lost his balloon because their parents were trying too hard to get a good angle. Dogged at least 12 throwing projects. And so on. I could keep going all day about how it's impossible for human to do what he did. Our pitiful brain just do not have the processing power and spatial awareness for this.*[Check for more kinematic analysis ]*

But the truth is:

Not a single soul could touch him at all. If he's not a chairvoyance, the Force will it is the only answer.

# First real time video record of eagle vision in the human history and it's Desmond running from Leovamp fans # # Sith Lord Eyes#

@fanworldbuildingfun Okay. I did not expect a Star Wars conspiracy angle but I'm all in.

=======================

@revengeofthesithwasagoodmovie reblogs @always_purfect

#anyone who has a better explanation to why his eyes glow like that step up #it's the camera setting is not a good enough explanation and y'all know it! #da vinci vampire lover #leonardo da vinci #da vinci secret lover not-salai #wanted da vinci boy #abstergo being shady af

=======================

We've done it, guys. The Star Wars fandom has joined our search for our Da Vinci Vampire Lover. We've reached main stream. - 39 minutes ago

I thought we reached main stream when news outlets were talking about him? - 37 minutes ago

Nah. We only reach main stream when the Star Wars or Star Trek fandom joins us. - 36 minutes ago

How many days do you think before the SuperWhoLock fandom butts in? - 35 minutes ago

- 35 minutes ago

HOOOOWWW????? - 34 minutes ago

=======================

yo @iamnotmyancestor you can clear this all up, man. Just send us a video of you saying you're not a sith. We all know you're a vampire.

hi @iamnotmyancestor are you a space vampire? (asking for a friend)

hey @iamnotmyancestor where do force lightning come from?

@iamnotmyancestor i swear this isn't star wars related, i need help with my term paper? halp???

"Can everybody please stop calling Da Vinci vampire lover space vampire? We call the white dudes from Stargate space vampire and he's too hot to be one" "I think Todd is hot" "Nobody asks, @toddthespacevampirelover"

=======================

"Hey, guys... Am I a Sith?"

"No, Desmond. You're just a space vampire."

#Da Vinci's secret lover Not-Salai #ask and answer #desmond miles #all the crazy theories are popping out #and shaun keeps pinballing from having fun and wanting to strangle someone

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jenanigans1207 · 1 year

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girl that’s so messed up tht ppl are harassing you ab ur fics. i thought it was becoming common to understand tht fic writers are human beings with lives outside of their stories they create for FREE. shit happens and ppl should be grateful for what you have written. thank you for ur stories and time. theres a ton of us waiting patiently for when you have the time and energy to create. take as much time as you need. i hope life gets easier for you. id rather wait years to read another chapter than for you to feel stressed to make something you’re not happy with and for writing to become a burden rather than a fun outlet for you. keep moving forward and don’t let the negativity influence u <3 godspeed soldier

heyo anon w the long rant before this here: do u have any links where we could tip/donate to u lmao asking for a friend 👀

hope it's okay that I combined both asks into one!

First of all, thank you so much! You are so kind and this really helps me feel a lot better. I really should amend my rant to clarify that most people are being incredibly kind and understanding, just like you are. And to the people who have reached out to check in on me: thank you <3 But I've been through this in other fandoms and I guess I'm going through it in this fandom too. And maybe it's something I should just expect but it did almost get me to quit writing for the previous fandom that did this to me. Because you're totally right-- it took all the joy out of writing for me. And I had such a fear whenever I looked at a blank page about whether this update would live up to the expectation after "so long" of not updating that it paralyzed me.

That won't happen here, I promise I'll finish discriminating taste, just like I finished the fic I was just talking about. But it's just frustrating sometimes because I will sometimes have free time and the fear of it all with cause me to be unable to grab my computer and start writing. But I am very lucky to have a fic that is so well-loved and I am very thankful for the people who care enough about my fic to want more, so I don't want to complain too much. I just want everyone to trust that I won't walk out on you or leave the fic unfinished!

Anyway, that did not need to get so long and I'm sorry for dumping that on you! The short version is, thank you <3 I appreciate the kind words and the understanding and it's people like you who have made it so that I still want to finish this fic. Being cared for as me and not as the author of a fic really helps. So truly, thank you!!

As for links (omg thank you but also nobody is ever obligated)-- I had to dig this up from... i honestly don't even know when. I can't name the last time I looked at this so if you go to it and look at it, don't judge whatever you see there, haha. But I did make a ko-fi once upon a time!

Thank you again, so much, just for being so kind and caring. It really means a lot <3

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marshmallowprotection · 1 year

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Hi Kait.

It’s been a little while. I hope you’re doing well. <3

I’m always rooting for your success and happiness lol.

I feel bad and sheepish because I never wanna be that person who only ever pops by to like,,, dump a vent when I’m struggling.

I wish I had more fun or creative stuff I could share with you more often.

I think about trying to make you a gift of some sort a lot but I always chicken out. 😔

But tbh I think the reason I feel inclined to come here when I’m feeling bad is because when I am struggling,, that’s when I turn to thoughts of Saeyoung as a source of comfort. And your blog is the best outlet I’ve found to be able to express those feelings haha.

At any rate…

I wonder if you can relate to this experience…?

When I was really sick, my mental health issues actually kinda felt better…?

It’s not like they actually went away or anything.

It’s just that,,, I literally didn’t have the mental capacity to fixate on those things like I normally would. I was deadass too exhausted to indulge my anxious or depressed thoughts and let myself spiral lmao

But now that I’m slowly staring to feel better physically, those old patterns and thoughts and feelings have been creeping back in little by little too :))

(Super unfair if you ask me 🙄 bc I *am* still sick and in pain. Just slightly less so. And now I gotta deal with the mental illness on top of it all? Now my bones hurt AND my tummy hurts AND my silly little pathetic heart hurts. Homophobia at its finest, truly.)

And like… I’m trying really hard to claw my way out of this cute little pit of self-loathing I’ve found myself in.

Especially since I know now, better than ever, that it’s completely pointless…

The world’s gonna keep turning whether I hate myself or not. It’s just a matter of whether or not I’m choosing to make myself miserable in the process.

But,,, you know. It’s never that simple.

And. It’s kinda the “trying hard” that’s been making it hurt tbh.

I can’t stop thinking about the ~injustice~ of how hard Ive tried my whole life to build a future for myself where I could finally feel ~stable and happy and loved~ like I’ve been craving my whole life or whatever. But the universe just keeps saying Sike! Over and over :’)

I had to work so hard just to fuckin survive and keep myself alive my whole childhood.

I never thought I’d be able to go to college,, I didn’t even think it was on the table for me.

But I got lucky and got support and encouragement from my friends,, and somehow I managed to make it. And it meant so much to me. I felt so overjoyed and lucky to be able to be in a place where I didn’t have to worry about my safety all the time, or where I was going to sleep or get my next meal. And better yet,, somewhere where I could pursue my dreams and passions and get a little closer every day to a future I never thought I’d have. :’D

Buuuut then Covid hit, my mental health tanked, and I stopped being able to afford my tuition. And even though I was doing everything I could and DESPERATELY trying to figure things out,, it wasn’t enough. Bc nobody at the school would fuckin help me. And it was so frustrating and upsetting to know that, no matter how good of a student I was (I was a 4.0 student in STEM smh)

And no matter how genuine and passionate I was,,,

It didn’t make a difference. Because all they cared about was my money.

Like. Not to be dramatic. But that shit legit shattered my heart and crushed my soul. :’)

Even so! I told myself,,, hey. It’s okay. You can turn this around. You just have to work harder! Push yourself even further! You’re good at that. You’ve done it before. You just need to get a job and save up so you can go back.

So I got my silly lil minimum wage pet store job.

And goddammit, I was great at that too.

I was the best damn employee at my store, if not the whole company 🙄 bc I’m SMART AND PASSIONATE ABOUT LEARNING AND HELPING ANIMALS AND CREATING BETTER LIVES FOR THEM. UGH. 😤

Worked my tits off for a year and a half. Saved up as much as I could. Got over halfway to my goal that would allow me to finally move away from my home state that I’ve always hated. Go back to school. And really and truly get a shiny new ~fresh start~

But then the universe was like, HA bitch you thought!

You actually worked *too* hard this time and now your body is broken.

So… all that money you just saved up…?

POOF! That’s all going to your medical bills now.

Or at least. A tiny fraction of your medical bills :)

And now you can’t keep working to pay those bills off, or save up more money to go back to school. Because you’re too sick!

So like… good luck I guess??

And now I’m here having to deal with the fact that my friends who started school at the same time as me are graduating this semester.

And I’m just. Spending all my days alone in my room helpless and lonely and rotting :)))

It just really stinks that even though I’ve been trying so hard my whole life and putting SO MUCH of myself into literally everything I do,,, it’s never seemed to pay off.

In fact it feels like if anything, all it’s done is come back to bite me in the ass and make the failure hurt worse in the end.

🙄🙄 big “please please please let me get what I want by the smiths” moment

But anyways *ahem*

Like I said,,,,,

Whenever I get to feeling like this. I definitely always end up thinking about and coming back to Saeyoung.

Because… different life situations, obviously.

I’m glad at least I haven’t had to check “lost twin” or “being a secret agent” off my trauma bingo card yet.

But then again. I never thought I’d check off medical trauma either and look how that turned out, so who knows what the future has in store for me? 💀

At any rate,,, I know he’d be able to empathize, and understand those feelings.

More so than anyone I’ve ever met in real life, probably.

That’s definitely a huge part of why he came to mean so much to me in the first place. And why he’s the character I come back to time and time again when things start feeling really unfair.

And,, knowing just how and why he’d be able to understand and relate to those feelings is a big part of why I love him so much…

I just get so overwhelmed any time I get caught up thinking about that man’s endless capacity for goodness and love. Even through all the shit he’s been through. And how,, no matter how hurt he was, how hopeless he felt, or how much he *wanted* to give up. He never ever could. Because that’s just who he is,, if there’s even the slimmest margin of a chance that he could do something to make the world better for his loved ones, he’d drag himself there to the point of physically falling apart and not even think twice about it.

And like,,, yeah,,, it’s an issue in its own right and breaks my heart to think of how far he’d go for others while having so little regard for himself.

But also,,,,, it’s so admirable 😭 I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Saeyoung Choi is made of love.

And like,,, more than just Ye Olde “self-destruction in the name of helping his loved ones” thing,, I also get so worked up just thinkin about him being his silly dorky self,,

And again just… through everything,, even when he tried to convince himself that it was a front and he wasn’t actually like that,,, he never stopped being bright and curious and passionate,,, because that IS who he is,,, he’s a NERD and he genuinely loves learning and trying new things and having fun,,, and spreading that joy to the people around him. 🥹❤️

It just makes me wanna fuckin SMOTHER him with all of the affection and appreciation I could ever possibly muster up. And tell him over and over and over again how incredible and kind and brave and strong and special he is, and how much I love and adore him, and how lucky and proud I feel to even exist in the same universe as someone so earnestly and relentlessly Good. 🥺🥺

I would simply like to love him to death dhdjdjd

And like. I guess it’s cathartic to me to imagine being able to do that and say those things to him.

And to really just,,, bask in those overwhelming feelings of affection.

Bc I guess that’s how I wish someone would see and feel about me 😅 and that I could have someone in my life who would see how hard I try,, and be proud of me, and make me feel like I have value outside of my achievements in life (or,,, lack thereof). And like,,,, love me for all the times I kept going even when it hurt. That would be cool,,,,

Me out here since 2016 trying to fix myself by fixing Saeyoung 💀💀

Literally even now I feel better than I did when I started typing this message having thought about him and how much I love him fjfjfjf

Kuz,,, there’s the catharsis in thinking about being able to say those things that i wish I could hear myself to someone else.

But then there’s the added layer of self-indulgent catharsis of being able to be like,,,

I mean, hey, Saeyoung probably *would* see you in a similar light,,, if anyone would be able to understand and appreciate those things in me, it would be him. :’D

We are,,, the pointing Spider-Man meme,,, but make it gay dhdhdj

And that shit is,,, overwhelming to think about.

Ahh the euphoria of loving Saeyoung Choi shdhjd

And,, imagining a world where he loves me back just as much,,,

That’s nice,,, :’D

Anyways. I don’t know where I intended on going with this. I feel like I’m just awkwardly talking in circles and not making sense.

And I didn’t mean to get as vent-y as I did there.

I guess I just was all tangled up in my thoughts about all this shit and wanted to try and articulate that side of why Saeyoung means so much to me.

And to have an excuse to gush about my precious little meow meow. 🤡

As usual,,, if you’ve actually taken the time to read through this mess. Thank you haha.

Wishing you the best, always. ❤️❤️❤️

Don't worry, I get where you're coming from.

I had the same experience, similar, anyway. I thought college was the way out and went like I was "supposed" to. I suffered for a long time as a child in an abusive, impoverished environment, and there was no way out but a single door that everyone sold me. Well, as soon as the door closed on high school, my body started to give up. I dealt with a single diagnosis at first, and then, by the next time Spring Break was around, I had two more issues that would nearly cause me to lose my life.

Being on death's door after you've fought so hard to escape is a sick joke, and it's hard to put that grief into words. I'm sure you know what I mean, though. You think you're getting out and then it feels like God is laughing in your face. As if to say, "You thought you were allowed to be happy and free? Ha! Sike!" Hitting rock bottom with those types of emotions is not fun in the slightest. I still feel grief in that way when a bad day comes along. Even if you're working through your feelings, a bad flare will make you struggle.

Being Disabled and Chronically Ill means you're in a perpetual loop of "I'm okay with this" > "I hate this" > "This is okay sometimes" > "Why is it that I'm being punished" > "I can't take it anymore" > "This is... okay. I am okay".

You cycle through acceptance, anger, grief, begging, and everything that comes with loss. We don't have to be okay with our struggles, you know? It's not something people can understand unless it's their experience. Sure, if someone close to you is that sick, you might be able to understand, but not all of it. It's something that can't be put into words. Sometimes, the hardest part is trying to get someone to understand that you won't get better. You will only get worse. It's not like a broken arm.

I want you to know that I've been there. Stuck in a bedroom for years and it hurt. I lost out on experiences because I didn't have support in the way I needed. I had to become my own doctor and advocate the second I realized the healthcare system latched onto my anxiety to blame for all my problems. I haven't had health care in years because America is a piece of shit, but I don't think anyone should be forced to become more intelligent than their doctor to save their life. Then, you have to act like you know nothing because if you know too much, they think you doom scroll health conditions online.

But, that's another thing. You get used to it. You shrug. Your pain is a 7 to an average person but to you, it's a 2. You get used to it. You just learn how to adapt. You forget what not being in pain feels like. I can't remember what it felt like to not have something hurt!

Mental health and physical health are other things. When you've got to deal with both of them, it's weird. You might have a bad day with a flare but your mental health is just fine, vice versa, or the opposite of that. If you're in too much physical pain to think, you're not going to think about your depression. You just sleep. God, one thing that did happen to me was that my compulsive hand-washing started to be something I did less because I physically couldn't get out of bed at one point and I just said, "Fuck it. I can't do it. It's fine."

Still have that issue but it's not what it was. It's hard to explain how these issues clash with each other.

Haha. Anyway, I get it. I know what you mean about Saeyoung 'cause I feel the same way about Saeran. I met the RFA in 2016. I was on the door of death, not knowing what was coming next, and they saved a life that day. I don't know where I'd be without this game. Everyone in the group helped me see a chance to live.

Saeyoung was one of the first, too. I love him like a brother because I saw my sacrifices in him. I'm like him in that sense. I would throw my life on the line to see someone else happy. That's not always a good trait because you need to protect yourself, too.

You can't always give to others. Sometimes, you need to be selfish. But, having him by your side to empathize with is cathartic, you're right. He gets it. He knows what you mean and he doesn't judge.

You love him because you see yourself in him. You know he's capable of love, just like you are, and you know that he's safe. He'd know that you're safe, too. He knows you better than you know yourself, and I'd dare say it's the same way the other way around. That's why it's easy to love him. You know he'll never let go of you. You know he'll always fight for you. You want to be fought for, you want to be loved, and you want a chance to be validated the way you validate Saeyoung.

I'd say there's nothing wrong with that.

I look to Saeran because he'd get me. He's been just as sick as I've been and I wouldn't have to tell him what's wrong in detail. I could just look at him with pain in my soul, and he'd know. He'd get it and I wouldn't have to explain it. He'd just hold me... like I'd just hold him at his lowest moment. I feel like loving him makes me a better person. It reminds me that I have to try to treat myself the way I'd treat him... and the way he'd treat me. He'd want me to see something good even at the worst, and that helps me more than a lot of things.

So, I'd say, if you feel low... think about how Saeyoung would fight for you and help that inspire you to fight for yourself. Because he loves you and he always will, even if the galaxy keeps the two of you apart from one another. If you feel a flutter in your chest, it's him, calling out to your heart with a prayer you'll smile again.

And just remember, talking about your grief helps. Don't ball it up. If you have to write something down to let it out, do it. Never hesitate.

#long post #longpost #tw vent #mod kait #not mm #clownishpossum

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dazeddreamerr · 4 months

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I come on here to document my journey. I come on here and brain dump. I come on and ask for opinions and take polls because I appreciate the feedback. I come on here to get inspired or whatever. To talk to other writers hear their experiences and their story as a writer. I think writing is one of those things that it brings like minded people together who might not normally ever speak. I hear as my outlet for writing.

I share was much as I feel comfortable with sharing. And I would never ask anyone to share more than they wanted too.

I don’t want to sound like an asshole by writing this but I write for me. Whether it be my work in progress or writing here on this blog. This is my creative outlet. This is my self care. This is where I thought I would find a community of likeminded people. And I will not be made to feel like I owe someone (that I do not know) anything. That may sound harsh but it’s honest.

Up until this morning I’ve enjoyed coming here and unloading my thoughts. I liked looking through the different tags and learning new things just just about writing but in general. I will be taking a break from this app for a while. Some people are pressed about me and what I’m doing so they feel the need to be rube. It doesn’t make sense. It’s is what it is though. I can’t control how others act, I can only control how I react. And I’m not an argue over the inter type of person. I don’t have the time patients or energy. Also really confused as to why someone cares what a nobody like me is doing. Pressed is I can see.

Im going to take a break for this app.

Maybe I’ll be back or whatever :) <3

#writeblr #female writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity

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shivunin · 11 months

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Ship ask game!!

So, let's say…

3 for everyone (or the most interesting ones)

20 for Elowen

27 for Arianwen

42 and 43 for Salshira and Josie Of course pick only the ones you'd like. ✨

Hooray! Thank you so much, Arja <3

(Ship Asks)

3. What was their first impression of each other?

Wen: Oh, an ambush, cool -> what is this guy's deal why is he looking at me like that?

Zevran: Can be boiled down to "at least the person who's going to kill me is both very fast and very good with those knives" -> why is she looking at me like that what is her deal?

Maria and Fenris are here

I think most of my Lavellans thought something along the lines of, "uh-oh, he must be the military one, yikes." Definitely wary, though they each handle wariness a little differently (Salshira reacted by flirting constantly, for example). In Salshira and Cullen's soulmate AU, there's the added dimension of a sort of uncomfortable recognition without a clear origin

I think Cullen's first impression of most people is a mixture of wariness and circumstances, so I think his was generally "What can they do to fix this?" mixed with "They might have killed the Divine." (I do think there's a cut voice line from the romance where he says something about thinking they were beautiful, but I'd have to look it up).

Salshira: Thought Josie was gorgeous (Josie is very much her type), but also that if she needed anyone on her side it was going to be Josie (Leliana plainly likes her, Cullen is clearly uncomfortable with the nobility, so Josie is the linchpin)

Josie: Sympathy for her position as a Dalish elf in a very precarious position, instant recognition that the charm is a mask

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

They're both excellent listeners, but not great at expressing their frustrations aloud until they reach a breaking point. So I think they have venting sessions with each other that end with some kind of physical reassurance (a hug or kiss).

It can be effective, but learning how to handle something before it gets really bad works for both of them a lot better. At that point, they have other outlets together (sparring, chess, etc) that help them manage their emotions before they hit a wall.

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

Wen isn't big on talking, so she has a lot of ways to show Zev she loves him without saying it. She leaves him gifts fairly frequently (later, she sneaks them onto his person as a sort of game and sign of affection, like braiding gold into his hair while he's distracted in the morning). She likes to sit next to him and lean against him when she thinks he needs comfort. Later, she'll play with his hair or help him get ready for the day.

Zevran, I think, is an acts of service person (he was sort of. not given a choice in his early life, so I think some of this is environmental), so he offers things to take care of Wen. He'll give her a massage if she seems tense, steal her little cakes even if she won't admit she wants them, or write her lots of letters because he knows how much she worries when they're apart. It's not so much about what he writes, but about the fact that he makes a point of doing it often so she never has to doubt that he still cares for her.

42. What’s their relationship like with each other’s friends/families?

Josie's family adores Salshira. She makes a great first impression on Yvette, who (of course) immediately tells the rest of the siblings that the Inquisitor is sweet on their Josie. Salshira is endlessly devoted if she feels like she's welcome and wanted, so I think she makes it very easy for them to believe that she cares about Josie and wants to stick around. After the events of the game, they have a long formal courtship while Salshira is living at the family estate in Antiva, so by the time they get married nobody can imagine them doing anything but staying together as part of the Montilyet family.

But oh man. Poor Josie. I think she tries really hard, but it's very difficult to build a relationship with your partner's family when you know said family has hurt them deeply. Salshira's mom is not into the idea of her ending up with a human (in any universe) and I think that's a pretty difficult barrier to scale. Salshira's Keeper likes Josie a lot, though; I think she has an appreciation for Josie's skills at diplomacy, and once they meet she can plainly see that Josie truly cares about Salshira for who she is and not what she is.

43. If they picked out outfits for each other, what would they look like?

I think Salshira would pick something a little revealing to be cheeky, but she'd be totally unable to handle it when Josie actually wore the garment in question.

Josie would pick something in a rich color, I think, just to look at Salshira in it. She doesn't tend to wear very formal or fancy outfits, so it would be a special occasion treat to see her in something a little fancy. Maybe something like this dress from Ever After (shhh pretend it's period appropriate):

#arianwen tabris #salshira lavellan #elowen lavellan #wen who has never been flirted with before: what's this guy's deal what is his face doing #i hope this is coherent i got so so sleepy halfway through #also wen's love language is like. things a cat would do: bumps you w her head; leaves you presents in sneaky places; refuses #to make direct eye contact unless you're friendly; the claws come out if you're being threatened #i think salshira takes josie's name when they marry. because she has always wanted to belong with her family #also i love ever after so much that movie is romance to me #when she picks the man up and walks away with him??? good lord

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arnold-layne · 2 years

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I used to follow you back in, 2019? I came to check on ya, because it always stuck(sort of bugged) me how much I related to you. Wild how the first post is something wildly relatable. Hopefully, one day we’ll find a way to get the help/care we need without loosing it. I still feel like the day I let loose, I’ll never feel relief, so why impede on my life? Good to see you still write misery to outlet your own. I still read misery, so somethings stayed the same. Best wishes!- An old regular anon

Ohh hey anon! It's kinda sad that it's been 3 years at this point and nothing really changed for both of us. For a while I thought that I got better but I rolled back now, which you can see by the increasing amount of whining on my blog. And I'm sorry that you're still in the same place as me. At this point it seems to me that nobody will see how much I'm struggling unless I snap, because I've been repressing myself for so long nobody but the three people I mentioned have any clue I'm struggling at all. And asking for help before it happens is not an option because I'm so dreadfully afraid of inconveniencing anyone. So I'll just wait and see, I guess. But I hope you don't have to go this way and that you will get the help you need before something regrettable happens. And yeah, projecting my misery onto fictional characters is still my primary (and most harmless) coping mechanism and one of few things that give me joy, so I see no reason to give it up 😌 I really hope you get better darling!! I don't plan to leave this hellsite any time soon, so drop by my inbox sometimes ❤️

#i loved 2019 tumblr so much i had so many wonderful conversations there #its a desert now but sometimes someone leaves a note on some of my old posts and i scroll my blog a little to feel the bitter nostalgia #so many of my mutuals have left since its like walking around a graveyard. but sometimes a hand pops out of the ground and waves at me #and this ask is this hand #❤️❤️❤️

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thewordskeepcoming · 2 years

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I wrote an essay a couple of months ago and since then anytime I feel any strong feelings I either word vomit for extended periods of time about how I'm feeling about said thing. I wouldn't say I write anything special, but I would say that I put out a honest rendition of myself through the words I write. I hate keeping that piece of my person to myself so I need an outlet to put all of these pent up words into the world.

I asked my chem teacher to read my essay and after she finished she told me that she wishes I could put it out somewhere, even if it didn't have my name on it. I thought about it for a while and every time I thought about it I thought of putting it out on Tumblr. I'm not a very active user but since I was 10 I've been using the platform on and off so I think it's a good fit. While I would love to put my essay out there I'm not sure I'm ready to go that far but I'm ready to open up even if it's to literally nobody at this point.

Hello outlet <3

#writing snippet #intro post #online journal

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gyuphorias · 2 years

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I need your thoughts on what a fwb relationship with the Boyz would be like bc after watching the hypnotized performance it's all I can think about !!

Also you don't have to do all of them if you don't want too bc like there's a decent amount of fine ass men in that group

felt bc hypnotized is THAT bitch! and i can certainly try my best w all of them bc i'm in love w all 11 of them </3 everyone give some love to hak tho bc i feel like he gets so slept on and deserves so much more </3

sangyeon would be down. he's the leader of 10 very young, very chaotic boys and he needs an outlet for all of that frustration and energy that can't be released through dance practice and working out. a soft dom, spanks you, praises you into next year, and then gives you the best aftercare of your life </3

jacob is conflicting. he's the "angel" of the group, but i can see him getting into a fwb relationship. very sweet and caring towards you, in and out of the bedroom. just so tuned in to what you like and dislike, what you need and want. really, he knows you like the back of his hand :( loves making you cry as he splits you open on his cock. definitely one of the most likely ones to catch feelings for you.

younghoon, sweet boy that he is... he's so subby it hurts, but super versatile and ready to take on any role you want him to. also incredibly intuitive and picks up on what you want and need almost immediately. also gives amazing aftercare and is the most likely to catch feelings simply because he's so sensitive and feels so much all at once.

hyunjae absolutely would do a fwb. he's a visual and was in elle magazine for a reason. dom with soft and hard tendencies. loves making you ride him and fucking you so stupid that you can't say anything except his name and please. overstimulates you until he decides you've had enough. a menace to society.

juyeon is a soft dom king i won't accept anything else. loves bossing you around with that soft little voice of his because it makes him sound like he's asking you sweetly rather than demanding. can be mean, loves edging you and making you suck his fingers. also loves coming in you (with consent, duh) just to watch it drip out and then push it back in. runs the potential of catching feelings, but not as much as a few of the others.

kevin was the first guy in the group to have a fwb, i swear to god. soft dom through and through. loves getting you all stupid and teary eyed, cooing praises at you as he sets a slow, even pace. it almost feels like love making sometimes with the way he approaches it. takes his sweet ass time taking you apart just to put you back together in his embrace. loves hearing that nobody else fucks you as good as he does.

new is so kind and sweet to you as well. it's a fwb relationship, but he comes over for little mini dates in your apartment before he fucks you. another who is just completely in touch with your body and thoughts. does all the right things without you even needing to ask, before you even think to ask. loves hearing you get vocal and moan out his name as he fucks you into your mattress. also gives really good aftercare bc he's perfect

q is another menace. as a main dancer, a lot of responsibility falls on him and when things don't go his way during practice, pray for yourself because you're in for a ride. can get super sadistic and mean. loves spitting in your mouth. loves when he's railing you so hard from behind that your arms give out and you collapse face first into the pillows. can go for hours without losing stamina, especially when he's frustrated, but knows when to give you a break.

juhaknyeon is super sweet, but as lead dancer, he's got a lot of responsibility too. a lot like q, but he tones the hard dom aspects way down. when he's frustrated, he takes it out on you, making you cry and beg, gets way into impact play. any other time, though, he can be really loving and sweet. he asks you what you want and then delivers tenfold. no matter how things went, he does what you need to feel better. he loves the aftercare aspect.

sunwoo, no matter what anyone else says, is a hard dom. adores spitting in your mouth and fucking your face afterwards. so so so teasing it's upsetting. makes you ride him and doesn't help at all, degrading you the entire time. manhandles you, chokes you, makes you cry and laughs the whole time. he's public enemy #1.

eric fluctuates rapidly between being a loving partner and being a pussy destroyer. would eat you out for hours before fucking you into the mattress, but in the same breath will flip you over with no effort, press your face into the pillows, and fuck you so hard you lose your voice. leaves marks all over you just because he can. again, no matter how he fucked you, he always makes up for it in aftercare. also would catch feelings, i think, but can you blame him? he's just so sweet :(

#tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz headcanons #🌙 — talking to the moon #🌑 — new moon #🌑 — tbz #☄️ — hard thoughts #☄️ — tbz

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smolla-than-a-bug · 2 years

Text

core memories

sano shinichiro x reader

for @myakkun’s event !

shinichiro has a secret, and with a friendship where a childhood pact bound you to walking through all bouts of life together, will it be one he can keep from you?

navi | tokrev m.list | event m.list

content — fem!reader, fluff (shinichiro is so sappy i could cry), past! childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, non canon compliant

notes — 2.9k wc. this came so late im so sorry hjsdhjsk i missed writing for shinichiro <3

Shinichiro swore to himself he would keep it quiet. He'd zip his slender fingers across lip, lock it, and flick away the invisible key, never to look in that direction again. Ask him anything, and he knows nothing. Absolutely nobody—not a single soul—can know, or it would take a neck-breaking swing at what dignity he has left.

See, Sano Shinichiro owns a diary. He writes in this slightly aged notebook he bought some time ago but never really found any use for until now, and he’s quite proud of the number of pages, back to back, he’s been able to fill up over the years. But who even keeps a diary anymore? What teenage boy logs the exact date and time on the corner of a blank page and fills it up with his raging thoughts about happenings throughout his day, only to leave it vulnerable in his desk drawer for any creepers to snoop on? Shinichiro doesn’t know anyone who would willingly admit to owning a personal diary, and perhaps it was for the exact same reason in his mind for not telling anyone about his: To lessen the chances of curious folk to read it without his permission. God forbid his own friends and siblings—them especially—find out about it; he’s sure they wouldn’t let up until they’ve read each and every page, and what is a diary if not the biggest piece of blackmail for anyone to have against him?

What started out as an impulse decision to silently scream at inanimate objects through ink on paper quickly became a routine for Shinichiro whenever he felt he needed an outlet. At the end of the day, after putting his siblings to bed and bidding grandpa goodnight, he’d hole himself in the room, sure to click the lock and shut the lights off so his family is convinced he’s off to bed, before quietly pulling the chair at his desk. An open notebook and a pen sit in front of him, and an old desk lamp serves as the single companion to his unrestrained mind.

Despite the dust collecting in the old lamp’s crevices, the nearly rubbed-off paint of the on/off switch, and the dimming lightbulb (Shinichiro notes that he should probably replace it soon, though he knows he’ll most likely wind up pushing the task back until the bulb dies out completely.), it seemed to be a sort of guiding light for the jumbled mess that is Shinichiro’s brain. It would watch over him as he’d scribble everything that came to mind, hunched over the table, and when he was feeling lost or conflicted, a long and hard stare at the lamp would be enough for him to clear his mind and take each train of thought one section at a time.

He never felt the need to hide his chicken scratched words with his arm before he'd finish jotting down everything he needed to get out of his system, entirely comfortable expressing himself in his own space. He'd finish in the wee early hours of the morning, and he'd look at the lamp as though it had given him a smile of approval or a pat on the back. "Tomorrow again," it seemed to say, before he'd switch it off and pass out beneath the covers.

It all began on the infamous Night To Remember that every high schooler looks forward to. While everyone in his grade was probably already undergoing the traditional pre-prom photoshoot at that exact hour, courtesy of overexcited parents, Shinichiro remained seated at the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, in the middle of a serious conversation with a nick in his wall about whether or not he should still bother putting on the only nice suit he had laid out on his bed right beside him.

He'd been too late to pop the question. Someone other than himself had beaten him to the punch, and it left him questioning whether or not it was still worth it to even attend the event if he wouldn't be with you. His best friend.

His one and only.

A knock on the door interrupted the heating debate between him and his wall. "Leave now or you'll be late," came his grandpa's voice from the other side. Then, the sound of footfalls faded into silence once again.

He was right. Hours had passed and Shinichiro hadn't moved an inch from his position. The most he'd done in all that time was silently argue with his wall about why he should just hide under his blanket and watch sad romance movies whose endings make you sob into an empty tub of ice cream. The damned wall wouldn't let up though, because it brought up a very good piece of evidence that deteriorated Shinichiro's entire will to fight.

You're going, right? I can't go alone, you have to be there with me!, is what you had told him. Shinichiro reminded you that you'd be the farthest thing from alone, but you gave him a look. It's one that says 'I can't do this without you,' and he knows exactly what you meant, having expressed the same sentiment many times before but in very different context.

Your date ended up ditching you for your friend that night, which was really annoying because he saw how excited you were. He was there to see how happy you were to have experienced being asked, but your date wound up breaking your heart—you deserved better than that. He did what any rational person would do; he punched him. He punched the goddamn asshole that decided to walk over you without a second thought, knowing full well that the other guy was much bigger and much stronger than he was. Then, the present chaperones who witnessed the scene had Shinichiro escorted out.

You accompanied him, claiming you didn’t even want to be there anymore. Your night was ruined before it had even begun, but Shinichiro couldn’t let you end the night like that. Not when you were looking forward to it so much. So, he sat you on the back of his bike and drove you out to the nearest pier, where he knew there was a carnival still set up. He tried not to focus on how comfortable he felt with your arms wound around his waist. He tried not to focus on how natural it felt letting you intertwine your fingers, pulling him around the carnival to whatever attraction caught your eye.

When he got home that night, he had the most wispy smile. It didn’t dare leave his face until he flopped on his bed, still dreaming of your touch. Only when he began recounting the events of the night, reliving every single moment of it, did he become overwhelmed with emotions once again, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He shot out of bed, pacing the floor with an uncontrollable grin plastered on his face, feeling every part of himself wanting to scream, but he couldn’t wake everyone up unless he wanted to get chased out of his own home. Thus began his pre-bedtime ritual of condensing his feelings into words and preserving them within the lines of his well-loved notebook.

Now at 27 years of age, Sano Shinichiro struggles to find someplace he can keep such a cherished item. He walks around the faintly lit room looking for a potential spot, avoiding all the untouched boxes with the notebook pinned under his arm. He needs it somewhere easily accessible, somewhere not too obvious, somewhere—

He glances over at the bed, where you’re seated against the headboard, favorite book in hand. The sight makes him stop in his place. What was he trying to hide himself from this time? You’re not his grandpa, you’re not Mikey or Emma, or just anyone. You’re you—Shinichiro’s best friend, someone he believes to be his very own soulmate. (Call him childish for believing in the concept of fated love, but he takes it in stride, knowing the one for him would only ever be you.) During times like these, he’s reminded that marrying you had been the best decision he’d ever made, granted you hadn’t been married long.

The first few days of your marriage had been spent moving into your new shared home, and in the dimness of your shared bedroom, where Shinichiro had previously been looking for someplace secret to stash his old diary, he quickly realizes that his safest bet would be you. His legs carry him to the bed before he can even think about what he’s doing. Before he knows it, he’s already seated smack in the middle of the mattress, facing you with criss crossed legs.

It doesn’t take much for you to acknowledge his presence, but it does take you a moment to process his odd behavior. Your gaze flits over to him, eyes narrowing as you bookmark the last page with your finger. “What are you doing?”

Shinichiro grins. The old notebook he pulls from beneath his arm catches your attention. Its wrinkled pages and obviously worn cover make it look out of place within the newly bought furniture of your home.

“Is this the part where you tell me you’re secretly working to overthrow the government and that that notebook contains all the secrets of the president? You look very suspicious right now, I hope you know that.”

Your husband rolls his eyes, shoving you lightly. “No, idiot…” This is entirely serious. I’m about to pour my entire heart and soul out to you.

Sensing his mood, you turn to put away your book on the nightstand before crawling in front of him, mirroring the way he sits. You don’t force him to get on with it—you never do. You’ve always seemed to trust him to do things in his own time, especially when it’s something that requires a lot of courage out of him. There you sit before him, silently nodding for him to continue. To you, it’s probably just your way of encouraging him, but to him, it’s also how you say that he can trust you. He’s safe with you. A reminder of a pact you’d once committed to as kids that whatever it is, you’d get through it together. So, with his fingers reaching out to intertwine it with yours, he relishes in the familiar feeling of your hand squeezing his.

Quietly, Shinichiro asks, “Do you remember our high school prom?”

He chuckles when you grimace.

Lifting up the notebook, he shows you both sides of the cover. It’s faux leather wrapping is already peeling, and he’ll have to dust it off your covers later on. “I’ve written in this notebook for about ten years now—each entry about you.” He pauses to gauge your reaction, and he feels the tips of his ears heat up. “Earlier, I was looking for a place I could hide it, but then… it suddenly hit me. What’s the point? What good would it do me to hide all the feelings I store for you when you already know I have them? And… I know you said it was okay that I couldn’t give you a gift after our wedding, but maybe this,” he gently places the heavy notebook in your lap, “will do for now.” His clammy fingers begin fiddling with yours, all previous confidence melting away the longer you stare at it. “I know it’s not much, but I was hoping that—”

“Why?”

Shinichiro had to make sure he heard you right. “Well…” He didn’t know what to make of your reaction (or rather, the lack thereof), but when you squeeze his hand again, he looks between you and the notebook in his other hand before continuing. “I never had anyone to talk about you to. I couldn’t get through the house without Mikey saying we were gross and Emma fighting him off about it, and my friends would only ever make fun of me or stop paying attention completely,” he huffs. “I know they mean well, but I had a lot of feelings and didn’t know what to do with myself. Next thing I know, I had a full rant inscribed on a whole page.

“It started on prom night, then the day after when we made fun of your date with a bandage on his nose, then the day I confessed to you, the day I became yours and you became mine, our first anniversary… There were a lot of days when I would just randomly think about you too, and I don’t know, I always felt the need to preserve those thoughts of you so I wrote them down.” He chuckled. “Really, the only important day I’m missing is our wedding day. Since we share a home now, I haven’t had the chance to write on my own.”

You paused Shinichiro by tugging on his hand, leading him to lay on the bed with you before urging him to continue speaking.

He held you close, tucking your head under his chin. “Anyway,” he feels the weight of his notebook where your hand normally places itself on his chest when you cuddle like this. “Would you like to know what I would have written on our wedding day?” He feels you nod against him. “Okay. Dear diary,” he laughs when you snort. “Is it normal to not feel nervous at all? Most people I know get all scared about getting married, not wanting to ruin such a big day or whatever, but me? I just wanted to go home with Y/N.”

Your arms tighten around him.

“I hadn’t seen her all day. I think that might’ve been the loneliest I’ve been since she was way too busy with preparations, and her mom didn’t even let me see her in the bride’s room. Tradition or something, I don’t know.

“When I finally saw her at the end of the aisle though… God. Wow. I have no words. Just thinking about it now is like living through it all over again. I wish I could relive that feeling. After a whole day without contact, and that’s how we meet again? I immediately started sobbing, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Sure, everyone in the church laughed at me, but damn. I really didn’t care what they thought. All I could think in that moment was: How in the hell did I end up as the luckiest man in the universe?”

Staring and talking to his ceiling as though you weren’t even listening made him ramble on and on. Neither of you took note of the time. Only god knows how long you two laid there, you just listening to him talk and talk, preserving all his thoughts in your memory.

He went on about how emotional he was meeting you down the aisle. He described every feeling that washed over him as he said his vows, what he felt listening to yours. He was a whole mess in that church, and he did not shy away from detailing every little reason for it, unashamed that he’s talking about you to you. Somehow, you need to know the extent of his affections for you, and he knows his words won’t do him justice but he hopes you get the message. After the ceremony came the reception, where he was more than ecstatic to experience more firsts with you—first dance as a married couple, first meal, first drink… the list goes on. The reception was also where more tears were shed throughout heartfelt speeches from your loved ones. He wishes grandpa were there to see him; he knows he’d be proud of where he is now. He recounted every single second of the ceremony and reception with the biggest smile on his face, it was as though he could never get tired of talking.

It’s only when he feels a growing patch of wetness on his shirt that he pauses his own speech, looking down to see you attempting to muffle the sound of your sobs with a hand over your mouth. Shinichiro pulls you up with him, wrapping his long arms around you, which you return before fully letting your tears run. “I love you… so much,” you cry into him.

He kisses the top of your head once, twice, then a third time. “I love you more.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you hug him tighter, but he clicks his tongue, pulling you back to soothingly wipe away the tears from your cheeks. “You’re way too good for me.”

“And yet we married, did we not?” He raises his brow before playfully sneaking a kiss from you. “I’ve only ever wanted you, and now that I finally have you, let me prove to you that you’re worth keeping. I can keep this on forever, if you’ll have me.”

He should do this more often, Shinichiro thinks as you launch yourself to kiss him fully. It’s a different feeling than writing it down in his diary for himself to keep. Now, it’s a memory you both share—one you both will look back on later in life, and maybe one you might recount to your children, maybe even to your children’s children. He will never know for sure, but he gets the feeling that your story will be preserved within your family for a long time.

tokyo revengers taglist — @crapimahuman @eriskaitto @sunhee-sun @tallyscottage

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Note

9 Supercorp

1 new message.

The notification reads. This is odd. Nobody ever sends Kara any messages on this account, for the sole reason that it doesn't have much followers.

It was Nia's idea initially. She's told Kara to buy herself a journal. She keeps one herself, where she writes all the dreams she doesn't know how to interpret yet.

"You should write down whatever it is and let it lie there for a while you know?"

Kara thought about it, had mulled it over and over in her head. A journal is indeed a great idea. An outlet of sorts. But the thing is, a journal is too private. If Kara wrote in a journal the only person who would ever read it would be herself.

Kara didn't want that. Kara hungered for an audience. She wanted to write and put it out there, out in the world where somebody will maybe one day read it and come to her--tell her, "Me, too. Me, too."

She wanted to write and be read by people.

And so, the journal idea became the Instagram poetry account idea.

A handful of original poetry posted in between aesthetic photos.

Nia and her sister are the only two people in her life who knows about it. That's why she is genuinely shocked when she reads the notification.

By the time, she's collected enough courage to open the app.

There have been more than 10 notifications. First, was the follow, next was a series of likes and then finally the message.

Kara clicked on the profile first.

It was a bookstagram account it turns out. There was only the username display, kieran. All in lowercase. No location, no bio, no nothing. The icon was of a single, black, loopy 'K' on white parchment.

The feed was of book covers, pages, spines and some quotes here and there.

The thing that Kara noticed about it though was how sad everything looked, once she's looked at it all in one grid.

It looks beautiful but melancholy.

She opens the message.

"I don't usually do this but...I just have to tell you that, your poetry has more of an impact than you will ever know. Thank you making me feel like I'm not alone. Thank you for sharing your words."

It was signed with a single heart and a 'k'.

And that's when it hits Kara.

Kara writes out a reply.

I'm out there.

I'm out there, in the world. And somebody is reading my words. They're reading what I wrote and it made them feel something.

"Thank you for taking the time to write those kind words to me. I hope you know you've made me want to write now more than ever. Thank you."

She added a heart at the end too. Kara didn't check her phone for the rest of the day.

They didn't reply it turns out. Kara tries not to feel too disappointed at that and tries to go on with her life.

Although, two weeks later after their first interaction, Kara posts two new poems, she discovers that kieran didn't stop reading.

Kara would usually get a like or a comment of a single heart then and again, and if she's lucky they'll comment a 'Beautiful.' underneath one of Kara's longer poems.

Kara collects all those crumbs and keeps it close to her heart.

******

"had a shity day ur peom made my night. thbk you."

Kara reads the message at 7 am, it was sent at 3:36 am. It isn't till she's halfway through, that her groggy mind realizes that they must've been drunk when they sent her this.

There's a twinge of worry in her chest, so she writes.

"I'm glad I made your night. And I don't want to overstep, but I think you were drunk when you sent this. I hope you're alright today. Drink lots of water! Thank you for the kind words."

She doesn't check her phone for the rest of the day.

Kara's knee-deep in Snapper's column assignment when her phone pings.

"Don't worry, you didn't overstep. I think you're the kindest person I've ever met."

Kara can't help the feeling of concern when she reads the message. Imagine thinking an Instagram poet who you've interacted with, two times in total, is the kindest person you've ever met. Never mind the fact that she's the Instagram poet.

Kara feels intrigued by this person.

Maybe it's because they're making her feel important. Maybe it's because Kara doesn't know who they are and the mystery appeals to her. Maybe it's because with them, Kara isn't anything. She's just a poet.

Maybe it's all of those or maybe it's none of those reasons at all.

Nevertheless, Kara sees her fingers fly across the keypad before she can even realize what she's doing.

"And you, IG user kieran, I think are the most interesting person I've ever met : )"

She puts her phone facedown on her desk.

Kara stands up from her station, walks around, pokes her head into Snapper's office, asks if he needs anything, gets yelled at, bothers Nia, walks around the entire bullpen, refills her tumbler, sits back down on her desk.

1 new message.

Kara lunges for her phone.

"Interesting huh?"

Just that. Just that and nothing else, yet it makes Kara feel like she's being observed, judged, weighed.

"Your feed is beautiful, your books. What I wouldn't give to get a peek in that beautiful mind of yours."

Kara exits the app, her thumb gliding through the screen so fast, it's a miracle it didn't break under the pressure.

She stands up from her desk and does a whole 'nother round.

1 new message

Kara takes a deep breath before opening the message. She doesn't even know why she's nervous.

"my mind is a lot of things, but i doubt beautiful is one of them."

What does she mean by that? Well, Kara guesses, everyone's brain is a mess right? She's pretty certain she's fucked up herself in more ways than she even knows.

So that's what she says.

"Everybody's a mess i think. Doesn't mean they're not beautiful."

Kara waits and waits and waits.

The reply doesn't come.

*******

Life goes on, her IG account gains more followers, her poems get stacked upon each other each week.

She always notices which ones kieran likes though.

They never message each other again.

******

And then, that one fateful day comes—Kara falls in love.

She meets Lena and Kara falls.

Hard.

Lena catches her and together they write what Kara thinks, is the most beautiful love story in existence.

Lena's her soul mate, her best friend, her one true love.

Her poems become lighter, happier.

She's so caught up with living in the real world with Lena, that sometimes she doesn't even have the time to write poems anymore.

Why would she? When she's living a brand new love poem each day she wakes up to Lena by her side.

One night, Kara is putting on her pajamas, and Lena is taking a picture of some book in their bed, her hair in a bun, big nerdy glasses perched on her nose.

Kara is in the middle of climbing into bed when Lena asks her, "Hey, have you ever read poetry and felt like it was speaking to you directly. As if the poet wrote it with you in mind??"

Quietly, Kara answers, "Yeah."

Immediately, Kara's head travels through all the snippets of conversations she's had with kieran.

All her IG posts, the one account, the one thing that Lena does not know about.

"Why?" Kara follows-up.

Lena's sat, leaning into the pillows, her phone in her hand.

"There's this- you know what? Why don't I just show you? You'll get what I mean, when you read it."

Lena shows Kara her phone screen and Kara freezes.

There on the screen, is her Instagram poetry account. @kz_elwrites.

Her entire collection of verse all lit up in Lena's phone.

"I-" Kara doesn't know what to say. And Lena notices, of course, she would.

Lena always notices. ,

"Kara?" She asks. "Is there something wrong?"

"I wrote that." Kara lets the words hang in between them.

She meets Lena's eyes, reads the shock there.

Kara grabs her phone from the nightstand and opens her IG app--shows it wordlessly to Lena.

Lena takes the phone gently from her hands, flicks up and down for a couple of minutes.

Kara feels like something important is going to happen. Everything feels to quiet. Lena is too quiet.

Lena hands Kara her phone back, still not speaking.

And then, Lena turns back to her phone, swipes a couple of times.

"Come here," Lena whispers. "Take a look."

Kara's eyes land on the screen.

kieran.

"You're-"

"I am."

prompt list here

#i really liked writing this one #i like the fact that they didnt know they were already falling in love with each other even though they havent met #it's like it was deeper because they fell in love with each other's thoughts first #anyway i do have an ig account just for poetry so yep #there's still a lot of prompts and im trying to finish em but im gonna pass out soon #so im gonna write em tomorrow #if u see a typo no u didnt #the reckless writer writes #prompt fills #supercorp #supercorp fic rec #rcklss writes

1K notes · View notes

boom-bakugou · 4 years

Text

‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.

Word Count: 5k

masterlist

You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.

‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,

We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.

RSVP blah-‘

Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.

Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,

Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.

Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too

Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has

Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time

Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me

You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?

Bakugou: what do you mean?

Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own

Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra

Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is

Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?

Y/N: you mean us?

Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot

The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

Y/N: fuck it, i’m in

“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.

“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.

You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.

“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.

Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?

“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.

“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”

“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”

“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”

Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?

Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.

“Katsu?”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”

“Yeah- whatever.”

Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.

“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.

Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.

Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.

“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”

The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?

“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.

Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.

Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.

You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.

After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”

Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.

“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.

“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.

“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”

It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.

“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.

“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”

Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.

“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”

His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.

“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.

“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.

“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.

“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”

Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.

“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.

“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”

His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.

“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.

Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.

“Y/N?”

You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.

“Hey.”

“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.

“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”

You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?

“Katsu-“

“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”

It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.

It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.

Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.

“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.

Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.

All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.

Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.

Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.

“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”

“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.

His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.

“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.

“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.

Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.

“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”

An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.

“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.

Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.

Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.

“Katsu-“

“Shut up.”

Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.

“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.

“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.

“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.

The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.

Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.

“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”

“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.

“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”

“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.

“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.

“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.

Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.

“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.

“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.

“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”

Uh oh.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“

“But I am better at you at something for sure.”

Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.

“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”

Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.

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nikoruistyping · 2 years

Text

One of Us || Tony Stark

Tony Stark x Avenger!Fem!reader

Requested via DM by: @smokeywhalee

Prompt: Y/N is feeling weird because she doesn't have many fans as her fellow Avengers like Tony or Steve, but one time a kid approached Tony and asked him "Where's Miss L/N?" Also, the kid loves Y/N because of her kind persona and how humble she is and then Tony comforts the reader and tells her that she's just as awesome as he is, no matter what.

Summary: Being the newest member of the Avengers Team wasn't easy and not everyone in the world was as loving and accepting towards you which made you bummed out that you weren't getting the same attention as some of your other team mates. That all changes when Tony delivers to you a special letter from one of your biggest fans...

TW: Fluff, Sprinkle of Angst, Mention of Low Self-Esteem/Confidence, Mention of Self Rejection, Mention of Negative Media Comments, Crying (Tears of Joy & Sadness), Hugging, Playful Banter, Cheesy Pep Talks, Small Mention of Wanting to get Drunk (Just Tony Things :3)

Word Count: 2,169

A/N: I had so much fun writing this prompt! I know you said it was just for funsies but I love writing when Tony is actually showing human emotions and soft for once T_T Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!

You looked out of the window of the glamorous limousine that Tony insisted the whole Avengers team ride in just to get across the city. Your jaw almost dropped when the car had stopped in front of the Avengers Tower and the front entrance was swarming with Paparazzi, News reporters, and screaming fans. Soon the car was already being engulfed by people tapping on the windows and trying to claw their way inside the car. You weren't used to all the attention and honestly, it was just scary to you. You are rather a quiet and introverted person, someone who doesn't really need or crave the attention of the spotlight like all the celebrities on TV did. Now you had to get used to the spotlight and for some reason it just was so overwhelming, seeing tons of people wanting autographs, taking selfies, and prying into the personal lives of you and your teammates.

Sadly though you were the newest member of the Avengers and also the Avenger with the lowest ratings and number of fans, according to all of the social media and the nasty news outlets. For some reason even though you weren't always keen on the attention it still made you somewhat stupidly upset to know that not many people really liked you or cared for what you contributed to the team, it just made you seem less important which in turn also brought down your motivation and self-confidence. You didn't want to admit it but seeing so many people always wanting to grab Tony and Steve's attention made you a little bit jealous at how easy they seemed to have it.

You snapped out of your deep thoughts when you saw one of the bodyguards opening the door of the limo and you took a careful step out of the car and looked around at the swarm of people surrounding you. The crowd almost went quiet when they saw you exit, you even heard a few "boo's" in the crowd which was definitely very reassuring and knocking down yet another notch in your self-esteem meter. You quickly followed the bodyguard as he cleared a path for you and the rest of the team, nobody looking your way or really paying attention as the rest of the crowd started to roar for the rest of the members. You looked over your shoulder and saw Tony speaking to a little boy and the small gesture made you smile but you quickly turned around and headed inside the building. You bolted to the stairs and ran up them so that you could be the first one to get to the commons room and have some time alone since you were feeling down and just wanted a moment of silence away from everyone.

Meanwhile...

There was a sea of people crowding around Tony along with everyone else on the team and by now he was used to all the attention and if anything his inner diva loved all of the screaming fans. He waved to everyone and blew kisses to the cameras as he tried navigating his way through the crowd as Happy was well happily plowing people down in front of him so that Tony could have a clear path inside the Tower. Through his red-tinted sunglasses, he caught glimpse of a little kid holding an envelope, his hand trying to grab Tony's attention by waving him down and it certainly worked as he kneeled down to the small kid's level and smiled at him.

"Hey, kiddo! It looks like someone wants my autograph, am I right?" He asked enthusiastically towards the child and he nodded his head no and Tony furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark but no, I really wanted to meet Miss Y/N, where is she? I wanna give her this letter! She is the coolest Avenger ever and super nice too!" The little kid's voice was excited but as he poked his head around trying to find you in the crowd he lost hope. Tony noticed the kid's expression and had an idea pop into his head.

"Oh, so you're looking for Miss Y/N? I don't think she is around right now," He explains as his head turns to look on either side of him and he doesn't see you insight.

"Well hey, how about this kid, I'll make sure that your letter gets delivered to her. How does that sound?" He said while the kid nodded his head frantically and smiled so wide.

"That would be awesome! You're pretty cool too Mr. Stark!" The kid said and Tony just grinned and quickly gave the kid a hug before getting back up and tucking the envelope into his jacket pocket before entering the building and heading upstairs with the rest of the team.

While you waited for the rest of the Avengers to come upstairs and join you, yet again you got stuck into the loop, becoming lost in your phone as you looked at all the comments on social media and how nobody seemed to talk about you or what contributions you even made to the team, it's like as if you weren't even there. You pouted and angrily scrolled through your feed and got lost in the deep dark depths of your explore page that was randomly suggesting some of the weirdest content for you to consume.

You were interrupted from the trance your phone had put you in and your head turned when you heard the rest of the Avengers all laughing and having a good time while they barged into the commons room and all took seats on the sofas. Steve looked exhausted but happy that he could be of service to the country. Natasha was worn out and plopped onto the sofa with a groan and you knew she definitely wasn't leaving that spot on the sofa for a good five hours maybe even more. Bruce had quickly dismissed himself so that he could go on his merry way to the lab and work on some unfinished "top secret" Avengers projects while Thor seemed to already be grabbing at the bottle of Asgardian liquor that he apparently carried with him everywhere and he started to chug it quickly. The very last person coming into your field of view was none other than Tony, he walked in nonchalant like he always does, like he owns the place, he did actually own the Avengers towers so obviously that made sense but anyways you watched him take a seat next to you on the sofa and you raised an eyebrow surprised he picked this spot out of all the other available ones.

"What do you want Stark?" You questioned under your breath with a slight attitude lingering in your voice.

"Why does everyone assume I always want something? Can I not just sit here in peace?" He questioned right back at you and you rolled your eyes, putting your phone down to give it a break.

"Because usually you always want something."

"Well this time I actually have something for you, I'm being a giver, not a taker this time." He says with a scoff and he sifts through his jacket and hands you a white envelope, you take it with caution and you read the front of it that had your name plastered on it.

"What the heck is this?" You used the edge of your nail to rip open the envelope, a handwritten letter was inside, the more you unfolded the paper it revealed a crayon drawing of you and some sloppy writing also in crayon at the bottom.

You were completely moved, enough to shed a tear, and before you knew it you were smiling and also crying like an idiot at something so simple as a drawing from a little kid but it brought so much joy to your heart that you couldn't help but get emotional about it. You quickly tried wiping the tears with the back of your wrist, patting them away with the end of your sweater. You looked up at Tony and he was peering from behind his sunglasses with a confused look that you were crying, he was in disbelief that one fan letter was making you this emotional.

"Y/N, are you really crying right now? It's just a fan letter you don't have to get so worked up about it, I get tons of fan letters all the time-" He retorted but you just protested back.

"You wouldn't understand Tony, at least people actually like Ironman...nobody likes me at all." You trailed off while you held the letter in your hands and held it close to your heart, cherishing how sweet the gesture was from this one kid.

"Oh come on now, that's not true at all. We all love you just like family, why would you ever think that?" He flicked off his sunglasses and looked at you more clearly leaning in closer.

"Don't act like you haven't already read the news articles and seen the posts on social media! Nobody ever talks about me being the newest Avenger and nobody ever gets excited to see me...I'm just not worth it...I guess." You say with a shrug of your shoulders and you felt Tony's hand grab your shoulder to make sure you were facing him and listening directly to him.

"Don't say that Y/N, you are a part of this team just like every one of us and you are worth it. You shouldn't let a few negative headlines get you down," He took a deep breath and continued to lecture on as you frantically wiped tears streaming down your face.

"You didn't see what I saw down there, when I looked at that kid he was so excited to see and meet you in person and I'm sure there are many more like him who wanna see just how amazing you truly are." He paused and took his index finger and placed it under your chin to lift up your head from all the sulking you were doing.

"You're one of us." His tone was serious yet oddly comforting and much to your surprise you were immediately being pulled into a hug and you felt his arms wrap around you and squeeze tightly.

You rested your head on top of his shoulder, you had never expected Tony of all people to be the one giving you a comforting pep talk but here he was hugging you and telling you so many positive affirmations that you desperately needed to hear right now. Your hands clutched his back while your tears were being wiped on his expensive suit.

"Thank you...Tony." You whispered to him and as you pulled away to look at him he gave you a smile and you couldn't help but do the same, it was the first time he had actually shown you some shed of emotion rather than just pure sarcasm.

"Just between you and me, I think you're a close second best when it comes to being the strongest Avenger." His smile was so sincere and you just chuckled along as you felt his hand hold yours which in some weird way helped you calm down and feel grounded.

"You really think so?" You questioned playfully, raising an eyebrow at him, your lips curved up into a smirk.

"If you tell anyone I said that I won't hesitate to blast you into existence." He tried to sound menacing and spooky almost but you couldn't take him seriously with that tone of voice, your hand slapping his forearm playfully.

"Fine I won't tell a soul you can relax Stark, just between you and me," You motioned with your hand to your lips as if zipping them shut.

"Thanks for bringing me this letter, it made my day seeing it." You admitted looking over to the letter once more and smiling.

"It's no problem, that's what teammates are for. We lift each other up when one is down."

"Since when did you all of a sudden become a motivational speaker?" You questioned trying to hide your chuckle as you often joked with him constantly.

"Don't make me regret being nice to you Y/N." He put on his sunglasses once again and pointed towards you, getting up off the sofa, his steps leading him in the direction of the bar.

“Wait! Who is the strongest Avenger then?!” You realized as his comment earlier was finally starting to settle in.

"No comment! I'm gonna need a drink or multiple after all that!" He exclaimed, ignoring your question or more so not wanting to answer it while he waved you off.

You just smiled back at the letter thinking about how you were going to make it a little bit of a mini-mission to find whoever this kid was and personally thank him for how much joy his letter had brought you. Although first, you would need to deal with a very intoxicated Tony who even though he had a heart of gold, his attempts at masking the fact that maybe he really did care about you were slowly starting to fall the more you got to know the real Tony Stark.

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theeslytherinslut · 3 years

Text

The Perpetual Freak (1/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader

Warnings: Mention of bullying,

Word Count: 2,063

The Beginning

“Twitch,

Just 4 days now--like I need to tell you, likely been counting down the days all bloody Holiday, haven’t you? We’ll be there Sept 1st at 10 on the dot, we should make it to King’s Cross by 11 that way. Be ready this time, won’t you? I think Padfoot just might actually hex your grandmother if he has to make small talk with her again, but can you blame him? Anyway, we’ll be there at 10. Don’t forget Jinx this time. I don’t fancy being attacked once he breaks out of your grandmother’s house.

P.S Sirius said he’ll be on his best behavior--does that make you nervous too?

See you soon,

Prongs (& Padfoot)

The letter lay in the same spot on your cracked cherrywood desk since you received it. Though short and to the point, you’d reread it many times, hoping somehow the more you read it, the faster the day would come.

Holidays were hell. Being a muggle-born, there was always a bit of an adjustment period after coming home from Hogwarts for a break--an adjustment period usually aided by parents and family--however, this could not have been further from the truth for you.

“Y/N!” As if on cue, your Grandmother's angry call shot up the stairs. Cringing, you held your breath as you walked down the stairs into the kitchen. She stood with her blue gingham apron covered in flour, as well as most of the floor and countertop.

“If this bloody bird scratches my window one-more-time,” she said the words through clenched teeth, glaring at you from across the room. Her stacked icy grey curls bobbled on her head as she shouted, her fist pressed against her hip. “I’ll have to drown it in the creek.”

Your Snowy Owl, Jinx, sat outside the baby-blue curtained window, his big orange eyes peering at you innocently through the glass.

Piecing together the situation, you’d guessed Jinx had arrived suddenly during your grandmother’s baking and had startled her, causing her to spill much of the contents of her bowl.

Suppressing a smile at the mess, you walked over to the window and opened it. Jinx’s peppered wings stretched out briefly before you felt his talons brush against your collarbone, and he perched onto your shoulder.

“Sorry, Grandmother,” you mumbled, catching your cousin smirking at you. A blush of anger lit up your face, and you made to disappear back into your room before anything got ugly; you’d gone all Holiday without a vicious row, and you weren’t about to start one just before you walked out the door.

“When does that school of yours start again, anyway? Aren’t you normally gone by now? Blakely’s school has already started, he’s been working so hard,” she doted, smoothing his hair as he ate his cereal, milk dribbling from his lips and onto the table. “We could all use a little peace and quiet around here, frankly.” she sniffed.

Jinx gave an annoyed hoot and ruffled his feathers unpleasantly as your grandmother glared at him from across the room.

“Train leaves September 1st at 11am like it always does. I’ll be leaving within the hour,” you said, struggling to control your voice.

“Train? There are enough of you--you, people, for an entire train?” Blakely said, dropping his spoon in his bowl, splattering more milk onto the table, evidently thoroughly shocked.

“Yes, oddly enough, it seems I’m not the only freak in England,” you said, using the word he often threw at you.

“Maybe not the only one, but definitely the biggest,” he said quietly, glaring up at you from his cereal. Grandmother, however, pretended as though she didn’t hear, merely clanged dishes loudly together as she turned back towards the sink.

“One day, I’ll hex you so terribly you’ll be lucky if someone calls you something so kind as freak,” you pushed the thought into his head and promptly stormed out of the kitchen, though savoring the terrified shock on his face.

“She-she did it again!” Blakely called, color draining his face. But you were already halfway up the staircase with Jinx balancing on your shoulder before her angry screech reached you.

You’d almost always been an utter freak in their eyes, and it all started when you were only a baby.

Your mother died while giving birth to you, and your father was never in the picture, so there was no one but your Grandmother to take you in; no one but you to blame for it all. You were, after all, the product of your mother’s insolence--having fallen pregnant at 15 by a man whom she’d never spoken of. And further, you were the reason she’d died; she wouldn’t have bled out if you hadn’t been conceived. To your Grandmother, it was as if you were the cause of every problem she had in life, a walking reminder of where it all went wrong--and she made sure you knew it.

Terrible as things already were, nothing was to be helped by the events that were to unfold. As the story had been told to you, you were a little over a year old, crying incessantly in your crib. You’d evidently been exceptionally whiny that day, crying non-stop, refusing to be consoled, and just when she’d for the first time seriously considered doing you in, you stopped. Relieved yet confused, your grandmother had come in to check on you.

“I’m hungry.”

She had heard the words clear as day, in a voice she didn’t recognize, but the words sounded funny. The voice almost echoed, somehow managing to sound crystal clear but miles away at the same time. Sure she was simply going mad from a lack of sleep, she stood rooted to her spot in shock.

“Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.”

Seeing your bright Y/E/C eyes boring up into hers, she let out an ear-splitting scream when you grinned as recognition dawned on her face.

Obviously, no Muggle doctor could give any sort of explanation or help. At most, they’d give one of the two of you some kind of a crazy pill and a suggestion of seeing a family counselor.

Soon after, tragedy struck your grandmother’s side once more, and you were landed with a cousin, Blakely. Blakely, however, seemed to adopt a mindset closer to your grandmother’s about it all and would no sooner take a shine to you than get friendly with the rabies-infected alley cat.

But as the years went on, things began to get even stranger.

At the age of 3, your wailing cries caused all the lightbulbs around you to pop inexplicably (costing your grandmother a fortune, as she so loved to remind you).

At 5, you’d managed to levitate a ball Blakely was taunting you with out of his hands and into yours.

However, at age 9 is when it became harder to keep a secret; at age 9 is when your grandmother began truly resenting you.

Being a self-ascribed ‘freak,’ bullying was something you were no stranger to. A comment here, a hair tug there. However, this had been a particularly extreme case. Kylie Kippely and her best friends had backed you into a corner, each shooting off snarky comments at your scared state, and when that wasn’t enough, they began throwing things--anything they could get their hands on--cans, papers, pencils, erasers. All the while yelling how everyone would be much better off without such a freak in their midst, about how all their parents were scared to even send them to school anymore after your last incident.

Then, they began running out of rubbish and started picking up rocks instead. Before a single rock could leave their hands, however, the mulch around you began to shake, then chips slowly started rising into the air behind them. As your face went from scared to full of awe, they turned around to see what you were looking at and simultaneously dropped everything in their hands. The mulch then began pelting at all of them, causing everyone around you to scream and disperse, all batting away the pieces of mulch pelting at their running backsides.

Grandmother had pulled you out of the school before you could receive any other punishment, and from that moment on, you’d been stuck in the house with her.

With no outlet, with nothing but growing rage and resentment inside of you, things began to spiral even worse.

Just when Grandmother began researching distant reform schools, however, you received your Hogwarts letter, and everything made sense.

All the strange things you could do, all the bizarre things you made happen, had an explanation. Sure the explanation was that you were, in fact, a freak--but you weren’t the only freak. There was a whole school’s worth of freaks just like you--well, almost just like you.

Though paper cranes soared around you and magic burst from the tip of hundreds of wands, through your time at Hogwarts, you found you did have one unique gift: it was evidently called Telepathic Impression, a branch of complex magic known as Legillimens--no one else could push thoughts into other people’s heads like you could, not naturally anyway. Nobody could ask a question silently and have the Professor answer for all to hear. After you’d interjected into McGonagall’s head during your first Transfiguration class, she’d had you go straight off to Dumbledore’s office. After a brief discussion, it was found you possessed natural Legilimency skills--something that had only been seen once before. He’d been absolutely transfixed when you told him the first instance had been at the ripe age of 1, in fluent advanced English no less.

You smiled fondly at the memory of his laugh of delight as you’d repeated, ‘Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.'

Never before had you told that story in any sort of positive light, never got a positive reaction either. Dumbledore had been absolutely enthralled with you from then on.

He had carefully explained the practice of Legilimency, how the mind was a layered thing and could not be ‘read’ simply, like a book. He’d explained how everyone learned it to some advantage of theirs, how no two Legilimens were the same.

After several years of private lessons, it seemed all you’d ever be able to do with your gift was push thoughts, images, and sounds of your own into other’s minds--but this was an incredible feat in itself, a private gift of yours. However, just the year before, it was found that with effort, you could twist the thought to become persuasive, convince the person the thought was their own, and to complete the idea you’d given them. During the first lesson which you found you could do so, you’d been practicing with Dumbledore. Though he was giving no effort at all to resist, you’d silently suggested his tea was abysmal and that he knock it off his desk in disgust. With a twitch of his wrist, the cup shattered onto the floor, shocking you both into silence. It was after this Dumbledore had insisted you promise to never use it for evil, never ever use it with ill intentions--for as a Legilimens himself, he would know. You quickly agreed, of course; you’d never once had the thought to use it with ill motives--aside from maybe having Blakely go for a nice long dip in the creek in the dead of January, but that was a fantasy you kept for yourself to get you through Holidays like these.

Shaking your head of past childhood memories, you turned to your trunk to make sure you did indeed have everything all packed up and ready. You didn’t want to stay a second longer than necessary.

Spotting your cloaks pushed into the depths of your closet, you plucked them from the dark and folded them into your trunk. It wasn’t a moment too soon either, because right as you closed the lid, you heard the boisterous arrival of your best friends as they pulled in the winding driveway driving the enchanted car James’ parents had lent him. You heard an enthusiastic barking whoop and smiled as Sirius’ bright eyes and smile filled your mind.

Your stomach bubbling with excitement, you hastily put Jinx in his cage as he looked around in interest. Picking up his cage, you bounded down the stairs to meet them.

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