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violetsiren90 · 13 days

Text

The Light of Your Eyes

Pairing: best friend's younger brother!Changbin x f!Reader

Genre: one-shot; friends to lovers; smut and fluff; hurt/comfort

Summary: Can the gentle touch of an unexpected pair of hands on your body heal the wounds of your soul?

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, dni), age gap romance (consenting adults); mentions of break-up and unhealthy past relationship dynamics; depression and anxiety symptoms (mild); MC has self esteem struggles, some are body-image related; the ex was low-key emotionally abusive tbh 😒; depictions of alcohol consumption (no drunkenness); depictions of food and eating (MC has a moment of negative thought patterns in regards to food consumption); gaming/watching movies; emotional breakdowns; kissing (so much kissing, guys); Fluffy fluffy FLUFF 💕; making out; interrupted shenanigans; cuddling; shirtless Binnie 👀; strong and gentle Binnie 🥺💘 ; working through FEELINGS 😅 ; breast play; nudity; oral sex (f. receiving); feedbag position; confessions and new beginnings.

Word Count: ~9300

Author's Note: Well, here it is - my first Binnie fic! I wanted to make it as sweet and sexy as he is...which, I know, is impossible, so I gave it my best shot! Hopefully, it's something worthy of his face-claim. I'm not going to make any judgements as to whether I feel it fits the bill, but rather like the man himself, tell you to be the judge of your own opinions! Jutdae!! 😂💗 But in all seriousness, if you decide to read this story, thank you! I hope it brings you something warm and fuzzy!

*The poem at the beginning is an original, and is what inspired this story!

Acknowledgements: I cannot thank @moni-logues enough for beta reading this for me, and for all her hype and humor and general human decency - this story wouldn't be what it is without her! 💖

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

the

Bright color of my laughter and the

Melody of the curve of my hips and the

Soft velvet of my irises

seemed

To have taken their first breath,

Opening gently - like flowers perfuming my soul

- When bathed in the light of your eyes.

"Changbin? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he says with a little smirk, whipping a dish towel over his shoulder as he shuffles back to let you in.

Fair enough, you suppose. You are showing up without notice. Not that you ever need to give his sister any notice - as your best friend, there's a key with all the others in your purse that unlocks the door you're closing behind you. You wouldn't have even knocked had his car not been parked in the driveway.

"Where's Nari?" you ask, glancing at the gaming console hooked up to the massive flat-screen, and a bullet blender cup half filled with something thick, pale and probably protein-packed sitting on the coffee table.

"She went out of town for the weekend," he calls, heading back toward the dining area. "Last minute work thing."

Damn.

Your apartment is boring and barren and lonely. You wanted to hang out. You've been coming around more than usual – almost as often as when you were in grad school together. But Nari had her own life, you understood. You had your own life too.

And then three months ago, on New Years Eve, your long-term boyfriend called it quits. It wasn't as if you were heartbroken. Not really. The relationship had been sick and slowly dying. But returning to a life lived in solitude was proving a difficult adjustment – especially navigating the new and constant stillness which left you the mental space and dexterity to run up against the shadows of wounds unhealed. And you didn't feel like growing into your EQ. You felt like distracting yourself. So you ended up at your bestie's place more often than not, these days.

You sigh, trailing toward the kitchen. You won't stay long - if her younger brother is house sitting, he'll probably have people coming over. It's Friday night, after all, and he's twenty-four years young.

The sound of running water, and music from a little speaker playing a catchy beat laced with fast-paced rap draws you into the warmly-lit, open kitchen. You recognize the voice on the track.

"This new?" you ask, dropping your bag on a barstool and rounding the island to where Changbin is up to his elbows in suds at the sink. He's in a black band tee and bright blue joggers, his curly dark hair unstyled.

He looks over his shoulder and nods.

"What do you think? Wait, no, lemme start it over..."

You smile to yourself as he hastily dries his hands and whips out his phone, pulling the track back to the beginning. He braces himself against the edge of the sink, gnawing on his bottom lip as he bobs his head with the lyrical punches and runs.

You smile to yourself, leaning your back against the counter beside him.

"This is good, Bin," you nod earnestly.

"Yeah?" he asks, returning to his soapy task.

"It really is. Hyunjin's pretty damn fast. Not as fast as you, but who is?"

You grin, bumping your hip into his side.

He smirks down into the bubbles.

He's wanted to make music for as long as you've known him, and even fifteen years ago he could spit out a diss track that would have you wetting yourself laughing. He and his buddy, Hyunjin, met in high school and started messing around with music senior year. They committed to the dream, and both worked full-time gigs - Hyunjin as a tattoo artist and Changbin as a personal trainer - while promoting their artistry in their spare time. Production was a tough road to take when they were counting on nothing but raw talent and guts, but you'd always been an unflinching supporter.

"We've got a gig next Saturday...at The Eight Ball," he remarks, looking over at you as a proud smile presses a tiny dimple into his bread cheek.

"What?!" you squeal, turning to smack him on the arm. "Dude, that's fantastic! Oh my god, congratulations!"

"Thanks, and ouch!" he replies, rubbing his arm with a pout that you ignore. It couldn't possibly have hurt him, not with those biceps.

He moves to the fridge, a grin still plastered on his face.

"You should come!" he urges over his shoulder as he appraises his sister's stash before grabbing an energy drink. "I know the boyfriend isn't into rap, but you could come with Nari..."

You scoff softly.

"Doesn't really matter what he likes anymore," you mumble bitterly.

Changbin freezes as he's about to crack open the beverage in his hand.

"Wait, what? Did you guys...is that over?"

You purse your lips and nod. Changbin looks completely taken off guard in a way that surprises you.

“When did that happen?”

You reach back to clutch at the cold tile of the countertop.

“Beginning of the year.”

He scratches his head.

“Nari didn’t…why didn’t you say something?”

You shrug, your eyes falling. For reasons you'd never considered, you’d rarely brought your ex around or even brought him up to Changbin.

He turns to the still open fridge and swaps out his energy drink for two beers, opening both and sliding one across the island between you.

"How you holding up?" he asks in earnest concern, a little furrow appearing between his dark brows.

You want to tell him that you're fine - it's what you've been telling everyone else - but from the way he holds your gaze before letting his eyes search your face, he's looking for a real answer. You pull your lip between your teeth. You're not ready to form the words that spell the truth. He sees it.

"Ah," he waves dismissively, "Fuck that guy. You're too good for him anyway. What an idiot."

You blink, a little smirk tugging at your lips.

"You don't have to hate on him just because we're-"

"I'm hating on him because I hate him," he stares at you unflinchingly, taking another swig of his beer. "He wasn't good to you, didn't make you happy. I'm glad he's gone. Seriously, fuck him."

You didn't expect that sort of reaction out of Changbin. Not that you expected anything, but the strong, certain tone he took in regards to your ex's unworthiness has a tiny little warmth glowing in your chest. It was like him to feel strongly and take a stand, but to have his conviction aimed at you...

"Thanks, Bin," you murmur softly, hiding your smile behind your beer.

The young man nods, and his lips part as if to speak when his phone buzzes in his pocket. As he answers the call - clearly, from the nature of his greeting, one of his buddies - you're reminded that you’re trespassing on his Friday night. Draining your beer, you grab your bag and slip out of the kitchen.

You huff a little sigh as you pull on your shoes, lingering listlessly for a moment before pulling open the door. The thought of going home has your stomach churning. You can't go back and be alone there.

You can't.

You have to.

How pathetic could you possibly get? you consider sickly, staring out into the darkness. Your self-loathing and mounting anxiety battle for dominance as you will yourself to take the step over the threshold that will carry you to your car…

Click.

The door swishes shut, and you blink in confusion before you note a bulky arm stretched over your shoulder, hand pressed to the wooden frame below the peephole.

You turn into Changbin's frame and he jostles backwards, hand dropping to your shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks, a little smirk playing on his lips.

You try to get your bearings as you resurface from the flash flood of inner turmoil, blinking up at him in confusion.

"Uuhh...home?" you answer, jerking a thumb back toward your intended exit.

Changbin shakes his head.

"You just got here."

"Well...I came to see Nari but she's gone, so..."

When the faintest shadow of hurt seems to flicker over his features at your words, you stammer to clarify.

"Bin, it's Friday, I- you've got plans, right? I don't want to be in the way...Like, it's really nice seeing you don't get me wrong, but, it would suck to have one of your sister's random friends underfoot if you're...if..."

You trail off. He's watching you in amusement now, arms crossed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth, one eyebrow cocked just a little higher than the other.

"What?" you press him, now a bit self-conscious at your rambling and still on edge from the surging anxiety of moments ago.

Damn, what was with you? You'd been a mess lately, and now you couldn't even get your words out with Nari's kid brother?

"I do have plans."

Changbin's words interrupt your muddled self-assessment. You glance up at him.

What? Okay, that's what you had been trying to...

"I plan to kick your ass at Super Smash Bros Brawl," he quips, turning to round the couch and settle in front of it before reaching for the blue controller discarded on the coffee table.

Huh?

You watch him start up the game and move through selections. Shuffling toward the back of the couch, you place your hands on it. He wants to hang out? Now that he found out you'd been dumped. Nari's away, so he's falling into stride, you think to yourself. You sigh. You should be grateful. Instead, you feel like a burden.

"Um, Bin..." you murmur, "You don't have to do this..."

"Do what?" he asks without looking back. "I'm not going easy on you, if that's what you mean. And I'm using Kirby - nonnegotiable."

Your heart melts a little as your eyes rest on him. He's always been a good guy, and it was like him to do this sort of thing - look out for someone when they were feeling low. Leaving simply because you don't feel worthy of his care and attention risks hurting him more than you.

You slowly slip out of your shoes and cross into the living room, retrieving a red controller from atop the console before sinking onto the carpet beside him. You toggle through your choices before landing on Link. Changbin glances over at you disparagingly.

"Link sucks."

"Kirby sucks."

"Hey!" Changbin, practically shouts in your ear, "Don't insult my widdle cutie guy..."

You grimace theatrically at the baby talk.

"Don't ever do that again."

"Or what?" Changbin challenges as he immediately unleashes a combo move that has your character hurtling toward the edge of the battle stage.

You hop around, avoiding him and trying out different button combos. It's been forever since you played this game. Your ex had been a Halo enthusiast. You were never big on first person shooters, but you tried to get into it for his sake. He hadn't the patience to help you learn, though, and after a couple of sessions of grimaces and apologies on your behalf mumbled into his headset, he'd stopped taking you up on your offers to join him.

Kirby darts back and forth across the screen after you on stubby pink legs. Eventually you get the hang of things and are returning his attacks, though he easily bests you in an embarrassingly short sequence of moves.

"Sorry, I'm no good at video games," you mumble apologetically.

The smug look falls from Changbin's face.

"Why are you sorry?" he raises a brow, dropping his controller into his lap, a little smile still playing on his lips.

You shrug. His smile fades.

"Who says you're no good?"

Shit.

You shift your focus to the screen and toggle for a new character.

"Best two out of three."

You can feel his eyes still on you as you opt for Princess Peach.

Two out of three turns into five out of eight, and around eleven out of twenty, the doorbell rings. When Changbin turns in surprise toward the sound, you take the opportunity to deliver a critical blow, winning your first match of the night. He rolls his eyes as you giggle wickedly and moves to answer the door.

You pull your phone from your pocket reflexively to check the socials you've deleted, before sighing and tossing it across the room to land on the carpet with a thud.

"Did you just throw your phone?"

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch him shooting you a quizzical look over a stack of pizza boxes tall enough to feed a small army. Clambering to your feet you trail after him into the kitchen.

"You do have plans, you liar!" you elbow him as he opens the top box and pulls out a slice, hissing as the melted cheesy overflow burns the tips of his fingers.

"Ow!" he snaps up a napkin and cradles it under the steaming piece of pizza, shaking his other hand before holding up his fingers in front of you.

"Blow on 'em," he whines.

You raise your eyebrows.

"You're joking."

He pouts and you want to laugh. This big, grown man is seriously going to give you the lip right now?

"That's what you get for having no patience, Bin..." you tsk disapprovingly.

He lets out a little disappointed sigh.

"Meanie..." he grumbles, and lets his hand fall.

You return your focus to the obscene amount of food now stacked on Nari's kitchen table.

"So, I'm sure people are going to start showing up, so I'm just gonna..."

Changbin hands you a paper plate with two slices of pizza and heads to the fridge where he fishes out two more beers. You stare at the plate in your hand.

"I...Bin..."

"What, you don't like sweet potato?" he asks with a smirk, cracking open a can and handing it to you.

You blink at him in confusion.

"Please enjoy this meal compliments of Han Jisung, who never remembers to update the address on his delivery app. Now, load up on pizza and let’s get back to it because I'm not trying to let you act like you came out on top from winning that last match on a fluke."

You scoff at his last remark. Watching him pile several slices onto his plate, you take a bite of yours. It tastes good, and you realize as it hits your stomach that you haven't eaten all day. When was the last time you ate a real meal? When was the last time you wanted one?

"Noona?"

Changbin's voice makes you realize you had zoned out and when you blink up at him, there's just nine inches of disposable dinnerware between you. His lips are pursed and his eyes trace your features, their gaze gentle but searching.

"You alright?" he asks.

There it is again; the concern. He isn't just checking in. His voice is soft and low, like his eyes. As a rule, Changbin's voice is strong, resonant - saying everything from his chest without even trying. So when he's gentle, when he pulls himself back...

"Do you miss that guy?" he murmurs.

"No!"

You say it so quickly.

Changbin nods.

"I'm just..." Fuck, why are you suddenly so emotional? "I think I'm...adjusting. Y'know?"

He nods again slowly. Then he reaches up and touches your face, dragging his thumb over the side of your mouth and suddenly your brain waves flat-line. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but before you can even process what's happening, he drops his hand to swipe it on a napkin.

"Had sauce on your face," he mumbles, and you can't read his.

His mouth is tugged up in a small smile but somehow it looks sad, and his eyes look like they're still asking a question that was never really answered. Before you can consider any further, he picks up his plate and heads back toward the living room.

You follow him, still half in your head.

When you sit down next to him, there's something hanging unspoken in the foot and a half of space between your bodies. Something has shifted, gone taut.

Shit, had you made him uncomfortable? Why had you stared at him like a weirdo when he...wait, he touched you...

Your eyes shift over to where he sits beside you. He runs a hand through the wavy hair over his ear. Has he always been so beautiful? He turns quick enough to catch you staring and you put your plate out of your lap. The pizza smells so good but suddenly you can't touch it.

Changbin initiates another round, which you lose in record time. Your stomach grumbles.

"You better eat if you're going to have any hope of beating me again," he goads, finishing off his third slice to abandon the crust with the others on his plate before launching another game.

"I had enough," you deflect, pushing your plate toward him.

"You took two bites."

"I need to cut back."

"Like...go on a diet?"

"Yeah."

His brows furrow and his tongue slips between his lips as he sends Kirby into a hammer flip that lands as a critical hit and you wince.

"What have you eaten today?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I...I don't know. I..."

Your stomach twists. The hunger is there, but so is the anxiety. The fear of being judged for eating too much or too quickly or...

The game pauses. Your plate slides back toward you over the carpet.

"The rest of that piece. Or whatever else you want. But something."

His voice is gentle but firm. You sigh.

"Fine," you murmur, grabbing the half-eaten slice.

You take a bite, and slowly raise your eyes to his as they regard you patiently.

"Sorry," you mumble, covering your mouth, shifting away from him.

"Why now?"

"I make gross noises when I eat."

"What? No you d-"

A hand tugs at your elbow. When you look back toward him his handsome face holds so many things, and you watch as they take turns seizing his features. Horror...pity...anger.

"Who told you that?" he asks lowly, but it doesn't sound like a question. "Noona..."

He squeezes your elbow.

You feel everything you've been shoving down in your chest begin to well up.

Fuck, no!

Your lip trembles.

He's shifting to face you.

You shake your head and press your eyes shut.

Your hand is encompassed in a larger one.

"It's lies, all of it," Changbin whispers with desperate conviction...and your dam breaks.

He pulls you into his arms as you sob with abandon. One of his hands encircles your waist tugging you against his broad, warm chest, and the other slips to brush tenderly over your nape as you tuck your face into his neck.

"He's a liar...shhhh...he's a lying piece of shit," he insists earnestly, into your hair. "You're perfect. He's the one who needs to fix himself. You're so, so perfect."

Perfect? You let your heart hold the word in its palm for one precious moment before pushing it away. Your heart had never been one to accept gifts it didn't think it deserved.

You weep and weep in his strong arms until you run out of tears, and then he holds you while you breathe. As the catharsis of your breakdown begins to settle in, you wonder at the comedown - a softer, warmer one than you've ever known – and you consider the loveliness that has broken your fall.

Soft and firm, everywhere he touches you. And warm. So warm. Not just the heat radiating from his body like a furnace – the velvet rasp of his voice, the absolute and unfaltering nature of his embrace.

Your hands move tentatively against his back. Soft cotton stretches and bunches between your fingers over his sturdy frame. Where your face is pressed to his collar every breath draws in a comforting combination of detergent and cologne. When you close your eyes and sigh, letting your weight sink against him further, you feel his arms tighten in response.

"Sorry," you croak feebly.

"Stop," he implores you, "Every time you apologize, I want to sock that guy in the face."

"I...I'm so stupid, I didn't even really realize..."

"No," his arms squeeze you again, "He had your trust. It was his job to protect you."

Protected. That's how you feel right now. Safe. So, so safe. Letting him hold you and reassure you felt good...it felt right. But yet again, the voice in your mind that liked to remind you how much of a burden you always were speaks up in a sickly whisper.

You pull yourself slowly from his arms and off his lap. Drawing yourself up to stand, you wipe your hot cheeks, puffy red eyes finding his like the needle of a compass. Unprepared for what awaits you in his gaze, your knees nearly give out beneath you.

Changbin is looking up from where he kneels before you, the yearning in his eyes unchecked as they burn with an unasked question and an unspoken promise.

"I should go," you whisper, barely able to form the words.

"Don't," he says, standing.

"If I stay I'll just wreck your night," you mumble.

"You could never," he insists, lips tugging into a little smile. His eyes are still pleading.

"Changbin..." you breathe, suddenly drowning again in the fizzy serotonin his words ignite in your chest. "You don't want..."

"You let me be the judge of what I want."

His hands find your arms and he pulls you in. There are centimeters between you. His eyes rest on your lips. Your heart hammers in your ears as your brain begins to malfunction the way it had when he touched your face...

"D-do I have something on my-"

Mouth? His.

The whole of your being floods with something beautiful and ineffable at the touch of his lips and no voice, no doubt, no force in the world could be stronger than the one that pulls you into him. Your arms fly up to wrap around his neck and tug yourself impossibly closer. His hands drop to your waist, pressing desperately in kind, and your bodies mold together. You flush with heat, sparks igniting in your belly and skittering through your veins as his lips move against yours. He stumbles back, pulling you with him as his knees buckle at the edge of the couch, and your body spills over his lap.

Your fingers card into his hair.

His hands drop to the back of your hips.

Your tongue brushes his bottom lip.

He moans.

At the gorgeous, deep sound from his chest, you pull back, fighting the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth. What the fuck is happening right now? You don't get much time to consider as his head falls against the backrest and his eyes flutter open.

"Sorry," he grins bashfully. The tips of his ears burn pink.

"Now who's apologizing for no reason?" you tease, pressing your hands to his chest.

He smiles so sweetly in return you feel you might physically melt. And then the smile fades and the lids of his eyes grow heavy and he leans up to claim your mouth.

His lips taste the same as a moment ago, but their press is slower, hungrier. His hands are powerful and assertive as they hook under your thighs and pull your hips flush against his own in a single tug. You gasp softly against his lips and you feel his smirk. You feel his smirk and something else - something beginning to press up into your ass through your jeans.

Licking into his mouth, you push down, grinding your hips over his in a slow, deliberate undulation. The groan that falls from his lips unlocks something inside of you that needs to know every sound he makes and how to elicit them. Your mouth drops to his neck.

Suddenly, he's gripping your waist and pivoting to lay you on the cushions, slotting himself between your legs. You're still dizzy from the sudden rush of movement, when your legs curl around his hips and over his ass and–

A loud buzzing from the coffee table has you mourning the press of Changbin's lips to your throat as he glances at the caller ID.

"Shit!" he scrambles to sit up, hand still gripping your thigh above your knee when he presses the phone to his ear.

"Hey," he runs a hand through his hair. "What? Nothing. No, I didn't forget. I will, I will."

You recognize his tone of voice. There could only be one person on the other end of the line. You sit up, your head beginning to clear as the reality of the situation washes over you.

"Okay, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Be safe. Love you."

Changbin presses the end-call button and tosses the phone onto the cushion beside him. He leans back against the couch and claps his hand against your leg with a sigh.

"She really knows how to wreck a moment for me."

You crack a wry smile.

"I mean, it's probably for the best that we don't desecrate your sister's couch."

His eyes widen as horror, disgust, and amusement wage war across his features. You burst into a fit of giggles. He feigns a gag. You laugh so hard that you snort.

"S-sorry," you clap your hand over your mouth, still tittering while your ears heat in embarrassment.

Changbin's face softens again. He reaches for your hand and pulls it from your face, threading his fingers through yours.

"Cut it out."

"What? I can't be embarrassed about snorting like a pig?"

"No. It's cute," he smirks.

"It is not!"

"Mhm. Everything you do is cute."

He glances over at you, a lopsided smirk on his perfect lips, his eyes sparkling. He means it.

You fluster, gaze dropping to your enjoined hands, and concentrate on tracing little patterns on the back of his with your thumb. He sighs.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

The request takes you by surprise and your heart squeezes. If it was any other guy, the night would have been over. For the fourth time tonight, you had been about to head for the door, and for the fourth time, Changbin makes you feel wanted. So you stay.

You grab a big, fluffy blanket from the basket in Nari's room, and when you return, Changbin has the lights dimmed and Your Name ready to go on the TV. You smile as you settle in beside him, tossing half the blanket over his widespread legs.

"We don't have to watch this just because it's my favorite, you know," you insist, but he shakes his head.

"Taki's ma' boy," he smirks, shooting you a glance as he presses play on the remote.

You're not quite sure what it means, but you feel your heart skip a beat just the same.

You love this movie. You love that you've seen it enough times that you can talk through it. You love that Changbin is more than willing to talk over the film himself. You're not certain when it happened, but by halfway through the movie his arm is stretched out behind your shoulders and your head rests on his bicep.

"Do you remember seeing this together in the theater?" he asks suddenly, tilting his head toward yours.

You grin.

"You cried and Nari gave you shit about it," you recall.

"You bailed me out. Told her all the sniffling was you. Never even teased me about it either."

Changbin smiles down at you, his eyes sentimental.

Butterflies flutter their delicate wings in your ribcage. How does he make you feel this way?

Your eyes dip to his lips for a moment. Sighing, you nuzzle into his shoulder, hiding your face as much as seeking his warmth. His arm slips off the back of the couch to curl around your shoulders and pull you into his side. The movie plays on.

When the credits roll, Changbin stretches and yawns, and watching him it dawns on you that, working at a fitness center, he's an especially early riser.

"We should call it a night," you offer, standing and stretching yourself, but you're tugged back down into Changbin's lap, yelping as you topple onto him.

His arms encircle your hips as he regards you with a sleepy grin.

"What, do I live here now?" you tease.

"Stay the night," he urges, tightening his arms around you. "You really want to drive back now?"

You chew your lip, eyes tracing over his face. This is all more than a bit unreal, and you haven't given yourself even one second to process what's happening, lest you utterly panic. All you know right now is that your little ship had been sinking and he had hauled you into a lifeboat. Everything outside of him seems like a raging sea.

You nod.

"Okay," you whisper, combing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll stay.”

His eyes dip shut at your touch and the butterflies flutter gently once more.

A few minutes later, you take Nari's room and slip into a pair of her cotton shorts, which do basically nothing to contain your ass, and tug on a plain white tee that stretches snugly over your torso. How a big guy like Changbin could have emerged from the same genetic pool as his teeny tiny sister was beyond you. As you glance in the mirror, your heart sinks. You don't like how the tight fit is pressing you out everywhere you're most self-conscious. But, they are just pajamas, and they're all you have at your disposal.

As you're about to head into the master bathroom to finish your nightly routine, you remember that the toothbrush and toiletries you keep on hand at Nari's are in the little half-bath attached to the guest room. You groan, glancing at yourself again in the mirror, and pull a blanket around yourself before crossing the hall.

Hoping Changbin hasn’t yet fallen asleep, you knock hesitantly on the door. You hear the bed creak before the door opens to reveal a head of mussed hair and hands scrubbing over bleary eyes. But it's not what you notice. Your apology for rousing him dies on your lips as your eyes glue themselves to his bare chest. Blinking dumbly, your eyes climb from his soft stomach subtly rippling with the presence of strong abdominals up to a pair of impressive pecs with wide-set, dusky nipples. His flannel pajama pants settle at his hips, accentuating how his body broadens as it rises from his waist to his full chest and wide shoulders flanked by bulging biceps. Thick. He's so fucking thick you could bi-

"...Noona?" he rumbles, his voice husky from sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing...sorry..." you rush out, ripping your gaze up to his. "My toothbrush is in your room – I mean! in your bathroom. That's where I usually stay, so...but I didn't think you'd be asleep. Sorry, I can just..."

He rubs over one of his eyes with his palm as he steps aside.

"You can grab it."

Right. You shuffle in awkwardly, trying not to step on the blanket dragging around your feet. As you cross the dark room, you try not to dwell on the rumpled sheets of the bed that speak of his body having lain between them, or the soft smell of his cologne hanging in the air. You quickly retrieve the little toiletry bag and, as you move to squeeze past Changbin at the door, he eyes the fluffy shroud you're clutching to your chest.

He raises a sleepy eyebrow.

"I'm sure Nari has pants you could..."

"I'm wearing pants!" you bluster, "They just...don't fit."

You move out of the doorway to make your way back to your room, but a hand cups the side of your face and turns it as soft lips meet your forehead.

"Good night, noona," he murmurs with a little smile before retreating back into his room.

You stand in the hall, staring at his door, the butterflies absolutely aflurry.

Despite your best efforts, you can't sleep. Your mind is full of the last five hours. Full of Changbin.

He had kissed you. You had kissed him back. And it had felt...

You roll from your side to your back, sighing up at the dark ceiling. You chew on your lip as you remember breaking down and his arms around you. You would usually feel regretful and ashamed after baring yourself like that to someone. You despised moments of weakness. But you couldn't bring yourself to hate the moments in his arms. You didn't regret them. In fact, you wanted him to hold you again. You wanted to feel vulnerable in his hands, and you wanted him to keep you safe.

You feel heat rush up from your neck as you recognize these feelings.

You must be absolutely shameless, you conclude in wonder. You should be freaking out right now - this was Changbin, for Christ's sake – Nari's brother! You should be wondering what happens next, and what all of it means...but even so you can’t bring yourself to care. All your mind can focus on is how his arms felt like waking up after a nightmare to song birds and soft sunlight.

After an hour or so of tossing and turning, the salty pizza from dinner has you parched and slipping out to the kitchen for a drink. You pull a glass from the cupboard and fill it at the fridge, gulping down the contents to refill it again. Suddenly, you feel two strong arms snake around your waist and you start, sloshing your water and smacking the back of your head into the man holding you. You hastily set your glass down and turn in his arms as he lets out a groan, one of his hands releasing you as it flies up to cup the front of his face in pain.

"Bin, oh my god! Are you okay? You scared me!" you chide with a chuckle as you reach up to push his hand away and brush the tips of your fingers across his nose.

He pouts down at you and you smile.

"Did I wake you?"

He huffs.

"Yeah. To get your toothbrush. Then I couldn't go back to sleep."

"Sorry," you groan, still stroking over where you had struck his face. "Does it hurt?"

He nods.

"Kiss it better," he mumbles cutely.

You roll your eyes, but lift your lips to comply when suddenly he interrupts the motion with the soft press of his mouth to yours. It's slow and sweet, and you're struck all over again with how quickly you melt at his touch - a sensation you cannot imagine ever growing accustomed to, but to which you are fairly certain you are in danger of growing entirely addicted.

"Bin..." you whisper against his lips, "Bin, what are we-"

"Liar," he murmurs, pulling back.

Your mouth parts in confusion as you stare up at him, still drunk on his lips.

"You said the clothes didn't fit. You should wear this all the time," he smirks as he squeezes low on your waist.

Your cheeks heat as you remember what you're wearing, but you don't have long to be anxious over it as he presses his lips to your nose...the corner of your mouth...your jaw. You tremble as you lean into him, fingers splaying over his warm, bare chest.

"Let me show you," he whispers against your skin.

"Sh-show me...what...?"

He draws back, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How perfect you are."

You still, eyes flicking up to his. They're dark and tender and pleading. You let out a little shuddering breath.

"I...you don't have t-"

His arms hold you closer, gentle but insistent.

"Let me," he whispers, the tip of his handsome nose brushing over the dip of your cupid's bow. "Please. I want to."

You swallow, eyes dropping to his lips. You want it too, you find. You want his hands and lips and eyes all over you, bringing warmth everywhere they meet your aching body. You nod and take his lips again with yours.

"Yeah?" he murmurs against them.

"Yeah," you breathe, slipping a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair.

He groans in response, deepening the kiss as he licks at your parted lips and when your tongues brush, sparks burst in your belly. You feel it all slipping, the masks, the walls - every barrier you hold up to shield yourself from not being enough. His arms are strong and his lips are tender and you can't focus on anything but the perfection of being so utterly held.

His mouth moves to caress your jaw, under your ear, down the column of your neck, and suddenly you feel the edge of the counter pressing into the small of your back. His hands grip your waist and he hitches you onto the tiled surface with ease. It's cold against your bare legs, but you don't have more than a second to register the discomfort as Changbin nudges his way between your knees. He runs his hands over your thighs as his eyes trail from your panting lips to your lightly heaving chest.

You feel your nipples pebble under his gaze and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his eyes glinting with mischief as he runs a hand up your side, over your shirt, to rest under the swell of your breast. He flicks a thumb over the hardened bud and you whimper and jump. He laughs softly, his smirk spreading into a full smile as he squeezes your breast and brings his eyes to yours.

"Your pretty body likes me, noona," he puffs proudly, massaging you deftly through the soft cotton of the tee.

You don't have a witty retort. Your body likes him so much that it frightens you. And with the deep affection you already feel, have long felt, for him...

You reach to gently tangle your hand again in his coarse, dark curls. He glances up, a sweet little smirk tugging at his pretty lips again.

"Bin..." you sigh.

"Hmm?" he hums as he slips his hands to your bottom and tugs you forward so that you're flush against him.

You dip your head and your lips ghost his.

"Nothing," you whisper, and you kiss him again. Again and again.

His hands slide from your ass to slip beneath your shirt at your lower waist and he kneads the soft flesh above your hips.

"So soft. Feels so good," he groans into your mouth.

You moan as the walls of your pussy contract. You're beginning to ache, beginning to drip – and his words seem to affect you as intensely as his touch.

He moves his lips to latch onto the soft skin of your neck and suck, his hands bunching your shirt up and up until his mouth pops free from your skin and he's pulling the thin garment over your head and tossing it aside. The cool air pricks your skin and you become keenly aware, for the briefest moment, that you are sitting on your best friend's kitchen counter, stripped down to her sleep shorts, with her brother between your thighs. As your brain races to decide whether to find that incredibly arousing or absolutely panic-inducing, Changbin's cherry lips rewire your neurological pathways in favor of the former when they close around your right nipple. Your head lolls back, colliding with the cabinet door and it clatters.

"Shit..." you hiss softly, threading your hands into his hair and gripping it by the roots.

Your eyes slip shut and you focus on the sensation of his warm tongue slipping over the peaks of your breasts, his strong, smooth palms cupping and caressing. And then you feel his little puffs of breath and the nudge of his nose at the valley of your chest as he groans and smushes your tits up to meet his face.

"I fucking live here now," he mumbles into the globe of your breast, and despite the heat of the moment, you softly laugh. You laugh and you feel his smile pressed to your skin.

Then suddenly he's pulling you into his arms in a bridal carry. You know he's strong, as you wrap your arms around his neck, but can't push away a pang of self-consciousness as he bears your weight.

"Bin, I'm so heavy..."

"You're not."

"I don't want you to..."

"Stop it," comes his voice in a soft, deep command as he halts in his tracks to kiss you.

He kisses you and kisses you until you believe that he could carry you until the end of time, and then he takes you into the guest bedroom and sits you gently on the bed. The bed with the mussed sheets that smell like him. The sheets that he's leaning you into as you push yourself to the middle of the bed while he hovers over the top of your body, his lips never leaving yours.

As he sinks down over you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress has warmth licking through your veins. You move your hands to caress over his broad back, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your fingers as he shifts to prop himself up on his elbow. You use the free space to trace your hand down his chest and abdomen until you reach the waistband of his pants. If he'd just push himself a few inches up you could...

He pulls away, just barely breathless, and his eyes find yours. He reaches down with his right hand to pull yours gently from between your bodies and to his lips, before threading his fingers through yours and pressing your joined hands into the sheets beside your head.

"I want to eat you out."

He says it so simply, so confidently, and you can feel more arousal gush to join what's already begun to paint your inner thighs.

"Fuck..." you breathe, your fingers trembling in his grasp.

"Can I?" he asks, kissing your lips softly again.

For a moment you're afraid of what saying yes will mean, of the intimacy of it all, of the possibility that you won't measure up, someway, somehow, or maybe...that you will - and what in the world you would do with that level of acceptance...

You let out a shaky sigh, as you hold his gaze. It arrests you and washes over you. You remember his eyes as he knelt on the living room floor, and all they pleaded with you to disbelieve, to unlearn.

Yes. Yes...If it's him, you want it, whatever it means.

You surge forward, pressing your lips to his, your hands weaving through his hair, pulling him in. He lets out a tiny whimper as you devour him, kissing him with determined abandon until you have to come up for air.

"Yes, Bin, yes," you shudder into his mouth as he pants over you. “Yes I want you to.”

In answer, he presses one last tender kiss to your lips before moving to kiss down your body. He moves slowly, but with purpose, pressing an adoring mouth to every part of you that’s bared. He kisses your ear, your neck, your collarbones…he moves over your shoulders and down your right arm to the tip of each finger. He kisses your breasts and down your stomach. He kisses your belly button, and over your hips and down your left thigh. He kisses the inside of your knee, and bends your leg to kiss over your calf and down to your ankle.

You can barely watch him, as he brushes his lips over you, but he flicks his eyes up to yours so often you don’t dare look away. There is something flickering in his gaze, something like a challenge - daring you to contradict, to doubt what he seeks to impress upon you - and you begin to feel something strange and new. Something you’d never found at the touch of a lover, blooming in your chest and unfurling like a proud little flower under the sun: the strong, heady beauty of esteeming yourself worthy of his desire. It terrifies you a bit, and the ugly voice that has heckled you so often tries to cast doubt, but Changbin’s lips and hands are too persistent and assured for the harbinger in your mind to linger long. And the tidal wave of lovely feelings crashing over you threatens to destroy the shabby prison your heart has lingered in for so long.

Changbin lays his head on your thigh as he brings his hand off the other to cup your pussy over the softness of your shorts. His groan is nearly as loud as yours when he rubs over your mound, and it makes you impossibly wetter. He’s so unabashed and liberal with reacting to what he enjoys, and he is clearly enjoying you as much as he ever has anything.

He moves to bring his face to your clothed cunt, hovering over you for a nanosecond to catch your eyes as he mouths down over you. Your jaw drops open, and when his teeth scrape dully over your clit, your hips jerk and you fist the sheets. Changbin pulls back with a smirk, and sits back on his knees between your legs. He pulls one of your legs up to lean against his shoulder as his hands instinctively knead over the muscles of your calf and thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, with a little smile.

You nod with one of your own.

“I’m gonna lift you, okay? You can hold onto my legs, but I’ll have you, so don’t worry.”

You bite your lip and nod, suddenly a little shy. Look at him. Where did he get all this confidence?

He drops your leg briefly to tug off your shorts and panties, cursing at how wet you are, and gently slipping two fingers to brush between your glistening lips and over your clit. You gasp at the sensation - his fingers deft, his touch soft but firm where you ache for him. And then, suddenly, he is sliding your legs back up to rest against his chest and shoulders. His hands slip down to your hips and he effortlessly tugs your ass over the incline of his thighs and flush with his abdomen. Your heart starts to thrum in your chest. His body is warm and sturdy against the soft plush of your ass. Heat floods your cheeks when you sense a slickness against him where your arousal has begun to smear against his stomach. He, however, is far less bashful. Widening the gap between your thighs, he dips his head down, inhaling deeply.

"Fuck…" he murmurs, squeezing your legs where he holds them.

When he raises his eyes to yours again, they’re unlike you’ve ever seen. They’re dark and hungry and hooded in a way that nearly intimidates you. His expression is full of heat, and manly in its sudden gravity. He watches you as he slips his thumbs under your waist and, slowly with strong hands, pulls your hips up beneath his chin. Your legs bend at the knees and drape around the crown of his head. Your spine curves where your upper back is flush with his thighs, your arm on either side of his kneeling form, and as he embraces you tightly around the hips and waist, you feel nearly every ounce of your weight suspended in his hold. The blood rushes to your head where it lays against the mattress, your neck curving just shy of his knees, offering a clear view of his gorgeous face as he wastes no time in pressing his open mouth to your labia.

Your core muscles flex in response, hips pressing higher against him as you feel ripples of exquisite pleasure trickle through your body from above. The smooth muscle of his tongue slips past your entrance and begins fucking into you. Your head swims, the slightest dizzying restriction of oxygen dampening your ability to focus on anything but the bliss of his hot, wet mouth. Being tasted has never felt this intense. You whimper, your hands reaching around his body to find purchase on his muscular ass. You feel the press of his throbbing erection into your back as his tongue fucks unhurriedly into you. He’s rock hard, and all for you. From the sight of your naked body, the feel of you in his hands, the taste of you on his tongue. From the sounds pouring off of your lips as he worships your sex.

Your legs begin to shake. You’re so totally in his hands. He holds you, lavishes you, consumes you. Nothing stands between you and ecstasy, and you can feel your climax fast approaching as pleasure ebbs and flows like a crashing tide on the rhythm of his firm, languid strokes.

"Ch-Changbin! Nhhh!" you mewl, you voice throaty and muffled from your position.

He growls against you and you nearly cum then. One of his hands drops to squeeze the soft mound of your right breast. Your cheeks burn, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead and neck. You can feel your pussy throbbing - hot and sticky and swollen with stimulation - as he devours it like the flesh of ripened fruit. His lips encircle your clit and suckle as the tip of his tongue flicks over the erect peak of your bud.

And then it all goes white. You lose all sense but feeling as you rock your hips up to meet him, the tension in your abdominals adding sinfully to the fluttering pulsating of your pussy. There’s nothing but you and him and his arms around you and his mouth against the most intimate parts of you as your orgasm washes over you in electrifying slow-motion, pulling you under a tidal wave of bliss for what seems like an eternity. Your lips part in a silent scream of his name, your eyes pressed shut, as he works you through the longest and most intense climax your body has ever experienced.

You feel him place one last sweet, gentle kiss to your cunt before moving the hand on your breast to one of your thighs as he guides you back down onto the bed. You’re panting and boneless as you watch him draw an arm over his cum-slicked chin and cheeks. For a moment he simply looks down at you, a victorious air about him as his eyes trace your sated features and his gorgeous chest heaves with labored breath, then he crawls forward on the bed, stretching himself out on his side next to you, his body flush with your own. He slips his hand over the soft skin of your belly and rubs it soothingly as he watches you with a little grin.

“You good?” he asks in a raspy murmur.

You reach for his face, bringing it to yours as you kiss him with what wherewithal you have. You pull away, still breathless.

“Am I good? Seo Changbin, I think I could fly.”

His answering smile is so filled with joy and pride and affection that you think you truly may have sprouted wings. You roll to your side to press yourself against him, your hand tugging at the waistband of his pajamas, but he takes your hand again in his.

“Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Tonight is yours.”

“Bin…”

“I’m yours.”

You blink up at him, his head resting on his hand, his eyes sparkling and soft.

“If you’ll have me,” he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “You don’t have to answer right now. I know you’re going through a lot, and this is all…new.”

He smiles again, glancing down as his features take on a boyish shyness.

“But I care for you. And, however things work out,” his eyes lock with yours again, “I’ll always protect you.”

Your heart stands still. There are things that are too deeply lovely for words to be wasted on them. Any words but three - three that are already deeply true, but which have begun to mean something beautiful and different tonight, burying themselves like a little seed in your heart that needs time to grow. So for now you let yourself cry tears that fall like raindrops in the sunlight, and drift to sleep with the steady beat of Changbin’s heart.

“Ay!” Nari’s voice cuts through the din of chatter as her hand shoots out to narrowly prevent a fellow patron from snagging the chair beside her. “Sorry, seats are taken.”

She takes a sip of her beer and stretches her short legs as far as they will reach across the two empty chairs beside her.

“The guys are gonna have to hustle if they’re gonna sit with us,” she says reproachfully, dark brows rising as her eyes scan the venue for the bodies that belong in the seats you have been desperately attempting to reserve for the last hour.

The Eight Ball is crowded to bursting, and you scan the stage for signs of the evening’s openers. Checking your phone, you find that it’s nearly eight. You also find a text that brings a smirk to your lips.

“What?”

You glance up at Nari, who’s staring at you suspiciously.

“Nothing…” you mumble, flipping your phone back over onto the table. You sip your cocktail through a straw.

“Are you texting him?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

“What? Who?”

“You know who,” Nari mocks, narrowing her eyes at you. “The jerkwad.”

“Oh my god, Nari, no!” you sigh, as your phone buzzes again.

She glances at it.

“Then what was with the look? Who are you…”

“Are these for us?” a voice belonging to a smiling, dimpled young man in a black hoodie with a matching beanie pulled over his head saves you from further explanation.

“Jesus, Chris, finally,” Nari admonishes as he takes the seat next to you, pulling her legs off the remaining chairs to free them up for the other two men that follow behind him.

The freckled blond pulls Nari into a side hug which she returns, booping his nose before leaning across him to peer menacingly at his friend.

“Yo, Jisung,” she barks, “If you’re gonna order several hundred pizzas, how about taking some with you next time? My fridge is still stuffed.”

The young man blinks wide, surprised eyes at her before his brain catches up with her scolding.

“Sorry, but it wasn’t my fault!” he insists poutingly. “I ordered them because Changbin asked me to and then he canceled gaming weekend ‘cause he had a girl over.” he grumbles, causing the other two to snicker.

“Nice,” Chris giggles.

This time you do choke.

Your eyes fly to your best friend, watching the barrage of questions bubbling up on her face when a voice cuts through the din, silencing the crowd and unknowingly saving himself for the time being.

“Good evening, Eight Ballers!” Changbin rasps into his mic as Hyunjin waves, as ridiculously beautiful as ever, beside him.

You look at Changbin’s eyes.

They’re bright and confident and determined. You smile and cheer when he finishes introductions. As the band hits the first few notes of the opening number, his gaze finds yours, and it’s full of so many things.

His eyes sparkle with seven days worth of secrets – of waking up to your eyes and arms, of a weekend of nothing but bare bodies and hearts, of weeknight phone calls until the wee hours of the morning…of a new way of caring for each other that you’ll eventually tell the others, but that is just yours for now.

As you look at him, so full of adoration, you hope you can offer him even a fraction of the new world he’s only just begun to share with you – and the reflection you see a little more beautifully each day in the light of his eyes.

-Fin-

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ranger-ribbons · 8 months

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General Ranger Headcanons

Ranger Teams are protective of their youngest members and their Reds. Sometimes, this does coincide, but for the most part, the youngest and the Red are separate people

Red Rangers generally have zero self-preservation instincts, either because of trauma or daredevil personalities

Blue Rangers can be the 'tech wiz', but generally, they're just extremely intelligent

Rangers all have a pretty solid relationship with gender and pronouns. Mostly because they see and fight aliens literally every day and have decided they have Bigger Things to worry about

Reds, Yellows, and Blues are usually always there on the Ranger teams, so it's common for them to be close

Rangers have a list that they pass down to the younger teams. This list details little things like how to help give each other strength to what pain medications can help the aches and pains go away fastest, because yes the suits take most of the blows, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt later

Some Rangers have PTSD, some have anxiety, some have depression. There are, in fact, numbers of former-Ranger therapists that the Rangers all know by heart

Teams don't really drift apart, they stick together because who else is gonna understand what it's like to witness the people you hang around daily almost die every other week?

Rangers drift toward other Rangers. It's due to the Morphin' Grid power they've been imbued with and the Morphin' Grid's pull to itself

There's a point in every Ranger's fight that shift-sleeping becomes the norm amongst teams. It's to stop nightmares, but also because of the paranoia that strikes when you're in fight or flight mode too long

Rangers from space or space-adjacent stick together

Rangers in general stick together, always. Where one Ranger is, another is typically not far behind. Some teams go so far as to get houses together, others just in the same neighborhood or town. Never far from each other, and never away for too long

The Power will never, can never abandon its chosen people. Once it makes its choices, it will not deviate. It doesn't stop looking out for its chosen ones either. Once you've bonded to the Morphin' Grid, you're stuck for life, regardless of being active or not

In Universe, people write fanfiction about the Rangers. Yes, they read it, sometimes they even like it. (Megaforce and down in particular find it hilarious)

The scone the Rangers find out about their Super Sentai counterpart shows, it's on. Some find them hilarious, some find them uncomfortable, but it's all in good fun for all of them

A list of common triggers is passed around to the Ranger teams, including but not limited to: loud noises, bugs, fog, robotic voices/static

Some of the Rangers (especially those who've been fighting for years) get therapy animals

Rangers have problems connecting to people who aren't Rangers or don't know about Rangers. Similar to military or police or doctors, Rangers are never truly off unless they're inactive and even then, it's a roll of the dice as to if they'll be pulled back in. Most of them have been doing this since they were teens, so they never truly got a chance. Preston Tien, Ninja Steel Blue, once described the experience as "playing with a half-deck whilst the other decks are rigged against you" and most of the other Rangers agreed

Every Ranger knows the pain of Nightmares, which is a big part of the reason shift-sleeping became so common amongst teams. Sleeping disorders are also common, which is not easy for the Rangers to deal with. When you're trained from a young age to be fighters and saviors of the planet, you don't walk away without trauma

Rangers who've gone Evil (or started Evil) and come back to the side of Good have each other's direct lines, Tommy Oliver, Karone, Trent Fernandez-Mercer, etc, all of them share a similar fear of suddenly turning evil again

Rangers do not like Zordon for his express need to put teenagers into a war that isn't even their's

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andreafmn · 10 months

Text

Speak | Chapter 10

Word Count: 3.5K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 10/? Warnings: emotional and mental abuse A/N: can't believe I finished this on schedule! the story everyone is obsessed with for some reason just got updated😂🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

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Chapter 10

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Jacob suddenly asked as the pair made their way to his truck. "It's already so late and I don't wanna make the drive back to Forks right now."

"Uh, sure, that sounds great," she said, trying to contain her excitement. A surge of happiness took over her as she witnessed Jake trying. He was trying to keep them together, at least that's what it looked like to her. "I'll just let dad know."

"Yeah, sure."

After she had settled on the center of the seat, Jacob helped his father into the truck, stepping out to say goodbye to his friends.

"I'll let you know that there won't be any funny business under my roof, (Y/N)," Billy smiled teasingly. "Though I am glad that Jacob is seemingly trying to turn over a new leaf this new year."

"I promise we'll do nothing but sleep, Billy," she chuckled. "And I also hope this is a new start for Jake and me. That everything that happened stays in the past and we can just give it our all in this relationship."

"If it is meant to be, (Y/N), the universe will find a way," he said as mystically as he always spoke. "You deserve happiness, my child."

"People keep saying that," she responded, her eyes growing far more interested in the skin of her fingers. "Does no one think that Jake can make me happy?"

"That's not what I'm saying, (Y/N)," he smiled, his hand falling on top of the one she was picking. "All I am saying is that if the love and happiness that you deserve is with Jacob, then the universe will allow it."

"And if not?"

"Then, your paths will always align."

"Then let's hope that what's written on the stars is in our favor." And as she said that she didn't know if she was wishing that to convince him or to convince herself.

The three of them rode back to the Black residence in a comfortable silence. The sounds of the woods and the whistling of the wind filled their quiet. She wondered what they said. If they whispered words of encouragement or if they taunted her downfall. She wanted to believe it was the former, because the latter would wreck her.

"Well, you two. I trust that you will behave yourselves since you're under my roof," Billy told them, eyeing the teenagers suspiciously. "And don't start getting used to these sleepovers. This is only because it's already two in the morning and we are all tired."

"Dad," Jacob grumbled. "Just go to bed already."

"Ooh, never thought I'd be shooed away in my own home," the man chuckled. "But I will leave you two. Not because you told me so, but because I am tired. Good night, kids."

"Night, dad."

"Good night, Billy."

Billy rolled away to his bedroom, turning in for the night. He left the couple standing in the living room, a heavy and tense air blowing between them. They had yet to acknowledge everything that had happened between them, much less finally putting it to rest.

"Uh, I'll get you some clothes and you can shower first if you want," Jacob mumbled as he walked into his room before coming out with a folded t-shirt and some sweatpants. "Might be a bit big on you, but it's better than nothing. There're extra towels under the sink."

"Sure," she smiled. "Thanks."

There was still remnant awkwardness between them as they tried to waltz around unspoken words. She locked herself in the bathroom, finally allowing herself to breathe. Fresh start is what she told herself. Over and over again she told herself that they were having a fresh start. As she showered and cleaned away Paul's touch and the thought of him, she had to believe it.

Jacob was who she had always wanted. The boy she had grown up with, the one she had never forgotten. Still, her mind wondered what would have happened if Paul had been the one she had met first. If he had been the boy that was in her mind for the almost sixteen years she had been alive. Maybe she would have been standing in his bathroom instead of Jake's. Maybe she would have been wearing his oversized t-shirt.

"Hey," Jacob called softly from the living room as she opened the bathroom door. "Come here."

(Y/N) walked down the hallway to where he was, a smile stretching on her face as she was met with what Jake had done while she showered.

He had pushed aside the wooden coffee table that lived between the sofas and placed in its stead plush blankets and pillows, a pair of hot chocolate mugs in front of the fireplace. His long, wet hair was plaited back, and he had changed into pajamas. And he was waiting for her.

"What's all this?" (Y/N) smiled.

"I think it's about time we put things to rest already, (Y/N)," he said, patting the pace in front of him. "I don't like fighting with you."

"I don't like it either," she sighed contentedly as she sank into the warmth of his body, his arms wrapping around her. "I like things when they're like this. When we're together and happy."

"I know, and I want it to be like this all the time. But it can't be when I hear you're running around with Paul," he reminded her. His tone was soft, but his words were as snipping as a snake's bite. "I just can't stand the guy and it's embarrassing when it happens in front of the town."

"Jake, I..."

"Don't worry, baby, that's all in the past. As long as you promise not to see him again, (Y/N). I don't want you to fall into his trap."

(Y/N) couldn't remain quiet for long. She knew it would only work to anger him. But how could she promise something she didn't want to do? Something that her gut told her was wrong. "Of course," she lied. "I promise. Paul is a thing from the past."

"That's what I like to hear," he smiled before he turned her head to kiss her. "We need to focus more on us. Focus on our relationship."

"I would love that," she beamed. "I want this to work, Jake. I want us to work."

"Then let's," he smirked.

Jake attached his mouth to her neck, nipping at a spot that took her breath away. His hand held her head back, gripping her jaw. He took in her scent, the warmth of her skin, the sounds from her mouth. All as he imagined...

"Stop, Jake," she said, her voice treading between a moan and a chuckle. "Your dad is literally down the hall."

"He's a heavy sleeper," he chuckled against her skin. "He'll never know."

"No, Jake." She separated from him; a playful grin splayed on her mouth as she turned to face him. "Not here. Not now."

"Ugh, fine," he groaned, falling on his back. "Then, I guess we'll just sleep."

"Yes," she mused, crawling over his body and planting a soft kiss on his lips. "But together."

Jacob wrapped his arms around her and chuckled, positioning both of them comfortably on a blanket and draping another over them. Her body curled into his, his arms wrapped around her waist as he spooned her.

"We'll have to talk about taking things to the next level," he said against her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "I think it might cement everything between us."

"And I think you need to take a breather, Jacob," she chuckled. "We just got to a good place. Let's take things as they go."

"Ugh, fine," he muttered jokingly. "Then, let's just go to sleep."

"Alright, Jake. Good night."

"Night, (Y/N)."

If every night after was like this one, maybe it was the universe's way of telling her that Jake was the one. Laying there, wrapped in his arms, she could let herself believe that the tides were changing. That at the end of the day, Jacob would choose her. Maybe, just maybe.

***

"I can't believe she went home with him," Paul groaned, punching a nearby tree. The way the bark splintered helped ease his anger for a second, but the burning pain inside his chest remained. "I don't know what else I can do to make her understand what a shitty guy he is."

"You know there is," Jared teased. "You could always tell her how you feel and why."

Paul's stoic stare was clear even in the darkness of the night. He knew Jared was right. The more he pursued her without telling her the reason why, the harder it would be to explain his behavior. "You know I can't, dude," he grumbled. "I don't wanna put her in the middle of all of this bull."

"It's not that bad, man," the boy offered. "Look at me and Kim. She knows and nothing has happened to her."

"Yeah, she also liked you before you were a shapeshifting freak," he joked. "And look at Emily. She's forever scarred because didn't have a grasp on what was happening."

"Come on, you know that was an exception, Paul. What happened to her was a very unfortunate accident. But an accident, nonetheless. There's really no reason for you to be running from (Y/N)."

"Look how much shit happened to Bella in so little time, Jared. And it all started when she found out the truth about the Cullens," Paul said. "I don't know what I would do if I made (Y/N) go through any of that because of what I am."

"So you're gonna continue brooding and make our lives miserable? Just tell her, man. Maybe she'll fall in love with you and turn that frown upside down."

Paul picked up a stick and threw it at Jared's head, laughing as the other boy tried to duck but failed to; the piece of wood bouncing off his forehead. "You'll have to put up with me for a lot longer then," he laughed, swallowing the sadness that threatened to overtake him. "I just don't think I have it in me to do that to her. She deserves to be safe and happy."

"Even if it's with Jacob?"

"Unfortunately, that decision is hers to make," he sighed. "I just wish she didn't have to get hurt in the process."

Jared remained quiet for a second. He stared as his pack brother paced before him, his mind too quiet aside for the sporadic image of (Y/N). But even if he didn't say it, he could feel Paul's sadness. He could feel the tug in his chest that called him to go to her. He had felt it too. Every time Kim had to go to a family dinner or visit family out of state, he felt like someone had taken his heart off his chest and sent it away.

But (Y/N) was so close. All he had to do was have one tough conversation and he could soften the grasp of the claws that covered his heart. "What are you so afraid of, Paul?" Jared finally said. "I know you say you don't want to hurt her and all that, but there's something else. Isn't there?"

Paul stared at his friend, wondering if he was that transparent. "I've never been a, uh, a relationship guy. Haven't had the best role models," he confessed. "I guess I think that if I let myself get close to her, I won't be able to handle when she inevitably goes. Because at the end of the day, everyone leaves."

"Not everyone, Paul. We're still here."

"Because you have to be," he shrugged. "If you had the chance to go, you would take it. And don't try denying it."

"Come on, man. You're my friend. More than that, you're my brother," Jared reassured. "But, sure, if I had the chance to leave the rez one day, I would take it. But that doesn't mean I would leave my friends behind. Much less, family."

"Jared, we wouldn't have even spoken to each other had it not been because of the shift. I'm not that delusional to think otherwise."

"Regardless of how or why it happened, life brought us together, Paul. And whether you like it or not, you're my brother now," the boy smiled, draping his arm over Paul's shoulders. "Now, you need to let that girl prove that she would stick by you as well. And it starts by having that difficult conversation you're so scared to have. She's desperate for a reason, dude. All you have to do is tell her."

"She's going to think I'm crazy, J. That I'm making up stories to get her away from Jake," Paul whined. "Why would she believe that there are shapeshifting wolves roaming around the reservation protecting humans from threats? And what if she goes to her sister with the story? Then Bella will know about vampires and shapeshifters, and it'll just add more shit on top of the mess we're dealing with."

"How about you stop overthinking yourself into the ground and finally grow some balls?" Jared teased. "Don't think of what might happen and live in the moment. I know last year's Paul would've had the courage to ask her out. Jacob or no Jacob."

"I technically already asked her out once, and it ended up with me, by myself, in the diner," he reminded his friend, red flooding his cheeks as he recalled the embarrassing moment. "This is not just about inviting the prettiest girl in school to the prom. This is about telling someone that everything they had believed is not real. It's telling her that it doesn't matter what she might have wanted, that something out in the universe decided that we are bonded for life. It's telling a girl like her that she's stuck with a guy like me."

"Man, I can't keep trying to convince you that you are a good guy," Jared sighed. "I'm not saying you're the gods' gift to mankind. Certainly not the you from a year ago. But you're not that guy anymore. You're not even the same guy from six months ago. So, it's time to pick yourself up and do what you have to do. Stop moping about this and do something."

***

(Y/N) woke up with warm arms wrapped around her and a pang in her chest she didn't understand. She was supposed to feel happy. She was supposed to wake up that New Year's Day with an overwhelming amount of joy and the sense that things were finally on the right path. Instead, there was an aching void in her heart that was trying to eat at her insides.

It was the same void that had started festering since that fateful night at the bonfire. The one that seemed to calm whenever the fluke was around. The one that called out his name and she had let go on deaf ears.

That pang filled her with guilt. As she lay in Jacob's arms, she felt guilty that her head was thinking of another guy. And it was a guy she barely knew. A boy that she had no business thinking about, much less dreaming about.

But she couldn't help it. She couldn't forget the softness of his hands against her skin, the brightness of his smile as he looked at her, the glimmer in his eyes when he listened to her. She couldn't get him out of her head.

And as if by divine intervention, the very constant thought appeared in Jacob's window. He knocked softly, motioning for her to go outside. (Y/N) couldn't believe he was there, much less that Jacob had yet to wake up. But what was harder to fathom was the fact that she was tiptoeing to the front door dragging a blanket with her.

"What are you doing here, Paul?" (Y/N) said as she closed the door behind her, wrapping the fabric tighter around her body. "If Jacob sees you here, he'll kill you."

"I thought I was supposed to be playing nice with him," he grinned teasingly. "What if I was here to extend a truce?"

"It wouldn't have mattered because he made me promise him that I wouldn't see you again," she whispered. "So, imagine what he will do if he sees you here right now."

"And did you?"

"What? Did I what?"

"Did you promise him, (Y/N)?" Paul asked sadly. "Is this your way of telling me that you're cutting ties with me?"

"No, of course not," she quickly replied. "I mean, I did promise him. But I never intended to keep it. I would just find a way to keep you two separate."

"So, what? I'd just be your dirty little secret?" he replied, anger clear in his tone. "Yeah, no, thanks. I'd rather take my chances with other friendships."

"What did you want me to say, Paul? Did you want me to tell my jealous boyfriend that I wanted to maintain a friendship with the one guy he seems to despise more than anything?" (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth. "Would you have wanted me to tell Jake that I wanted to spend time with a guy he was close to dragging into the middle of town and beating the living daylights out of him? Sure, that would have ended great for me."

"Why would you wanna be with a guy like that, (Y/N)? If you're that afraid of his reaction over something as small as a friendship, what do you think will happen if something bigger happens?"

"He only reacts that way with you, and I don't get why," she sighed. "And I wanna be with him because I... because... because I..."

"Why, (Y/N)? Tell me!"

"Because I love him, Paul," she cried, shame cracking her voice. "I've been waiting for this chance for the better part of my life. I've been in love with him for as long as I've known what it was. And he wants me back, Paul. He wants me. And I'm not giving up at the first sign of hardship. So, if you really want to be my friend then you're gonna have to live with that."

"What if I don't?" Paul grumbled, his voice low and hurt. He got closer to her. So close she could feel how warm his body was, even through the blanket. "What if I can't stand around and watch as he mistreats you? Someone that loves you would never treat you like that."

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Paul," she whispered, warm tears falling down her cheeks. "For some reason I want you in my life. But I won't screw up what I just started with Jacob for a friend."

"I just don't wanna see you like this," he said, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumbs. "You deserve to be happy, but not when it has rules and regulations like this. You should be allowed to still be yourself when you're in a relationship."

"Paul..."

"Listen, (Y/N)," he sighed. "I can't tell you what to do, nor would I want to. But I can't just watch in the sidelines as he treats you like shit when you deserve someone that will worship the ground you walk on."

"What are you saying, Paul?" (Y/N) croaked. "Are you saying you won't be my friend if I stay with Jacob?"

"(Y/N), I'm saying that I won't keep quiet if he keeps mistreating you."

"He doesn't," she said, but she knew it wasn't convincing. She didn't even believe it herself. "He just... he's just passionate, I guess."

"Then can you promise me something?" Paul sighed, his eyes glossing with tears. "If he ever –and I mean ever—gets physical with you, even as much as lifts his hand at you, you will tell me. The second it happens, you call me."

"I don't think it'll come to that," she forced a smile. "He would never put his hands on me."

"Just, please, (Y/N). Promise me and don't lie to me."

"Alright," she said, looking straight into the brown of his eyes. "I promise, Paul."

"I'll make sure you're always safe," he promised. His hand had not fallen from her face, his thumb caressing over her cheekbone. "No one is going to hurt you, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) had no idea why, but she believed every word he said. So, she promised. And, unlike with Jacob, she intended to keep it.

Next ->

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iqmmir · 3 months

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THIS IS A YUNO POST ABOUT HOW YUNO IS LITERALLY JUST SOME GIRL!!!!! TRUST ME GUYS!!!!!

also thank you tsumi @74n5n for reading this for me i love talking about you with the milgram sillies forwve

Have you ever spoken to spoken who is clearly in a bad situation but they refuse to accept it?

I'm going to give an example of my mother, because it's easier to explain with an example.

My mother has an elder brother who has polio. My grandmother was very protective of him because of that and also due to the way they (my grandmother and her friends, people of that generation) were raised, there was a certain way she treated her children differently.

My grandmother expected everyone in the world to be against my uncle because of his disability. So she was very protective of him. Simultaneously, there are certain things I remember her saying to me that I'm pretty sure she said to my mother also. 'Once you're older, your brother will take care of his family, so you have to take care of your parents' 'Who is the mother supposed to rely on, if not the daughter?' 'You're the girl, you're more mature than your brother, so understand this'

Things like this are very common here. I personally do not believe this, but I'm talking about my mother here. She (and my grandmother) automatically believed that the '(Elder) Son' is someone who the 'Parent' and, if applicable, '(Younger, usually girl) Sibling' must help and take care of so they can become their 'own person' with their 'own family'. It's a certain concept. I'm just telling this to explain something else trust me guys okay.

My mother was treated horribly. I can see that, my brother can see that, my father can see that. My mother herself however lives in denial. My grandmother, to raise her son, treated her daughter like an adult when she was a child. Expecting her to be the 'mature' one. 'You're the daughter, you'll be stuck taking care of kids, other girls deal with this too, so you should get used to it, this is the norm.'

Being the 'mature' one is a matter of pride for her. Being the one understanding others, devoting herself to others, denying yourself of what makes you happy, that makes her proud.

But, see, this is normal. This is how everyone here lives. I'm not saying it's right.

A wife, a mother, a sister. Wake up before everyone else, clean the house, make breakfast for your children, send them to school, do the housework, make breakfast for your husband, go to your own job, come back, make lunch, clean the house, take care of your children. It's too much work. But it's the regular for most women her age.

It's normal. So whenever I or my brother point out how 'being only for others' is really disturbing and stuff, my mother's reply is usually along the lines of 'Everyone lives like this.' This is normal, see.

Now, I know nothing about japan and its system. But the way Yuno behaves reminds me of my mother, and other girls Yuno's age that I have met. Let me elaborate.

Yuno detests the idea of being a victim. She believes a victim to be someone weak, not someone like her. Someone without any choice, not someone like her. Someone who is hurt, not someone like her. Someone who needs to be helped, not someone like her. She is normal. She is not a victim.

Yuno is the eldest daughter of a house with no father. Whatever she's doing, it's all expected of her. For her, this is normal. Taking care of her younger siblings, it's normal. Minimising her own expenses so much that the most expensive thing she ever bought was a teddy bear, it's normal.

The way she is behaving, it's all expected of her. She's the girl, she must be more mature. She's the sister, she must take care of her siblings. She is mature, she does not need help or anything of the sort. She is independent. She is not a victim.

Do you know why most people deny having depression or anything? It's because of how everyone views them. A victim of abuse, a victim of neglect, treating them with pity, not as a person. They've probably done that themselves. Seeing the 'victims' as someone helpless and not capable of taking care of themselves. Someone that needs someone else.

The system, society, capitalism, whatever you want to call it, encourages this mindset. Treating victims as someone with no autonomy, viewing it as a 'bad' thing will stop people from looking for help. If everyone is similar, it will be normal. Being a 'victim' is a very.. isolating thing. People begin treating them as 'concepts of victims'. Constantly treating them with pity, looking down on them. No one will want that right? Being treated like a 'victim' is equivalent to being treated like an idiot. For a better example, being treated like a toddler.

I'm going to talk about Muu here, to explain my thoughts a little more. The moment 'inmf' dropped, I wasn't here, I wasn't part of the fandom, but from the posts and things I have seen, Muu became someone.. 'manipulative'. Everything she did in Trial 1, she was only doing it for pity. Now she has too much ego. The idea of a victim, she isn't fitting there anymore. She has done something wrong. She is in the wrong too. But a 'victim' can't be in the wrong. It's either a victim or a bitch, you can't be both. A 'victim' can't be held responsible for their actions. She was bullied, it was wrong. It was wrong of her to bully others too (I have more complicated thoughts about this, but this isn't a muu post). But for some reason, the fandom.. can't accept it properly.

'She regrets killing Rei' she views herself as a monster because she doesn't regret killing Rei. 'Shes manipulative' She was behaving like any other teenage girl who has been kidnapped from her house and being told that she's a murderer. For some reason, Muu simultaneously being a victim and being a bitch is very difficult for people to comprehend.

Being a victim of domestic abuse does not give you the right to abuse your children, right? But when the idea that Amane's mother is also a victim was brought up, everyone was so uncomfortable with it. BEING A VICTIM DOES NOT MEAN YOU ARE IMMEDIATELY FUCKING FORGIVEN, IT'S NOT A FREE PASS, YOU SEE? A 'victim' is a person with a whole personality, you can't see them as black and white because it's not who the person is.

This is something many people, including Yuno don't understand. Once you're labelled a 'victim' everyone begins to make excuses for you, those who you have hurt need to 'understand that you were hurt too'. So for Yuno, who strongly believes in society and its ideals, 'if im a victim it means i had no choice it means the people i have hurt [im shooting an arrow in the dark here, trust me bro please] need to understand, if im a victim i owe nothing to anyone'. The concept of victim is something like this to her.

This is how many, many girls I know think. In their mind, because of how they were raised and how everyone else thinks, they are being normal. They aren't victims. Yuno is literally just some girl.

#.mimiming ❜#my milgram thoughts #milgram #yuno kashiki

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mantizimus · 5 months

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Hello! I've never asked for requests before, so I hope I haven't messed up anywhere x) I just need a little inspiration. Fandom: Transformers Prime. Headcanon I think. Platonic. Female reader. Half Mexican. The reader becomes Optimus Prime's human partner at the beginning of the series. She is very independent and used to cope with everything by herself (her father left her mother, and her mother did not take care of her due to depression), quite rude, decisive, sarcastic, and even cynical, feisty, wild, but at the same time very sympathetic. She is 3 days older than Jack and likes to make fun of him for it. Engaged in street dancing, likes to read literature, both classic and criminal. The most interesting thing is that she combines some of the qualities of Optimus and Megatron: she can be quite cruel, also has anger issues (although it's more like cold rage) and has no problem killing bad people, while being very loyal, fair and decisive. This makes her a morally gray character. I would like to read how her relationship with Optimus developed in general with such characteristics, given that they later turned into a father-daughter relationship. Some moments between them that show this relationship. Also, maybe she had some interesting interactions with Megatron? If the fantasy goes further, then write about her relationship with other members of the Prime Team, including people. I hope I didn't add anything too much. Sorry for my bad English. Thanks in advance!

It's OK. Just, please, don't send such long requests next time. I might go "tl;dr" mode and miss something you'd like to see.

Father-daughter relationship with fem human Reader

Optimus Prime

Adopting a human girl wasn't part of Optimus' plans, but he's not complaining.

He don't quite understand why you tease Jack because he's a little younger than you.

Feels sympathy for you when he finds out about your past.

If your biological parents try to take you away, he will politely explain that you're staying with him.

From time to time he will turn to you for recommendations regarding earthly literature.

If he has free time, which is extremely rare, he can watch you dance.

Doesn't really approve of your willingness to kill bad people, preferring to try to resolve the conflict peacefully. However, he has to admit that sometimes this may be the only option.

Your Megatron-like traits make him remember their friendship.

Optimus greatly values your loyalty, honesty and determination.

The rest of his team takes your presence completely calmly… except that Bumblebee and Bulkhead will sometimes wonder when Ratchet will have his own human.

It's worth noting that Wheeljack will immediately join them when he meets you.

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers prime #transformers prime x reader #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus prime x reader #tfp optimus #tfp optimus x reader #optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #optimus #optimus x reader

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cryptidcorners · 5 months

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Mike Schmidt x childhood friend headcanons pls

Mike Schmidt x GN!Childhood Friend

Description: You've been friends with Mike ever since you were kids, but your relationship rippled after he moved away due to the loss of his brother Garrett. Now, you're his nextdoor neighbor. Despite Mike's graphic changes, you still hold a great care for him, and possibly more.

# requested by anon

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt (+ Abby)

Tags: Childhood Friends, Headcanons, Fluff, Reconnecting, Romantic Implications (up to your interpretation), Soft!Mike, Found Family, Comfort, Domestic, Sweet Stuff as usual.

Warnings: FNaF Movie Spoilers, Mentions of Kidnapping, Depression, Childhood Trauma & Trust Issues.

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

When you saw each other again, Mike couldn't believe his eyes, and neither could you. It had been over a decade since you two had been together, and now, you both were shyly delivering compliments and lazy stories as an attempt to rekindle your friendship.

Mike trusted you around Abby despite everything that happened in his youth, even if he hadn't seen you in years, Mike had an intense soft spot for you. Besides, Abby should know the person brought him intense joy as a kid.

You were surprised how private he was despite being incredibly outgoing before he had moved away. If you two go anywhere in public, he strays close to you. Not because it makes him feel safer, but because it eases his paranoia. Plus, Mike is a lost puppy dog when it comes to being around strangers.

Semi-affectionate. Especially with back hugs. Mike doesn't use his words too often to describe how he feels, so he'd rather express it in other ways. He also really enjoys patting your back and holding your shoulder.

Loves talking about all the shenanigans you both got up to while you were kids. Of course, you'd definitely keep it far away from Garrett territory. Anytime there's a mention of younger relatives, he gets very silent. + Mike loves listening to you to you talk.

Will buy things relating to your childhood interests. Another way he shows affection. Even if you weren't into a certain band or sitcom, he'd get it for you regardless. You probably have a mini-collection.

You're one of the rare few Mike will actually open up to. Of course, you'll probably only hear the tip of the iceberg, but you're content with him taking it slow. Speaking of which, he'd drop everything for you.

Mike loves spending time with you and Abby. Seeing you two close together makes his heart melt. Especially when Abby said you all together was like some strange family.

Something Mike enjoys is showing you around his neighborhood, or some of his favorite places to go. He's even taken you to Sparky's a couple times, somewhere you were surprised he liked (of course, he'd always go there devilishly early to avoid people and noise.)

Absolute sweetheart towards you. Due to being a huge part of his life, Mike can't bring himself to get angry at all, even if you're both in an argument. It hurts too much to get upset towards somebody so important.

You're definitely Abby's babysitter. And if Mike could, he'd pay you triple. You cannot tell me he doesn't get sad when you come over with no payment.

Loves the nicknames you give him.

Mike probably wished you could live with him, but he doesn't want you to get hurt because of him.

There are several moments you need to take care of him, whenever it's from a hard day of work or life in general. Mike always smiles when he wakes up on the couch with a blanket over him.

#💤 mike schmidt #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt fluff #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #writing #writers on tumblr #💌 request!#headcanons

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castieltrash1 · 9 months

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for the sleepover: noah when you're having a bad day...

i think the way he'd handle it differs a lot when he's younger/older, so post-war!noah will be under the cut! i hope this makes your day a little easier, anon <3

pre-war!noah x gn!reader; hurt/comfort, unspecified angst, mentions of fighting

seeing you sad is something noah loathes more than most things in life. he’s a generally sympathetic guy, even to complete strangers, but he's extra sensitive when it comes to you. if he had one wish, it’d be to make sure you never even frowned again. that’s why when you are feeling down, he’s wholly dedicated to getting a smile back on your face. he doesn’t have much to his name but he’s determined, and the devotion he has toward your happiness results in a few too many creative remedies. flowers, of course, wild and pulled straight from a field he’s taken you to for picnics before. if you’re more of a sweet tooth, he’ll spend his last dime getting your favorite candy, tying a loose ribbon around it for added effect. he’ll sing, dance, and even tell bad jokes recited directly from a brightly colored book of gags.

since he knows he can’t offer you a lot in other areas of life, noah tries to make it up to you in moments like these. if he can’t cheer you up quickly he’ll feel bad about himself, doubting his abilities to give you something as simple as happiness. of course, most of the time your negative emotions aren’t related to him at all, but that doesn’t mean he won’t internalize any sadness you do project. if you are sad about something he’s done or a situation between you two, he’s adamant about fixing it. at first, it might just seem like he wants to kick your relationship issues under the rug, but he eventually tells you that he knows life is short, and would rather spend every second he has with you feeling nothing but joy.

“we can’t just run away from this, noah! you really hurt my feelings.” swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to hold your voice steady as you confront him. “don’t you care about what i think?” you ask, feeling your skin grow warm in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, the latter of which only grows with each passing second that your boyfriend stands frowning in front of you.

“y’know i do,” noah replies, softening his tone after his earlier outburst. he takes a step closer to you with his palms outstretched, eyes wide and hopeful. “i just don’t like it when we fight. don’t see a point in all of it.”

“couples fight, noah. it’s normal.”

his lips quirk at the corners and, when you finally let him interlock his fingers with yours, a small smile spreads across his face. “can’t we just be happy instead?” you scoff, trying not to give in to his persuasive words and the way his thumb rubs gently against the back of your hand. you’re already forgetting what the fight was even about and why you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder these past few days. “c’mon, you forgive me, don’t ya?”

sighing, you pull him closer. “i really don’t know how you do it.”

“is that a yes?”

+ if you like being left alone when you’re sad, you’re dating the wrong guy. as long as you’re feeling down noah’s gonna be stuck to your side like glue no matter where you are. even if you're in the bathroom he’ll be sitting outside humming to himself, trying to strike up a conversation through the door. the last thing he wants is for you to be sad and lonely, so if he can only take care of one of those problems for now don’t expect him to be leaving anytime soon.

post-war!noah x gn!reader; hurt/comfort, unspecified angst, v slight mentions of depression/ptsd

after the war, noah’s naive, narrow view of the world and other people’s emotions within it develops into a much more mature perspective. it’s an unspoken thing, really, and he only brings it up off-handedly in rare moments that you collect over years of being with him. he’s seen and dealt with things he’d never dreamed of when he was younger and the effects of those situations are obvious in the way he treats you; especially if you knew him before and can see a direct contrast to his previously blind optimism.

instead of trying to “fix” your bad mood, noah just lets you embrace it. he knows that sometimes there isn’t much to do but ride out the wave of emotions until it subsides. of course, he’ll do whatever he can to make your day even a little easier, but he won’t let you feel guilty for wallowing in it either. sure, he can show some tough love, but he’s a real softie for you! he'll only lash out if your negativity is targeted toward him specifically, otherwise, he sees no reason to add to your already lousy day. when he is the problem, well, the sight of your tears is enough for him to drop his grudge (eventually.)

“we spendin’ all day in bed?” noah asks, the mattress sinking slightly as he sits beside your curled-up form. “'s beautiful outside.” when you peer over the comforter to look at him, you find his gaze already fixated on the view from your bedroom window, a hint of a smile hiding beneath his untamed beard. the normally cheerful tune of the birds' morning call only serves to remind you of your own lingering sadness, and you let out a heavy sigh.

“right, well…” noah shifts, and you close your eyes, waiting for the sound of the door closing behind him as he goes to start his day. “c’mon, darling, scooch over.” instead, his rough palm pats your hip, determination clear in his steady tone.

you sit up a little, brows furrowing. “aren’t you gonna go out?”

he shakes his head, crawling under the various quilts and blankets thrown across your bed the second you give him enough space. “and leave you here to mope all by yourself?” his fingers dig into your sides, urging you closer until he can press a ticklish kiss to your bare shoulder. “nah…” the gentle touch of his lips lingers and he only continues once you’ve settled against him. “i think i can stay a while longer.”

+ noah is, underneath all the bluntness, surprisingly rational. if your bad mood is the result of a less-than-ideal situation, he’s a great man to have talk you through it. he’ll take you out for a drive, boat ride, or even just a walk, letting you rant about whatever is bothering you before offering his own advice. as long as you take it with a grain of salt, and execute the delivery with a bit more decorum, his suggestions can be a lot of help!

gosling sleepover sunday (no longer taking requests!)

#noah calhoun #ryan gosling #the notebook #noah calhoun x reader #noah calhoun fluff #the notebook fluff #t: writing #answered #anonymous

236 notes · View notes

sunkissedchldrecon · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one is the new jeans CD, pile two is NCT, and so on and so forth.

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don’t be afraid to say if the message resonated or not. it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it’s “bad”.

good luck to you, reader 💿

𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝚰𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒:

this PAC includes mentions of specific celebrities! this is in an attempt to describe the energy of each pile.

in one pile's moodboard example, i use a tweet from stan twitter to visualize how one's fandom might be. i don't necessarily agree with the example tweet, but it was a good example of the pile's energy, so i used it. it doesn't imply or show my true feelings about that fandom or artist.

additionally, sections of this PAC make reference to adult topics such as sex, drugs, alcohol, addiction, and more. please use your discretion when reading your or each pile.

𝐈

Your Playlist:

Cards:

Queen of Swords, The Fool, Four of Wands, Two of Coins

King of Wands (Rx), Ten of Cups, Eight of Cups (Rx), The Devil, Four of Coins, Nine of Coins

Page of Coins, The Emperor

Knight of Swords (Rx), Ten of Swords, King of Swords, Page of Cups

The Star

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be soloists.

the music you make would be hard-hitting and active! tons of choreography would be involved, and you'd make people want to learn your dances even if they weren't professional dancers! a significant amount of your songs might even go viral on platforms like tiktok. your music would be a fresh breath into the music industry; you would probably write your own songs and not be afraid to venture into a variety of music genres. you might do surprise releases (like beyoncé did with her self-titled album)! you'd gain tons of success with your works, so much so that you'd end up throwing celebration parties often due to it! you might find it hard to keep up with so much work (you're probably booked and busy with interviews, concerts, promotions, etc.), but you also love the lifestyle, and that energy shows through the music you make.

in your musical career, you may come off as some sort of diva who knows how to talk their way to success. you come off as someone who has a great personal and professional life. you would have the type of career and life others' dream of having. you may stay in a healthy relationship. again, most of your songs would be upbeat and about happiness - which may be a breath of fresh air in relation to more emotional, heavy music. as you continue throughout your career, you may lean towards that emotional music because of depression or life struggles. you may be worried about the future of your career after your "prime". this might be after a period of time of years of hard work and seemingly little rest; you might fall into addictions to materialism, drugs, or alcohol. you will be protected though! people will be looking out for you and steer you back onto the right path which will keep you from going downhill.

your fans would look up to you a lot. it's giving "these are my kids" energy. you may pay off their student loans or even party with some of them on a night out if you see them. you might appeal to a younger crowd - teens, college, and early adults. your fans see you as fair and as a pillar of authority. they look to you to determine how to move and act as a fandom. you act as the compass for order in their eyes. whatever you say to do, they will do. want to win a specific award? your fans will make sure they buy enough albums and vote enough for you to win it. want to collab with a specific artist? your fans will flood that person's timeline to make sure you two interact. it's almost like they fulfill your wishes! it reminds me of the saying ARMYs have about "anything yoongi wants, yoongi gets".

the general public may have some conflict with you. some people may be prejudiced towards you (maybe because of race, gender, sexuality). some of the public will be hasty to judge you and bash you. this feeling will change fairly quickly. the public will realize they were wrong to judge you and feel horrible about what they did. some people may pray for your downfall and instead bring their own because it's like negativity towards you is reflected back on those who want to harm you; this goes back to you being heavily protected. in the end, the general public will see you as trustworthy and fair. some will think you're very innovative and great at executing your creative ideas. you could become a county's favorite artist. kind of like how Girls Generation is seen as the "Nation's Girl Group'' in South Korea - that would be your title as a soloist. the general public would end up doting over you and loving you.

𝐈𝐈

Your Playlist:

Cards:

Knight of Swords, The Devil, Four of Wands (Rx), The Hermit

Four of Coins, Five of Cups, King of Wands

The Moon (Rx), The Sun

Page of Coins, The Emperor (Rx)

Ace of Coins

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be in a musical group.

you'd probably be the main rapper in this group. your group's music would be fast-paced and energetic. tons of choreography and you all would do major concept changes often. you all would also travel often or experiment with different cultural music. your sound would be bold - you might talk about taboo topics (ie. addiction, sex, violence, obsessions, death). your music might get spoiled before release. there may also be some times when the album is expected to debut on a certain day, and it isn't released until later - maybe because of music clearances or lack of preparation. your music would force people to confront difficult life topics instead of ignoring them. you all would also help people with mental health issues because they relate to the music so well.

your group would achieve a ton, but i still think your company would be a little tight on finances. your company may be cutting it close to making payments on time, but you and the other members would be financially stable. the company would stay afloat, but it's like they struggle with money management maybe? you also would have a strong fanbase and a strong personal group sound (even while exploring so many genres). i feel like your company's struggles would impact the group and bring down morale. you all would have good successes but it's like your company takes you one step forward and three steps back. regardless, you all pushing through would just create more inspiration for music which in turn makes your fans appreciate and relate to you all more.

i feel like fans would feel very protective and proud of you. the mismanagement of funds happening within the company would be revealed to the fans and public, but your fandom still has fierce loyalty to you all. they outwardly call out the mismanagement and want better for you all. you might have a lot of sasaengs because of fans' fierce loyalty to you. specific to you, fans may feel like you're very masculine or heavily into you masculine energy. you may be seen as the "sunshine" of the group. people look to you for happiness; there may be tons of compilations of your funny moments. you're like a light to a room to your fans and others.

the general public learns a lot from you all. that sounds nice, but i think they mostly learn how not to run a company. you all definitely start important societal conversations on taboo topics like explained before, but that really gets overshadowed by company misadventures. people may see your company as young and maybe ignorant of how to be run? they'll feel like your company is abusing their power. you all may not get tons of promotion, so you may only be known to the public for your company's failures.

𝐈𝐈𝐈

Your Playlist:

Cards:

Six of Swords, Nine of Wands (Rx), Three of Coins (Rx), Page of Swords

Knight of Wands (Rx), King of Cups, Page of Cups (Rx), Three of Cups, Nine of Coins (Rx)

Five of Swords (Rx), Five of Coins, Five of Cups (Rx), Knight of Swords (Rx)

The Hierophant, Three of Wands (Rx), Six of Cups (Rx)

The Wheel of Fortune

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be in a musical group.

you'd probably be a vocalist. your music would have a theme all throughout your discography. it would be very consistent, and the albums would play beautifully altogether. each song would fade into the other and almost seem like a movie with just music. people may think you steal songs or there might be plagiarism controversies. someone from the group might be ousted, and that may be talked about in the music or hang over the group for a long time. this might be connected to the music you make in that your group isn't afraid to talk about being left behind and having to forge your own journey. someone in the group may be lazy.

i think your group might break up, and you become a soloist? then, you'd be left to prove your worth in the music industry. you would come out on top, and let people know that you have a message that you're getting out regardless of the struggles you have to go through in order for it to be heard. i think ultimately you'll be left to work behind the scenes in the music industry - maybe as a songwriter or producer. it'll be the situation of people wanting to hear your words and you wanting to get them out, but it only materializes when it's told through someone else if that makes sense.

your group career would be very messy. again, some members would be lazy; others would have bad attitudes and either be jealous and even violent. there's tons of in-fighting between members, and it's a major mess for everyone involved. you personally will not be like that though! you'd be the member others feel like they can trust and confide in. you're insightful and might even protect your members who are being bullied or on the receiving end of jealousy. similarly to pile two, your group's album would experience delays - due to plagiarism, samples not being cleared, lazy members, etc.

your group produces music that's similar to what you all would be experiencing - troubled and emotional youth, manipulation, moodiness, immaturity, and unrequited love. despite all the in-group issues, you all would experience success for a time! ultimately, it will go away due to company mismanagement and all the group issues coming to light.

fans might not like you because of what messy group members say about you. they'll say you're attention seeking and manipulative even though it's other members doing those exact things and NOT you. you might feel isolated because of the hate you receive. you may think no one likes you, and you might stare off during interviews because you're being ignored. you'd feel really lonely. as you keep going, you will gain strength and feel confident enough in the fact that you know you're a good person despite others believing the opposite. you'll know your truth is more grounding that others' lies. i think this is what will ultimately lead to you preferring to be behind the scenes rather than in the light of the music industry.

i don't think the general public will hate you as much as fans seem to. the general public would be way more understanding of circumstances and would be willing to hear your side of the story rather than blindly believing you members. you'd have a major impact on the collective, and you might even become an expert in whatever you do behind the scenes. i think people will see that you were used by the machine called the music industry and would feel for you. i also think the public would pick up on the fact that you eventually feel unsure about your musical abilities. they'll see you as disorganized because of how the industry left you. your past would be at the forefront of the general public's mind, so it would be best for you to work behind the scenes, so the music can speak for itself rather than you speaking for the music.

𝐈𝐕

Your Playlist:

Cards:

Five of Swords (Rx), Queen of Coins (Rx), Six of Wands, Strength

Queen of Wands, Knight of Wands (Rx), The Magician, The Hanged Man (Rx)

Page of Swords, King of Swords, Three of Wands

The Star (Rx), Seven of Cups

Four of Cups

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐦

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be in a musical group.

you'd probably be a main dancer and a vocalist (but not a main vocal). your group's music would be shocking. it would deal with topics like manipulation, gossip, paranoia, and the theme might revolve around uncovering secrets and overcoming those who want to harm you. almost like a horror concept! i'm slightly reminded of xdinary heroes or even rage against the machine. your music would seek to uncover immorality in the world and put it in the face of society instead of trying to hide it like we've been taught to. super unique concept! your listeners get the feeling that they can uncover and fight through anything after listening to your music. the music is very strong (maybe even in the rock genre for some of you), and there's a confidence in the music (including sexual confidence).

there's strong sexual themes in your music. femme fatale and dominatrix vibes are present. this group would be filled with strong female figures who are confident in who they are. in some instances, you all want to be seen as arrogant in order to provide a view of women that's not often seen in the music scene - at least not in a way where women are in control of their own power. this group would play off of gender stereotypes and archetypes in order to make a point to society. again, super creative concepts, and it might even include the occult! like divination tools might be seen in the background of some of your music videos. the point is to show young women that they can be powerful and also know when to hold back in order to show all sides of that power.

your fans might be on the younger side - teens and young adults. they will like giving you handmade messages and gifts. it's almost giving you being the older sibling, and your fans are the younger sibling who looks up to you. they learn a lot about themselves from you, and see you as this intellectual that has great creative ideas. they also see you as just and fair and might come to you for advice. they may see their future selves in you and look up to you because of that. both of you have tons of love for one another (it's so cute!).

the general public may not really like you. you may disappoint them because there's this societal view they have of how gender roles should be enforced or how your group should behave, and you all totally go against that. it's like they're thinking "that group would help themselves out if they just followed with the standards. they make it hard on themselves". they see you all as immoral and a bad influence on the younger society. they also see you all as delusional.

reader's note: do not think of the general public's view as a bad thing! personally, it's important to remember that change only comes when society is forced to confront irrational and prejudicial thinking. if anything, the general public viewing you as this is a compliment in my opinion.

𝐕

Your Playlist:

Cards:

The Lovers, Eight of Swords, The Emperor, Queen of Coins, The Star

The High Priestess, Ten of Cups, Knight of Swords

Five of Cups, Six of Wands, The Hermit

The Chariot

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be in a musical group.

you'd be the face of the group/the center - maybe a visual position? your group focuses on love songs and relationships. you all would talk about all the ups and downs of creating, maintaining, and losing relationships. i feel like on the outside, the concepts of each title track might be visually very different, but the major theme of relationships would always be present. for example, there would be a very rosy and cheery song about how in love you all are in a romantic relationship (like a Twice title track), and then your next comeback would be more solemn and serious about how you lost a loved family member or something like that (like what's mentioned in DaBaby's "Gucci Peacoat"). you all would have long lasting careers and be seen as good senior musicians. you all would probably be very personally involved in the music making process. your music would be very comforting and relatable for whoever listens to it. i think you'd give many people hope when it comes to handling relationships.

i feel like the group's music heavily focuses on emotional connections - so much so that spiritual and occult elements might be present in the process or music videos and things of that nature. your group might be seen as mysterious outside of the music you all make. it's like you all are only focused on the music aspect in the public eye and don't really reveal a ton about your deep personal lives (like siblings or TMIs or things like that). you all really want to emphasize the music! you and your group members would be very close in personal and professional life! you all may feel more like family members rather than friends which will translate into the music. it's like you all will recognize that you'd achieved your dreams all together and you would cherish one another greatly for that. you all may be internationally famous or gather fame quickly - maybe as soon as you debut! it also may be super easy for you all to make and release music.

i get very despondent energy from your fans for some reason? they may frequently feel disappointed with you all - maybe because of how different title tracks and aesthetics can change for you all? it could also be that they're the type of fans that are always focused on how much bigger you all could be, so they never stop to appreciate how far you all have come and therefore they seem ungrateful. they will eventually get over this though! so maybe in the beginning they feel disappointed about how little known and unappreciated you all are, but when you blow up they feel very proud of your successes and feel like all of yours and their effort has paid off. your fans will look to you for guidance and support when it comes to mental health issues and gain personal strength from you. they may like how withdrawn you and your group can be when it comes to disclosing personal information.

i didn't get any cards when shuffling to ask how the general public would view you. i only got the bottom of the deck energy which was The Chariot. i feel like this means your success will be so widespread it's hard to contain how the public views you to a couple tarot cards that may give a more in-depth explanation. they'll see you and your group as having great drive and ambition that leads you all to great success despite a long, uphill battle that comes with pursuing a musical career. i feel like they'd be especially impressed because you all come from a small company? it's like you all started from the absolute bottom to become major stars, and the public finds that admirable.

𝐕𝐈

Your Playlist:

Cards:

Nine of Cups, The Emperor, Four of Cups, Five of Wands, Six of Wands, The Empress

The Sun, The Fool, Five of Coins (Rx), Three of Wands, Knight of Coins, Four of Swords, Knight of Cups

Three of Cups (Rx), Strength, Page of Coins

The High Priestess (Rx), Five of Swords, The Star, Six of Swords

Ace of Coins

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐠𝐲𝐧𝐲

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be a soloist.

off bat, you'd be super successful! i get the feeling you'd always be happy, and that might translate into your music. you may encourage listeners to be happy and invite abundance and gratefulness into their own lives the way you welcomed it into yours. i think you'd be very hands-on with your music, and you'd take the reins in everything you do - i'm almost reminded of beyoncé and how people view her as a perfectionist about her work. despite your perfectionist tendencies, you'd definitely be open to others' ideas, and you'd be nice to work with. people wouldn't have a bad word to say about you in that aspect. you'd be super hypnotic as a celebrity, so people would totally be drawn to you. i think you'd be open about all the "goods" and "bads" of fame. you'd talk about how financial abundance and overflowing love from people is very enticing, but isn't all it's cracked up to be. you'd be open about your struggles, and people would find that refreshing and admire you for your honesty. i think your spirit guides would be guiding you to and throughout fame because you were destined for it. you'd be spiritually protected.

you'd exude energy and success in your music. you might even make perfect manifestation music! your music would be very original, and i believe you'd write music directly from your heart. you wouldn't worry about being "too vulnerable" because you want to be because it's like that's the essence of music for you. you take setbacks from your life and still find hope in them in order to take good from the indecipherable bad. i think that's what would make your music most unique. you'd treat music as your past, present, and future and because of how close you hold it to your heart, it becomes obvious in your music. the point of your music is to show personal growth, and people would connect with that immediately. i also think relationships and romance would be important in your music since your emotions would always be in your songwriting. your breakups, makeups, and new connections would always be written and released to the public - i'm reminded of Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande.

fans (or maybe more so the general public?) may see you like the two artists i just mentioned are viewed - promiscuous, always in a relationship, and maybe even excessive and overindulgent in life and financial endeavors. others will say that you're confident in yourself and your sexuality and find that empowering. they see you as someone who is secure in themself and doesn't need public approval to do whatever you want. there's a subtle, grand confidence in you that people see. your fans may want to be like you and be students of you, writing your every word down. you might be popular with teens and young adults.

the general public will see you as someone who is secretive and doing shady things behind the scenes. they'll feel like your energy and personality is too good to be true. they'll say you're immoral and maybe even involved with the illuminati or something like that. some might even say you're misusing spirituality or witchcraft to get your fame. people would want to speak negatively on you and cause you distress; they might often engage in smear campaigns to lower your credibility. for others, you give them hope. overall, people's negative intentions will not matter because, as said before, you'd be heavily spiritually protected. you'll be able to brush off smear campaigns and negative, false publicity very easily. your foundation is too strong to be broken by bullies and those who are so miserable in their own lives they push it onto others.

𝐕𝐈𝐈

Your Playlist:

Cards:

Knight of Swords, King of Coins, The High Priestess (Rx), Three of Cups (Rx)

Ten of Swords, Nine of Swords (Rx), Three of Wands, Knight of Coins

Queen of Cups, Ten of Cups (Rx), The Fool, Page of Cups

Five of Cups, Five of Wands, King of Wands (Rx)

Judgment

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be a soloist.

you'd be very involved in the musical process. you'd likely write most (if not, all) of your music. anything you make is sure to be a hit. you're ambitious with your ideas, and you're quick to create and hop onto new trends. i get the feeling you wouldn't trust your musical abilities despite how they always seem to work out for you. maybe you need a ton of outside support to finally decide "okay, this is a good idea". you might even be older than expected when you become a musical artist. you might feel unfulfilled in life in general and especially in the music industry despite your successes. you might spend way more money than you have, or you might just flaunt your wealth excessively. you might rely on drugs, alcohol, or sexual adventures as an escape from your feelings of loneliness. it seems you'd be successful but unhappy.

your music may include information about the traumas you have. whatever is causing you to turn to your addictions will be explicitly mentioned in the music you put out. a lot of your music may mention themes like grief, depression, and hardship. it's like your music allows for you to constantly relive your traumatic experiences and that makes it hard for you to heal or create different thematic content if that makes sense. i think once you gained success you thought you would be happy, but it only made it worse because you realized fame and money does not automatically bring happiness. ultimately, i think those around you will urge you to gain confidence and help you to know you're on the right path. you'd slowly but surely become more emotionally stable and start traveling more and feeling more happiness.

your fans would see you as very in tune with your intuition and femininity or feminine energy. they'd see you as caring, sensitive, and emotional. i think that's because those are the elements you use to make your music. they also see you as wildly artistic and creative. they might feel like you come up with music and ideas that no one else would even think of. they'd see you as an innovator. i also think they'd see you as broken or coming from traumatic and undesirable circumstances. i think they'd recognize and feel your pain. they'd view your life in the music industry and your fame as a new beginning for you and would see it as a chance for you to be free from what's hurt you. they might like writing out their love for you through social media campaigns or through giving you handwritten letters. they'd see you as someone who is constantly growing and learning, and they'd feel happy seeing you happy.

the general public may have wishy-washy feelings towards you. they might find out about your addictions and feel disappointed with you. some people will feel empathetic and recognize how your misfortunes affect you and may have the view of "oh, it's horrible that they went through that. i hope they no longer do that and start feeling better and happier". others will feel like you're selfish and didn't appreciate what you were given if you engaged in your addictions while you were successful. they might think "they gained all that money and fame, so why even go down the route of addiction? they were just wallowing in their sadness". very different points of view, so the general public would feel split on their feelings towards you overall.

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

Your Playlist:

Cards:

Ten of Coins, King of Wands, Five of Wands, Temperance, Four of Wands

Nine of Swords (Rx), The Emperor (Rx), Five of Swords, Three of Cups

The Devil (Rx), King of Coins, Six of Cups

Ten of Wands, The Hanged Man

Knight of Coins

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬; 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

Reading:

those who chose this pile would be a soloist.

you might be discovered purely by "chance". maybe you posted a song cover on YouTube or became popular on TikTok, and a label decided to pick you up. your music may have to do with your personal life like your family, how you gained your fame, your life history, and things of that nature. your music would be very motivational and strong. you may be very specific about your aesthetic and visuals because you want to stand out among the artist-filled industry. you would be super competitive when it came to the music game. you might be a rapper? i feel like you'd focus a ton on things like word-play. you also might like making society and listeners think about life, society, and spirituality/their life purpose. i'm reminded of artists like Jhene Aiko and J. Cole. you'd benefit a lot from your fame.

you may be a perfectionist about your craft. you might miss out on healthy sleeping and eating patterns while working on an album. you may love the idea of working yourself until you can't work anymore. you see the struggle of work as a labor of birthing these creative ideas and appreciate each time you can create something new. i know i mentioned earlier that a record label may have wanted to pick you up, but i think you might prefer to be an independent artist. you wouldn't want to be confined to company standards and expectations; you would want to focus on the music. people and companies may want you to fail because of this. they may intentionally block your music from being played on the radio or from being nominated for awards. despite this, you would still gain success from you giving to others and others finding your energy welcoming. a strong group (could be your fans or the collective) would ensure your success.

your fans would see you as someone that breaks free from the societal mold. they'd see you as someone that knows how to think for themselves even if the group wants them to think differently. they also see you as someone that knows how to keep going and growing when shit hits the fan. you'd be seen as someone that doesn't allow for life circumstances to bring them down. they'd see you as a successful business person who has the perfect ear for music and eyes for aesthetics. they may also see you as someone that is very guided spiritually. they can tell someone is watching over you to be sure you succeed in the industry.

the general public would see you as someone who made something from nothing. they may not view you as this huge, international superstar, but you would be somewhat known. some parts of the population would be able to recognize you from a photo or from the mention of your name. some of the public may feel like you're delusional in what you're trying to achieve (especially if you're an independent artist going against big companies). i think the general public would also be able to tell that you're spiritually guided and protected. parts of the public will like that you give a fresh perspective to them and the rest of society. you could begin an idea shift in the collective.

#tarot #oracle #pick a card #PAC #Spotify

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viaviv124 · 20 days

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Cotl Orphan AU

So bc i would never in a million years finish writing this as a fic i'll just write everything i have so far here so its out of my head and y'all can also do whatever you want with it. This will be a long ass post so get a drink and get cozy. Of course i won't get on full Detail like characterizations etc, in this post at least, so feel free to ask questions! I'd love to answer them!

This post includes content warnings for all sorts of very dark topics, but especially murder, body horror, torture, cannibalism, suicide, depression, slightly implied sexual abuse, implied abuse in general and other stuff like that. If you're sensible to this please click off or proceed with caution.

It all starts with 5 siblings, Shamura(16), Kallamar(14), Narinder(13), Heket(10) and Leshy(8). When Leshy was barely able to walk they ended up on the streets because one of their parents killed the other before taking their own life. They struggled a lot but they got by.

One day, when Narinder was out looking for food, he found an injured lamb, around his age, in an ally. They seemed starved and the life had already left their eyes as they barely managed to look up at him. Being unable to just leave them there he knelt down to them, ripped off parts of his own clothes to wrap around them as makeshift bandages and left them all the food he gathered so far whilst telling them to keep living, that they shouldnt have to die like this. Once making sure the lamb will be fine alone he left, thinking he can just collect some more food anyway.

Around 3 - 4 years pass and in that time 4 of the siblings were gravely injured. Shamura suffered a devistating blow to the head from someone they stole food from, cracking their skull just enough to keep them alive but also to damage the brain. Kallamar's ears were ripped off by other homeless people that succumbed to insanity. Heket's throat was slit by an older, privileged child who thought it was funny after Heket expressed that she didn't want anything to do with them. Leshy's eyes were all shot during a heist, requiring his siblings to gouge out the remains. It's unclear how they survived all that. From then on the siblings, espacially Narinder, decided that murder is okay and justified if necessary.

More years pass and they reach their current ages. Due to a dispute they're chased out of the current ally they lived in for a long time. Now they're on the search for a new home, but it's very hard. Once they're on the other side of town, where they've never been before, yet still unable to find a suitable place especially Shamura starts to despair, blaming themself internally for being unable to help their siblings. Narinder and Kallamar do their best to try and reassure them.

One night, as they're wandering, they get found by a lamb dressed in rags, covered in scars and dirt and wearing a bag, they're around Narinder's age, who smiles kindly at them and offers a hand, promising a secure home and food. All of the siblings distrust this child, however out of necessity Shamura feels forced to accept the offer, they take the lambs hand. The lamb's smile turns gentler as they introduce themself as Belphy before starting to lead the way.

Belphy leads them to an old, abandoned factory at the outskirts of town, in which are several children of various ages and states, some coming to greet Belphy and asking if they brought new friends. At first the siblings don't trust anyone, keeping to eachother instead of interacting with the others, however eventually Leshy starts to get along with a yellow cat barely younger than him and with a missing arm. Heket becomes friends a bunny girl, who's quite the oddball, detesting touch in one moment and then clinging to Heket the next. Seeing their siblings get along with the other children Shamura and Kallamar also slowly start interacting with the others. However, Narinder only really socializes with Belphy, as they seem to cling to him whenever they're not busy. Seeing them first as an annoyance, Narinder soon learns to trust and appreciate this strange lamb. He also learns that this is the lamb he helped many years ago, being the leading cause of Belphy helping other children in need too.

However, Narinder notices some very odd behaviour from Belphy. He can't say what exactly it is, but it bothers him. But no matter how often he decides to trail them when they go out, they seem to always be a step ahead of him, greeting him with a sweet smile and going home with him before he could even get a rough glance of anything the lamb was doing. Whenever he asks questions Belphy smoothly avoids them or tells him not to worry about it, that everything is fine and nothing's out of the ordinary. Narinder can't help but get a bit scared, though. Because as nice and sweet as the lamb is, whatever they hide, he knows they must hide something, must be horrifying.

But one day, on the day he finds out. This time he wasn't even trailing Belphy, he was just out on a walk of his own when he suddenly heard a scream. He hid behind the corner and glanced into the back ally, having never seen something so horrifying before. In the ally was a bloodbath, Belphy in the middle of it, surrounded by two or three gruesomely mutilated corpses. Belphy licked the blood off their hand with a terrifyingly satisfied smile as the black knife in their other hand turned into a black snake with only a red eye as a face and curled around their arm, conveniantly hidden under the fleece. Confused by the transformation of the knife-snake they looked at their arm "Hmm? What was that for? I'm not done yet." As they look up again their eyes meet Narinders and Narinders blood runs cold as he freezes. His heart beats up and almost out of his chest as Belphys smile softens and they walk torwards him, covered in blood. The closer Belphy gets, the faster and louder Narinders heart beats as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Despite his expectations Belphy just gently cups his face, pulls his head down to their height and leans their forehead against his. They gently caress him and with a soft and gentle voice they attempt to soothe him, telling him that everything is okay, that he is okay and that he doesnt have to be scared. They tell him to breathe. To Narinders own surprise this works unexpectedly well and he manages to steady his breathing and calm down a little, however once he can move again he moves away from Belphy, opening his eyes only for a glare as his fear turns to fury. Narinder hisses not to touch him.

Belphy smiles and puts their hands in the air to show they're not a threat, the snake, now more exposed, stares at Narinder. When Narinder demands answers, Belphy complies with no hesitation.

They tell him that the snake found Belphy several years ago, not too long after their first encounter with Narinder. It said it needed blood and if Belphy provides it'll help them in turn too. So as proof it turned into a black crown with its red eye in the middle, its true form it said, and sat on Belphys head, healing every wound as good as it could it its weakened state. Once Belphy agreed to do it the crown now turned into a combat knife. Belphy only ever kills adults. When they first killed they let out all their pain and sorrows, following the crown's advice to make it easier, and as a result they came to like it. Torturing and killing adults, the ones that made their life so horrible in the first place. Now these despicable creatures are at their mercy as they scream and cry in pain, just like the lamb did too, before taking their lifes at last. Over the years they also grew fond of the taste of their victim's blood and flesh, what once was a necessity now was a guilty pleasure, allthough, they added, they cannot stand the smell.

Belphy reassures Narinder, who is a mix of heavily disturbed and (for reasons he doesnt quite understand) somewhat unfazed, that they won't ever harm him, the other children and his siblings, not now and not when they're all grown. They also make him promise to please not tell anyone, not even his siblings, before suggesting he can help them if he'd like.

With that Narinder is now Belphys partner in crime. He did come with them on a few massacres, he calls it that because of how messy Belphy is, and whilst he's still somewhat disturbed, mainly by Belphy's cannibalistic tendencies and a level of merciless sadism he didn't expect of them considering their sweet and gentle demeanour, he can't help but admit that he also bears a deep rooted spite for adults and that this is a great way to vent all this pain, it made him discover he might also be more sadistic than he thought. Maybe murder for fun was okay and not just a necessity.

Yet all of this still bothered him. Deep inside he was not only scared of Belphy but also himself. Shamura noticed Narinder's off behaviour and after weeks, maybe months, of observing him they finally asked what's going on. Narinder's deep trust in Shamura makes him forget about the promise he made and so he tells the everything. Everything about Belphy, the murders, his own sadistic tendencies, his fears and worries about all of this. Shamura didn't say much about it. They just held him close as he spoke.

It took less than a day for Belphy to find out. They're not happy. And Narinder is going to feel the consequences of a broken promise. Some cuts and bruises, maybe a broken bone or two, but nothing more than a severed finger. They care too much about him to do more. They cant bring themself to do more. So this'll do. It should teach Narinder to keep a promise next time.

They did it. They hurt him. As much as they hate seeing him scared, him accepting their embrace for comfort afterwards was very nice, considering how often he told them to not touch him. Maybe they'll ask the crown to heal Narinder, the message they wanted to send seemed to arrive so there's no need for him to be in even more pain.

AND THATS ALL I HAVE FOR NOW :D Thank you so much reading through this! If you have any questions about the AU and characters etc, feel free to ask!!

#cotl #cotl au #cotl orphan AU #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl shamura #cotl kallamar #cotl heket #cotl leshy #leshy x yellow cat #sorta #its background within the AU but not really mentioned here because this is just plot #cult of the lamb

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ghostieeeee · 9 months

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑: 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: not entirely proofread, swearing

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Half annoyed, you let out a gusty sigh, feeling your eyes roll slightly at the younger girl's words. It was true. You had gotten lost. You had asked several other students for directions, and each time, you wanted to cripple into a ball and cry at the awkward interactions. You had gotten so far off track at one point that you had actually found yourself in the hospitality sector on the campus, the furthest possible sector from the music department. But finally, you find the large automatic doors, painted with the reoccurring shade of a dull grey- a distasteful sign casted from the overhang of its roof.

Gently shoving your phone into the wide of your pocket, provided by your large hoodie, you continue with your leisurely walk. The doors open upon the sensory of movement and you're greeted with the warmth of the school's generous heating units. It felt nice, stepping out of the November chill and into a downpour of heat. It nuzzled you, embracing you with a welcoming hug. You almost stop to bask in it, and you would've done, if you weren't running thin on time.

The corridors were mostly empty with the exception of a few dotted students, exhausted from the day's learning as they drag their personal instruments down the halls. One boy carrying the weight of his keyboard between the muscles of his right arm and ribs while two females gossip their way out just behind him, carrying their own guitars in their respective acoustic guitar bags.

Walls were strictly highlighted with music notes and sheets, and at the end of the corridor, it was easy to depict a trophy case made of a stainless steel material. Its shelves were clustered with a tight huddle of picture frames, certificates, and trophies alike. It shines with a jazzier look in comparison to the rest of the interior, standing out amongst the doors that line the walls and quotes plastered above each small locker.

Your eyes move to skim the number on each door, recalling the mental note that Haerin has pretty much engraved into your skull. Each door you passed only added to the outcome of Room 402, a rather depressing build-up to the grand reveal as you push your way past the door.

The inside was practically an organised mess. Sections of the room were dedicated to various instruments from different families, and although the room was well lit, shadows still remained prominent beside every piece of furniture.

What made it worse was the almost derelict feel the room radiated. Limited chairs were sprawled around the room, with only four individuals occupying a select amount. None of which were Haerin either.

There were three males seated by the windows, clearly unfocused as they gush about girls, obviously staring at the only other female noticeable in the room. She has a taller figure, surprisingly noticeable in even just the way she sits. Her fingers are locked gently around the neck of her guitar as she stares back at you.

You gulp at her beauty, feeling almost intimidated as her dark eyes prick at your skin. You divert your gaze before you could even get a good look at her, not wanting to make the situation anymore worse than it already was, and instead, the small of a ginger scalp makes an appearance amongst the sea of puks towards the further end of the classroom.

Bowing your head, you waltz past the female at the front and navigate your way around the room. Your hands remain strictly by your sides as the feeling of being watched drapes upon you. But you could see the three boys, and they certainly weren't looking at you. And the girl up ahead seemed too preoccupied with her phone, completely out of touch with reality as she taps furiously at the screen.

You could tell this was Haerin from the hoodie alone. It was one of many she stole from you a few years ago, back in high school. You cough,"Haerin"

"Y/n," she simultaneously responds, eyes still heavily glued to the pixelation of her phone screen. It was as if her voice was set to autopilot.

"What do you need help with?" It takes Haerin a couple of seconds to realise what you said, her eyes almost sparkling as she looks up at you, finally. "Oh! I need you to stay here and guard my puk"

"Why…" it felt weird to ask, but at the same time, it was a weird request. Never in your life have you had to guard a puk before. "I need to print some sheets off and those bastards of humans over there." she nods in the direction of the three boys, "like to ruin my shit"

"Why didn't you print these sheets out earlier?"

"Because some dickhead likes to waste all the ink as soon as they refill it" she lightly snarls at the thought, quickly checking the time before abruptly standing up "I have five minutes, I won't be long. Just don't let the Penis Partners get near"

"Penis Partners?" You mumble, your mind trying to warp around the context of the nickname.

However, before you can question her further, she's already darted out the door, leaving it to slowly slide shut again.

Feeling defeated, you let a sigh erupt from your throat, slipping from the soft of your lips as you find a place to sit amongst the floor, pulling out your phone again, and open your messages.

Stifling a laugh, possibly a snort, you brush your hair out of your face, your mind instantly daring to ponder upon the endless possibilities of what kind of excuse the latter of your friends would use. Hyein has many options, and with a mind as wild as hers, you find yourself half sure that she could think of something reasonably believable… or not.

Her unpredictability sometimes leads her to sticky situations. You would know better than anyone else, having to step in like a mother to fix her mess. You've lost count of just how many times you've scrubbed and cleaned her high school record raw and taken the blame and punishment to save her from getting in any kind of trouble.

You've explained how no amount of apologies and thanks could ever ease you though, that you'll always be there to trash the remains of her crumbs no matter what.

Hyein understood that you were coming from a place of need, that you needed to feel responsible for someone, that you needed to be able to care for someone, and since she had no siblings, it was practically a perfect fit. You saw her as a little sister, evidently, and the protective instinct in you had become quite acquainted with the world.

Or maybe it was a place of fear, as Hyein has often questioned late at night. Maybe you've grown to have a fear of letting her down. Since Hyein has made it quite apparent that she looks up to you more and more throughout the course of your five year friendship, maybe you've grown quite frightful of the possibility of not being able to protect her from the harmful ways of this world- even if they are self-inflicted in this case.

You know what her parents are like. They're identical to hawks when it comes to her school record, and god forbade a single scuff on it. A single grade C could cause all the commotion in that house, despite it still being a passing grade. So, naturally speaking, you took one for the team and placed yourself at the centre of attention. You earned titles you wore with pride, no matter how bad they were, because at the end of the day, you were fulfilling your need, oppressing your fears and allowing such a pure soul to continue living her life without consequence. Sometimes, just sometimes, Hyein could swear that your whole personality shines through your superhero suit.

"Hey," the soft lul of a voice drags you back to reality, your eyes trailing from the gone silent group chat to the white shoes a couple of feet away. Continuing your way up, your eyes trailing along the ripped of the person's lower jeans and the light of their top, half hidden behind the contrast of a green and red dyed flannel shirt until finally, you greet their face.

It was the same girl from earlier, the one that previously sat at the front of the class, the one that you could've sworn was staring you down, the one that quipped your interest the most.

The moment seemed to drag on as you only admired her features, taking note of every curve of her face. From the dark of her eyes and the natural makeup look to the plush of her lips and the smooth of her skin. She looked too pretty to be standing before you, looking down at you with a small "hey" for a casual greeting.

She coughs lightly, clearly having caught on to your expressionless state,"Can I sit here?" You fumble for a second, scooting over so she wouldn't be so squished between you and the shell of a violin. You listen as she moves, her shoes slightly scuffing the carpeted floor as she sits cross-legged beside you, her hands retreating to her lap. "Yunjin"

"Excuse me?" Your brain doesn't click with the name, feeling slightly lost over it.

"My name, I'm Yunjin," she smiles at the small "oh" you sigh out, laughing lightly at your own awkwardness. "Y/n… my name, I'm y/n." She jokingly rolls her eyes, feeling her smile widen at the familiar remark. "That's a nice name"

"Yeah, well, I think Yunjin is a better name. It suits you perfectly"

"How so?" She was quick to cut in, inserting herself where she saw fit with a look of curiosity sugar glazing her eyes.

"I don't know… it's just a nice name"

The taller girl nodded, her fingers moving to wrap around each other. "Are you calling me nice?"

You let out an overly exaggerated hum,"maybe?"

Her eyebrows raise in what you could only assume to be shock, her mouth hung slightly ajar as she leans towards you, bumping your shoulder with her own "It seems I can't even get a compliment from a pretty girl"

You laugh, nudging her back with your elbow. "You can have a compliment, but I think I'd require one from a super pretty girl first"

"Oh yeah?" The corners of her lips tilt up into a sly grin, causing her cheeks to rise by default. "You think I'm super pretty?"

You'd be lying if you said she wasn't attractive because, truth be told, you thought she was indeed of the better-looking population. She was calm and a little too smooth with her words, her confidence evidently clearing the path for this type of behaviour, and it only made her all that much more attractive.

There was something in the way she sat, relaxed but still with the proper straightened back. There was something in the way her hair framed her face, as to almost accentuate her every feature. There was just something in this particular female that allowed her access to this kind of behaviour from you, and you are sure the whole school has this reaction too.

"I never put a name up for debate. Why don't you give it a try, and we'll see where it goes?" You watched tentatively as Yunjin bops her head, her pinky finger rubbing over the tip of her thumb.

"I have nothing to say," she looks you in the eyes,"I can't put what I want into words without them seeming so in vain"

You pull a face at her attempt, lips stretching as your eyes widen in concern,"interesting," you sputter while your ears lean into her soft laugh.

"I apologise." Yunjin shifts in her spot, rotating herself so she's sat facing more so towards you.

"It's alright. I just wasn't expecting that" you look to the front, noticing her guitar resting alone by the chair she previously occupied. "You play guitar, right?"

Yunjin raises an eyebrow, looking back at her personal instrument before stringing her attention back to you. "Yeah, I've been playing since I was six"

"So I take it you're decent at shredding?"

"Decent?" She offendedly scoffs- her hands raising to her chest, "Shredding isn't particularly easy on an acoustic, but I'd say I'm better than decent"

"Uh huh…" You half ass your response, moving to hibernate your hands within your pocket. "You'll have to prove it to me one day"

"Oh, I plan to," she dismissively waves a hand in the air. "I'm sorry, you're either new, never show up to class, or I'm just blind. I've never seen you around before, and I'm certain I would've remembered a face like yours"

You're not sure if it was the random compliment or if Yunjin just has that ability over you, but you let out an airy laugh in reply. "No, no, I'm definitely new. Today's my first day"

"Oh? And you already know Haerin?" She asks, eyes trained on you as she seems genuinely interested.

"I've known Haerin since high school" you explain, "I was temporarily sent to another college just a little out of the city while I worked over some paperwork for this place… I applied to come here last year, but got caught up with something at my old college that everything just kind of slipped my mind"

"I understand that. College isn't exactly the best time to be alive. Every day just kind of slips into the last." You nod, heaving a heavy sigh as you glance down, greeting your lap with a look of defeat. "If you ever need anything, I'll make sure to try my best to help you"

"Thanks, Yunjin. I promise to do the same thing for you, I can tell you're a genuinely nice person," you try not to, but you accidentally mumble your words. Fortunately, though, Yunjin still heard it, and despite you only offering a mutual agreement, it still made her feel proud of herself as she mentally applauded herself for even initiating the conversation.

It was sweet, the little terms and service you had placed yourselves in with one another. From strangers to relatively close acquaintances. However, you both know there's more to dive into together, that this was barely even the surface to your current friendship, and more so than she does, you fear it deep down.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

: A new college means new faces, and although you already have a set of friends to hang out with, you can't help but be drawn to the two campus heartthrobs... and they can't help but be drawn to you too...

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

#yunjin x reader #kazuha x reader #yunjin #kazuha #le sserafim #huh yunjin #nakamura kazuha

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oceanofsinners · 7 months

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Yan mental hospital patient x their sweet, oblivious therapist<3

[mdni, or do, i really couldn’t care less i’m not your parents. uhhh tw/cw for: violence, attempted murder i guess?? one small suggestive comment i had to add lmao, manipulation, general yandere stuff y'know? lmk if i should add anything else. also first post omg??]

Dakota was tired of the plain white walls, the doors with locks from the outside only, and the constant surveillance and prying eyes of the place he grew to see as his “home” because of his very frequent visits.

He constantly went to the mental institution, leaving for only a few days before coming back.

Younger kids and visitors looked up to him, and he enjoyed their company, despite not understanding why they did. He let them touch his scars and braid his hair. He was an excellent role model, despite it all.

Dakota found the schedule of getting up, getting vitals checked, going to breakfast, doing group therapy and so on annoying, as anyone would.

Some days, he lays in bed — till a security guard comes and drags him out — wondering, “how the hell is this boring, horrible, stuffy place supposed to fix people?”

He never understood. And he doubted that he ever would. Till you came. Then, it seemed, like all his old problems solved themselves and fresh problems arose. [including the one in his pants.]

He's been through multiple therapists, older and younger, brand new and those who've been here for years. None can help him. Instead, he just lies till he's released. And then comes back within days. [always having to be restrained by multiple cops, coming back kicking and screaming that he's going to kill himself and everyone else.]

However, as soon as he saw you, his day brightened immediately. Other staff members were reasonably shocked that the gloomy, mean, depressed, easily upset, violent Dakota seemed...happy for once.

Except, you're not his therapist. He's pissed. Of course he is, you're the first person he's ever liked in this stupid fucking place! [don't mention the fact the two of you haven't even met.]

With a little asking [blackmailing.] around, he learns who's your patient. His name being Quinn, it's around 3 pm, around the time where everyone's free to do whatever, and just before therapy starts. Perfect!

He walks up to the guy who's your patient, swiping a pencil off the kids' table. [none of which protest, knowing by now that it's best they don't.]

Dakota taps Quinn on the shoulder, making the shorter guy turn around, his mouth open to say something, before a sharp scream escapes instead.

Dakota has a crooked grin on his face as he forces the pencil further into the guys eye socket, yanking it out as Quinn drops to the floor, and he stabs the — now broken — pencil into his throat, just a couple inches from his artery.

Quinn chokes on his own blood, while security guards force Dakota off the smaller boy, forcing him to solitary confinement. Dakota laughs as they pull him away, while nurses do their best to keep Quinn alive.

“Stupid fucking homicidal maniac.” One guard growls as they shove Dakota into his cell, while Dakota grins the entire time, uncaring of what the others say.

A couple hours pass, and Dakota once again grows bored and weary of the bleak walls, the uncomfortable bed, and the never-ending silence.

Eventually, the door opens. He's laying on his bed, looking up at the plain white, boring ceiling. He doesn't cast a look at the intruder, and couldn't care less who they are.

“Your name's Dakota, right?” Dakota flinches at the sound of your voice. His head snaps over towards you, where you stand in the doorway, and he can see one of the guards watching carefully.

You step further into the room, accessing the room with a frown. You seem to be just as upset as Dakota with the way the room looks.

“I saw what you did to Quinn — my patient —, and I asked if I could become your therapist instead. They agreed, of course. Which is why I’m here.” Dakota’s distracted by just how sweet you sound, and the kind smile on your face despite it all.

He has a hard time wrapping his head around it. You saw him attempt to kill someone, and yet, you're being kind to him? It doesn't make sense. You don't make sense.

You sit down opposite of him on the bed, and begin asking the normal questions. Instead of lying like he normally would, he actually tells the truth. It shocks both you and him.

“What do you go by?” “He/him.”

“Why are you here currently?” “I tried to kill myself and a friend.”

“Do you feel regret for what you did?” “No.”

The questioning goes on for hours, and the two of you talk for hours, far longer then your supposed to. Therapy ended a long time ago.

No, now it's more like a chat between you two, the way you two connect is like two pieces of a puzzle.

You glance up at the clock, eyes widening when you notice the time. You apologize for having to leave so abruptly, and Dakota frowns in response.

[silly, silly you, thinking you could leave him so easily? as if.]

Dakota grabs your hand, tearing up as you glance down at him. “Ple-Please, don't leave, I—I...I’m afraid of being alone...pl-please...” He closes his eyes, swallowing thickly.

You pause, taking pity on him as you sigh, nodding as you sit down on the creaky bed once again.

He lays his head on your chest, making you tense up as you slowly put your arm around his shoulders.

“Y’know, we really shouldn't be doing this. Isn't this going against some law?” You mumble against his ear, and he shrugs.

“I—I don't know...Y-You don't have to stay.” Dakota’s voice trembles, tears sliding down his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You bite your lip, glancing at the door, he was right. You could leave. But your job is to make him better, leaving him would only make it worse...right? You shake your head.

“No, it's fine, I’ll stay. But I have to leave early in the morning, kay, Dakota?” You glance down at him, your eyes meeting bright green ones. He nods, smiling against your skin.

“That’s okay! Just, don't leave yet, please?” You nod once again, and the two of you talk while you slowly nod off. Eventually you lay down, him still laying against your chest.

You fall asleep with the red haired boy laying on your chest, a sick, crooked grin on his face. He moves out of your grip, straddling your hips.

He plays with your hair as he watches you sleep, oh so peacefully, by the side of an attempted murderer. It's almost insane how you fell asleep, knowing he was by your side and you two were alone.

He leans down, his chapped and bloody lips meeting yours, it's delicate, barely even a kiss.

He giggles giddily, pulling out your phone and rolling to your side, head on your chest and phone in hand as he goes through it.

He deletes anyone in your contacts who may threaten your relationship, takes photos of you two, amongst other things.

Slowly, his eyes grow heavy, and he stuffs your phone back into your pocket, closing his eyes as he curls around you possessively.

The two of you sleep like that til someone comes in the morning, and sees you and him curled up, the thin blanket thrown on the floor by Dakota so when it got cold you'd curl around him.

Dakota’s eyes are already open by the time the nurse walks in, giving her the middle finger and that crooked grin on his face while her eyes widen, and she slowly walks out, closing the door.

You're completely unaware of the monster you're supporting, and it's going to stay that way, whether you like it or not.

#┆︴YOUR HOST ٭ NICO #yandere #x reader #oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #first post #oc

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riotsux · 2 months

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(Tw: depression, suicide mention)

I always find myself telling queer teens it'll get better

They always ask "when"

And thats the one thing I can't tell them

I don't know the exact steps I took, I was so depressed, I keep a suicide note I had written when I was 19/20 tucked away in a notebook

I still remember the few factors that kept me alive, there were only two,

My brother made me promise me so long ago that I wouldn't do this, not in this fashion in particular. Our mom had told him a family myth, I can't confirm it, but according to her, at least one person every generation in her lineage had hung themselves

And the second, the most crucial at the time, I can not ruin this house for her. I was staying with a partner at the tike and things had gone south, he had a younger sister who was already so worried about her other siblings killing themselves, I wasn't about to bring that into her house, for her and her alone

Months later I'm living with my parents, I had been pushing myself to go do things, with friends from high-school or my dad, I had been rotting in my room for months and decided I needed to "fake it till I made it"

Then one morning

One sunny beautiful morning

I woke up, stood up from my bed and looked in the mirror

I don't know when the changed happened but there was something in my eyes, something I hadn't seen in years, this glow was back

And I couldn't help myself, words fell out

"There you are.. my beautiful boy, there you are."

I didn't know what I was waiting for but that morning I saw it

I can't tell you what did it

The rebound, the friends, the sun, the new location, the love around me, my dog, new music

I can't tell you what did it

But something did

I just had to wait

And God was it worth it

The one thing I really need queer kids to know is that I'm so proud of you, for just waking up, you're here

You're here!

And I couldn't be prouder that you are

Stay, please

I have to see who you grow up to be

#queer #txt #trans #transgender #riots world #love #rambling im sorry #rambles #mental health ramble #mental health #trans rights #tw depressing stuff

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attic-club-sandwich · 6 months

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hii! it’s me again, i loved the last simeon fix you made, your writing is so good! if it’s okay with you i wanted to ask how do you think the brothers would comfort a gn mc that has anxiety often? more like, physical anxiety like heart palpitations than emotional. thanks again for the last fic you made!!

Ahh hello! I'm so glad that you liked the Simeon fic!! I honestly loved writing it, he's so soft and gentle I was so glad someone requested him for the series 💞 So you are very welcome! lol

And Lucky for you I am the queen of anxiety and often think about this exact scenario lmao so to me, the brothers would be so supportive and understanding towards an MC who experiences the unfortunate physical (and emotional) symptoms of anxiety. Forgive me i went wild with this lol I based a lot of this off of my own experiences with anxiety and panic attacks. Also some techniques that i've either tried or heard work really well! I hope you like! Please feel free to send requests whenever you want! 💜

CW for general anxiety/depression, panic attacks, being sick (implied; very mild).

Taglist: @amberrskiies, @obey-me-posts, @sassykattery, @delphi-dreamin, @bite-sized-devil, @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar, @marvelous-maniac, @nonbinary-disaster, @selfmadender, @animeismyhappyplace, @vampire-tr4mp, @ana-dear, @gaychaosgremlin, @sidgethegamer, @meiloorun-tea, @temnuk0

Lucifer:

Lucifer has kept a close eye on you from Day 1 of your stay in the Devildom.

Therefore, when you aren't acting like your usual self, he notices.

You had come home from RAD that day and immediately went to your room, not saying a word. You usually hang out in the living room with him and his brothers after school.

Lucifer shoos his worried brothers away and beelines to your room, giving your door a soft knock.

When he enters, you are sat on your bed, knees to chest with your head buried between.

"MC, are you alright?"

At the sound of his voice, your shoulders begin to shake, and your breathing becomes gradually heavier.

You glance up at him and shake your head, clearly unable to speak at the moment as your breathing speeds up at an alarming pace.

Lucifer is by your side instantly, rubbing small circles onto your back as your chest heaves.

"Shh, my dear. I'm right here with you. Concentrate on your breathing. Deep and slow."

He understands this is a panic attack, as he has experienced his own. He has also spent countless times talking his brothers through theirs.

He knows all too well the feeling of helplessness as the irrational fear takes over your body.

Unfortunately, this was not an uncommon thing for him.

You take in deep, shuddering breaths, tears rolling down your cheeks as you try to focus on his touch.

"Thats it, MC, just like that. You're doing well."

Finally, after a few moments, your breathing slows back down to normal.

He continues to sit with you, his hand never leaving your back as you come down from the adrenaline of the attack.

"S-Sorry Luci..." you sob, wiping away your tears.

He shakes his head, pulling you into his chest.

"You have no reason to apologize. Let's go to my room for awhile, shall we?"

Of course he spends the rest of the evening focused on you.

He brings you dinner, runs you a bath, and tucks you into bed.

Lucifer never leaves your side.

He wishes he could just tuck you into his wings and hide you away from everything that would mean to do you harm.

Mammon

As the 2nd oldest, he also is used to comforting his younger siblings.

When the two of you are out at an unusually busy night at the casino, you begin to feel overwhelmed.

He doesn't notice at first, but when you run off mumbling something about "needing the bathroom", he immediately chases after you.

"Yo, MC! Are ya ok?" he asks from outside the bathroom door.

He can hear you coughing and he no longer hesitates to burst through the door.

You are sat on the floor in front of the toilet, hugging the bowl and looking very pale and sweaty.

He runs to you, placing his hand on your back.

Only then does he feel how hard you are trembling.

"M-Mammon...go away..." you choke out, tears rolling down your cheeks.

"No way in hell am I leavin' ya."

He helps you up, closing the toilet lid and plopping you down on top.

Your shoulders are heaving as you try to catch your breath.

He also notices how bad your hands are shaking as your fingers grasp at the hem of your shirt.

Shit, he thinks. They're havin' a panic attack?!

"s'okay, try to breathe, MC." he says, managing to keep his voice low and calm.

You nod, grasping hard at his hand.

He squeezes, his golden gaze focused intently on you.

"Keep breathin' and count to 5 with me, okay?"

You count together as you take slow, deep breaths in and out.

Eventually, your breathing begins to slow back down to normal.

When you can stand again, Mammon holds you steady and guides you out of the Casino.

"Let's go home for the night, the Great Mammon will take good care of ya."

Once you're home again, the exhaustion from the evening takes over and you find it hard to stay awake.

Thankfully, Mammon is there to help you into your pajamas and to get you settled into bed for the night.

He only leaves your side long enough to go grab you some snacks and water from the kitchen.

Mammon will always uphold his promise.

He is not leaving you anytime soon.

Leviathan:

If there's one thing you and Levi have in common, it's anxiety.

As you've grown closer, he has become very in tune with when you are feeling anxious.

He invited you to his room for a game night with everyone, but he immediately noticed something was off.

If he's being honest, he was barely concentrating on any of the games.

All he could focus on was you.

You lock eyes with him, and he can tell by the expression on your face and your body language that you are feeling overstimulated.

Which is understandable.

The sound of the brothers yelling overtop each other and the music from the game is usually enough to send him over the edge on a bad day.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see a text from you.

"Levi, I think I need to step out for a minute."

He glances up to see you are already heading out the door.

Of course, he follows you. He needs to check up on his Henry.

He finds you outside his room, sitting on the floor with your back against the wall

"MC? Are you going to be okay?"

You shake your head as your lip begins to tremble.

He sits down next to you as you begin to cry.

You lean your head into his shoulder as your hands wrap tightly around his arm.

"Hey, MC it's going to be okay. Remember what I told you before?"

Your breathing is growing heavier, and your heart is pounding hard in your chest.

"Focus on the things you can see, smell, and feel."

You nod, attempting to fight through the fog in your brain to focus on something. Anything.

Levi watches as you use the grounding techniques he taught you.

He wraps one arm around your back, pulling you gently into him as you finally begin to calm down again.

"You did great, MC! I'm proud of you."

You give him a small smile as he kisses the top of your head.

"T-Thank you Levi. I love you."

He blushes as he buries his face into your hair.

"Let's just hang out here for awhile. I was getting pretty overwhelmed too. A-And I love you too by the way!"

Satan:

Sometimes Satan's mood has a habit of rubbing off on you.

When he's particularly annoyed about something (that something usually being Lucifer), you also find yourself growing irritable.

One day, as he is going off about something that Lucifer had said that morning, you can't take it anymore.

You can feel the anxiety building in your chest, tense and heavy.

"Satan, shut up!" you explode, digging your fingers into your hair in frustration.

The Avatar of Wrath is taken aback by your outburst.

"M-MC? I-I'm sorry, i didn't mean..."

"J-Just stop! I-I can't.... take it....anymore..."

You almost seem as if you can't catch your breath.

Then He finally realizes you are beginning to panic.

"Oh, MC..." he breathes, rushing over to your side.

The two of you had been in the HOL library, and the book you were reading slides off of your lap.

Your hands are trembling, and your face is hot with anger.

But you don't even know why you're angry.

All you can do is cry.

Satan has learned a lot from his brothers when it comes to this kind of thing.

"Let's focus together, MC. We both need to take deep breaths. Are you ready?"

You aren't ready. You're pissed off, and you want him to know it.

But you breathe with him anyways.

It surprises you every time how quickly the brain fog dissipates after your breathing exercises.

The sensation of Satan's hand rubbing your arm also helps a little.

"That's it, MC. You're going to be just fine."

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut as you focus on the feeling of his fingers running up and down your skin.

"How about you listen to me read this book I'm currently reading? I think you'll like it."

You open one eye to look at him and he's grinning.

When Satan smiles, you can't stop yourself from smiling too.

Asmodeus

Asmo absolutely adores you.

Even the parts of you that you don't think should be adored.

You had a shopping spree planned at the Devildom Mall for the past week now, and today was finally the day.

The two of you had spent hours already going in and out of stores, and you had quite the haul to bring home.

However, by the end you were quite tired and it was getting busier and busier in the mall.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Asmo asks, noticing the shift in your normally bubbly disposition.

Your hands are beginning to shake as you exit the final store.

"I-I um, I-I think...I need to stop for a minute." You stutter, your mouth suddenly very dry.

Asmo guides you over to a bench to sit.

He notices your knee begins to bounce at a steady rate.

Your face is flushed.

And you definitely don't look like you're about to pass out.

"Woah, honey it's going to be okay! Just look at me."

You lock eyes with him, his concerned face looking back at you.

But he remains calm. He knows exactly what to do.

"That's it. Now let's take some deep breaths."

You inhale as you scan Asmo's face .

You exhale as you think about how pretty he is.

His charm doesn't work on you, yet he has such a calming presence and it's exactly what you need.

You take a few more breaths when you notice he's been holding your hands in his this whole time.

You feel bad thinking about how sweaty they are.

"Oh, MC, are you starting to feel better?"

You nod graciously, your eyes never leaving his.

You're afraid if you look away, you might start to panic again.

Asmo smiles at you as he helps you to your feet.

"Let's head home now, MC! I'm dying for a bath. Care to join me?"

Asmo runs you the warmest bath you can stand, and makes sure to add in his favorite lavender bath bomb to help soothe you.

He treats you like you're at his own personal spa.

Not only is he the Avatar of Lust, he's the king of self care.

Beelzebub

One thing about Beel is that he loves his family.

And you're part of his family now, so he feels it's important to protect you.

Even if it is your own head that you need protected from.

Beel is also one that's familiar with anxiety/panic attacks.

He's helped Belphie through them countless times since their fall into the Devildom.

So when he sees you with your head down in the RAD cafeteria, and food untouched, he's worried.

He heads your way and takes the seat next to you.

"MC, what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?"

You nod, unable to lift your head to meet his gaze.

He notices how you are beginning to tremble; your shoulders shaking as the telltale sign that you're starting to cry.

His hand presses against your back, hoping he can somehow hold you together.

"MC... what happened?"

You finally glance up at him, tears running down your cheeks.

"I-I f-failed my stupid exam... L-Lucifer is g-gonna kill me..."

Beel's heart sinks.

Of course Lucifer wouldn't actually kill you.

And it's really not the end of the world to fail a test.

That's why there's make up exams.

But he knows you aren't thinking clearly right now.

And he can practically hear your heart beating out of your chest.

"MC. What did you buy for lunch?"

You hiccup, looking up at him in confusion.

"T-This isn't about lunch, Beel."

He nods, continuing to rub your back.

"They have the spicy rainbow pizza today. Did you try it?"

You shake your head, glancing at your tray of untouched food.

Beel picks up the slice and offers you a bite.

The pizza of course is spicy. Really spicy.

You cough, taking a drink of the soda you had abandoned.

You turned to yell at Beel when you realized you were starting to feel better.

"Are you feeling better? I heard foods with strong flavors can help ease off an attack."

You nod, unsure if you want to laugh or continue crying.

Afterwards, Beel takes you home for the day.

He is another one that refuses to eave your side until you're feeling better.

You insist you aren't hungry, but he suggests cuddling in a Twin Sandwich later that night.

Of course you can't resist his offer.

Especially since he's already carrying you bridal style to his bedroom.

Belphegor

Belphie is usually the one being consoled rather than the one doing the consoling.

He feels awkward sometimes when it comes to comforting his brothers.

He doesn't think that he's good at it.

But when you first come to him with a problem, it feels different.

The two of you had fallen asleep together in the attic one night after dinner.

At one point, you began to toss and turn, small whimpers escaping your lips.

Your erratic movements manage to wake Belphie from his deep sleep.

"Mm..MC..? You okay?"

He's still half asleep as he rubs his eyes.

Your breathing is heavy as you roll towards him, unable to escape whatever plagues your dreams.

As soon as Belphie realizes you are having a nightmare, he's shaking your shoulders trying to wake you up.

"Hey MC, wake up now okay?"

You cry out as you finally come back to consciousness, the haunting images already fading away from your mind.

But you can't stop the panic that begins to overwhelm you.

You begin to cry as Belphie stares wide eyed, unsure of what he should do.

The only thing he can manage to do is wrap you up in his arms.

"I'm here, MC...it's okay. I'll keep you safe."

Your forehead is slick with sweat as you try to shake the violent feeling of doom from your shoulders.

"B-Belphie, p-please don't l-leave..."

The Avatar of Sloth squeezes you tighter as he strokes the back of your head

The sensation of his fingers running through your hair is comforting.

It gives you something to focus on and hold on to.

"Shh, angel. Deep breaths. I'm not going anywhere. Now take deep breaths with me."

You rest your head against his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he takes deep breaths in and out.

You follow his lead, taking a few moments to focus on your breathing.

Belphie is patient with you as you come down from your panic.

"If you're up for it, let's go take a walk in the garden and look at the stars together. We'll be sure to have good dreams afterwards."

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes heavy with exhaustion.

But the feeling of the cool night air against your feverish skin and laying under the stars with Belphie is too good to pass up.

#cass writes #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me #obey me! one master to rule them all #asks #answered #b3lph1es-p1ll0w #obey me writing #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me boys #obey me brothers #obey me shall we date

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