#movements but the best way to counteract that is to be like yes i long for this imagined world or i think the past was great because i was

[cruelsister-moved2]

nostalgia for a lost past is like largely morally neutral i think it's more in how that past is imagined (and how much we acknowledge that the past is inherently imaginary) where we start to see issues but its like. really really weird to see how many self-styled left wing people seem to feel that reminiscing over a charming and idyllic is somehow inherently progressive. like what does the word progressive mean on its most fundamental level come ON.

#a part of me feels like saying miyazaki is reactionary as hell #whichwould be reinforced by his takes on female animators #and everything about the wind rises . .. . . . .. .. . . #but the other partof me is like well provided that the past is owned up to as an imaginary thats paradoxically only beautiful BECAUSE we ar #no longer in it etc etc etc then its probably fine #but its like really confusing and jarring to see people hold the opinionn like #miyazaki films are good/moral/left wing because they long to return to a past which is good/moral/communal. according to their own logic. #ummm. guy who has literally never encountered fascism before? shfiushgdfg #my biggest learning curve for myself rn is recognising that Emotion which gives rise to reactionary behaviour is not criminal #and even if it were its not possible to repress that emotion #so better to honestly address it than try and force yourself to pretend its not there. like yeah nostalgia is a huge part of most fascist #movements but the best way to counteract that is to be like yes i long for this imagined world or i think the past was great because i was #child there and less aware of The Horrors etc. #rather than like pretend you dont harbour that feeling at all. so thats why with revival moments im always like PLEASE JUST BE HONEST THAT #YOURE A REVIVAL. #i completely understand why u want to wear flower crowns and skip around in a field!!!! just dont be like 'im retvrning to the natural ways #of my ancestors'

[bqstqnbruin]

Drunk Texts

Me? With another fic? This fast? Ground breaking.

Anyway, this has been sitting in my google drive for way too long and I finally finished it. It's inspired by Drunk Texts by New Rules.

Thank you to my besties @kat-hearts @raysofcrosby @matthewtkachuk and @assmanselke for reading this, but they have no idea what the ending is so hahahaha

If there are typos, I'm so sorry, Grammarly is being weird

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, swearing, the ending

WC: 5k ish

Flashbacks are in italics

_______________________________________

The sun was up, there was a bird outside his window happily chirping, the city below his apartment was alive and bustling on the beautiful late summer day.

Anthony felt like he wanted to die.

He couldn’t remember having a worse hangover, trying to wrack the usable part of his brain to figure out if he had anything besides alcohol the night before. He was pretty sure he had at least one glass of water, thinking he had maybe a bite of food but that proved to be way too little to counteract what was probably a bottle or two of wine and whatever else his teammates had given to him to drink last night. 

He sat up from bed, his head pounding as he rubbed his eyes and searched for his phone, haphazardly on his nightstand under what he could only hope was his own underwear and not someone else's. If some other guys boxers were there, Anthony knew he had more than one problem to deal with. 

It was the same thing every single time he went drinking after a bad night, his room and probably the rest of his apartment left in a disaster, but the worst part were the drunk texts he knew were sent by him the night before. Drunk texts sent by anyone were horrible, incoherent and easy to blame on being inebriated, but his were always exceptionally bad. 

Anthony got out of bed, his head pounding with every movement he made. He knew he had to check his phone at some point. Delaying it any longer would just lead to more issues with his life later on.

The one person he hoped he hadn’t texted was right at the top of his messages, a message that somehow combined French, English, and absolute gibberish into one text, undoubtedly from him, showing up in the preview. 

He tapped the messages with Scarlett, the last girl he dated, and still couldn’t get out of his head. She was, unfortunately, used to his drunk or stupid texts, Anthony unable to form a proper thought when it came to her.

‘I like you’ was the only text he could decipher at first glance, an “oh fuck,” escaping his lips while he tried to piece together why his teammates would let him not only drink so much, but keep his phone on him the entire time. 

“Who is that over there?” Anthony asked, staring at the girl with long, dark hair, talking to one of his new teammates. 

“Uh, that’s Quinn,” Brock said, “your teammate.”

“No, the girl he’s somehow talking to,” Anthony replied.

“Not sure, I normally see Quinn with her when we come here, though. She always shows up when Quinn texts her,” Brock shrugged, “I think her name is Sarah? Sage?”

So she probably likes Quinn then, if she’s showing up when he asks. He shakes his head, “You only know that her name maybe starts with an S, don’t you?”

“Yep.” 

Anthony sighed, trying to take in the girl Quinn was talking to. He swore he had seen her before, something about her trying to work its way through his memory. 

“Go talk to her.” 

“What?” he asked, looking at his teammate.

“I promise you that Quinn does not have enough in him to pull a girl like that.” 

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?” 

“Yes, that’s why I can say it. Now, go.” Brock practically had to shove Anthony away from the table. 

Anthony stood there frozen, staring at Quinn and this girl while his mind went a mile a minute as to how he was going to talk to her. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he thought to himself, ‘she’s just a girl, talking to Quinn. If Quinn can talk to her, so can I.’

He felt his entire body shaking under the weight of himself as he tried to make his way over to the girl and Quinn. He could just tell Quinn he wanted to buy him a drink, celebrate the win they had the other night, something, anything. 

“Hey, Tito,” Quinn called out, pulling Anthony from his thoughts. Quinn and the girl were staring at him, the heat rushing to his face as she smiled at him. “This is Scarlett.” 

Anthony knew he had to speak. She was staring at him. She was smiling at him. She was clearly waiting for him to say something to her, but all functions that his body possessed suddenly stopped, including the one where he was able to get out something as simple as, “hi.” 

“Um,” Scarlett started, Quinn standing to the side laughing at his teammate, “Quinn tells me you just moved here from New York?” 

“L-long Island, um, yeah,” he managed to get out, starting to think of all the ways he wanted to disappear into the Canadian wilderness out of embarrassment. 

“What’s it like there? What’s there to do?” she asked him, Quinn slowly inching away from them. 

“Uh, leave.” As soon as the words left his lips, he shut his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, he would discover that the stupid things he said didn’t happen and were just a dream. He opened his eyes to see Scarlett biting her lip, trying not to laugh at him. 

She took a sip of her drink, not breaking eye contact and making Anthony’s heart skip in the process. “You’re either way too drunk to be talking to someone right now, or I, for some reason, make you really nervous.” 

Anthony lets out a sigh, a smile on his face. “What if I told you it was both?” 

There was something about the laugh that escaped her lips after he told her that that made him forget everything. He swore he blacked out while talking to her, but not from the alcohol. He had never felt more sober than that first time he met her. He remembered nothing about that night except the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, a crooked smile spreading across her face when she was flirting with him, the way he knew heat was rushing to her face, probably from the second hand embarrassment of him attempting to flirt back. 

“So, you and that girl looked pretty cozy last night,” Brock teased him the next morning after practice. None of them had been particularly happy that they were called for last minute drills, all of them sweating the alcohol from the night before more than anything else. 

“Are you in love?” Quinn teased, his voice dripping with that pre-teen gooeyness that got under Anthony’s skin.

“I just met her,” he started.

“Love at first sight exists, my friend,” Elias joins in, hitting Anthony hard enough on his back that he nearly fell out of his stall. 

“Dear god, I need to go back to New York,” Anthony groans, drowned out by the sounds of his teammates laughing. 

“There’s no way Long Island is better than here,” they kept going.

“We called it the ‘God forsaken island,’ growing up,” Quinn added, the guys laughing even harder as they continued to rib Anthony. 

“I liked you all better when you didn’t know me.” 

“You know we like you better when we make fun of you,” Elias tried to reassure him. “Have you at least talked to her since last night?”

“How would I do that?”

“You got her number?” Quinn questioned. 

Anthony tried to think back to the night before, failing to remember anything past his initial meeting with Scarlett and the absolute fear that he felt trying to talk to her in those first few minutes. “When did that happen?”

“Right after the eighth green tea shot.”

“You let me have eight?” 

“Scarlett kept buying. I wasn’t going to argue with her,” Quinn said, holding his hands up in defense. “We tried to get you to stop, but after the third one, you threatened to pour them all over Brock.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to let you get my white shirt dirty.”

“God forbid you get your five dollar Walmart shirt a little dirty with some alcohol.”

“Hey, no-”

“Guys!” Anthony finally cut in, his teammates all turning to look at him. “I don’t have her number.”

“Have you looked at your phone since last night?”

“Only to turn off my alarm when it was still on ‘do not disturb.’”

“Scarlett a hundred percent has texted you already if you haven’t texted her. She’s not one to wait for days for a guy to reach out to her,” Quinn told him. 

“I don’t think I like that you know so much about her,” Anthony mumbled.

“I met her the first weekend I was here my rookie year and she somehow has appeared in my life every weekend since. Check your phone.” 

The guys start to file out and head home, Anthony and Quinn sitting there by themselves. Anthony didn’t even know what he would say to her. How does he start a conversation with a girl he barely knows, who he was too nervous to talk to the night before? 

“You make her sound like a stalker,” Anthony sighed, trying to search for his phone. 

“I’ve known her for years and she hasn’t stalked anyone.”

“That you know of.”

“You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

“And that is the closest to being Gretzky that you’ll ever be.”

“Just check your phone. You were babbling like a dumbass the second you met her. I haven’t known you for as long as I’ve known her, but I definitely know you well enough that you don’t act like that around girls. Ever.” 

Quinn finally got up to head home, leaving Anthony alone in their locker room to do as he pleased. 

Anthony sat back in his stall, letting his head hit the back and getting engulfed in his clothing hanging behind him. What would he even text her? Is it too soon to text her? How could he send anything that would be good enough for her to want to respond?

He finally pulled out his phone to start going through his notifications. News from around the league, random DMs from people on Instagram, a text from his mom that he would forget to respond to until after she was asleep for the night, and a message from someone with just an emoji as their contact. It was the blushing emoji, Anthony remembering Scarlett telling him that her friends called her ‘Scar,’ and that was the first emoji that popped up when someone tried to search for her name. 

‘So how often do you get a girl's number and not text them back after that night?’

Anthony couldn’t figure out if the banging was just the throbbing headache he had or someone actually at his door. 

“What the fuck could you possibly be doing here this early?” he groaned at his teammates standing at this door. 

“It’s 2 pm,” Quinn says, pushing his way into Anthony’s apartment without an invite, coffees and bags of food in hand.

  “It was either us doing the wellness check or the police,” Brock adds, flopping down on the couch and sending Anthony’s phone on to the floor. 

“I don’t trust them to drive safely anywhere after they’ve spent the night drinking, so I had to come, unfortunately,” Elias tells Anthony, picking up his phone off the ground and handing it to him. “Has that girl texted you back yet?” 

Anthony’s head whipped up in shock. He really had no memory of last night. “Girl?” 

“Yeah, you know, those who identify with she and her pronouns?” Quinn says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Can you be a girl and not use those pronouns?” Brock asks while chomping on a bagel. 

“Very important questions for a later time, please,” Anthony interrupts, trying to look through his contacts to see if there was any name he didn’t recognize. “What girl?”

“You don’t remember?”

Anthony sat on the couch next to Brock, throwing his head back and letting out a guttural sigh. “Why would I remember anything from last night? That would make my life so much easier, and obviously, we can’t have that.” There was no way he could meet a girl and not remember her, right? There was no way he could possibly have drank that much alcohol to the point where he blacked out if he was with his teammates. 

“Not your usual type, but still pretty.” 

“She was hitting on Quinn first.”

“She was not.”

“She only stopped because you’re too dense to realize when someone is hitting on you.” 

“You could have had a relationship for the last five years if you picked up on that girl in the coffee shop.”

“That’s-” “Hello?” Anthony interrupts his teammates. “We were talking about me?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Brock says. “You really don’t remember the girl who bought you like four of the drinks you had?” 

‘ ‘What are you doing today?’ came up on Anthony’s phone from an unknown number. 

Scarlett had called him immediately after he sent his text to make sure he was ok. “Ti,” came through his speaker, the nickname she called him that made his heart race for no reason. “It’s two in the morning, what do you mean what am I doing today?” 

“I want to see you today,” Anthony slurred, drunk from his night with his teammates after winning the first round of the playoffs. 

“Only if you promise to get some water right now,” she giggled. “You know you forget to hydrate when you’re celebrating.” 

“Come out with us. I want to see you.” 

“I am in bed already,” she said, hearing Anthony let out a drunken groan. “I’m going to be helping Brooke at her street fair stand in the afternoon, I can meet you after that for you to take me on a date then.” 

“I want to take you out now,” he whined. 

“Dinner tomorrow at your favorite restaurant. You’ll pay.”

“I’ll pay.” 

Scarlett hung up before Anthony could say anything else.

The next morning, he woke up on Quinn’s couch, Elias sitting on the chair, Brock on the floor for who knows what reason. He didn’t even remember getting back to Quinn’s apartment, let alone how he ended up on the couch. 

“Why are we here?” Anthony asked, no one in particular.  

“I was the most sober of the four of us,” he heard Quinn yell from the kitchen. 

Following his teammates' voice, he attempted to get up, a pounding headache nearly knocking him off his feet. “How did that happen?”

“I’m not sure, but I fucking hated it,” Quinn mumbled. “Even Elias threw up four times last night.” 

“It might be five times soon,” Elias said, stumbling into the kitchen behind Anthony. 

“Good morning sunshines,” Brock yelled, groans coming from all three guys in the kitchen. “What’s everyone doing today after we get breakfast together?”

“Plotting your murder,” Elias muttered massaging his head with his fingers as if he were trying to will the hangover away through that method.

“At least wait till our season is done for that.”

“I think I’m seeing Scarlett,” Anthony said, trying to remember if his conversion with her the night before was real or not. 

Quinn hands out cups of coffee, a confused look on his face. “Like, you’re seeing her right now? In the room with us?”

“What’s it like having two brain cells that constantly have to fight for third place?” Anthony groaned, “No, you dumbass, I mean tonight. I’m seeing her tonight.”

“You’re finally going to see her somewhere that isn’t a bar and in a state that isn’t halfway fucked?” 

“I actually think I’m going to join Elias in murdering you,” Anthony countered. 

“You can’t hang out with Scarlett if you’re in jail for murdering me.” 

“What are you going to do with her today?” Elias asked, changing the subject. 

“I have no idea. I might be paying for whatever it is we do, though.” 

Anthony spent the rest of the morning getting annoyed at his teammates as they teased him, calling him a simp for Scarlett when he had only interacted with her in person while they were both drunk. They hadn’t even been on a real date yet. Scarlett telling him to take her out that night was going to be their first. 

“Look, I need to impress her,” he cuts them off after they get back to Quinn’s place. “So either you are all going to help me figure out how I do that, or I’m going to put in for a trade request in the off season.” 

The four of them managed to put together a plan that didn’t make Tito want to kill them. The first step was to go to Prototype, her favorite coffee shop in the city, and getting drinks for her and Brooke and surprising them at Brooke’s street fair. He had their orders saved in his phone for god only knows what reason, but he knew they would come in handy at some point. 

“We should come, too,” Quinn said, grabbing his stuff to follow Anthony out the door. 

“You should not,” Anthony protested. 

“We want to see what you’re like out of your natural habitat,” Brock teased.

“What the ever living fuck does that mean?”

“I think it means they want to see you try to flirt with her when you’re sober,” Elias translated.

“No. Nope. You three are not coming.” 

“You don’t have a car to get yourself anywhere and you still don’t know how to navigate the public transit system here.” 

“Fuck.” 

Anthony reluctantly let his teammates take him where he needed to go, hoping that he could lose them at the massive street fair that Brooke and Scarlett were working. Thankfully, his teammates had the attention span of squirrels, soon veering off from him and leaving him to wander with a tray of three drinks, hoping to impress the girl he desperately wanted to see sooner than that night. 

“Ti?” he heard from behind him. “Anthony, what are you doing here?”

He turned to see Scarlett walking up to him from across a sea of people, her smile alone making him lose all brain function. He should have known she would have the same effect on him sober as she did when he was drunk. “I, um,” he started, trying to remember what his reasoning for being there even was to begin with. Why did he have to see her so early when all she did was make him freak out in the best way possible? “I brought you coffee.”

He practically spilled it down the front of her by shoving it into her chest. “Um, thank you?”

“And for Brooke, too.” 

“Oh! You haven’t even met her yet?” 

“You told me that you two have the same favorite coffee order from Prototype, so I just got two of them,” he told her, feeling his cheeks turn bright pink. 

She gave him a soft smile, clearly impressed that he would remember not only her order, just her best friends, no matter how simple they were. “I knew you were a good one.” 

“Do you want us to text her?” Brock asks, craning his neck to try to read over Anthony’’s shoulder at his phone. 

“We can tell her you’re a good one,” Elias offers, the first hint of sincerity coming through his voice that none of his other teammates had shown to him all night. 

“Or that you’re bad,” Quinn draws out. 

“I’m not a thirteen year old boy trying to text his middle school crush, Jesus Christ.” 

“Tell her you’re like him,” Quinn adds. 

“You’re Jewish, I thought you don’t believe in him,” Elias asks. 

“Well, yeah, but he was still a historical figure. We just don’t believe the religious aspect that-”

“Hey!” Anthony interrupts, again. “Am I just here as comic relief?”

“You have to be funny to be considered that.”

“Ok, I’m leaving,” Anthony gets up from the couch, only to be pulled back down by Brock.

“We’re teasing you. You know this. And we’re in your apartment, where are you going to go?” 

“What do I do?” Anthony groans, throwing his head back with his hands over his eyes. 

“Text her back or ignore her.” 

“No, I mean,” he groans again, “I texted Scarlett last night.” Much to his surprise, he’s met with silence from his friends for the first time that morning. “That’s what shuts you up?”

The three of them exchange worried glances, making Anthony’s heart race and head throb even more than the hangover already had. He knew drinking anything was going to make him do something stupid. He just didn’t think his teammates would also agree. 

He handed them his phone, letting them see the string of stupidity from the night before. 

“There’s no way you texted her all of this,” Brock said.

“You can literally see the texts on his screen,” Elias groans. 

“God, you’re an idiot,” Scarlett told him between kissing him, one hand on the back of his neck pulling him towards her, the other on his guiding it towards her waist. 

Anthony didn’t know what to say as he felt every inch of her, pulling her back towards his bed. He sat down, his lips still connected to hers. Scarlett straddled his waist, her fingers gracing the hem of his shirt.

‘God, this has to be perfect,’ raced through Anthony’s mind, every other thought that wasn’t about Scarlett unable to break through his brain. His heart started racing as the two of them took off his shirt, fiddling with hers next to slip it off over her head, Anthony wanting nothing more than for his lips to be back on hers as fast as possible. 

He moved her off his lap, gently pushing her onto her back. He took a moment, both of them catching their breath while Anthony’s heart continued to race. “Wow,” he let out, Scarlett giggling at him. “You are just.” He couldn’t find the words to describe who she was, his mind still blank from anything other than her name. 

“Do you want to…” she asked, drifting off, her eyes traveling down his body. 

“Oh, god, yes.” Anthony said, crashing his lips to hers, feeling her smile against his.

‘This has to be perfect,’ kept running through Anthony’s head as they stripped more of what they were wearing, piece by piece. ‘She’s perfect so this has to be perfect.’

 She was ready. He could feel she was ready. But Anthony?

“Hey, hey, wait,” she stopped him. “Are you ok?”

He hung his head down, her hands pushing his hair back off his face. “I’m so sorry.” 

“We can stop, if you want to,” her voice came out small, clearly upset. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, rolling off her, unable to look at her. The two of them lied there in silence, a long pause that made Anthony more anxious by the second. 

“Are we ok?” Scarlett asked, finally breaking the silence. 

Anthony stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to say. “Yes?”

He heard her sigh, getting up to put her clothes back on. “Let me know when you’re sure,” she said to him, leaving his room. 

As soon as he heard his front door shut, he covered his face with his hands, letting out a deep groan. He wanted it to be perfect. He had been trying so hard to make everything for her as perfect as he was able to make it. Why the fuck did he have to get into his head like that. 

Anthony reached for his phone, pulling up the group chat with his teammates. ‘Who can come here ASAP?’ he sent, putting his phone back on his nightstand without even waiting for an answer, rolling over immediately and pulling his sheets over his face. 

Anthony didn’t know how long he had been asleep, hearing his front door open while he was still in his bed, his clothing strewn across his floor. 

“Tito, where are you?” he heard Elias’s voice carry through his place.

“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing himself out of bed to try to find something resembling pants before they could make it to his bedroom. 

“Tit-oh.” Quinn said, bursting through his bedroom door before he could fully get his sweatpants on. “Guys I found him.” “Jesus, Quinn,” Anthony said, nearly falling over. “You couldn’t wait?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead,” Brock said, spraying a mouth full of crumbs of who knows what everywhere, Elias following him with an annoyed expression. “We thought you were with Scarlett tonight.”

“He clearly was,” Elias said, gesturing to the mess that was his bedroom at the moment. 

“So what, you finished, she left, and your first thought was to call us?” Quinn asked, plopping down on Anthony’s bed, Brock following suit. 

Elias and Anthony took the floor, his three teammates trying to read the expression on his face. “No, I didn’t finish.” 

“With Scarlett?”

“I didn’t even,” Anthony started, putting his face back in his hands. “I didn’t even start.”

“Oh,” was all he heard from Elias, Brock and Quinn both silent for once. “We thought you really liked her?”

“God, yes, I do,” Anthony said. “This was supposed to be the first time we slept together and I fucked it up.” 

“That happens,” Elias shrugged. 

“It’s not even just that. She asked if we were ok and I couldn’t answer her.” 

“Why would you do that?” Quinn asked.

“I panicked. I’ve been panicking. Since the first time I saw her, I have been freaking out because she deserves more than what I can give her, and it fucks me up,” he let out, surprised he was even able to put anything into words. “I mean, Brock, you had to physically push me to her because I was frozen. Quinn stood there when I couldn’t even talk to her. We were all here the night I freaked out because I didn’t know how to text her, or what to do for our first date. I have been out of my mind about her since the second I saw her, and because of that I have fucked up so badly, I don’t know if she wants to see me ever again.” 

“Ok, you told her last night you wanted to see her,” Brock reads out. 

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“That night she left my apartment when we tried to…” Anthony trails off, not really wanting to recount the night again.

“What about the last time that you talked to her?” Quinn asks, handing Anthony his phone back. 

“She had called me one night after a game a few days later to say that she was sorry she left that night the way she did but she was upset that I didn’t have an answer for her.” 

“And?”

“And we talked it out, I thought we were fine, she said we would talk later, and neither of us reached out again.” 

“So you both ghosted each other until you sent her a bunch of drunk texts last night,” Quinn says.

Anthony groans, throwing his head back again. “Fuck, yes, Quinn. What do I do?”

“Well she hasn’t answered yet, so she either hasn’t seen it or also doesn’t know what to do.” 

“At least start with telling her you were drunk and that you’re sorry you sent all of those  texts,” Elias suggests. 

“Or we go over to her place and you ask her yourself.” The three of them look at Brock, Quinn, and Elias liking the idea, Anthony absolutely mortified. “I mean, you haven’t seen her in a while, you haven’t talked to her in a while, and drunk you clearly wanted to change that last night.”

“What about sober you, right now?” Quinn asks.

“Hungover me,” Anthony corrects, “Wants to go to bed until sober me reappears.” 

“Well that won’t be until tomorrow,” Brock points out, “So what would sober you want to do?”

Anthony smiles, his teammates knowing what he wants to do, what he’s wanted to do since that first night at the bar.

“I’ve got the keys,” Elias says, the four of them rushing out the door. 

Anthony felt his heart racing as Elias drove through the city, surprised he even knew where Scarlett’s building was. By the time he pulled up, his palms were soaked, his throat was dry, his legs anxiously unable to stop shaking. The guys had to practically throw him out the door, Anthony having no idea what the hell he was going to say. 

He managed to get up to her apartment, thankful that he was well known enough that the doorperson let him in, worried that the security was loose enough that they just let him in at the same time. He knocked on her door, finally starting to calm down as he waited for her. 

Anthony didn’t hear any movement in her apartment, knocking again after waiting for what felt like forever. He felt his phone buzz, a text in the group chat asking how it was going from Quinn, immediately followed up by Elias scolding him. 

He knocked a third time, hoping that she would answer. 

She wasn’t there. That, or she was ignoring whoever was at the door, given that he was showing up unannounced. 

He turns back around, heading back down to Elias’s car, letting them know he was waiting for the elevator. 

The door opened, Anthony moving to the side to let the person already there off while reading the texts that were flooding in from his teammates. 

“Anthony?” he hears, forcing him to look up from his phone.

“Scarlett,” he lets out, both of them smiling at each other. 

#anthony beauvillier #vancouver canucks fics #nhl #nhl fics #hockey #hockey fics #Anthony Beauvillier fic #quinn hughes #elias pettersson #brock boeser #vancouver canucks #Canucks

[quindolyn]

Can I request a Sub! James Potter? Where he did something bad, and reader had to punish him, with some amazing aftercare afterwards?

Permission || James Potter

Word Count: 3016

A/N: This was also requested by @triciam06 and I hope you all enjoy it! I’m the biggest sucker for sub!James. His punishment isn’t anything too severe because I a) don’t think that James would ever break a rule more severe than the one he breaks in this piece and that’s because he’s the most obedient sub and b) I love him but he couldn’t take a hardcore punishment. 

Warnings: Mommy kink, sub!James, overstim, light punishment, aftercare

Masterlist

It was funny really, how easily you could get him off on your hand alone. Desperate to be your good boy James was trying his very best not to buck up into your hand as you lazily flicked your wrist up and down his shaft, your thumb occasionally brushing over the blushing tip of his weeping cock.

You dragged your eyes over his perspiring form, his strong hands balled into fists, clenching the soft material of the sheets in between his fingers. He had his back arched against the bed, messy black hair fanning out around his face which was flushed, painting his cheeks a pretty rosy pink. With tears swimming in his eyes, which were there from the tremendous effort he was putting into delaying his orgasm until you said he could cum, your Jamsie was the picture of obedience. 

Continuing your hand’s movements on his throbbing cock, a lopsided smirk caressed your face as you moved the hand not on his member to grope at your breast, it only seemed fair that you got to touch yourself as you watched this.

“M-Mommy,” He stuttered out, blinking up at you owlishly, his glasses were still perched atop his nose, but now resting crooked on his face. 

Your hand abandoned your breast, instead moving to correct his glasses, “On or off baby?” You cooed gently, gazing down at him adoringly, he was being such a good boy for you, not cumming until he was told he could. He always followed instruction so well.

“Off please,” James whimpered, turning his face so that you could more easily access his eyewear. 

“Such good manners,” You praised, folding the legs of the glasses in towards the lenses before you set them down on the nightstand table. In your efforts to discard his glasses you had to lean a bit meaning that James’ painfully hard prick slipped from the palm of your hand, slapping against the hard muscles of his lower abdomen.

You grinned wickedly at the small whimper that left his mouth, watching as he flexed his fingers you knew he was just desperate to get one of his hands on his cock, he was so close to cumming and the both of you knew it. 

“Aww baby,” You crooned, eyes never leaving his member, “It looks so pretty right there, lying on your tummy,” You extended a single finger, running it up the length of his prick, following a particularly pronounced vein, “Thinking that I might just let it sit there, be a shame to mess up something so pretty.”

“Mommy,” James sniffled, “Mommy please, I need your hand, I need to cum pretty please, I’ve been your good boy, I deserve to cum.”

You let out a dry chuckle, expertly recapturing his cock in your hand you resumed your hand’s motions on his length. Your movements were considerably quicker than they had been, as you tugged on his prick you tugged him closer and closer to his orgasm until the tears pooling in his eyes leaked out of the corners. Leaving twin trails down his temples as his pleading eyes stared into yours.

“You think you deserve to cum baby? You think you deserve for Mommy to let you make a mess all over her hand?”

“Uh huh,” He whined, squeezing his eyes closed as he nodded his head vigorously, James pulled the soft cushion of his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting harshly before releasing it in all of its swollen glory.

“I don’t know pretty boy, I think you can wait a bit longer, yeah? Be mommy’s good boy and wait till she tells you you’ve deserved it.” You countered.

Not satisfied with your answer James protested, “But Mommy-” But you quickly shut him up with a quick slap to the inside of his thigh. Not hard enough to actually hurt, just leave a pleasant stinging sensation as you rubbed your hand over the offending skin.

“Be quiet Jamie, you’ll cum when mommy says you can cum and not a fucking moment sooner,” A scowl formed on your face, evidence that you were not pleased with his contesting your ruling. Wanting to punish him for his not listening to you, you pulled even more harshly at his cock, wanting to get him so close to orgasm that he was but a subby puddle, ready to do your bidding. 

“Look at you,” You cooed, your voice now carrying slight mocking as traced a delicate finger along the planes of his toned abs, following the dips and ridges, watching as he shuddered under your touch. “So pretty like this, all splayed out for me, you look so beautiful baby, so beautiful.”

“Thank you Mommy,” James groaned, “Mommy’s pretty too.”

“Good boy,” You smiled, leaning over to smear a gentle kiss along his brow, never once releasing his cock from the confines of your hand. “But if you think flattery’s gonna make Mommy let you cum, you’ve got another thing coming.”

You took a sick delight in watching him writhe and whimper beneath you as you torturously denied him his orgasm until it was too much for him to take. 

His movements had him flailing around the bed as he tried so hard to listen to you, but he could feel the fire burning in his belly and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore, no matter how desperately wanted to.

“Mommy I’m gonna cum,” He screamed, bucking his hips into your hand, “I need to cum Mommy please, pretty please.”

“No,” You snipped, “Mommy’s already let you cum tonight baby, twice, no cumming until she says you can, you know the rules.” And you were right, you’d already allowed him to cum down your throat twice as you took him all the way to his pubic bone.

Your words didn’t seem to completely register with him as he continued to buck into your hand before eventually releasing his load, “Mommy I’m so sorry,” He screamed as he came on your hand, coating it in his sticky release. 

“I’m cumming, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He cried as his orgasm washed over him, completely overwhelming him in pleasure until he could barely even mumble out apologies. 

Watching as he trembled beneath you you continued jacking him off, using his cum as a lubricant, making it easier to move your hand along his shaft. 

“Baby,” You crooned, wiping the tears off of his face with the pads of your fingers.

“S’too much Mommy, too much.” His whines were positively pathetic as he pushed his hips into the mattress, trying to put distance between his cock and your hand.

A frown found its way to your lips, “But you came without permission love, can’t just let that go unpunished, what kinda Mommy would I be if I did?”

“I know,” He whined, shamelessly squirming, trying to get out of your hold, “I’m sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

You understood that, you had edged him for the past hour or so and you weren’t sure if even you could’ve lasted that long but he didn’t get to cum without permission, he knew that. 

“Don’t wanna hear your excuses Jamie,” You were increasingly aware of how his oversensitive prick twitched in your hand, “I know it was hard baby but you know you’re not allowed to cum without permission don’t you?”

“Yes Mommy, I know.”

“You gotta take your punishment for me then baby,” You explained, moving your hand to tweak one of his nipples before pulling the sensitive bud between your fingers, where you then pinched them.

“P-punishment?” He stuttered out, his wide eyes, drowned in guilt, staring back up at yours. 

“Yes baby, punishment, you broke one of my rules didn’t you?” If only the boy lying in front of you knew just how much power he had over you. He wasn’t even trying, but just watching him get off was enough to flood your panties. 

“I’m sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to be a bad boy,” He sobbed and the frankly pathetic tone of his voice as he apologized to you for the umpteenth time in the last couple of minutes was almost enough to make you relent, but not quite.

“I know my love, and you weren’t a bad boy, just a naughty boy,” What you did next counteracted the sweetness of your words as you poked your tongue out just enough to kitten lick the sensitive tip of his cock, taking immense delight as more cum leaked out of his prick. The taste of his seed was the usual perfect salty sweet blend it always was but something about that cum being, for lack of a better word, forbidden, made it taste all that much better. 

“J-just naughty? Not bad?” He pleaded with both his eyes and his words, needing the praise he was so used to.

“Just naughty.” You confirmed, releasing his prick for a moment before lightly slapping your open palm against it, reveling in the way his entire body jumped at the sensation. “Now Jamsie, you gonna take your punishment like a good boy, yeah?”

“Yes,” He forced out through gritted teeth.

“Yes who?”

“Yes, Mommy.” 

“That’s better,” You praised, continuing to overstimulate him, relishing the noises he made until whimpers turned into him bawling as fat teardrops raced down his face and down his neck.

“M’so sorry mommy, m’so sorry,” James cried shamelessly trying his best not to move.

“You were so eager to cum baby, just giving you what you wanted,” You condescended running your fingers through his locks once again to get a solid grip on them before yanking pulling a strangled moan from his lips. “Is this not what you wanted baby? Thought this was what you wanted when you came without my permission? Just giving you what you clearly want, now are you gonna be good? You said you would.”

In response you recieved a gasp as he released onto your hand again, somehow even more than last time. Feeling both selfish and wicked you bent forward, trading your earlier kitten licks for engulfing the entirety of the head of his cock, slurping on it as one would a lollipop. 

The moan that ripped it’s way out of his throat was pornographic as his sensitive cock was overstimulated by the feeling of your warm, velvety mouth wrapped around it. As you allowed his cock to rest against the flat of your tongue you noticed that his cries for you to stop, that he was sorry had quieted to muffled whimpers explained by the hand clamped over his mouth. 

The sight sent a surge of pride through you, here Jamie was being as obedient for you as ever because he knew what he had done was not okay. That he had broken Mommy’s rules, it was why he was so rarely punished.

Inhaling deeply through your nose you took him all the way down your throat so that the tip of his dick rested deep inside of your throat. You could feel him twitch inside of your throat and if it wasn’t the most amazing thing to feel that you didn’t know what was. Smiling around his length you decided that if his silence was anything to go by James had learned his lesson. Feeling merciful for the first time that night you swallowed around his cock, feeling him shoot what would be his last load of cum for the night down your throat. 

Once he was done you eased him from your mouth, careful to keep your teeth away from his softening length.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson baby?” You asked the ruined boy beneath you as you rose to your full height before bending at the waist to smear a kiss along his cupid’s bow.

Too fucked out to use his words James gave you a small nod, his eyes lids resting closed with his lips parted, taking deep inhales of breath as he recovered from his orgasms.

“Can you use your words for me?” You lilted brushing away the hair that couldn’t seem to stay out of his face.

After a deep inhale he did, “Yes Mommy, I’ve learned my lesson,” His voice was hoarse, he sounded parched and he probably was.

Easing him up so that he was leaning up against the headboard you plucked his glasses from the bedside table, beginning to ease them onto his face before you noticed how sweaty he was. Letting the glasses rest in your lap you pulled your wand from the drawer of the nightstand using it to summon a glass of water and a damp washcloth from the bathroom. 

Beginning with the cloth you wiped the sweat from his brow before tracing the damp fabric down the sides of his face, calming the heated skin as praise after praise tumbled from your lips. 

“Such a good boy for me Jamie, took your punishment so well my love.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” He was still breathless.

“Don’t need to thank me anymore my love, s’time for Mommy to clean you up, yeah? Gonna help you get cleaned up for bed.”

“M’not tired,” He insisted, though if his closing eyes were any indication, he most definitely was.

Suppressing a chuckle you laid the washcloth on his thigh to soothe the warm flesh there as you brought the perspiring glass up to his lips, easing them apart to allow the cool, sweet liquid to drizzle down his throat.

“There you go darling,” You eased the glass apart from his lips to set it down and replaced it with the cloth that you continued to trace his skin with, brushing it up and down his chest and stomach, careful to avoid his sensitive nipples.

“Glasses please,” He mumbled, his hand groping at your leg, “Wanna be able to see you.”

“Of course,” You smiled, balancing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose allowing the world to come back into focus for him as he smiled at you. “Can you take another sip of water for me, pretty boy?” You asked, slipping the glass into his hands, allowing them to bring it to his lips.

He did as you asked before holding the glass in between his legs, “Did I do a good job for you, Mommy?” He looked at you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry I came without permission I just-”

“I know baby,” You cut him off gently, “You didn’t do it on purpose but Mommy still had to punish you, you understand right darling?”

He gave you a bashful nod.

“Good my love, it doesn’t make you any less of my good boy,” You gently reached for his member, handling it with the utmost care as you brought the wet cloth to it, knowing that it wouldn’t be a pleasurable experience for him you were efficient in cleaning the cum off.

James hissed at the sensation, once again squirming to escape your grasp. “Gotta clean you up baby, be quick I promise,” And you were, not wanting to prolong his discomfort any further. 

As James took yet another sip from the glass, one he very much needed, you pushed yourself up from the bed, traipsing over to the dresser where you removed a pair of sweatpants for him and a pair of panties to wear with one of his t-shirts for you.

You offered to help him put on his pants but James insisted that he was fine, standing up to slip the pants over his feet before pulling the waistband up where your fingers found the cord, tying it in a loose bow. 

James’ body was malleable as the two of you settled into bed, with you curled into his chest you faced each other, drawing a single finger up and down his sternum. 

“I really am proud of you baby,” You whispered, feeling as though if you spoke too loudly then it would disrupt the peace that had settled over the room. 

“Just wanted to make you happy (Y/N),” He admitted quietly, his lips pressed into your scalp muffling his words slightly. 

Throwing an arm around his waist you pulled your body even closer to his allowing you to rest your head up against his chest so that you could listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart inside of his rib cage. 

The two of you laid there for so long, just absorbing the presence of the other person that you thought he must’ve fallen asleep for it was often difficult for the dark haired boy to stay silent for all that long. But as you pulled away slightly so that you could slip his glasses back off of his face so that he wouldn’t break them in his sleep you found hazel eyes staring back down at you.

“You’re not asleep,” Though your words were accusatory, your tone was not, more observational than anything.

“Neither are you,” Your boyfriend countered.

You giggled gently, “Touche.”

It was so easy to get lost in James’ eyes, that maybe you held eye contact for a few seconds, maybe for a few minutes, maybe for half an hour. But it broke as you let out a yawn, a give away to your state of exhaustion. 

“M’tired too,” James said, smiling at how beautiful you looked, even mid yawn.

“We should go to bed,” You reasoned, though your eyes locked back onto his.

“Uh huh, probably,” He agreed, he too not breaking eye contact.

And though you were both exhausted you laid there, in each other’s arms, gazing into each other’s eyes, both of you refusing to be the one to shatter the intimacy of the eye contact and close your eyes first.

That was until James eyelids became too heavy with sleep for him to fight and they gently fluttered closed. Not a minute later he started emitting, soft snores and you knew he was asleep.

Craning your neck you pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose whispering to him softly, “I won.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete @reallyraunchyrory 

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #sub!james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter smut #James Potter aftercare

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Personal Training (Choi Jongho + Song Mingi) Rated

Pairing: Dilf! Choi Jongho × Younger! Reader (Female) × Dilf! Song Mingi

Genre: Smut, Slight Angst, Fluff.

Summary: Wanting to get closer to her P.T for so long, who would have thought it would take his friend to be able to break the tension between them?

Word Count: 4.6+K

Warnings: Age differences (but still within legal boundaries), public sex, thigh riding, oral (male and female receiving), face fucking, orgasm denial, slight size kink, slight degradation, brief mention of the word 'daddy', unprotected sex (always use protection), creampie, threesome, Dom! Jongho, Dom! Mingi, Sub! Reader.

Taglist: @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @brie02 @deja-vux @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny

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"Oh god no."

The muscular male let out a long and exhausted sigh as he watched the perky and enthusiastic trainee wave at him as she poked her head at the entrance door to the gym. His athletic friend next to him heard his exhaustion and looked to see what the source of the trouble was.

"Who's that Jongho?" He pointed to the girl who was letting herself inside the gym, hassling a little when her bag got caught as the door was closing.

"That's Y/N, the newest person I'm training. You know? The one I told you about?"

The light bulb went off in his friend's head, recalling Jongho mentioning bits and pieces of information about the new trainee that enlisted his help. He looked back at the young woman, assessing her briefly with his eyes.

"She's cute."

Jongho shook his head as he picked up the weight he had dropped when he heard the excited voice call out to him.

"Yeah I know Mingi. Too cute." He grumbled.

The lively girl ran up to her P.T and the stranger that she had never seen before, but one look at him and she was just as mesmerized by him like she was with her trainer. He was taller than Jongho and although not as bulky as him, he still had a handful of muscles that were making her weak.

"So what are we working on today?"

Jongho gave her a puzzled look.

"Ummm we're not scheduled to train today Y/N. Remember? It's sort of a holiday, hence why the gym is empty." He reminded her, although it didn't surprise him that she'd show up just to see him.

"If we're not supposed to be here, then why are you here?" She counteracted his statement, arms crossing over her chest as her foot tapped against the floor mat.

Jongho looked over to Mingi, who looked like he was about to burst out laughing, lips pursed tightly to keep from making a sound.

"Me and my friend were actually just leaving now Y/N, so it was really pointless for you to come. Just go out, have fun with friends. Have a little cheat day if you even want." He tried everything to get the girl to leave, hoping she'd get convinced. He thought he made good progress when she slumped her bag over her shoulder, but he was wrong. Y/N wasn't about to let him go that easily.

"Then may I join you two? I don't have any plans for the day and I'd just...really like to spend some time with you today Coach." She bit her lip at him, hoping he'd get the hint.

Jongho's eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets, his friend turning around to take a sip of his water bottle as he slowly walked away from the pair, smirking to himself at how funny the situation was. Clearing his throat, Jongho stood up straighter and looked Y/N in the eye.

"I'm- I'm sorry Y/N, I think that it'll be best for you to go now."

He turned around and began picking up his stuff, trying to ignore the fact she was not only still standing behind him, but was actually coming closer to him.

"Do you not think I'm pretty coach? Am I not attractive enough for you? Have you never thought about me in that way.....even once?" He could hear the heartbreak in her voice, positive that if he turned to look at her, a childish pout would be plastered on her features. Indeed, as he glanced briefly back at her, her bottom lip was slightly quivering.

"I think you're very beautiful Y/N, but thinking about you in that way, much less getting into a relationship with one of my trainees is very unprofessional. So I think it's best if we keep our ties strictly business related. Plus..... I'm way older than you."

She shook her head at that,

"So? I don't mind the age difference and it could stay a secret between us if you'd like." She took his hand in her own, squeezing them as if her life depended on it, her eyes begging him to finally say yes.

"Y/N I..... I'm sorry. I can't."

Pulling his hand away, Jongho quickly gathered his stuff before rushing past her to make his way to the showers, leaving the helpless girl there stunned and with a hollow feeling. She looked at his figure that disappears with a heartfelt longing. She couldn't understand why he was so cold to her. There's no way he wasn't attracted to her, she'd caught him staring at her one too many times while she did squats and there was even that time where he nearly kissed her as he helped her do crunches. So why did he avoid her as if she had the plague. She didn't realize that she wasn't completely alone until she felt a figure looming behind her.

"Tsk tsk tsk. What a shame to leave such a pretty and young woman like that when she's practically throwing herself at you. He always was rather dense and stoic you know."

Placing his hands gently on her shoulders, Mingi rubbed his thumbs on the top of them, a slight smile tugging at one of the corner's of his lips.

"If I were him, I wouldn't hesitate to say yes to someone like you."

Y/N shuddered slightly when she felt his lips press against her ear.

"I'm not Jongho, but if you wanna forget about him for a few minutes, I'll be in the male sauna room. If you're interested of course." Even though she couldn't see his face, Y/N could practically feel his lascivious smile bearing down on her smaller figure, and it made her press her thighs together. Patting her on the bum with a firm grip, Y/N inadvertently exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding in as she watched Mingi send her a flirty wink before making his way down the hall and out of her sight. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she pondered over Mingi's words. She wasn't going to deny that he wasn't attractive. He was devilishly handsome, not to mention tall as hell and the size difference between them was making her soak her panties even more. And she had absolutely nothing else to do......

What was the worse that could happen?

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Hearing the door open then close immediately, Mingi smiled at the figure that had just came in, her body covered by the small towel tucked around her chest. Looking her up and down, Mingi not so subtly grazed over the bulge that was already poking out from underneath the towel tied around his waist.

"So you actually came. I'm actually quite surprised."

Patting his lap, he beckoned for her to come over and place herself on top of it, which she obediently did with no hesitation. When she sat down, the knot at the front of the towel came loose, nearly falling down, but luckily she caught it just in time before anything peaked out.

"Oh come now little one, don't be shy. Why don't you show me that pretty body of yours?" Mingi lifted his hands to her waist, smoothing out the cotton fabric that was keeping him from gazing upon her bare figure.

Lifting herself up just slightly, Y/N slowly peeled the towel off herself, letting it drop to the floor before perching herself back on top of Mingi's thick thighs.

"Oh geez. You're even more stunning than I imagined. Absolutely breathtaking."

Y/N closed her eyes as she let Mingi wander his large hands across her bare body. She felt embarrassed about being unable to contain her soft, murmured shaky breaths as he cupped both breasts in his palms and massaged them amply. She shuddered when his thumbs brushed back and forth across her nipples, highly sensitive to any touch placed on them. Mingi of course knew this and thus decided to take advantage of it. He tweaked and pinched at her tiny buds, enjoying the tiny shrills she was voicing out.

"If you're already like this with my hands on your chest, how will you be when I play with that pussy of yours my little one?"

Y/N emitted a long groan, her already aroused core secreting more slick that was pooling on the towel underneath her. She didn't think that nickname would affect her so much, but it was definitely doing something.

"Like being called that? Like being reminded that I'm not only taller but also much older than you doll?" And he hit on another one of her weaknesses, turning her into absolutely putty, even more so as his hand came down to brush against her mound.

"You really are something else doll. Jongho told me several things about you. Showing up in skimpy workout clothes just so he'd look at you, purposefully bending over so he'd check out your ass. Even asking him for help during stretching just so he'd lay his hands on you. By the looks of it, you're just a little slut that wants to get fucked so badly."

Y/N whined as his fingers came down to work on her clit, swirling around it in a slow and gentle pace.

"You're so dirty you even accepted to get fucked by your crush's best friend because you're that desperate." Mingi shook his head with a fake disappointment. His fingers started to go a little faster, rubbing fervently across her little button. Y/N's breathing started to quicken as well, her hips grinding against Mingi's thigh to the rhythm he moved his fingers on her clit.

"It kinda irks me to know I'm just a replacement for Jongho......" He let out an amused scoff as he suddenly halted all movements on her clit.

"Guess I'll have to fuck you so damn hard so you forget he even exists."

Y/N gasped when she was suddenly pulled off his lap so he could turn her to face him. Y/N's face turned a bright crimson color when Mingi pulled the towel off his waist, his cock springing free and standing erect. She couldn't stop staring. There was no mild way to put it: Mingi was huge. Bigger than anything she'd seen or taken in any of her holes. It scared yet thrilled her to think that cock would be in her at any moment. Mingi clasped a hand on her chin, making her turn her gaze back to his face.

"Glad to know you're drooling over my cock. "

Taking hold of her waist once again, Mingi guided her so she would be sitting right on top of his right thigh. He exhaled deeply when he felt her wet folds come in contact with his bare skin. He couldn't wait to feel her come undone all over them. Giving her ass cheeks a tiny squeeze, he dropped one hand down to strike against one of them.

"Don't just sit there little one. Rut yourself on my thigh like a bitch in heat." He ordered her.

Steadying her hands on top of his broad shoulders, Y/N began to grind her hips down onto his thigh. Mingi's thighs were extremely thick, toned, and the muscles were absolutely amazing for riding. Everytime she'd push herself up, Mingi would make sure to flex his thigh so that her bundle of nerves would be more stimulated. She kept a nice and easy pace so far, feeling bliss at rubbing her core all over his thigh. Mingi didn't seem too pleased though.

"Come on darling. I know you can do better than that."

Taking it as a challenge, Y/N gripped tighter onto his shoulders as started moving faster. She shut her eyes as her mouth began heaving out harsh pants. She rode Mingi's thighs as if it was the last thing she was going to do. His hands which were on her hips decided to take control, moving her down as they wanted her to. Mingi forced her even faster on his skin, his eyes fixed on seeing how her folds were coating the top of his thighs with her slick. And he could tell she preferred him guiding her pace, her breathing had hitched and become more intense when he took over her.

"Oh? Are you going to cum already?" Mingi chuckled when he noticed she started whimpering.

"I- yes." Y/N admitted shyly, her hands dropping from Mingi's shoulders to his chest, palms pressed against the top of his pecs.

"Damn. How horny and needy were you that you're about to come undone this fast?" Mingi teased her, to which Y/N pouted.

"Very."

Of course she was, Mingi thought. She came all the way over just to see if Jongho would fulfill her fantasy and fuck her, so no doubt she was horny since she left her house. Luckily for her, Mingi was a very giving individual.

"Then go ahead little one. Cum all over daddy's thigh."

Y/N let out a sharp and high pitched cry as she started to cum all over Mingi's thigh. He held her in place, continuing to rubbed his thigh against her clit to further heighten the sensation of her climax. Leaning his face forward, he placed tiny kisses in between her breasts as she started to recover from high she went through. With her back turned and Mingi's face buried in her chest, neither one of them noticed the door opening until the one coming in slammed it close behind him in am angry manner.

"What the fuck?!"

Both of them turned to see a very furious Jongho standing there, fists clenching and unclenching as he took in the state the two people in front of him were in. While Y/N looked horrified to see him there, Mingi had a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he gripped the girl closer to him.

"Nice to see you Jongho. Came to watch the show?" Mingi snickered.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with her Mingi? You're taking advantage of her!" Jongho accused in an indignant manner.

Mingi raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not taking advantage of her when she herself came to me willingly. Honestly I'm just doing what she wanted you to do to her."

Jongho widened his eyes at that.

"Wait what are you-"

"Come on! Stop acting dense man. You know she's been wanting you to fuck her since the day she met you, yet you barely even bat an eyelash at her. So I'm giving her what you won't and she's not complaining."

Lifting her up, Mingi turned her to face Jongho, setting her back on his lap as he made sure to spread her legs so his friend could see the mess that had already been made in between her thighs. Although he tried to look away, being faced with his trainees nude figure had an immediate effect on him, which his friend obviously noticed.

"Just look at her lust filled face, look at her wet pussy begging to be fucked and tell me- No.... tell her you still don't want her."

Jongho looked up to find Y/N staring at him with pleading eyes, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. He started to have an internal conflict with his mind and body, one reminding him to stop and turn around right then while the other screamed at him to just give in.

"So what'll it be Jongho? Are you really gonna leave this beautiful girl, who's lusting for you, just like that?" Mingi spoke up again.

Before Jongho could say anything, Y/N's voice finally piped up.

"Please Coach. Just this once? Don't you want to fuck me?"

Jongho stifled back a groan at her persistence, his resolve was growing even weaker, more so when he saw Mingi lean in and start kissing across Y/N's neck. He pressed his lips against her, murmuring something which she seemed to agree with. Next thing Jongho knew, Y/N got off Mingi's lap and went over to him, getting on her knees in front of him as her hands reached for the towel that was girded at his hips.

"Wait- what are you?"

"Just let her be man. She just wants to show you how much she wants you."

Jongho gulped when he felt Y/N's hand wrap around his base. Looking up at him, she started to pump her hand up and down his shaft, her thumb circling around his tip so his precum could help in easing the handjob she was giving him. Y/N hummed as her eyes fell from Jongho's face to his cock. He was so thick, thicker than Mingi, although not as long as his friend. Nevertheless, he was packing a lot and his size made her mouth water. She began thinking about how far it could reach in her mouth. Itching to find out, she brought the head to her lips, tongue dipping into the slit before swirling around it to coat it with her spit.

"Fucking hell.." Jongho gasped, hands coming out to cup her jaw as she eased her mouth down his length, not stopping until she gagged when she felt him hit the back of her mouth, surprisingly not just the man in front of her, but his friend who was anxiously watching in the back.

Y/N closed her eyes and hummed as she pulled off his length before sinking it back inside her. Every time she stuffed him back in, she made she to give his length a long suck that made Jongho moan out in ecstasy. He couldn't deny it, he was enjoying it. Enjoying watching as his hot, young trainee was slurping around his cock, head bobbing as her tongue stroked all over him, making sure that not one inch of him was left dry or unsucked. Her cheeks were stuffed with all of him, tongue too busy occupied with making him feel good. Too good in fact. Before Y/N could even realize it, Jongho was pulling her off him. He chuckled lowly when he heard her disappointed whine as he made her stand up again.

"As much as I would have enjoyed watching you swallow me, I think I'd prefer to cum inside that little hole of yours. If it's all right with you of course." Jongho smiled so innocently at her, thumb grazing over her upper lip as he pushed her back to sit down on the upper deck of the sauna, right next to Mingi. He moved her so she laying right in between them, parting her legs so he could drop his head to hover right above her mound.

"I know someone who would be more than willing to have you swallow his cum though." Jongho signaled towards Mingi, who shifts himself so his cock could be right in front of her face. He smirked at her surprised face, slapping each of her cheeks with his tip.

"That is if she can even make me cum." Mingi challenged, sparking the competitive side of Y/N.

"Trust me, you'll be spilling yourself in her before you even know it." Jongho assured him.

Y/N parted her lips and moaned as Mingi engulfed her wet heat with his long dick. He gave a few experimental thrusts, wanting her to get comfortable before he got rough about it. He loved playing that game, starting off sweet and gentle before face fucking his lovers until they were a complete and utter mess around him. He rested his fingers on the sides of her cheek, carefully guiding her movements so she could suck him as he liked. He was caught off guard when she suddenly moaned loudly around him, the vibrations being felt all over his lower half.

"Jongho can you at least give a warning?" Mingi had looked over to see Jongho already burying his face in Y/N's heat.

"Nope. I prefer the surprise factor." He winked over at him.

Parting her wet lips, Jongho licked a long stripe along her slit before laying his tongue flat against her little button. Alternating between flicking his wet muscle on her clit and then tugging it forward with his lips as they lightly nibbled on it, Jongho's ears were attentive as he tried to listen to any sound coming from her mouth that were currently muffled by Mingi's cock. But her body reactions were enough to let him know she was enjoying it, given how she'd grind her hips up closer to his face.

"Someone is enjoying getting eaten out." Jongho smirked as continued suckling onto her clit.

"Yeah so much that she can't concentrated on sucking me off."

Deciding that it was time to get her attention back, Mingi gripped her jaw as he pushed his entire length until she was choking around him, holding it there before pulling out. Y/N had just enough time to take a deep breath before he was plunging his cock back inside. She was spurting out garbled whines, drool starting to trim down the sides of her lips and falling on the sides of her cheeks. She was so stuffed with Mingi's cock while Jongho ate her out to the fullest and it only fueled the growing arousal piling up inside her. She concentrated on relaxing her jaw and slurping around the cock lodged in her throat while simultaneously trying to enjoy as her coach's mouth worked on her core, expertly bringing her closer and closer to the edge with each swipe of his tongue. Feeling Mingi's dick twitch, she herself was about to spill over when Jongho dipped his tongue at her entrance, nose pressed down agains her clit.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum- cum inside that pretty mouth of yours."

Without any further words, only shaky grunts, Mingi held her face in place as he furiously rutted his hips up, pumping his cum into her mouth which she gulped back with no problem. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out his softening dick, a line of spit being drawn as he removed his cock. Her lips were swollen and covered with a mixture of her saliva and his cum, making her look even more irresistible, especially when her bottom lip was poking out, presumably due to the fact the man between her legs had detached his lips from her heat a few seconds ago, denying her from the orgasm that she was just about to have. With a frown plastered on, she looked down at Jongho, who was sitting up and climbing in between her body.

"Don't give me that look you little vixen. It's only serving to make me want to fuck you even harder." He admitted, lips ghosting over her own.

"So why don't you?" Y/N questioned him, to which Jongho responded by pulling both of her legs and resting them on his shoulders. Taking hold of his dick, he rubbed his bulbous tip along her reddened clit before slapping it a couple times.

"Think I won't?"

Pushing in with one quick thrust, Jongho's immensely thick cock started working her open, walls stretching out to accommodate the intrusion of his member. Y/N could feel him so deep inside her, she was sure if she be able to, she'd probably feel him on her lower abdomen. She could already feel him rearranging her organs from how hard he was pounding into her, it would be a miracle if she'd even be able to walk afterwards. When she tried to close her eyes and drop her head to just succumb to the feeling, she felt Jongho's hand clasp around her chin and hold her face up so she could look at him.

"Don't shut your eyes. I want to see every expression you make as I fuck your tiny pussy. After all, isn't this what you wanted?"

Y/N cried out louder when his pace got faster and harsher. She tried desperately hard to keep looking at him but it was unbearable, especially when her inner thighs were starting to get sore.

"Wanted me to fuck you? Are you happy you finally got what you wanted?"

She could only manage to respond with groans and pants. Their heated and sweaty bodies began sticking to each other, the loud slapping of skin resonating through the room. Jongho kept his eyes fixed on her, staring with fiery intensity at her. He kept driving his cock into her, pounding so deep that he'd be able to break her if he wanted to. But he was content with watching her slowly come undone by him, her shaky breaths and trembling thighs signaling him that she was on the verge of exploding all around him.

"Awww you're gonna cum already? Are you that easy? Or is it cause your finally getting fucked by a real man that you're coming undone so fast?"

Y/N whimpered and started writhing underneath him, tears pooling at the sides of her eyes as the knot in her stomach was seconds away from breaking loose. Jongho's hands gripped down on her thighs to keep him steady as his hips continued slamming against hers. His fingers dug into her soft skin, threatening to leave bruises from how strong he was clutching at her. His face continued to look smug and full of pride as he looked at how worn out his trainee was looking. He'd never outwardly admit it, but he enjoyed seeing her disheveled appearance after working her so hard and push her limits. Only now that feeling was intensified by the fact his dick was getting wet by her juices.

"Cum all over me then. Cum all over my fat cock you little vixen." He ordered her, eyes filled with lust and desire to see her break in front of him.

Unable to keep her eyes open anymore, Y/N scrunched her eyes shut and blood rushing to her head as her walls contracted around Jongho's cock, clinging to him as a flood of release was spilling all over him. Her palms were heavy pressed onto the wood deck under her, laying flat as she began to unwind from her orgasm. Just a minute later after savoring her reaction, Jongho's hips jerked sporadically as he started emptying himself inside her. Keeping himself lodged in her warmth, he slowed down his thrusts, making sure to pump all of his essence inside her before gently pulling out of her. Both of them released hisses at the sting and emptiness of not being connected anymore. Jongho looked in fascination as the brim of her hole was still leaking out his white, milky cum, a sense of pride washing over him at seeing a part of him be plastered into her body.

"You ok?"

Y/N let out a tired groan as Jongho helped her sit back up.

"I don't think I can walk." She wrapped a hand around her stomach, already feeling a burn on the muscles. Jongho giggled at her, pulling her against him as he kissed the top of her head

"If you want, I can take you off the schedule until you recover properly." He offered.

"And not see you?" She raised an eyebrow.

Poking her nose, Jongho shook his head.

"Silly silly girl. Obviously I'll come over to check up on you."

Y/N's face brightened up with a smile as she realized what he meant. A loud and exaggerated clearing of a throat broke them out of their little world.

"Well since obviously I'm not needed here anymore, I'll just take my leave now."

Picking up his towel and wrapping it around him again, Mingi went over to the door to give them privacy, but not before making sure of something.

"Just be sure to invite me once in a while to join you both."

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez reactions #ateez angst #ateez dilf au #dilf!ateez #ateez jongho fluff #ateez jongho fanfic #ateez jongho smut #ateez jongho scenarios #ateez mingi smut #ateez mingi scenarios #ateez mingi fanfic #ateez mingi imagines #ateez mingi fluff #ateez jongho imagines #choi jongho #song mingi #choi jongho smut #song mingi smut #choi jongho scenarios #song mingi scenarios #choi jongho imagines

[mxvladdy]

hi!! just wanted to say i LOVE your writing omg!! sorry if ur not taking requests but i was wondering if you could continue that prompt about MC being fascinated by their horns/tails with barbatos and diavolo??? thank you!!

Ahhhh thankie! And of course! Our bougie boyos need love too.

Barbatos

He hasn’t had a human fascinated in his horn or tail in-well… Ever really. He never has had a reason to show his demonic form to a mortal before. He is hardly out of the kingdom, and when he is it is for a quick errands to humor His Lordship. So when you ask he is taken by surprise but will happily comply with your wishes.  

His horns are delicate and feel like spun glass in your hands. They pulse with a low hum of  energy underneath the thin membrane of his finger like horns. You can’t get over how delicate they are up close. While they look so rigid from far away, they are quite malleable. The joints move just as fluidly as the demon who grew them.

You never realized how sensitive the man was until you are gently rubbing and petting at the shiny horns. It’s the only time he is putty in your hands. He uses how sensitive they are to his advantage. Though their minute twitches and adjustments he can pick up even the faintest movements from even the most secluded corners of the castle. 

He appreciates the jewelry you buy for his horns but turns them down gently explaining that it dampens his ability to sense things. He uses them instead to decorate the many doors in his room. Diavolo gets a kick out of walking into his private rooms and seeing all the knobs and windows littered with ornate pieces of jewelry or multicolored knots of silk. He adds to it too, but it’s not as special as the ones you gifted him.

In return for your presents he will give you his shedding's. He finds this magpie-like tendency you exhibit endearing. It makes him smile when he sees how excited you are for the bits he gives you. The flaky shavings on his horns are paper thin but when they hit the light sparkle like freshly falling snowflakes. They crumble easily but the dust they make is gorgeous. You collect a bit of it and turn it into jewelry to parade around. He lives for seeing you adorned in his likeness.

His tail is a different matter though. He lets you do whatever you wish with it. He has a soft dry brush that he uses to sluff and polish it daily. You volunteer heartily to be his personal groomer. You love stroking his sleek tail. You aren’t 100% sure on what it’s made of, but it is lovely all the same. It feels like smooth cool marble, but gives under your soft squeezing like supple leather. It is mesmerizing much like his horns when the colors fade and change lazily throughout the day. 

His tail is prehensile but not as strong as Levi’s. He can’t pick you up with it unfortunately, but he uses it mostly in the kitchen as another hand if you will. Does he show off a little more with it when you are helping in the kitchen yes, but he won’t admit it. When he has a little down time he will invite you to sit in his private parlor for tea and homemade treats. Then he lets his tail run wild.

It always finds a way to wrap itself around your waist while you sit and chat. You have gotten into the habit of expecting it wrapped around anytime you two are in the room together. One of your hands holding his and the other stroking the blue tip of his tail.

He glows with pride every time you gush about how much you love it. So far he has heard you equate it to the human practice of kintsugi. The way his natural indigo coloring mixes with the obsidian of his base and the vein is beautiful to you and you tell him regularly. He has never thought of his horns and tail and anything special. Merely an appendage that has a useful purpose to him, but now thanks to you he thinks of them as pieces of art. 

Diavolo

Poor man. Like Satan he can’t have you touching his horns directly. They are a weapon and a status symbol. They are built to kill. But he sees you cooing over the others and he wants it too-

He’ll have gloves specially commissioned just for you so you can inspect them without a care in the world. They are magically enhanced so that he can feel the warmth of your hands, and you, the heat of his horns and skin. 

He loves it when you scratch around the base of his horns, the skin there is sensitive and gets itchy so often. He has a lot of salves and oils that he uses in his morning and nightly routine to help with the constant growing pains of his still young horns. You help him with the oiling and conditioning of them in the evening while you let him vent. 

Growing season is a nightmare. He is a pouty, agitated mess. He is itchy and shedding, but unlike the brothers and Barbatos’s shavings, his are quite volatile and dangerous if they get into the wrong hands. So they have to be disposed of carefully. He sulks about that too. Why can you collect the others odds and ends but not his? 

You appease him and his childlike pouting by making matching cuffs for the two of you to wear. Yours tiny but ornate to wrap around your ears and his large and opulent to adorn his young horns. He likes to mix and match all the colors and styles you had made for him. It drives Lucifer mad seeing how he purposely makes sure that NONE of his jewelry matches his given outfit of the day.

While he has no tail he makes up for it with his wings. They are huge, supple and give the best damned hugs. He has mastered his hugging and grabbing technique with his thumbs on the tips of his bat wings. (Barbatos got use to being swept up into surprise hugs by the young lord years ago)

You are always excited for a four winged hug plus his two strong arms. If you were feeling down beforehand, well no more! His wings seem to exude a warm dry heat so on cold nights you always seem to find him close by offering to help ward off the chill.  

The leather like hide of them is very thick and rough, but you can touch them without the use of gloves thankfully. If you had to use gloves to touch every part of his demon form he would cry. 

The material of his wings is very porous and gets dirt and bacteria build up very easily if he keeps them out too long. They are for special occasions (you), formal events, or a show of force. 

To counteract this he has special medicated soaps and antiseptic lotions to use. He shows you how to apply them too. He loves the company and it gives Barbatos a break. If you see any scraps of damage on his skin while working on them he can feel you give each a little kiss before moving to the next one. 

His wings come out to play more often than not now, just so he can have more of your attention.

#obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #request!

[queeranarchism]

Hey! I saw your post about how hiveminds are represented poorly, where you then talked about how anarchists form a consensus among large groups. I was wondering how this process of forming a consensus typically works, because I always thought people did have a vote.

Most anarchist communities don’t vote. Because whenever we vote, a majority gets what they want and a minority doesn’t. And this could mean there is dissatisfaction, which leads to internal strife, anger, bitterness, mistrust. Or worse this could mean there is injustice when a minority doesn’t get the safety, resources, access, fulfillment, they need. And that’s not what we want. For many anarchists, voting is a tool of injustice through which minority interests are suppressed. Instead, anarchists use:

1. Consensus: decisions that impact everyone are made by using a variety of techniques to get to an agreement that everyone can agree on. Consensus processes often consist of small gatherings in which affinity groups and minority caucuses talk among themselves, followed by large gatherings in which the conversation goes on until there is agreement among all (established through hand-raising or some other technique. Basically a vote that requires 100% yes).

2. Autonomy: decisions that mainly impact you and your affinity group can be made without consulting anyone. Decisions that only impact your neighborhood require a consensus within the neighborhood, etc. Basically no one not impacted by your decisions can get in your way, unless you start harming and oppression others.

3. Emergency agreements: most anarchist communities have some system in place through which some people can make fast decisions. When there’s a fire, or a flood, or an eviction, you gotta act fast. Often a what-if plan has been made in advance using consensus and that what-if plan is implemented with the use of temporary leaders or temporary voting followed by a review and re-establishment of consensus.

Consensus is the least understood of those 3 concepts because very few people can imagine acting in a community based on good faith, where no one wants their favorite option to win and everyone wants an outcome that works best for everyone. Consensus requires trust, flexible positions, really listening to minority voices and being able to settle for a less than perfect option because you recognize the needs of other people.

Electoral decision making cultivates competition, only listening to large groups who have the voting power to achieve a majority, encouraging faithfulness to a fixed position to build a majortiy and basically the opposite of all these cooperative attitudes. So if you’ve raised in majority decision making, it’s not surprising that it’s difficult to imagine people acting differently.

Seeds for Change described the consensus process as follows

The problem, or decision needing to be made, is defined and named. It helps to do this in a way that separates the problems/questions from personalities.

Brainstorm possible solutions. Write them all down, even the crazy ones. Keep the energy up for quick, top-of-the head suggestions.

Create space for questions or clarification on the situation.

Discuss the options written down. Modify some, eliminate others, and develop a short list. Which are the favourites?

State the proposal or choice of proposals so that everybody is clear.

Discuss the pros and cons of each proposal — make sure everybody has a chance to contribute.

If there is a major objection, return to step 6 (this is the time-consuming bit). Sometimes you may need to return to step 4.

If there are no major objections, state the decisions and test for agreement.

Acknowledge minor objections and incorporate friendly amendments.

Discuss.

Check for consensus.

Seeds for Change mentions that when despite multiple attempts there is no consensus, the group as a whole can:

Allow the person most concerned to make the decision.

Leave the decision for later or take a break.

Ask everyone to argue convincingly the point of view they like the least.

Break down the decision into smaller areas. See which ones you can agree on and see what points of disagreement are left.

Identify the assumptions and beliefs underlying the issue. Get to the heart of the matter.

Imagine what will happen in six months, a year, five year’s time if you don’t agree. How important is the decision now?

Bring in a facilitator. If your group is unable to work through conflicts or if similar issues keep coming up, think about bringing in a professional facilitator or mediator who is trained in conflict-resolution techniques.

& when consensus can’t be found at all and a few people consistently disagree, those who disagree with the most popular option can choose:

Non-support: “I don’t see the need for this, but I’ll go along with it.”

Standing aside: “I personally can’t do this, but I won’t stop others from doing it.”

Veto/major objection: A single veto/major objection blocks the proposal from passing. If you have a major objection it means that you cannot live with the proposal if it passes. It is so objectionable to you/those you are representing that you will stop the proposal. A major objection isn’t an “I don’t really like it “ or “I liked the other idea better.” It is an “I cannot live with this proposal if it passes, and here is why?.!”. The group can either accept the veto or discuss the issue further and draw up new proposals. The veto is a powerful tool and should be used with caution.

Leaving the group: If one person continually finds him/herself at odds with the rest of the group, it may be time to think about the reasons for this. Is this really the right for them to group to be in? 

Consensus decision making is tricky and can be flawed. Conversation facilitators often hold more power than they’re willing to admit, talented public speakers can have more impact than those anxious about speaking in a group, long crowded meetings are not accessible to all, dogmatic cliques can sabotage the process by misusing the veto, etc. Measures need to be in place to counteract this, or true consensus becomes impossible.

It’s also important not to let consensus eclipse ‘autonomy’ or to nitpick every minor decision. The answer ‘what are we having for lunch?’ shouldn’t be a consensus process. It should be ‘whatever people want, & those who want the same thing can make lunch together’. Similarly, if the question is ‘do we want a new water filter in the community garden?’, you might wanna avoid long conversations and rephrase that question to ‘Are there enough people here willing to help me build a water filter in the garden and no one who objects to a new water filter?’. Let enthusiasm to do new things thrive.

This is doubly true in a situation like an occupation, blockade, autonomous zone under pressure, etc. Resistance requires flexibility and surprise, which can not come from consensus. A resistance movement that doesn’t allow its affinity groups to roam free and exploit opportunities won’t live long.

Your movement will die if you try to do everything by general assembly and limit the power of autonomy. In my opinion, one of the most common failures that I’ve seen in anarchist organizing in Europe has been to try to limit the autonomy of its affinity groups, try to do everything by large scale consensus meeting, and when that got too time-consuming and had authority issues, switch to more voting instead of more autonomy and better consensus processes.

Some reading:

Peter Gelderloos - Consensus:  A New Handbook for Grassroots Social, Political, and Environmental Groups. (print)

Seeds for change - Consensus Decision Making https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/seeds-for-change-consensus-decision-making

C.T. Butler and Amy Rothstein - On Conflict and Consensus: a handbook on Formal Consensus decisionmaking https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/c-t-butler-and-amy-rothstein-on-conflict-and-consensus-a-handbook-on-formal-consensus-decisionm#toc8

The Inefficient Utopia or How Consensus Will Change the World        https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/curious-george-brigade-the-inefficient-utopia-or-how-consensus-will-change-the-world        

#queeranarchism #consensus #encar-murogue

[noona-clock]

What’s Your Sign?: Capricorn

Genre: Dance Studio!AU

Pairing: Jaebum x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 5,693

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

It was clear he didn’t want to be here.

And by ‘he’ you meant the dark-haired guy in your dance lesson whose facial expression betrayed that he would rather be anywhere else and doing anything else right now.

But you were a dance instructor. You’d been teaching for almost five years by now, so you had seen your fair share of begrudging students.

(Though, if you were being completely honest with yourself, none of the begrudging students you’d had so far had been quite this handsome... but that is absolutely besides the point.)

As you introduced yourself to your new class and began to go over the basics, you mentally prepared yourself to spend a little extra time with him -- the handsome, begrudging student. You’d discovered that some one-on-one time with the dancers who didn’t actually want to be dancers went a long way in helping them get more comfortable and enjoy themselves.

Usually, people who had no desire to take your class were being forced by a third party -- for some reason or another -- and it was pretty clear why they had no desire to take your class: their dancing skills left a lot to be desired.

But, only a few minutes into your instructions, you were more than surprised and shocked to see that this guy actually had some natural talent.

A lot of it.

But he also didn’t have a partner, so that one-on-one time you’d prepared for was incredibly easy to manage.

After you’d told everyone to pair off and start practicing the basic waltz square you’d just shown them, you weaved your way through the parquet floor to him with a somewhat cautious smile on your face.

If he wasn’t thrilled to be in your class in the first place, it was safe to assume he wouldn’t be thrilled for you to be his partner, but... there wasn’t much you could do about it now!

“Hi,” you greeted softly when you approached. “I noticed there wasn’t a partner for you, so I’m happy to --”

“Sure,” he muttered.

Of course, his terse interruption made you pause, but you recovered quickly and simply smiled at him. You then stepped closer to him, resting one hand on his shoulder and extending your other arm out to the side so the two of you could get into a waltzing stance.

As soon as he’d slid one hand around your waist and took the other one, grasping your fingers firmly, you waited for him to lead into the four-step box formation.

...And you almost yelped with surprise when he did.

His hold on your waist and fingers quickly became even more firm, and he pushed you subtly but confidently backward, dancing with you smoothly.

You’re not sure why this surprised you so much.

But it did.

And that made you a little uneasy.

“So,” you breathed, clearing your throat quietly. “What’s your name?”

His gaze had been inconspicuously aimed at the floor, most likely watching his feet, but it shifted to look at you when you asked your question.

“Jaebum,” he answered without hesitation, though his voice was still very brusque.

“Nice to meet you,” you replied with a slight dip of your chin. “I’m Y/N.”

“Yes, I know,” he murmured. “You introduced yourself about five minutes ago.”

You raised your eyebrows, unsure if you were bewildered or offended by his incredibly impolite response.

Probably a bit of both.

“...Right,” you said. But you had to maintain your composure and civility, so you added, “What brings you here?”

Rather than answering quickly and succinctly like he had previously, Jaebum simply furrowed his brow at you.

“You just seem less than enthusiastic, so I was curious as to why you’re here in the first place,” you explained, figuring you could at least be honest to counteract his almost-rudeness.

His forehead smoothed out, and he tilted his head to signal that you did have a point.

“One of my best friends is getting married in a few months, and he wants the wedding party to do this... dance routine.”

“And you’re not too excited about it?”

Jaebum shook his head.

“Well, if it helps, you’re a really good dancer.”

Again, Jaebum furrowed his brow at you, shooting you a confused, sidelong glance. “I am?”

He sounded genuinely perplexed which made you genuinely perplexed. He really didn’t know? Had he never taken one single dance class before?

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “You’re a natural.”

And naturally gorgeous, you thought.

Oh my god, why did you think that?

Besides the fact that it was true, of course.

To distract yourself from that thought, you added, “You haven’t taken any sort of class before?”

“No, never.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you replied with the tiniest smirk you could muster. “You’ve barely even looked at your feet this whole time, and you haven’t tripped me once.”

Of course, Jaebum instinctively looked down at his feet and almost immediately stumbled.

“See? Once you looked down and thought too much about it, you messed up. You’ve got instinct.”

An expression of clear discomfort flashed across his face, and rather than insisting that you knew what you were talking about, you simply kept silent. You were only planning on continuing this exercise for another minute or so, and you would rather not make him any more uncomfortable than he already clearly was.

But when that minute was up... you realized... that you didn’t want to stop dancing with him.

Oh, boy. 

A student who had made you feel uneasy twice in the first half-hour of class.

That was quite unprecedented.

And... very disturbing.

When the two of you got to a good stopping point, you murmured under your breath that it was time to move on.

Jaebum responded immediately, pausing his movements and loosening his hold on your hand and waist to allow you to step away.

“All right, great job,” you said, turning away to face the rest of the class and doing your best to avoid any sort of eye contact with Jaebum. “I know it may seem repetitive, but this is the foundation of a waltz. You need to be really familiar with these steps, know how to do them in your sleep, before you can move on.”

You had everyone go through the steps on their own while you played different music tracks, helping them find the four-count beat in each song and showing they could waltz to really any style of music.

All in all, it was a pretty typical class.

Except for Jaebum.

You had tried to get him -- and the way he’d briefly made you feel -- out of your mind, and while you had been mostly successful when you hadn’t been looking at him... you had been the opposite of successful when you had.

And once the hour was up, you found yourself doing something you truly hadn’t ever expected to do. The thought had never crossed your mind, yet you couldn’t stop your body from walking toward Jaebum, an anxious grin plastered on your lips.

“I was just --” you began, though you were quickly interrupted by a departing student who thanked you for a great class. “Oh, sure, you’re welcome.”

You pressed your lips together then, your gaze following the student and waiting for her to vanish through the studio door.

When she did, you looked back to Jaebum and saw that he was already looking at you, his gaze expectant. You jumped a little -- though, you weren’t quite sure why you were surprised that he was looking at you. You had been just about to say something to him.

After letting out a breathless chuckle, you inhaled sharply and continued on from earlier. “I was just wondering -- you said your friend is wanting to do some sort of routine? For his wedding?”

Jaebum nodded. “During the reception. The bridal party is all going to do a... ballroom dance... thing.”

“Do you know if the choreography is finished?”

“I believe so,” he answered, slightly lowering his brows.

You gulped.

“I -- I mean, I would be happy to help you learn it if you want to -- have the time. You could stay after class or come in whenever you’re free. I can shift things around if I need to, this job is pretty flexib --”

“Okay.”

And you were surprised yet again.

He had actually said yes? Even though you definitely sounded a bit like a bumbling idiot right now?

“Oh, good!” you said with a relieved sigh, your lips spreading into a grin.

“I can’t stay much longer today, but if you have time tomorrow?”

For some reason your instinct was to reply immediately -- in the positive, of course -- but you forced yourself to actually pull up your schedule in your head to look and make sure.

“I’m very free in the afternoon,” you told him after a few moments. “From after lunch until about four.”

Jaebum nodded tersely and said, “I can be here at two” before murmuring his thanks and heading toward the exit.

You stood there, in the same exact spot, for about five minutes after he left, mainly because you were dumbstruck. You had no idea why you’d done that, and you had no idea why you were so relieved (and excited) that he had accepted your offer.

You had literally never offered private lessons -- private free lessons! -- to a student before. Many students had requested them, absolutely, but you had never offered.

The only reason you could think of as to why you’d done this was because Jaebum was so... intriguing. He fit the stereotype almost exactly for the “Perfect Man.” Tall, dark, and handsome. Strong and silent.

...And did you mention handsome?

Very handsome.

But that was actually more of a reason not to give him private lessons. You wanted to spend more time with him, of course. But you shouldn’t.

You really, really, really shouldn’t.

Rather than wait in jittery anticipation for Jaebum to show up, you spent the first part of your day keeping as busy as you could.

You had two classes basically back-to-back in the morning, which definitely helped keep your mind off the perfectly handsome man arriving at the studio in the early afternoon. And once those classes finished, you took a lunch break and headed to a nearby deli for one of your favorite sandwiches.

Between lunch and Jaebum’s arrival time, you decided to clean the entire studio from top to bottom because that was just what you did when you were stressed or nervous: you cleaned.

A small cleaning crew visited the studio once a week to keep the floors and mirrors gleaming, of course, but it had been a little while since you’d wiped down your office and deep cleaned the reception area.

You dusted and vacuumed and scrubbed and decluttered and even rearranged some furniture just to change things up -- for almost two hours.

And it wasn’t until a quarter to two that you realized you’d made a rather large mistake.

Cleaning and rearranging furniture for two hours was hard work, and now -- fifteen minutes before Jaebum was set to arrive -- you found yourself exhausted and sweaty.

I mean, you were exhausted and sweaty a lot. Obviously. You were a dance teacher. 

But the exhausted and sweaty parts of your day were always at the end of class, after you’d done all the work, not at the beginning.

...And your classes typically did not involve an incredibly good-looking man whom you were nervous about spending time with.

After putting away the cleaning supplies in the closet, you quickly ran into the bathroom to splash some water on your face. You then headed into your office and dug around in your bag for the emergency vial of perfume you kept in there -- just in case.

Thank goodness you did because it really came in handy in this moment.

Just as you stepped out of your office and back into the studio, closing the door behind you, you heard the clack of footsteps on the dance floor.

“Hello?” a soft but deep voice called out.

You jumped a little, your gaze snapping over to the studio entrance and landing on Jaebum.

A quick glance to the clock above the mirrors showed you that he was almost ten minutes early -- and that only heightened your intrigue.

You loved a man who was early.

“Hi!” you blurted out suddenly, realizing you hadn’t yet answered him. “Hi, come on in. Welcome.”

Jaebum reached into his pocket as he walked over to you, retrieving his phone and tapping on the screen with a wrinkled forehead. “My friend sent me the video of the choreography,” he muttered, his eyes flashing up at you briefly over his phone screen.

“Oh, perfect,” you grinned. You came to a stop in front of him, resting your hands on your hips as you waited for him to find the video and show you.

“Here,” he mumbled before doing just that -- turning his phone around and showing you the video.

You leaned in, and only then did you realize this was a bad idea.

Obviously, watching something on a person’s phone meant you had to be standing rather close to that person, leaning in until your heads were almost touching.

And that’s exactly what was happening right now.

You were standing rather close to Jaebum, your heads almost touching.

And, boy, did he smell amazing.

It took almost every ounce of willpower in you to concentrate on the video and not on how amazing he smelled.

When the video finished, you took a step back, hoping you hadn’t backed away from him too obviously. If you were going to be learning this choreography together, you certainly didn’t want him to think you couldn’t stand being close to him. Because that wasn’t even true! 

It was just... difficult. In a good way. Kind of.

“That seems fairly straightforward,” you said, pushing all these thoughts out of your mind as best as you could.

“Yeah?” Jaebum asked, turning to look at you, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Absolutely. You want to give it a shot?”

He nodded and took off his jacket, hanging it up on the rack by the door before joining you in the middle of the dancefloor. He set up his phone against the mirror, and you began guiding him through the choreography, step-by-step.

Only a few minutes in, and Jaebum stopped you. “How... how do you know the routine already? We watched it once, and you’re not even referring back to the video.”

A frown curved your lips, and you lifted your shoulders into a shrug. “I... don’t know? I just remember it.”

“Seriously?” he asked with a soft chuckle of disbelief. “How?”

“I don’t know,” you repeated. “I’ve always been this way, with dance especially. I can just picture it in my mind.”

“So, you have a photographic memory.”

...How had you never realized that before?

“I guess so?” you chuckled. “I just never thought it was different than what anyone else could do.”

A half-smile tugged at Jaebum’s lips as he got back into the dancing position, and he murmured, “No. I absolutely cannot do that.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m the dance teacher,” you retorted, trying to suppress a smirk.

He laughed softly, and you ignored the fluttering in your heart.

You spent the next hour and a half going through the first part of the routine, and even though Jaebum claimed he wasn’t able to learn choreography like you did, he still caught on quickly.

“No, you’re honestly doing a great job,” you assured him after deciding to stop for the day. “I told you, you’re a natural dancer. You have instinct!”

Jaebum simply shook his head, but you saw the smile he was trying to hold back.

As he went back toward the door to retrieve his jacket, he glanced over his shoulder at you and said, “Are you free to keep going? Go over the rest of the routine?”

“Absolutely! I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that for a wedding.”

“What if it was a birthday party?”

“Yes, maybe.”

You heard Jaebum’s deep, low chuckle, and even though you’d just spent over an hour touching him and dancing with him and being extremely close to him, the sound of his laugh still sent a shiver down your spine.

What was this guy doing to you?

“What does your schedule look like?” he asked as he slipped his jacket back on.

“Oh, here -- let me write it down for you,” you said, taking a step toward your office.

“Or --” Jaebum blurted out.

You paused, raising your eyebrows and shifting your gaze to him.

“Or you could... just text it to me.” He still had his phone handy from playing the dance video on repeat during the lesson, and he held it up as to emphasize his suggestion.

“Oh!” you chirped. “Well -- I mean, yeah, sure. That -- that works.”

Jaebum opened his mouth to say something, but then he stopped himself. He narrowed his eyes slightly at you and said, “If I just tell it to you, will you remember it without having to write it down?”

Your eyes widened with minor panic. “...Yes?” you replied uncertainly even though you were absolutely certain you could do that.

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle and shook his head.

After he told you his phone number, he murmured his thanks for the lesson and then headed through the door without another word.

You waited approximately ten seconds before scrambling to your office, fishing your phone out of your bag, and quickly entering the number into your contacts.

You wouldn’t have forgotten it, but... still. You didn’t want to take any chances. It wasn’t every day that an incredibly attractive and fascinating guy gave you his phone number.

Not that you would use it for anything other than sending him your schedule.

But. Yeah.

Jaebum was absolutely incredibly attractive and fascinating.

Either Jaebum was not a busy man or he...

Well, you weren’t actually sure what the other most viable option was.

Because the only things you could think were that he just really wanted to learn this dance routine for the wedding reception... or he just really wanted to spend time with you.

And that was definitely just wishful thinking.

Either way, Jaebum was -- apparently -- able to fit in a private lesson whenever your schedule allowed.

Did he not work? Or was he taking a lot of time off for this? Or maybe his job allowed him to be flexible like yours did.

There were so many questions you wanted to ask him and so little courage you had to actually ask them.

When he came back two days after your first private lesson, you began the lesson with those questions still occupying your thoughts but ended it with another question on your mind entirely.

And, for some reason (seemingly everything about Jaebum was a mystery, I guess, including your reactions to him), you found the question tumbling from your lips as he was putting his jacket back on to leave.

You had just spent another hour and a half teaching him the second half of the choreography; another hour and a half touching and dancing with him. Maybe that had bolstered your courage enough?

“Why do you not want to do this?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. “The dance at the wedding.”

Jaebum paused for a moment before turning to face you. “I just... What -- what do you mean?”

You felt your cheeks warms, but you continued on. “You were just so... not happy to be in that first class, and... I don’t know. Whenever I bring it up, you get this look on your face.”

His eyebrows flew halfway up his forehead. “I do?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled.

He stood there just for a second before letting out a sigh and taking a few steps toward you. “To be honest, I’m not thrilled about having to dance in front of a room full of people I don’t really know.”

While you couldn’t exactly relate to the sentiment, you still understood what it was like to be scared to do something. Or, at the very least, be uncomfortable about it.

“You’re going to do a great job,” you assured him, your heart starting to skip a beat here and there as he got closer to you.

Seriously? You had just been dancing with him. Touching him. 

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you,” he said, shaking his head. “But... I’m just not... confident about it. And I don’t like that.”

Jaebum was such the epitome of the Strong and Silent type -- so far, at least -- that you couldn’t even imagine him not being fully confident in himself. And the way he danced definitely wasn’t something to be insecure about it!

“I don’t know,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “I just don’t see the point in doing a choreographed dance at a wedding.”

Okay, now that made you laugh.

“Because it’s fun,” you chuckled. “Receptions are basically just a big party, and most parties involve dancing, right?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “But they don’t have to. And you can dance without doing some full-fledged routine.”

“This is true,” you agreed, though it was mainly just to appease him.

“In my opinion, weddings should be about the marriage. The relationship. The vows you make. Not cutting a cake or a DJ playing viral songs no one really wants to hear.”

...Well. You couldn’t argue with him there.

“So, when it’s your turn to get married, you don’t even need to have a reception.”

And your heart was acting funny again. Thinking about Jaebum getting married both made you hopeful that it would be your wedding, as well, and upset that -- realistically -- it would not be. You were just his dance teacher, and he was only taking lessons until the wedding. It was highly unlikely he would come back to continue his education, and even though you had his phone number now... why would you ever have a reason to use it?

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I absolutely plan on eloping. Or only inviting my family and having just a small ceremony.”

“Ah, good. Now I know not to be offended when I don’t receive an invitation.”

Um... okay? Why? Had you just said that?

Thankfully, Jaebum simply smiled that tiny half-smile of his and let out a soft chuckle.

Was it weird that after spending time with Jaebum only three times you already knew his signature smile?

Despite the fact you had taught Jaebum the entire dance backwards and forwards and there was literally nothing else you could do to help him, he continued to request private lessons. He continued to show up whenever you had a free hour or two, no matter the time or day.

And while this behavior would usually suggest some sort of romantic feelings on his part, he also continued to be Strong and Silent.

He talked to you during your lessons, of course, but he was never talkative. He was always polite, but he wasn’t super... friendly.

So, in conclusion, you were still as mystified and confused by Jaebum as ever.

He didn’t like dancing but he was amazing at it.

He didn’t need you to teach him anymore but he still showed up at your studio.

You just wished you could peek into that brain of his -- just for a minute! -- to see what he was thinking.

And, because you were his teacher, you never felt comfortable asking why. Why was he still asking for lessons when he didn’t need them? Why was he always so guarded around you? Why did he never ask about your personal life?

I swear, if Jaebum ever asked if you had a boyfriend, your heart would absolutely combust.

Maybe one day you would ask him all those questions, but by then, he wouldn’t be coming to your classes any longer, and what would be the point?

Apparently, you were thinking too much about all of this because, all of a sudden, Jaebum’s voice broke through the haze in your mind.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice forceful enough to make it obvious it wasn’t the first time he’d said it.

“Sorry,” you replied hastily with a shake of your head. “Zoned out.”

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked as he stood by the coat rack, getting ready to put his jacket back on before he left with hardly a word.

That had become his routine after every class, and you had come to expect nothing different.

“Hmm? Oh -- no, sorry. What did you say?”

“I said the wedding is this weekend, so I won’t need to come back any more.”

...Oh.

That was not what you wanted to hear.

“Oh,” you replied, doing your best to sound... well, not upset about it. “Well, I know you’re going to do an amazing job --”

“I’m more nervous than I thought I would be,” he interrupted.

You froze, your mouth slightly hanging open and your unspoken words hanging from your lips.

But then you quickly pulled yourself together and said, “You are?”

He nodded tersely.

But he didn’t elaborate.

So, you bit. “...Why?”

“Because I know how to dance it with you, and what if it’s different with someone else as my partner?”

“I mean, yeah, it’ll be different,” you confirmed. “But you know the steps through and through. Even if the bridesmaid is a terrible dancer, you’ll be able to carry her through it, I promise.”

Jaebum let out a sigh and his head tilted forward, his chin practically touching his chest.

“You’ll be fi --”

“What I really wanted to say is that I wish it could be you and not someone else,” he said, interrupting you again in a quiet but strong voice.

...You stared at him.

And blinked.

“...Excuse me?”

Without hesitating, Jaebum strode over to you, only stopping when he was as close to you as he was while you’d danced.

You tilted your head to look up into his eyes, though yours were still too wide with shock to say anything.

“I... I feel more comfortable dancing with you than doing... anything else. And the reason I kept asking to come back even after you taught me the whole dance is because... I just wanted to be with you.”

Okay, you were fairly certain you were no longer breathing.

You certainly couldn’t speak at the moment, so it was very possible that your heart and lungs had just stopped working.

“You are... incredible,” he continued. “Confident and talented and kind and beautiful.”

You repeated the word ‘beautiful’, though you couldn’t even hear your own voice so you must have simply mouthed it.

...Was he really saying all this to you?

To you?

And since it was obvious you weren’t going to actually say anything yet, Jaebum continued.

“You’re why I haven’t stopped coming back. I only joined your class because my friend practically forced me; he’s one of my closest friends, and I would do anything for him, but I truly could not care less about this dumb wedding dance. I would have happily fumbled my way through it if you hadn’t been so... wonderful.”

Okay, at this point, you kind of felt like you were more shocked to hear this many words coming out of his mouth at once. You’d been teaching Jaebum for almost three months, and you were fairly certain he hadn’t said more than two sentences back-to-back.

And you, who normally had no trouble speaking, could only reply with a whispered, “...Really?”

Jaebum simply nodded, and you felt more at ease. A simple nod was much more in character.

But you had no idea what else to say because there was too much you wanted to say.

Apparently, your racing thoughts showed through on your face because Jaebum stopped waiting for you to say something. “I... don’t really want to invite you to be my date to the wedding since... I’m a groomsman and all. You would have to sit by yourself, and I don’t want to make you do that.”

Ah, so, he was thoughtful, too.

“So... maybe you’d like to meet up after the wedding? I mean, like, go out. Not meet up. Go out. On a... date.”

“Yes,” you replied, finally able to force some actual words out of your mouth. “Yes, I would love to. Please.”

And then, Jaebum’s lips curved into a smile.

A real smile.

A full-on, teeth-showing smile -- not the half-smile you’d gotten used to.

Your heart stopped.

I mean, it felt like it stopped.

And you were immensely glad he hadn’t smiled like this before because oh my god. You wouldn’t have been able to go on teaching him. You would’ve fainted.

Even now, you had to reach out and grab a hold of his arms to steady yourself.

But Jaebum must have thought you were going in for the hug, so took another step closer to you and slid his arms around your waist, pressing his fingers into the small of your back and enveloping you in his embrace.

It took you approximately .0001 seconds to melt into him, feeling the strong wall of his chest and the secure cage of his arms around you.

You’d danced with him countless times by now. His hands had held your waist for hours, and yet... You had never experienced this sensation before.

And you knew right then and there that you never wanted to live another day without experiencing it again.

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, SAGITTARIUS, AQUARIUS, PISCES

#kwritersworldnet #jaebum scenarios #jaebum imagines #jaebum au #jaebum fluff #jaebum fanfic #jaebum #jaebeom #got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 au #got7 fluff #got7 fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic

[theoreticslut]

The Truth that You Deny // Part 2

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley

word count: 2, 442

warnings: drinking?? nothing much more than that

A/N: here’s part 2!! I’m so glad you guys are liking this so far :) I haven’t written in a while so it makes me so happy to see people still like it a bit. anyways, i still have a few more parts to this so let me know if you’re liking it and if you’d like to be added to a taglist for it.  

taglist - @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai

you can find part 1 here!

The next couple weeks are more than awkward between the three of you and everyone is starting to pick up on it, but none of them dare ask anything in fear it’ll make whatever is going on worse.

Truthfully, the twins were still acting like themselves around everyone - they were laughing and joking and just as vibrant as they had been before - but it was how silent you had become that created the tension amongst everyone. It was like you to be quieter than the rest of your group of friends, but you had never been as disconnected from the group as you have been lately.

Granted, you were stuck inside your own head analyzing your thoughts and emotions towards the twins and trying to figure out if you did like them or not. Deep down you know the answer, but you don’t want to admit it to yourself yet because once you do that unleashes a whole new set of problems.

“Y/n!” Lee nearly shouts, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“What, Lee?!” You snap a bit, not knowing why he’s raised his voice to you.

“Have you heard anything we just said?” He asks, the rest of your friends looking at you.

You stare back at him and then look around the group for any kind of clue yet you find none.

“N-no. I guess not.” You sigh.

“I’m sorry. What were you guys talking about?” You ask, glancing over everyone but settling your attention on Stephanie.

“There’s a party tonight and we wanted to check and see what everyone thought about it.” Fred says as you turn your attention towards him.

“What about it?” You ask, not sure what they’re looking for.

“Like if you wanted to go? If so, when you wanted to go, et cetra”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’d like to go. Who’s throwing it?”

“Ravenclaws.”

“Okay. Uh, yeah. I’ll be there.” You say, giving a small smile to try to give the illusion that you’re totally not lost inside your own head.

He nods and looks back around the group to get everyone’s final opinion.

~.~

“Hey, beautiful. How are you doing?” Steph asks as she walks into your dorm.

“Fine. I’m just trying to get ready for the party. What do you think of that dress on the bed there?”

“The white one?”

“Yeah. Do you think it’ll be too much?”

“I don’t think so. If it is then at least you know you’re the best dressed, yeah?”

“I guess so.” You chuckle as you finish applying your lashes.

“Look, y/n, I don’t know if this is really the cause of why you’ve been acting so disconnected lately....but I’m sorry for pushing you about liking Fred and George. I...It’s none of my business and I should have stayed out of it.” Steph apologizes as she sits down on your bed, wringing her hands together.

“No, you were right. I mean you shouldn’t have pushed it so hard, but I...well, I do like them. I didn’t want to admit it to myself because it just makes everything more difficult, but you were right.” You sigh, walking over to sit next to her.

“I’m still sorry. It was none of my business, but what are you going to do now that you admitted it?”

You sit there for a minute thinking about it before you reply.

“Get plastered tonight and hopefully forget about all of it. You?”

“Maybe not get plastered, but get drunk and just have fun.” She laughs.

~.~

“You ready? Everyone else is already inside.” Steph asks as you both click your way to the ravenclaw house entrance.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You smile as she gives the password to enter.

Once you do, you’re immediately encompassed by the sound of loud music and overlapping chatter broken apart by a few shouts from one person to another across the room. Besides the sheer volume of the room, you’re also hit by the smell of sweaty bodies, much too strong perfumes and cologne that have muddled together into one scent, and various different alcohols.

“Girl! Ugh, You look amazing.” Some 5th year hufflepuff girl compliments as you start to make your way through the room in search of the alcohol.

“Thanks. You too, beautiful!” You smile, admiring her pale yellow velvet bodycon she’s wearing with nude/clear wedges.

“Where can I find the alcohol?” You ask and nod as she points off into the room.

~.~

After a handful of shots taken with a few people hanging around the alcohol table, you find yourself dancing carefree. You honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve just let yourself go and have fun without worrying about the consequences or something else that you should be doing. You’re having an absolute banging time and are thoroughly enjoying yourself for once, which is being noticed by two of your friends across the room.

“Y/n seems to be having a lot of fun tonight.” George points out to his brother as they hang out on the outskirts of a crowd, Fred dancing along with them.

“Yeah, it does. It’s nice to see. It’s not like her to be so down like she has been.” Fred replies.

“I know. I’ve been wondering what’s on her mind. You don’t think we upset her do you?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. We pushed her, but I think whatever it was she’s been thinking about had been on her mind long before that.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right. I’m just glad to see she’s finally getting out of it.” George trails off as Fred nods in agreement, still dancing.

“She looks real nice tonight.” George points out.

“Yeah. She does.” Fred smiles, watching you as you dance with some 4th year ravenclaws and some of their friends both in their year from other houses as well as higher years they’ve met through older ravenclaw friends.

Neither of them could help but look you up and down multiple times throughout the night. You wore a bright white bodycon dress that falls just above the middle of your thighs. That alone is sexy enough, but you had to go even further in getting a dress that had a bit of a slit on the right side that was outlined with a string of crystals that hang over your thigh. Throughout the night, anyone could have found both Fred and George seeming to stare at your thighs, but really they were just in awe with the way the light caught the crystals as you moved. On top of that you wore nude heels that seemed to elongate your already gorgeous legs. Not to mention your makeup. You didn’t wear it often, but in the name of Merlin, you sure knew how to.

As the night progresses, you continue drinking anything and everything you can find that tastes decent enough. As you told Steph, you wanted to forget everything you’ve been thinking about for the last two weeks, and you were almost there.

Way too many drinks ago you found yourself starting to slur, yet you kept on drinking. You’ve started to get wobbly on your feet yet you’ve continued drinking. You’re honestly not sure if you even remember your name or where you are anymore, yet you’re stumbling your way to the alcohol table to get yet another drink.

“Having fun?” You hear someone ask.

You try to turn toward them, but the problem is you’re not quite sure which direction their voice came from.

Eventually you find two...wait four...nope, two red heads behind you.

“Y/n, are you having fun?” The other one asks and you nod even though their words have yet to fully register in your head.

“Y-yeah.” You hiccup. “Lots.”

“What in merlins name? Y/n...are you drunk?” Fred asks, watching as you sway in your spot which he’s positive you aren’t purposely doing.

“Drunk? Not even cl-ose.”

“For merlin’s sake, y/n.” George frowns, catching you as you start to lean too far forward.

“I don’t think we should let her drink anymore, Fred.” George says, taking your cup from you and setting it on the table behind you guys.

“No. No, we shouldn’t. In fact we should probably get her back to her dorm.”

“And how do you plan on doing that without getting caught? I don’t think y/n here is going to be very quiet.” George says as you’re rambling to yourself about one of the songs that just played.

“Uhm, I don’t know? Maybe we could cast muffliato around us?”

“It’s worth a shot.” George says as he picks you up bridal style instead of trying to guide you through the halls.

“Hey! I can walk myself.” You say, awfully slurred, as you try to work your way out of his arms.

He doesn’t budge, counteracting each of your movements and keeping you in his grip. Watching you try to stand still just now proves to him that there is no way to get you back to the gryffindor common room with you walking.

“Hey, you’re strong.” You say in regards to him fighting you and still holding you. “I don’t like it.”

George chuckles and shakes his head at you. You’ve never been drunk around them before, and not surprisingly they find it quite adorable. Sure you guys have had drinks together before, but you’ve never gotten drunk drunk.

“Alright, are you ready to go?” Fred asks having cast the spell.

“As ready as we can be.”

“Okay, well then let’s head out. Here’s hoping the charm works.”

“Your charm works.” You giggle as you wink at him.

He chuckles and shakes his head. Never in a million years did he expect y/n y/l/n to be a flirty drunk.

“Well, I know. Thank you.” Fred smiles, joking around.

“Welcome” you hiccup, following it with a burst of giggles.

“I don’t think drunk y/n knows how to be quiet.” George laughs. it’s such a contrast to your normal personality that he can’t help but laugh.

Normally you were pretty quiet. You knew how to speak up when needed, and were often quick to, but you were quiet the majority of the time. That’s not saying that you were insecure or scared, but that you knew how to listen. It’s impossible to count the amount of times the twins have come to you with one problem or another for you to listen and help them figure out a solution. They adored you for it and that’s part of the reason you three became such close friends. You were a voice of reason to their chaotic energies and in turn they were just the right amount of wild to get you out of your comfort zone.

The twins knew pretty early on into your friendship that you were more to them than just some casual friend. Hence why you’ve been over to the burrow at least twice a year since your second year of school. They loved having you around and when you weren’t, they could feel that something was missing.

They both loved you, even though neither of them were quite aware of that fact.

“We’re almost there.” Fred whispers. George nods, adjusting the way you’ve settled into his arms.

Even though you’re beyond drunk, George can’t help but admire the way you’ve curled into him. You’ve somehow twisted just enough that you’re facing him, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Okay, we’re here.” Fred says.

“Where? Are we at another party?” You ask, really wanting to get another drink.

Fred whispers the password to the portrait so they can get inside and, hopefully, up to her dorm.

“Party?” You ask, frowning as you enter your common room to find complete silence.

“No more parties, unless you wanna have a slumber party. Alright?” Fred tells you as him and George make their way up to your room.

“Is there alcohol?” You ask, stumbling as George finally sets you down inside your room.

“Not anymore. C’mon let’s get you to your bed.” George says, leading you towards your bed.

“But I need another drink. Wanna forget.” You mumble as you fall into your bed.

Both the boys stop, looking at each other confused before looking back at you.

“Forget? What do you wanna forget, love?” Fred asks as he starts taking off your one shoe as George works on the other.

“Thoughts.” You yawn, trying to curl up onto your side but George is still working on getting your shoe off so he keeps you from turning.

“What kind of thoughts?” George asks, finally getting the buckle part undone so he can slide off your shoe.

“Boys I like.” You mumble, finally able to curl up on your side.

Even though you’d deny it if directly asked, you were beyond tired and the twins knew it. If they ever wanted to figure out who you had gone so quiet over, they’d have to keep you talking.

“Can you tell us about them?” Fred asks, looking over at you as you shiver a bit.

It’s honestly no wonder given it’s nearing the middle of winter and you were wearing this. Neither of the twins could say that you didn’t look stunning, but it really wasn’t that hard to believe that you’d be cold. Nonetheless, Fred helps you to get under the covers.

“Hmm?”

“Can you tell us about the guys you like? They’ve got to be mighty special if you go silent over them for a whole two weeks.”

You smile as you think about them, not realizing that they’re the ones with you right now.

“They’re my best friends.” You mumble, smiling dreamily as you’re half asleep.

Fred looks over to George who is looking over at him. Both had the same thought run through their head - us?!

“They’re funny....and brilliant....absolutely adorable....they’re kind.” You continue mumbling as both of the boys watch you, a warmth igniting in their chest. While they couldn’t place exactly what the sensation was, it hadn’t been the first time they’ve felt it when thinking about you.

“Yeah?” George asks, smiling happily at you.

“Yeah,” You hum. “I love when they’re around and just thinking about them makes me happy, but they’re my best friends....and I don’t want to screw anything up between us, but I think I really love them.”

“You do, hmm?” Fred asks, not able to help a smug smirk play on his lips even though this admission overjoys him.

“She’s talking about us, isn’t she Fred?” George asks, smiling at the thought.

“Yeah, George. I believe she is,” he smiles, looking over your sleeping form. “She won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george #fred weasley imagine #george wealsey imagine #Fred and George weasley x reader #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fluff #part 2

[boy-banders-writings]

Clumsy

Group: A.C.E. Member: Seyoonie! also known as Wow (those thighs!!) Genre: Fluffy fluff. I watching Meteor Garden on Netflix so I’m thriving off all the cringy goodness!! Request: Nope, a little drabble Length: Short|medium|long|idk man

(This has been sitting in my drafts for almost a year. I’m on a break from work & really wanted to write some before the year ended. I’ve missed it so much but work had consumed my life this year & Covid has left me raggedy & exhausted! So enjoy this finished WIP!)

Because he takes up so much of your attention, you’ve become pretty clumsy.

Sitting on the side of the tub with Seyoon kneeling before you looking over your handful of scrapes with a thoughtful look on his face was sending you into an embarrassment spiral. 

“It’s a good thing you fell so close to my apartment.” He joked, gingerly poking the bruise forming beside the scrape on your knee.

“Ow!” You hissed, jerking away from him.

“I need to clean your cuts you klutz.” He tugged your leg back towards him.

“I’m not a klutz.” You griped, crossing your arms before the scrape on your elbow stung at the contact causing you to wince and freeze.

“You slipped going up a set of concrete steps, I thought you had broken a bone with how hard you hit the ground.”

“I was distracted.” You grumbled, watching Seyoon gentle dab some antiseptic to a cotton pad and dab at the visible abrasions on your knee, elbow, and hand.

“Oh?” Seyoon paused as he stole a glance at you. “By what?”

“Focus on this please.” You winced when he pressed too hard on your knee.

“Sorry.” He smiled, as he went back to work. “I’ll get to the cut on your cheek in a minute.”

You hadn’t even realized you’d hurt your cheek too, so when your free hand moved to touch your cheek you weren’t surprised when you winced from the sting.

The next few minutes you sat watching Seyoon disinfect, treat, and cover your little wounds. There was large bandage on your knee, which he finished applying with a little kiss over the bandage. It happened so quick you barely noticed and when it processed that he had kissed your knee your face heated up. Seyoon had placed a bandaid much like the one on your knee, with a minor alteration, to your elbow. Much to your surprise with another peck over the bandaid. The bandaids he used on your hand were much smaller and covered the two main scrapes. Instead of the bandaids, Seyoon kissed your palm.

The hummingbird in your chest was making it hard to breathe when you realized just how close Seyoon was. He gathered new supplies before he moved his body to be on he knees directly in front of you. In this position he was eye level with you, he was so close in the moment that you could count his lashes.

His focus was solely on the scratch on your cheek that you’re not really sure how you managed to get. It took him applying some ointment with his ring finger for you realize how gentle he was in that moment. The touches were feather-light. Seyoon seemed to realize just how close he was in that moment because his eyes flickered to you. His movements froze for a moment as he sucked in a quick breath before he finished with a bandaid on your cheek. 

Seyoon sat back and picked up his trash, going to clean up the little mess he had just created.

To say that you were completely and totally distraught when Seyoon didn’t also kiss at least your cheek after the build up would be a lie. You watched him quietly and unmoving from you spot on the side of the tub. Seyoon worked quietly like he always does. He threw away the used cotton pads and the bandaid wrappers. He put away the antiseptic and the antibiotic ointment and placed his first aid kit back into the top cabinet in his bathroom. He was washing his hands when he noticed you staring off into space at the spot where he just was.

Seyoon, who greatly enjoyed riling you up, didn’t dry his cold wet hands but pressed them on either side of your neck to bring you back to the present.

“Ah! Seyoon!” You whined as you pulled the bottom of your shirt up to dry your neck.

He crouched down in front of you with his hands resting on either side of your legs on the bathtub. 

“If you keep getting distracted you’re going to keep getting hurt.”

“So?” You pouted, looking at the obscure and probably abnormal to anyone else group picture of Seyoon and his best friends. “It’s your fault.”

“How is is my fault?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning a bit closer to invade your personal space.

--

“I’m telling you, if Donghun doesn’t quit his shit I’ll end up in jail for murder.” Seyoon rolled his eyes, his friend had been trying his patience all week and thankfully you offered to listen.

“Seyoon, you can’t just kill him. I can’t bail you out.” You laughed, looking up at him to see his eyes crinkled and the cutest grin.

“You’d bail me out?”

“I’d try.” You shrugged, focusing back on the sidewalk. “I can’t let you rot in jail.”

“I appreciate that.” Seyoon tugs you closer and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Mainly because I know the others wouldn’t even notice I was arrested.”

“I always notice when you’re not around.” You meant to sound nonchalant but it came out rushed.

“I know.” Seyoon continues to lead the way towards the noodle shop by his apartment.

Conversation had died down but the silence was comfortable and his arm around your shoulders counteracted the chill from the fall weather. You adored times like these, just being around Seyoon. The two of you were, the best way to explain it, were in a flirtationship. It was more than just friends but neither of you had made a move to be more no matter how much it killed you.

You found yourself looking at him rather than where you were going as he continued on. His attention completely on the sidewalk ahead of him as he recounted his day stuck with Donghun.

“I’m serious though. He is one of my best friends but today I wanted to leave him at the train station. He was being twice as clingy as Jun usually is.”

“Really? That’s pretty hard to do.” You laughed, “Jun is one of the clingiest person we know.” Seyoon grunted in agreement before he dug his head into your neck.

“It was driving me insane. I could not wait to drop him off back at the apartment he shares with Jun.” Seyoon’s breath was warm on your neck and the weight for his arm was heavy on your shoulders as the two of you paused at the stairs that lead up to the street level you Seyoon’s apartment was on.

The heat coming off of your body was enough to fight off the chill of the cool evening as Seyoon ended up wrapping his arms around you. Your mind was consumed with Seyoon’s cologne and the feeling of his hands resting on your lower back. He gave your body one final squeeze before letting go and starting up the stairs. His hand reached out to tug you behind him.

Your body was reeling with tingles from Seyoon’s hands on you when your body lurched forward. Your toes caught on the first step and down you went, Seyoon’s grip on your hand disappeared as you tried to catch yourself.

--

“Ahh,” Seyoon smirked up at you, “did I distract you?”

You just looked at him, your face and neck heating up. Seyoon’s smirk softened into a sweet smile as his hand moved to rest on your cheek. Your heart stopped as he leant forward enough to feel his breath on your lips.

“I’m sorry I distracted you, let me make it up to you.” Your grip on the edge of the tub tightened as Seyoon moved closer and bumped his nose again yours. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whispered as Seyoon closed the gap between the two of you.

It was sweet. And led to many little kisses, enough that you started to giggle from how happy you felt. Seyoon happily rested his other hand on your hip and laughed with you as he backed up just a bit.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

“Me too.” You confessed.

“If you keep getting distracted I’ll have to keep making it up to you.” Seyoon grinned when you blushed again.

“I look forward to it.” You giggled before kissing Seyoon again.

#a.c.e imagines #a.c.e seyoon #kim sehyoon #a.c.e x reader #a.c.e fluff #kpop scenarios #a.c.e scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop a.c.e

[sasuhinasno1fan]

You see the real me

Hey @komorebirei, I’m your @lukadrien-winter gifter! Before we got our assignments, I had been rereading a lot of Sarah Dessen and Meg Cabot books, so this is kinda based on Sarah Dessen’s book Just Listen. If you have read it, don’t worry, I made sure it didn’t have any of your triggers in it. I hope you like it. I based it off one of my favourite scenes from the book. Mentions of ‘the cult’ and Nathan are from Divergance by @depressed-teacup-inc and @sarcasticsparkles (TwiglightMaster15). Hope you enjoy!

Clara Nightingale played from the speakers of Adrien’s computer as he dialled the number for the radio station.

“MIRC Radio.”

“I wasn’t at the mall to see Clara Nightingale; I actually know her,” Adrien defended. He then realised Luka would just use it as an excuse to tease him more.

“That doesn’t exactly clear you of being there,” Luka said. God, he walked right into that one.

“I had a meeting for the fashion show? I’m surprised Rose didn’t tell you.”

“She was more focused on seeing you and getting all that stuff from the swimsuit store. Also, why is Paris’ biggest model doing a fashion show at a mall?”

“You mean, the biggest mall in Paris that holds a total of 30 different stores that sell my father’s clothes? Kinda don’t have a choice.”

“Woo of being a model. Any chance you get to choose what you eat?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “Lunch on Friday was a bag of chips. What do you think?”

“Fair enough. Come get breakfast with me. It’s a tradition after every radio show. Nathan’s paying.”

Adrien thought of the red-haired bundle of energy. “Sure.”

“We’ll be at your house in 20. See you then.”

Adrien hung up and closed the webpage that had the radio’s website on it. Usually, he would sleep in on weekends, unless he had any photoshoots. But like many things that changed after the summer, waking up to listen to the radio was a new thing. All Adrien wanted was to get through school without any issues. Not that a certain person would make that easy. And of course because he made stupid decisions that pushed away any friends he could have had, Adrien was alone. It was like when he started school again.

Then…Luka. After a confrontation he’d rather not relive, Luka came to check on him. Even after seeing him hide in the boy’s room and actually get sick, he was there with tissues and water, asking if he was ok. It had been so strange then. To everyone, Luka was the weirdly silent kid who hung out with a ‘cult’, but would apparently beat up anyone who looked at him wrong. Adrien still remembered when one of the seniors had tried lording over him. Luka dropped his guitar case, punched the guy in the face and then walked off. He should have been terrifying. But like people started to believe the rumors following Adrien about him, he realised he had been the same for Luka. Luka was just a guy so in love with music and had trouble expressing himself without it, so he’d done it with his fists. But Anger Management had helped and now he actually had words and Adrien just couldn’t help but feel stable around him. 

Everything else in his life was going crazy. The rumors, the actual truth behind said rumors, Felix and issues with his mom and Adrien’s father, his loneliness because he couldn’t just talk to the people he’d been friends with for so long, the pressures of still doing modelling, everything. Luka made sense and even with his incredibly odd taste for music and odd sayings pulled from Anger Management classes, Adrien felt happy. Of course the crush that was growing might have also added things. He tried ignoring it, and maybe ignoring Luka, but the idea of losing him wasn’t something he wanted, so he accepted it. Whether or not he’d act on it was the question, but who knew.

The mansion was quiet. His parents were still out of town, Felix was no doubt still asleep and Nathalie never got up before coffee was made. He did find Gorilla in the kitchen doing just that though.

“Hey, I’m going out for breakfast. A friend is picking me up,” he told the towering silent man, who nodded after miming at him to have his phone.

He walked outside, already finding two motorcycles sitting outside the gate. Luka had his spare helmet waiting for him, his own visor pushed up.

“Question, how do you feel about bacon?”

“Bacon?”

“You know, pork product? Smells amazing? Best part of breakfast?”

“I mean, it’s not usually one of my list of things I can eat, but I guess I can deal.”

“Excellent, get on.”

Adrien had gotten very used to Luka’s very fast driving and before he knew it, they were pulling up to a large restaurant. Nathan was bouncing in place waiting for Adrien and Luka to get off the bike before he darted off to the front door. The restraint was modelled after an American diner and it was freezing inside.

“Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot to mention how cold they have it in here,” Luka said, pulling off his jacket, which Adrien tried to wave off. “Trust me. They keep it cold in here so you don’t stay all day.”

He took the jacket, taking in how warm it was. Luka’s scent wafted up, almost covering up the heavy smell of bacon inside the restaurant.

“Why does it smell like a meat store in here?” Adrien asked, sitting next to Luka.

“Well this place has always been the place we get breakfast from after the radio show. Ever since the first one. But they got a competitor not too long ago,” Nathan started to explain.

“With crap pancakes and service.” Luka interrupted.

“Yes. So to counteract it, they made every day double bacon day. Whatever you order, you get a double order of bacon.”

“Which he of course has to pay for.”

Nathan pouted. “You try asking for what I want.”

“I have.” Noticing Adrien’s confused face, he explained. “We’ve got a friend who makes D&D characters and she designs all of ours. Nathan here has a specific look he wants but he thinks it’s too embarrassing to ask for. I told him if he asked, I’d pay for breakfast forever. If he doesn’t, then he will. We’ve had two redesigns in the past year or so and he’s still chickened out.”

Nathan stuck his tongue out like a child. “Leave me alone.”

Adrien shook his head. This was his life now, with a music loving former rebel and an overactive redhead. This he would gladly deal with.

While the others ordered large platters, Adrien played it safe with a waffle and bacon, though Luka let him steal some of his eggs. Funnily enough, if Nathan tried, he’d get a slap on the back of the hand. He tried not to preen at the special attention.

Nathan had to head to work, so it was just the two of them as they drove back towards Agreste Mansion. It was still quiet in the streets and it seemed like there was no movement in the house.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“No problem. If I had known playing pop songs would get your attention, I would have done it sooner.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “No you wouldn’t.”

“Ok no cause I hate that music but still. You said you won’t be at school on Monday, right?”

“Yeah, it’s the only time an outfit fitting could be scheduled. So Tuesday then?”

“Tuesday. I’ll see you later.”

Adrien had already entered through the gates when he realised that he was still wearing Luka’s jacket. He turned to try and give it back, but Luka had already sped off. Adrien started to pull it off anyway as he made his way through the door when he felt something in the coat hit against his leg. Inside one of the pockets was Luka’s iPod. His pride and joy. Adrien couldn’t remember a time when Luka didn’t have it on him. 

That first day of school, when Adrien avoided the lunch room or any of the lunch benches out on the quad, he sat next to Luka against a wall. He had his earphones in, eyes focused on a book. Adrien still didn’t know him then. If he’d been told at that time that Luka Couffaine would become his rock, his best friend, his, well, crush, he would have thought that person was insane. But here he was.

Felix was leaving the dining room when he went inside, looking surprised to see Adrien.

“When did you leave?”

“Early this morning. I got breakfast with a friend.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Same one who delivered that pizza before?”

One of Luka’s jobs was as a delivery person for a local pizza place. When Adrien had tried listening to one of Luka’s many made CDs for him – so he could be educated on the right type of music – and fallen asleep, it led to Felix meeting Luka for the first time. Adrien hadn’t been looking for it but it sounded like Felix approved and that gave him a feeling of happiness.

“Maybe.”

Felix let out a hum before heading to the stairs. He was happy he didn’t say anything more. Adrien wasn’t sure what he’d say anyway.

He collapsed onto his bed, ready to fall asleep again. He couldn’t though, because of a certain item. Luka’s iPod. He was never seen without it. Luka said the silence made him itch, like everything was too much to handle. So the thing that helped him was never far out of reach. It turned on, still a half full battery available. There were many playlists, the names making no sense, but one caught his attention.

ADRIEN

He knew sneaking around on it wasn’t the best idea but…he couldn’t help himself. He pressed the center button and the list of songs that appeared where a mash of a lot of things. Things that looked very familiar. Because they were all the songs he and Luka ever talked about. Luka had a playlist of all the songs they talked about and it was a lot.

He wanted to know if the way he felt was the same. If he was making things up or wishing too hard. He wanted answers. It took all of his energy to not go running after Luka and asking. He fell asleep after several minutes of slowly scrolling through the list of songs Luka had under his name.

                                                 _______________

Adrien climbed out of the car, watching as Gorilla pulled out his phone. He meant to leave the house earlier. He distracted himself with homework before he went to ask Gorilla to take him to Luka’s house, when he was interrupted by a mighty crash from the kitchen. Felix was attempting to cook. Adrien stayed back to help and eat with him before he left.

He crossed the gangplank onto the deck of the house boat. The deck was empty, though there seemed to be music playing in the area above. He didn’t remember the whole look of it from the last time he was here, but he was sure that was a sitting area. He knocked on the door below the deck, which swung open. Rose, Luka’s sister’s girlfriend, let out a shriek when she saw who was standing on the other side.

“Adrien! What are you doing here?”

“Is that Adrien Agreste?” A girl with dreadlocks, some strands of different colours, looked at him in awe. There was another girl with red hair and glasses and another with a baseball cap and Juleka. They were all staring at him.

“Adrien is my friend! Oh, come in!” He was yanked inside where music seemed to be echoing on the walls and the living room was a mess. “We’re having a fashion show sleepover. You have to stay and help us with our looks.”

“Oh, well, you see.”

“Rose, are you ready yet? I have…” Luka walked in with a DSLR camera around his neck. “A show to plan? Adrien, what are you doing here?”

“He’s here to help us with our looks.” Rose said, pulling Adrien further into the house. He sent a pleading look to Luka who shrugged. He had a feeling that telling Rose ‘no’ was a hard thing. He was dragged to Juleka’s room, though Luka’s was separated with a curtain that was currently pushed back. Juleka’s taste in decorating was darker than her brother’s, but a lot of things seemed to be similar, such as the guitar and bass sitting in their stands and the posters of Jagged Stone. Some pictures didn’t really fit Juleka’s theme. Pictures of models, both male and female.

“Look, these are you.” Pictures from his father’s brand, from cologne ads, from sporting wear, even from that department store ad, with the tux for the dance, the perfect outfit and hair after fencing, the perfect outfit to study in the library. “I loved that ad so much and its story. You were so cool. You were like…”

“The guy who had everything.”

“Exactly!”

“Rose, come on. I have a show to plan. Are we going to do this or not?” Luka said, finally pulling her attention away.

“Alright, alright. Who has the order lists?” 

The girls started to leave the area, but not before the one in the baseball cap turned and quickly slapped the back of Luka’s butt, causing them all to burst into laughter as he let out a startled yelp. They quickly disappeared when he turned to glare at them. Adrien couldn’t help but stifle his laughter. It had been a high pitch squeak.

“Not a word out of you,” Luka ordered upon seeing him laugh.

“Course not. Here, I wanted to give this back to you,” he said, handing over the jacket.

“Oh, I could have waited until Tuesday to get this.”

“I know. I’m just sure you couldn’t wait for this.” He pulled out Luka’s iPod from one of the pockets, watching his face light up.

“Oh I would so miss this! Thank you.”

“I had a feeling you’d flip all of Paris to try and find it.”

“Very true. So what commercial was Rose talking about?”

Adrien pointed to the pictures from the different scenes of the ad. “It was from the department store for their back to school campaign. I’m the guy who has everything. Don’t feel like it though.”

“Doesn’t really look like you.”

Adrien looked over at him feeling a little insulted. “You don’t have to like it.”

“No, I mean, I’m looking at it and I see this picture-perfect person and think, ‘that’s not my Adrien’. It just doesn’t look like the real you.”

Before Adrien could ask him who the real Adrien was, Rose called from what sounded like above deck. Luka looked pained as he turned, heading towards the stairs.

“This is gonna end in tears. Just you watch.”

It took a while but it turned out Luka was right. Adrien had been in his corner of the sitting area on the deck above surrounded by mountains of makeup when one of the girls, Mylène, burst into tears.

“I don’t want to do this outfit anymore! I’m always in this one.” It was a beachy outfit; which Adrien guessed her dreads played a part in. Everyone else had changed a good number of times, but Mylène always seemed to be in different versions of the same outfit.

He quickly swooped in and took Mylène downstairs. She directed him to the clothes she brought over and it took a bit of prodding to find an outfit. He sent her off to the bathroom while he rooted through the pile of shoes to find a pair that would fit her. He looked up to see Luka leaning against the post that acted as the centre between his and Juleka’s rooms.

“You’re good at this,” he said, smiling down at Adrien.

“Modelling does lead to tears. Just find something to distract them and give them lots of chocolate after. Works every time.” Adrien finally found the shoes he wanted and stood up to see Luka pointing the camera at him. Covering his face with his hand, he said, “No. I don’t like having my picture taken.”

“But you’re one of Paris’ biggest models.”

“I know. Trust me, getting cameras shoved in your face is not as glamorous as it seems.”

“Oh, come on. Let me at least show you what I see.”

Remembering what Luka had said earlier about the ad pictures not looking like ‘his Adrien’, he brought his hand down and relaxed his body. He felt the smallest smile come to his face as Luka brought the camera back up and clicked the shutter. He walked over, leaning close to Luka as he brought the picture up. The lighting wasn’t the greatest and in the mess of helping Rose, his hair and clothes were a bit messy, but…he understood what Luka was saying.

“This is the real you,” Luka said, his words just brushing Adrien’s cheek, that’s how close they were. “This is my Adrien.”

My Adrien. It wasn’t weirdly possessive. It was comforting and with every insane thing that was happening in his life, to be picked by someone just for being himself, that made his heart happy. 

Maybe that’s why when he looked up and saw Luka staring at him, eyes moving down to his lips, he kissed him. He felt Luka kiss back. Adrien wanted to grab hold of him because the kiss made him feel weak in the knees, it felt that good, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

“How do I look?”

The two sprang apart, Luka hitting his head on the post. Mylène looked worried and a bit confused, but thankfully it looked like she hadn’t seen.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

“Luka! We’re ready for group shots!” Rose called from above deck.

“He’s all good. Here, put them on quickly,” Adrien said, handing her the shoes and pushing her towards the stairs. He could tell she was confused, but thankfully she didn’t ask.

They didn’t get a chance to be alone until the photoshoot was done and Luka had gotten the call that his mom would be home soon and the house was a mess. Luka walked Adrien to the gangplank, still waving off his offers to help clean up.

“Don’t worry about it. The girls will take care of most of it. Thanks again for bringing my iPod.”

“Of course.” Adrien hesitated, wanting to ask if the kiss was a fluke or if it was real when he realised Luka was moving closer to him, gently pulling his fidgeting fingers apart and linking them with his own.

“This ok?”

“Yeah. Perfect.”

Luka was leaning down and Adrien started to go up on his toes when they heard Rose. She came bounding over with pictures in her hand. The one that Luka took of him was on top.

“Here, so you can decorate your wall.”

When she finally went back below deck, Adrien gave Luka the picture he took of him. “That way you always remember what I look like. I might be coming to school in a few makeup looks next week.”

“Bet you’ll still look amazing as usual. I’m very tempted to test my luck a third time, but I can wait. Would you be ok if I came and picked you up on Tuesday?”

Adrien nodded, taking everything in him not to pull Luka in for a kiss, no matter who was watching.

“Awesome. I’ll see you then.”

Adrien had to bite down his smile when he eventually pulled himself away and got into the car. Kissing his rock should make him afraid of messing things up, but how could he when everything felt so right? And if Luka came to get him for school on Tuesday morning and Adrien noticed that his lanyard that had his student ID on it also had the picture of Adrien, well. How was he supposed to argue with that?

#Lukadrienwinterexchange #lukadrien #just listen au

[decayandfanfics]

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut later.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

__________________________________________________________

Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

An intelligent enemy rather than a stupid friend.

True to his word, Jin treats you like a friend. He makes his best to make you feel a little more comfortable, knowing that you are probably scared to death. So, he engages with you, tries to help you with the cleaning and laundry. So does Compress, ever a gentleman he makes himself useful by being chivalrous. Of course, this doesn’t make you forget your own precarious position, but at least you use it in your favor and suddenly you are delighted at the sight him washing dishes.

After three days of their invasion, you find yourself folding some clothes when he asks you.

“board games?”

“yes” Compress smiles at you “since Shigaraki and Spinner have appropriated your tv and laptop, I thought it would be fun to play something, don’t you agree?”

“well…I’m afraid I only got a chess board.”

“It’s fine, dear. Will you play with me? I’m a little rusty, but I’m sure it would be fun.”

You look for the board, stored in some dark dusty corner of one of your closets as Compress prepares the little kitchen table for your game.

Seven matches later, you sight already getting bored of your constant wining. To be honest, Compress isn’t that bad, but there is no point in comparing you two when you spend playing your first two years in college.

Toga and Twice had gathered around the table to cheer, without really understanding what was happening, and not long after that Dabi and Magne were watching too.

“That was pretty impressive, dear!”

“you aren’t bad either, but I was in the chess club in college a few years ago. I learned a lot in there.” You say moving your eyebrows in funny gesture.

Compress stands giving you a bow and before you begin to gather the pieces to store it again, Shigaraki sits in front of you, putting each black piece in its place.

“Tomura -kun is going to play! You think he can beat her?” Toga whispers to Compress, before Magne answers from behind “Shigaraki is very good at this kind of games, my bet is on him.”

Shigaraki gives you a defiant glare, and you gather again your own pieces. Once you are ready, his ungloved hand points your turn to open the game.

He seems sure of this, a cocky smirk twitching his dry lips up, so you decide you will play seriously this time.

You open by moving your queen’s pawn, and he follows your movement just as you expected. Your king’s knight moves to protect your pawn, and again he reflects. The moment your bishop moves, you have control of the board.

You smile and his smirk turns into a feral grin stretching across his face.

“Smart girl…” he states amused before moving, and then, the game is his. “but you better try harder.”

You wrinkle, the tip of your teeth showing briefly before such challenge.

“Then, better not to disappoint.” Your answer sounds as playful as his defiant statement.

Forty minutes into it and you are completely invested in the game.

The back and forth is tight. For every strategy, he just counteracts your wits with something better and more difficult than the last. At the same time, every time he thinks he already got you, you manage to scape his control and get ahead again.

Its…weirdly exciting, to say the least.

Shigaraki’s eyes burn through your own, trying to read your expression in an attempt to predict your next movement and for a brief second you think about their color and the way his mouth twist upward whenever he fails to trap you.

He’s every bit the strategist you would expect from a ruthless leather, and you wonder how the media managed to paint him to be so childish and immature before, when you see nothing but a skilled hunter.

You feel surprised. Having never really thought about his clever ways or how he just seems to organize the league like a perfectly calibrated weapon, but seeing him now, you can trace every time, every word and every motion that gave away his intricate thinking pattern.

Surely, he’s bat shit crazy with the hero drama and such, but surely that’s not intelligence exclusive.

Your hand travels to your chin, a finger gently taping over your lower lip as you think your next move in one of your classic hard thinking gestures.

With your eyes fixed in the game, you don’t see the dragging look he gives to your lips.

You blink concentrated in trying to disarm his attack, unaware of his brief thoughts. Unaware of the fluttering motion of the eyelashes that crown your clever eyes, fanning softly over the smooth skin of your cheeks.

Just a mere second of self-indulgence and an intrusive flashing idea creeps out of nowhere between his destructive thoughts like a whisper of something unfathomable to him.

She’s very pretty. He thinks as he absorbs every angle of your face, trying to imprint in his brain the way light reflects over your cheekbones and between your lashes.  

You move you tower, and his attention draws back to the game, knowing he already won.

You watch it in slow motion, slapping yourself for not seeing it coming. His slender fingers taking his bishop, striking down your tower and compromising your king. That’s it, you lost, but the moment gets buried under the sudden butterflies in your belly when he arches his brow smugly and smiles softly as the “jaque-mate” leaves his lips, and in a brief defining second the thought takes form in your brain, gluing itself to your skull.

He’s quite handsome when he smiles like that.

Half feral, half childish, and every bit a smart ass.

Yeah. He looks handsome like this. Comfortable in his own skin…youthful.

Confident.  

He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed in yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.

A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing your name the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.

A clever pretty girl.

“Again?” he offers quietly, lowering his gaze because something in him just cannot stand your sweet defiance in a way he never thought possible.

Out of nowhere, he feels…

Embarrassed?

What the fuck.

Of what? He doesn’t know, but he knows he feels his blood creeping neck up and warming his face and he hates you for it, yet he can’t help the need to keep playing with you, just to feel there is something in you that relates to him.

The rest of the league cheers, about it. Magne, Compress and Dabi (surprisingly) engage in the game making bets and pointing moves.

Two games after and he has won two to one (yet in his mind it feels more like a draw after hours of relentless back and forth) when you finally call it for the night before standing, ready to just go to bed.

You give them all the good nights, your eyes lingering on his briefly, like trying to convince yourself that something weird just transpired between the two, just to disappoint yourself when he denies you the pleasure of his attention, seemingly distracted with the little tower between his fingers.

You brush it off like maybe it's only your imagination, maybe that's his way to get competitive and you saw something out of sheer loneliness and stress. You even tell yourself a joke about Stockholm syndrome, completely unaware of how later that night a lanky shadow slither through your bedroom door and watches your sleeping form, just to confirm again that you were, in fact, very pretty.

Chapter 6

[fromkaermorhentolettenhove]

All That Glitters

Summary: Geralt needed food, that was all. 

He didn’t expect to end up with something else on his hands.

Rating: T

Genre: Canon Compliant, Different First Meeting, Non-Human Jaskier, Hunting, Injury&Recover (Not Graphic)

Words: 2576

-

AO3

or

It had been four days since Geralt wandered into the forest.

There was a tug that drew him in, one he knew he shouldn’t trust but did so anyway. He ignored Roach’s protests, forgoed his usual path, all for what could just be a whim. Now, he was sure he was in the deepest of it, trees looming above, the sunlight still plentiful but fighting to get past the branches. 

With his destination unknown, supplies dwindled and Geralt was left with little choice for his next meal. Roach could graze on foliage all she liked, but Geralt needed more than that. There was nothing that smelled of danger, so camp was set up and by the next day, Geralt readied himself for hunting.

Geralt made his way through the forest, armed with his bow and arrow, his senses searching. Squirrels and rabbits ran by, but Geralt knew there was bigger prey afoot and he continued on. 

When Geralt spotted a flash of color, he ducked behind a tree and peeked around the trunk, almost not believing his luck. There, mindlessly searching the ground, was a golden deer. Its antlers stood proud, extending far out from its head, many pointed ends that showed its triumph in the forest. There could be no finer animal, and no finer meal in Geralt’s mind.

Taking a deep breath, Geralt lifted his bow and arrow, eyes locked on the deer. He pulled the string back, pausing for just a moment to make sure the deer was still grazing. When all went quiet, Geralt let the arrow go, his aim hitting true. 

The deer let out a strangled noise as the arrow struck its hindquarter and it fell into the bushes, a few birds scattering from the trees. Geralt was slow to stalk the deer, knowing that in a few moments, he’d have his chance to finish it off. However, as he got closer, Geralt knew something wasn’t right. His skin prickled as a heavy scent overwhelmed him, magic and old spirits rolled into one. Ducking his head, Geralt cursed himself before he shoved through the foliage, his breath catching in his throat at the sight before him.

On the ground lay a man, unclothed and an arrow lodged in his thigh. His pale skin was a stark contrast to the brown mop of hair on his head and his eyes, wet with tears, shone a brilliant blue. He shrank at the sight of Geralt, trying to crawl away, but his pain slowed him down. 

“I’m not going to hurt you again,” Geralt attempted to reassure him. 

The wound was becoming more agitated as the man tried to escape from Geralt, blood trailing down his leg. Fear emanated off the man in waves, almost making Geralt sick to his stomach. He had done this and he wasn’t sure he could make it right.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what you were. I thought your kind was long gone.” Geralt’s words spilled out, his hand reaching towards the man. 

This made the man stop and he glared at Geralt through tear-filled eyes. “Doesn’t mean you should go killing every animal you see just because you’re hungry.”

Geralt sighed. “I know.” 

“Is that all you have to say?” the man bit back. 

“Let me help you. Please.”

The man hesitated, furiously wiping his tears away as he judged Geralt. “Alright. I suppose if you wanted me dead you would have already done it.”

Geralt pursed his lips and knelt down by the man, careful with his actions. The man was easily startled, his body flinching at Geralt’s every move. When Geralt was finally able to lay his hands on the man, it was then he noticed how red his face was. 

“Breathe,” Geralt reminded, his hand pressing close to the wound. 

The man let out a low hiss, his fingers digging into the dirt as Geralt took hold of the arrow. In one swift movement, he yanked the arrow out and pressed his hand on top of the wound to counteract the bleeding. The man let out a choked sob, every inch of him shaking as he tried to pull away from Geralt. 

“You need to lay still,” Geralt murmured. 

He unhooked his cloak and pressed the fabric to the wound, using his free hand to pull out his dagger. The man visibly shivered at this, his eyes widening. 

“I’m just making a bandage for you,” Geralt explained as he braced one knee on the other end of the cloak and attempted to cut through the fabric. 

It was a rough cut, but Geralt managed to have enough fabric to tie it around the man’s leg, a tourniquet that would hold for now. Exhausted, the man lay back on the ground, his gaze up at the sky. Geralt could only watch, his words no longer having merit. 

“Do you know what I am?” the man asked. 

“I think so,” Geralt began. “A forest spirit, and an ancient one too, if I’m not mistaken.”

The man nodded, a cynical smile forming on his face. “It’s sad that we’ve had to hide so deeply, so secretly, that in turn we’ve been forgotten.”

“Self-preservation is important,” Geralt replied, finding a familiarity in the man’s words. 

To survive took priority, no matter the cost. In time, Geralt was sure witchers would become nothing more than rumors and perhaps he would find himself in this man’s place. 

“Take me to your camp,” the man cut through Geralt’s thoughts. “Let me rest there for the night and I shall be on my way in the morning.”

Geralt mulled this over, a part of him having hoped that this would be suggested. He didn’t want the man reopening the wound and Geralt consented with a nod. The man sat up then, wincing at the pain as Geralt gave him the remains of his cloak to cover himself with.

“I’ll carry you,” Geralt placed a hand on the man’s leg, waiting for his approval. 

He blinked at this before he gave Geralt a small smile and reached out to him. Tucking one arm under the man’s knees, Geralt’s other found its place wrapped around his back and he lifted him up easily, the man scrambling to wrap his arms around Geralt’s neck. 

“That was a ride,” the man commented, looking back towards where he had been laying. He smiled at Geralt, unfaltering even when he didn’t get one in return. “You can call me Jaskier.”

“Is your actual name that hard to pronounce?” Geralt asked as he began walking back to his camp. 

Jaskier smiled at this. “Are you well-versed in the old languages?”

“Not as well as I should be.”

“You’re honest, Witcher. A good trait.” There was a slight teasing in Jaskier’s voice and Geralt raised an eyebrow. 

For just being shot, Jaskier was in high spirits and towards Geralt too. It was suspicious at the very least, but Geralt was in no mood to make Jaskier upset all over again.

“Are all forest spirits like you?” Geralt asked, hoping to get more information out of Jaskier.

“No, most find me abhorrent,” Jaskier grinned. 

Geralt certainly had no doubts about that with his sudden amicable attitude. It was as if he was someone else entirely and that wasn’t a comforting thought.

“You’ve proven yourself to me. I can tell you’re a good man underneath your rough exterior,” Jaskier answered as if reading Geralt’s mind.

This rattled Geralt a little, but he did his best to hide it. If only Jaskier knew. Then again, if Jaskier was as old as Geralt was guessing, he’d probably seen the end of the world and then some.

It was a relief when they finally reached camp so Geralt could set Jaskier down and busy himself amongst the idle chatter. Jaskier didn’t stop for a second, recounting what he had been up to before Geralt popped up out of nowhere. 

“Now, do you have any questions for me, dear Witcher?”

Geralt ignored the term of endearment, choosing instead to exchange a look with Roach. Her ears flicked, nostrils flaring, and Geralt agreed with her. Even if it was just for one night, Jaskier was going to be a handful. 

“All right,” Jaskier filled in the silence. “I’ll just tell you about myself.”

Daring to look back at Jaskier, Geralt was immediately at a loss. Jaskier had laid himself near the remains of Geralt’s fire from the night before, stretching out as if he were on a bed of furs. A hand hovered over the ashes, a few clumps floating in the air as Jaskier twisted his fingers about. 

“Oh, don’t act so surprised. There’s still forest in these ashes.”

That hadn’t even been a concern for Geralt. With Jaskier laying directly on his wound, he wanted to tell the man to flip back over just so he could make sure it was healing properly. 

“And don’t worry about my wound either. My body is already taking care of it.”

“Do you read minds now?” Geralt muttered. 

Jaskier laughed, the sound filling the forest around them. “Not quite. Your stern looks say more than you think.” 

This made Geralt pause, his eyebrows furrowing as Jaskier laughed again. 

“There it is.” 

With a grunt, Geralt dug through his supplies, a bit disconcerted with how much meat his diet consisted of. Taking the last of the jerky for himself, he managed to find a few scraps of bread, which he then offered to Jaskier along with some water. 

“Sorry I don’t have anything better,” Geralt muttered, making sure Jaskier was able to sit up as he started eating.

“You need your energy,” Jaskier shrugged. “As much as hunting disgusts me, I know a witcher doesn’t have many options.”

“I’ll be sure to not hunt in your forest again. I’ll let others know as well.”

Jaskier smiled, bittersweetness hanging off the edges. “That’s very kind. I wish everyone could be like you.”

“You wouldn’t want that.” Geralt was tempted to laugh, but years of pain struck first and he could only frown. “Then the world would be filled with nothing but monsters.”

“Is that what you see yourself as?” Jaskier frowned. “I mean, yes, you shot me, but once you knew what I was, you helped me. Would a monster do that?”

Geralt wasn’t convinced, but he was too tired to argue with Jaskier. A part of him couldn’t help get caught up in the sincere words, the comfort Jaskier was giving him. He could feel Jaskier’s eyes on him and he shifted under the continuous staring. 

“I never caught your name by the way.”

“And you never shall,” Geralt smiled a little. “Not sure I can allow myself to be trapped in the spirit world forever.”

This got a laugh out of Jaskier and he perched his head on one hand. “Surely there must be some name I can call you besides ‘Witcher’.”

“You may call me Geralt then.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeated and Geralt was sure his name never sounded more lovely than when it left the other man’s lips. “You’re wiser than most men. Not letting me have any fun at all.”

“Really? I’m not?” Geralt smirked.

“Oh, you’re a right tease, you are.” There was a pause before Jaskier glanced down at his hands. “I’m glad we met, Geralt. Even if it wasn’t ideal, it’s been much too long since I’ve had a proper conversation with anyone.”

If Jaskier’s idea of conversation was this, Geralt feared he may have set a bad example. However, he wasn’t allowed to dwell on this as Jaskier began chatting about something else. 

How bright his soul shined, an almost child-like excitement glowing in his eyes. Jaskier had lived decades more than Geralt and yet it seemed the world hadn’t tarnished him. Geralt could only watch, manage small replies, as he became tangled up in this strange, beautiful man. 

If only they weren’t to part come morning. 

With hours of night still ahead, Geralt settled into the approaching dusk all while Jaskier talked about nothing and everything.

~

Geralt woke to humming.

Bolting upright, Geralt searched the clearing only to find Jaskier brushing Roach down, dressed in Geralt’s extra clothing. However, all Geralt could register was the fact that Roach was letting a complete stranger take care of her and a magical being at that. Her ears flickered towards Geralt and Jaskier was quick to turn around, greeting Geralt with a bright smile. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” Jaskier began, going back to brushing Roach. “I’m going to travel with you.”

“Why?” Geralt butted in, his mind already fussing over the consequences. 

“I like you,” Jaskier smiled. “And a new adventure might be nice.”

Geralt huffed, tilting his head forward in momentary frustration. “It’s dangerous. I can’t protect you at every turn.”

“I’m not expecting you to,” Jaskier waved. “I am a forest spirit after all. I can take care of myself. Look, my wound is already healed.”

That wasn’t the point, but Geralt had a feeling that whatever he said would be brushed to the side. 

“At least take me as far as the coast. Then you can see how you feel about me then.”

“Hm, quite the challenge you propose,” Geralt mulled over Jaskier’s words.

“Of course,” Jaskier teased. “What’s life without one or two?”

Geralt’s heart thumped in his chest and he found himself drowning in Jaskier’s piercing gaze. His decision had been made the moment he shot Jaskier with his arrow. Grumbling, Geralt got to his feet to clean up the camp only to find that everything had been taken care of besides his own bedroll. 

“The sooner we’re off the better, right?” Jaskier grinned, taking the half folded bedroll from Geralt’s hands. 

Their hands brushed and Geralt tried to ignore the shiver that ran up his spine. Geralt trailed after Jaskier, letting the man mess around with the buckles on his armor. It had been a while since someone was so quick to help him and Geralt could only follow as Jaskier commanded. Everything felt lighter, the armor, the day–even Roach had a new energy to her. 

Geralt figured in time he would learn just how strong Jaskier’s magic was. For now, he’d have to figure out this forest spirit amongst his scattered thoughts, his unending optimism. Surprising himself, Geralt found he did not mind.

The rest of the morning found Jaskier summoning a lute from nowhere, playing old tunes, creating nonsense songs amongst their conversation as they traveled.  He had a knack for a great many things and Geralt tucked them all away to remember for later. By mid-afternoon, it seemed Jaskier grew tired of his human form and handed Geralt back his clothes before transforming. He drew himself up proudly on his hooves, his antlers glistening in the light as he let Roach inspect him. With a huff, Roach kept on walking and Geralt gave her a reassuring pat, knowing she’d come around in time. 

As for himself, Geralt knew his stubbornness would not hold out. Jaskier was wiggling into every inch of his life and whether it was loneliness or something else, Geralt was more than happy to let him do so. 

He let himself admire Jaskier as they carried on down the road, an adventure laying itself ahead of them. For anyone passing by, it surely was a sight to see, a witcher on his steed while a golden deer trotted alongside them. 

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #indigo's side shitposting #listen i am WEAK for any kind of 'oops didn't mean to shoot u' aus

[copper-wasp]

Even a Devil May Drabble: Vergil x Reader - Tender Heart (Part 20/?)

This is for @shiranyaaww, who won my 400 tumblr followers giveaway! The request was for Vergil x Healer Reader, with some pining and whump. I hope you like it!!

Rating: T

Warning Tags: None, just some smooching and feels

Words: 2,043

Tagging: @xalmasyx @exsultry @drusoona @synchronmurmurs @harlot-of-oblivion @amicitiayes

Your eyes widened when you saw him fall. The Yamato was loose in his grip, practically a stick in his hand as his back collided with the ground. You wanted to run to him, but there were still demons everywhere, not to mention the scolding you’d have gotten from Vergil himself.

“Dante!” you called out, pointing to Vergil’s prone form when you met his eye. With a wicked smile, Dante dispatched the creature who had harmed his twin with a flourish, an unnecessary pirouette as he separated the hell spawn’s head from its shoulders.

With just a few more minor demons left, Dante charged at them, giving you the opening you needed to dart out from your hiding spot, rushing over to his side as quickly as you could while dodging the demon guts that littered the street.

The slash on Vergil’s abdomen was deep - dark red blood oozing out from three identical claw marks.

“Why isn’t it healing?” you mumbled, rhetorical and to yourself, when the smell hit you. Sweet and tart and acidic. Poison. It must be counteracting Vergil’s demonic healing, keeping the wound open.

You looked up at his face, a mixture of pain and annoyance on his features. “Don’t look at me like that,” you sassed, trying to peel the ruined fabric of his shirt away from the wound.

“You should still be hiding,” he said through gritted teeth. “There are still enemies around.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” you said, rubbing your hands together to generate warmth before hovering them over the wounds. “But you’re bleeding out, Vergil, and I thought your chivalry might take a backseat this time.”

“You’re in danger.”

“So are you.” This wasn’t the time to argue, but you knew Vergil wouldn’t consent to your healing unless he made it known that he didn’t approve. The man was incorrigible that way - always treating you like a baby bird too scared to jump out of the nest. Most of the time you hated it, hated that he thought you were so fragile, but some times, only a couple times at most, you appreciated the care he took with you. You knew it was just a sort of professional courtesy, but there were parts of you that hoped that his incessant care for, and an almost blatant need to, protect you might mean more. You’d been drawn to Vergil from the moment you’d met, a longing burning in your chest for the man who always seemed to hold you at arm’s length, would look away if your eyes met, would jump if you accidentally brushed his arm like a frightened cat; so you tried to keep the same professional courtesy... most of the time.

You looked in his eyes, daring him to challenge you again, before he nodded near imperceptibly. You let your own eyes close, focusing on pushing energy into the gashes, your body the conduit for the healing energy. You heard Vergil groan and hoped the sound was due to the relief you were giving him. You could hear the tissue knitting back together, feel the decrease of Vergil’s heart rate as the blood started flowing where it was supposed to, envisioned the poison leech out from the wound.

You vaguely heard Dante’s footsteps as he jogged back over to where the two of you were, the scent of demon viscera strong where it clung to his clothes.

“That should be all of ‘em,” Dante said with a sigh, “and I closed the portal, so we should be okay at least for tonight.”

“Thank you, Dante,” you replied, eyes opening as you finished pushing the last bit of healing energy into his twin’s body. Vergil was trying to look as if he was pain-free, but the twitch in his jaw told you otherwise. “I did the best I could, but there’s probably still some venom I couldn’t get out, so you might be weak for awhile yet.”

Vergil tsked, but offered you a silent thanks anyway, another slight nod of acknowledgement.

You tried to stand, but wobbled when you got to your feet, lightheadedness overwhelming you.

“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” Dante asked, and you assumed it was his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

You nodded, immediately clutching at your head at the motion. “Y-yeah... yeah, I’m okay. Just didn’t realize how much energy I used up,” you managed to get out, teeth clenching as you willed the world to stop spinning.

You felt yourself be pulled against a firm surface, and you cracked an eye to see that Vergil had removed you from Dante’s grip, holding you gently against his chest.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly, enough for only you to hear.

“What, helped you?”

“Used that much energy. I don’t want you putting yourself in danger for me,” he explained, and if you could’ve rolled your eyes, you would’ve.

“That is literally my job, Vergil. And I’m going to keep helping you when you need me to, whether you want it or not.” Your reply was much more snarky and loud than you intended it to be, and you heard Dante chuckle.

“Come on, you two can bicker back at the office,” he said, slinging his bloody sword over his shoulders.

-:- -:- -:-

Vergil made a beeline for the leather sofa when the group of you returned to the shop, sitting down far less gracefully than he usually did. You felt that pang in your chest again when you looked at him - guilt for maybe not doing as much as you should, though Dante had nearly had to carry you back the last couple blocks due to your own exhaustion. But who were you kidding? It wasn’t professional courtesy that had your heard beating out of your chest with worry; it was affection, simply that.

You sat down next to him, trying to move his jacket out of the way to look at his wound. The skin was healed, just a little redness remaining from the demon’s attack. But Vergil still needed rest to purge the poison from his veins. You debated whether or not to try to urge him to bed, but when he relaxed into the worn leather, his eyes closing as sleep overcame him, you decided to let him stay there and keep him company.

You fought the urge to sleep yourself, Dante bringing you something to eat a few minutes later. He waved off your thanks, giving you a winning smile before proclaiming that he was going to wash off all the demon guts in the shower. After rolling your eyes at Dante’s suggestion that you join him, you turned them instead to his twin, watching the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

Without thinking, you placed your hand over the remnant of his wound, just trying to trickle a little more energy into it; Vergil was important, he needed to be fully healed as soon as possible.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he mumbled, cracking an eye to look at you, but your hand stayed firm on his abdomen.

“I don’t like seeing you in pain,” you replied, refusing to look at him, but still seeing his stern look in your peripheral.

“And you think I like seeing you in pain? Exhausted from pushing yourself too hard for me? Wasting your strength for my sake?” Vergil said, concern in his words.

“It’s not a waste. Not if you’re healed,” you said, and Vergil grabbed your wrist, his strength seemingly fully returned.

“Stop,” he said in a dangerous tone, and you finally met his eyes. His face was surprisingly soft, eyes deep and icy blue and you couldn’t stop your next words from flowing out.

“Why won’t you let me care for you, Vergil? Why? Do you hate that I love you that much? Is that it? Because I can’t help that I-”

He stopped your words with his lips, pressed against yours with warmth and desperation. Vergil shifted into the couch, his hands moving to cradle your body to his, not breaking apart from you. You wanted to take a breath, but the tingle of his mouth on yours kept you there, the subtle movement of his too-soft lips a drug you wanted to become addicted to.

You didn’t know if it was the exhaustion, or just that it was him, but your kiss seemed to go on forever, and you still felt him there on your lips when he pulled away.

Your hands moved to cup his face, Vergil giving you a slow blink as he leaned into your touch. You kissed him softly again, having to part as a tired giggle escaped.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, urging you to swing your legs up onto his lap.

“You, you idiot!” you replied, and Vergil’s hands paused where they were caressing your back.

“Pardon?”

You chuckled, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. “I just can’t believe that you feel the same as I do,” you said, muffled against the fabric of his coat. “It’s funny because we probably could’ve done this a lot sooner.”

Vergil cleared his throat and you moved to look at him again. “It... took me awhile to come to terms with my feelings for you,” he said, as straightforward as usual. “I didn’t want to become involved with you due to my past... transgressions. I didn’t want to put you in any more danger, as I still have a lot of enemies in both worlds, that might want to use you.”

“But I can-“

“I know you can take care of yourself, you’re incredibly stubborn,” he interrupted, but you knew he was saying it as a compliment. “But I still struggled with knowingly putting you into unnecessary danger.”

You wanted to kiss him again, but he kept speaking, the flutter in your chest growing stronger.

“You saying that cut the last string holding me back.” He brushed the back of his hand over your forehead and down your cheek until he tilted your chin up. He ran the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip before dipping down to kiss you once more.

You were more ready for this one, scooting as close as you could on his lap, Vergil’s hand trailing lower down your back. You gently pressed your tongue to the seam of his lips, Vergil expectantly parting them to meet you. You kissed him for another millennia, your tongues lightly touching and intertwining before he pulled away to press gentle kisses to your cheeks.

“You need rest,” he said, and for once you didn’t disagree with him. Nodding, you felt him kiss your forehead, before one arm slipped beneath your knees, the other staying on your back as he lifted you up.

“Come on, I’m not that helpless,” you whined, kicking your legs a little to try to get him to put you down.

“Let me care for you,” Vergil said softly, sending your earlier words back to you. You opened your mouth to retort but quickly closed it, choosing to rag doll in his arms instead, resting your heavy head against his shoulder.

-:- -:- -:-

Vergil laid you down on your bed, helping to remove your shoes and coat before tucking you in. You only managed to get a little demon blood on you, so you weren’t too worried about contaminating the sheets. He turned to leave, and seemed to have a great mental battle with himself when you asked him sleepily to stay.

You were glad he decided in the affirmative, the heat from his warm body threatening to have you fall asleep in record time.

“You’re... all right with this?” Vergil asked, tentatively wrapping his arms around you where you were snuggled against his side. You nodded with a sleepy, pleased noise and he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. He kissed the top of your head and you cuddled up as close as you could, hooking your hand around his waist.

You swore you heard him say ‘I love you’ as you drifted to sleep, but your eyelids were far to heavy and your voice too tired to ask if you heard right. Luckily, he didn’t mind saying it again in the morning.

-:- -:- -:-

Thank you for reading!

Find me on:

Twitter: @copper_wasp_

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Discord: @copper_wasp#1545

#devil may cry #vergil x reader #fluff #copper-wasp writes

[emergenciesstory]

Sea Shanty- Part 2

Part 2: *Buckys POV*

Part 1 here

Your silence rang loud to Bucky, but he waited patiently, nonetheless. He could tell you were not at ease in their presence, and he didn’t blame you. 

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked, gesturing to one of the deckhands. “Would you like something to eat?” 

The man scurried off to fetch Steve’s request, your eyes following him as he went. Bucky stood silently, watching as you processed the scenes before you. Your hand stayed firmly on your sword, shoulders braced and tense. Your eyes met for a moment, curious yet full of fight. Bucky smiled, holding in a chuckle. You were no more than a frightened mouse. 

“Please, Join us so you can eat.” Steve took the small plate of bread, cheeses, and salted meat from the deckhand, thanking him with a nod, and placed the plate on the table beside their maps. He turned away, from their guest, back to the maps and sky. “I think two more days will suffice, wouldn’t you Buck?” 

Bucky turned his attention back to his friend, watching you from the corner of his eye. He tried to read the expressions on his best friends face, but they were deeply hidden behind the most disarming face Steve could muster. Bucky shook his head softly, laugh on his lips at the play. 

“Yes, I do believe we could make that work.” He replied looking back at the maps. Your movement to the other end of the table made him relax a little, trying to become smaller so as to not scare you. “That is, as long as we don’t run into any more obstacles.” 

Steve seemed to take in your presence joining them as well, as he turned ever so slightly to include you in their conversation. Neither man knew whom you were, nor your reasons for being on the ship they encountered a few nights prior, but they wanted to gain your trust the only way they knew how, by being open.

“Yes, other ships could cause issues.” Steve hummed, moving his fingers along the courses marked in dotted lines. “Wilson’s ships follow the channel, not that he would cause any issue, just a delay, as we could expect our friend to wish to drink together. The most issues have been found here, in the crossings.” Steve’s fingers traced a circle between two islands, marking it with an X.

“There’s a storm coming through the Northwest, our window will be slim.” Bucky responded, his finger placing on the map. “By the winds expected, we would end up in the middle of it, off course by three days.” 

“I don’t think we have the provisions to lose, both in the storm and with the added journey.” Steve sighed, looking about the sky again. Bucky studied the map, taking in your form folded on the barrel at the end, looking over the maps.

“You could adjust course north.” Your small voice rang out, dancing light in the breeze.

“You read the skies? Steve said softly, turning his attention to you. You nodded, eyes flicking up to him and back down. Steve slid the maps closer, gesturing for you to show him. Slowly, you moved your hand from an approximation of where you were, north into the storm, and to the port marked with a small circle.

“Hitting the storm earlier would push you back on course. By the time you get out, only minor adjustments would need to be made back west to counteract the change in the channel.” You said softly, looking back up at Steve to read his face. 

“She’s right.” Bucky said softly, making a mark of the new calculations with storm patterns.

“The only issue is this is Starks Territory.” Steve sighed. “If the storm pushes us too far, we would have to go back into it to get around.”

“We haven’t heard of anyone seeing Starks men in months, Steve.” Bucky countered. You pulled back at the sound of the name, and curiosity filled Bucky’s mind. He looked to Steve, hoping his friend saw the reaction.

“It’s a risk we shall take. I’ll tell the crew the new plans.” Steve turned to you with a smile. “Thank you for your counsel. It was much appreciated.” You nodded slightly, lips pulled tight as Steve moved quickly away. Bucky stood in silence with you still perched on the barrel, looking over the ship. He made the necessary notes on a piece of parchment while watching you in silence.

“We have arranged for you to stay in the Captain’s Quarters for the time being.” Bucky said softly, rolling up the maps. “There are clean bandages on the desk, and a couple of shirts with them. We hope you will ask for anything you may need.” 

Bucky looked up to find your eyes upon him, scared and curious. 

“No one will enter the quarters unless you invite them by mouth, you have my word.” Bucky said softly, watching you visibly relax, if only slightly.

“Thank you.” You said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything you wish, need only ask, my lady.” Bucky nodded, turning towards his cabin beside yours.

“I am no lady.” You muttered, almost  sad quality to it.

“Why would you say that?” Bucky asked, watching as you looked out at the water.

“A ship is no place for a lady.” Bucky took in your sadness, how you held your head high despite only his wildest imagination of what landed you in the horrors he saw only a couple nights prior.

“A ship is a place for those who wish to be free.” He said simply, nodding though you couldn’t see him, and backing away to his cabin.

________

“Well, what do we think?” Bucky asked Steve late that night in their shared quarters. Though smaller, with two hammocks situated across the back wall, it was plenty of space for the two best friends. 

“I think the former Captain should have been tortured for the things he did to her.” Steve muttered.

“Did she say anything?” Bucky countered from where he lay in the lower hammock, staring at the ceiling.

“No, but you can see the damage he caused in how she holds herself. She is terrified to be here, around us.” Steve slammed his fist on the tabe, leaning over it to gather himself. 

“She knows much about sailing.” Bucky said softly. “I watched as she moved around the ship after our discussion. She helped where she could, never said a word after the map though.” 

He looked over at Steve, standing from the hammock. “We got Rumlow. His ship shall never sail again, and like a good captain, he went down on it. No one will be placed in her position again.”

“I hope you are right.” Steve smiled a weary smile before clapping his hand on his friends back. “We should be hitting the storm in a day or so. The ship is yours until it wakes me.”

“Of course, Captain.” Bucky rolled his eyes, watching as Steve slipped out of his boots and climbed into the hammock. He grabbed his hat and stepped back out into the cool night air. This is what Pirating was for.

Part 3

[clippingmaskservice007]

What is Heroin?

Heroin is an opioid drug (derived from opium) made from morphine. This natural substance is extracted from the seed pod of several poppy plants (opium poppy) grown in Southeast and Southwest Asia, in Mexico and Colombia. Heroin can come in white or brown powder or a black sticky substance known as "black tar." Other common names of heroin are the axe, the devil, horse, queen and black sugar; In English, it is called big H, horse, hell dust and smack.

How is Heroin Consumed?

Heroin can be injected, inhaled, aspirated or smarties strain smoked. Some people mix heroin consumed with crack cocaine, a practice known as "fastball" or speedballing.

What Effects Does Heroin Produce?

Heroin quickly enters the brain and adheres to opioid cell receptors located in different areas, especially those associated with pain and pleasure sensations and those that control heart rate, sleep and breathing.

Prescription Opioids and Heroin

Prescription opioid analgesics, such as OxyContin® and Vicodin®, have heroin-like effects. Research suggests that inappropriate use of these medications may open the door to heroin use. Data from 2011 showed that approximately 4% to 6% of those who consumed unduly prescribed opioids went on to finish heroin. About 80% of people who consumed heroin had previously consumed unduly prescribed opioids. More recent data suggest that heroin is often the first opioid people consume. In a study of people beginning treatment for opioid use disorder, about a third reported that heroin was the first opioid they regularly used to get high. 

Short Term Effects

People who consume heroin report feeling euphoria or "rush", a wave of pleasant sensations. However, the drug has other common effects, including dry mouth, redness and warmth of the skin, the feeling of heaviness in arms and legs, nausea and vomiting, intense itching clouding of the mental faculties, the repeated alternation between a waking state and numbness. Long-term effects People who consume heroin for a long time may experience insomnia, the collapse of the veins in which the drug is injected, damage to the tissues of the nose infection of the pericardium. Heart valves, abscesses, constipation and stomach ache, liver and kidney diseases, pulmonary complications. Including pneumonia, mental disorders such as depression and antisocial personality disorder, sexual dysfunction, silver haze strain in men, irregular menstrual cycles in women Injecting drug use, HIV and hepatitis.

People who inject drugs such as heroin produce have an increased risk of contracting HIV and hepatitis C girl scout cookie wax. These diseases are transmitted by contact with blood and other body fluids. Something that can happen when sharing needles or other items used to inject Hepatitis C is the most common blood-borne infection in the United States. You can also get HIV (and, less frequently, hepatitis C) during unprotected sexual activity, something that makes the drug more likely.

Learn more about the connection between heroin and these diseases in our report Heroin: Abuse and addiction.

Other Potential Effects.

Heroin or buy purple haze online often contains additives such as sugar, starch or powdered milk that can clog the blood vessels that reach the lungs, liver, kidneys or brain, and cause permanent damage. Also, sharing the elements used in the drug injection and not thinking clearly when the drug is used may increase the risk of contracting infectious diseases such as HIV or hepatitis (see "Injecting drug use, HIV and hepatitis").

Is it Possible to Suffer a Heroin Overdose?

Yes, a person can suffer a heroin overdose. A heroin overdose occurs when the person consumes a sufficient amount of drugs to generate a reaction that endangers his life or causes death. In recent years there has been an increase in cases of a heroin overdose.

When a person suffers a heroin overdose, their breathing slows or stops altogether. This can't reduce the amount of oxygen that reaches the brain, which is known as hypoxia. Hypoxia can have short or long-lasting brain effects and effects on the nervous system, including coma and permanent brain damage.

How is a Heroin Overdose Treated?

Naloxone is a medicine that I can use to counteract an opioid overdose if given immediately. Quickly adheres to opioid receptors and blocks the effects of heroin and other opioid drugs. Sometimes it is necessary to administer more than one dose to help the person begin to breathe again, so it is essential to take the individual to the emergency room or to a doctor's office to receive the additional help they need. Learn more in the article Opioid Overdose Prevention - Instruction Manual of the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration.

Naloxone is available as an injectable solution (with the needle), as an auto-injector (EVZIO ® ) and as a nasal vaporizer (NARCAN ® Nasal Spray). Family members, friends or other community members can use the naloxone nasal spray or auto-injector to save someone who has suffered an overdose.

The increasing number of opioid overdose deaths has led to increased public health efforts to make naloxone available to people at risk, their families and initial relief staff, and other community members. In some states, laws have been passed that allow pharmacists to sell naloxone without a prescription.

Could you find out more on our page on naloxone?

Is Heroin Addictive?

Heroin is highly addictive. Frequently, people who consume heroin regularly develop tolerance, which means they need more prominent or more frequent doses of the drug to get the effects they are looking for. When the continuous use of a drug generates health problems or problems in school performance, work, or home, what is known as a drug use disorder occurs; these disorders can be mild or severe. Addiction is the most severe disorder.

Those who are addicted to heroin or stop using this drug may experience intense withdrawal symptoms. These symptoms, which may begin just a few hours after the drug's last use, include restlessness or restlessness, significant pain in muscles and bones, trouble sleeping, diarrhoea and vomiting waves of cold with "goosebumps". Uncontrollable movements of the legs intense desire to consume heroin Researchers are studying the long-term effects of opioid addiction on the brain. Studies have shown that there is some loss of white matter in the brain associated with heroin use, affecting decision-making, behaviour control, and responses to stressful situations.

How is Heroin Addiction Treated?

There are several effective treatments to help a person stop using heroin. These treatments include medications and behavioural therapies, that is, therapies that modify behaviour. It is essential to identify the best treatment strategy for the particular needs of each patient.

Medications are currently being created to help with the withdrawal process. The FDA approved lofexidine, a non-opioid pill formulated to reduce opioid withdrawal symptoms.

Medications that help you stop using heroin include buprenorphine and methadone. These drugs adhere to the same opioid receptors to which heroin attaches to the brain but do so in a weaker way, thus reducing the intense desire for the drug and withdrawal symptoms. Another medication is naltrexone, which blocks opioid receptors and prevents opioid drugs from taking effect. A study by NIDA revealed that once treatment began, the combination of buprenorphine and naloxone is similar in efficacy to a prolonged-release naltrexone formulation to treat opioid addiction. Since it is necessary to complete the detoxification to perform the treatment with naloxone, it was difficult to begin therapy with active consumers,

Behavioural therapies for heroin addiction include methods such as cognitive behavioural therapy and contingency control. Cognitive-behavioural therapy helps modify the patient's expectations and behaviour concerning drug use and effectively manage the triggers and stress. 

Contingency control provides motivational incentives, such as coupons or small cash rewards, that positive reward behaviour, such as not using the drug. These behavioural therapy strategies are especially effective when combined with medications. Please find out more about drug addiction treatments in our DrugFacts publication: Treatment approaches for drug addiction.DrugFacts: Treatment approaches for drug addiction.

Points to Remember

Heroin is an opioid drug (derived from opium) made from morphine, a natural substance extracted from several poppy plants' seed pod (opium poppy). Heroin can come in the form of white or brown powder or a sticky black substance known as "black tar." Heroin is injected, inhaled, aspirated or smoked. Some people mix it with crack cocaine (this is known as "fastball" or speedballing).

Heroin quickly enters the brain and adheres to opioid cell receptors located in many areas, especially those associated with pain and pleasure sensations and those that control heart rate, sleep and breathing.

People who consume heroin report feeling euphoria or "rush." Other common effects include dry mouth, heavy feeling in arms and legs, and clouding of mental faculties.

Long-term effects may include a collapse of the veins, infection of the pericardium (membrane lining the heart) or heart valves, abscesses and pulmonary complications.

Research suggests that inappropriate use of prescription opioid analgesics is a risk factor for starting heroin use.

It is possible to suffer a heroin overdose. Naloxone is a medication that, if administered immediately, can counteract a heroin overdose, although it may be necessary to help more than one dose.

Heroin can lead to addiction, one of the drug use disorders. Withdrawal symptoms include severe muscle and bone pain, trouble sleeping, diarrhoea, vomiting and an intense need for heroin.

Several effective treatments help a person stop using heroin; They include medications and behavioural therapies. However, we must customize treatment plans to suit the needs of the patient.

What is Cocaine?

Cocaine is an exceptionally addictive stimulant that directly affects the brain. Cocaine has been known as the eighties and nineties drug for its excellent quality and widespread use in those decades. However, it is not a new drug. Cocaine is one of the drugs that has been known for a longer time. Coca leaves, from that hard drug, is obtained, are eaten for thousands of years, whereas the pure chemical, complex drug coordination compound has been consumed for quite a hundred years. In the early twentieth century, for example, purified cocaine became the basic active principle that he used in most of the tonics and elixirs created to treat a wide variety of diseases. Girl scout cookie wax is an OG Kush and Durban Poison hybrid cross whose reputation grew too large to stay within its California homeland's borders.

Pure cocaine has initially been extracted from the coca bush's leaf of the genus Erythroxylum, which grew mainly in Peru and Bolivia. In the 1990s, and after several efforts to reduce cultivation in those countries, Colombia became the country with the highest coca cultivation. Today, cocaine is a drug facts classified under Schedule II ("Schedule II") of the Controlled Substances Act, which means that it is considered to have great potential for abuse, but can be administered by a doctor. For legitimate medical uses, for example, local anaesthesia in the particular eye, ear and throat surgeries.

Cocaine is usually sold on the street, nice and crystalline powder that is known in Spanish as "coca", "snow", "white lady", or "talc". In English some of their names are "coke", "C", "flake", "snow" and "blow". Traffickers generally mix cocaine with other inert substances, such as cornstarch, talc or sugar; or with certain active drugs such as procaine (a local anaesthetic of similar chemical composition) or other stimulants, such as amphetamines. Some consumers combine cocaine with heroin in what they usually call a "speedball" (in Spanish, it is also known as "scrambled", "rebujito", "French", or "coffee with milk").

There are two/three chemical forms of cocaine that are usually consumed: the hydrochloride salt (which is soluble in water) and the crystals of cocaine or base, known in English as "freebase" (which are not soluble in water). The hydrochloride salt, or the powdered form of cocaine, is consumed, injected or inhaled ("snorting"). The crystals of cocaine or freebase have been processed with ammonia or sodium bicarbonate and water and then heated to remove the hydrochloride and produce a substance that cannot smoke. The term "crack", the street for crystals or cocaine base, refers to the crunchy sound heard when smoking this mixture.

#buypurplehazeonline #silverhazestrain #Girlscoutcookiewax #Heroin #Cocaine

[tellthestoryofmybrokendreams]

Shadow

Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender

Pairing: Zuko/Katara

Status: Complete

Words: 1,860

AO3 Link

Previous Next

Desc: Sometimes Zuko just needs to be reminded that he’s loved, and won’t be abandoned again. Luckily, he has Katara, who’s made it her mission to do just that.

Or, married Katara and Zuko being supportive and loving.

A/N: Salutations my darling readers, and welcome back to 25ish installments of Zutara cuteness! Remember that these are in track order, not chronological order, and that I am an absolute slut for Zutara. Enjoy!

Katara winces as she hears her husband slip back beneath the covers. Her eyes are still closed as he attempts to settle back into bed, but she’s been awake as long as he has.

Earlier, she guessed by a half an hour based on the movement of the moon, he’d shot up from his sleep whimpering and panting heavily, waking her up. He’d sat there for a few moments and gently run his fingers through her hair, then slipped out into their room and paced, muttering fiercely and repeatedly conjuring large balls of fire just to snuff them out.

Now, as he turns and wriggles around trying to get comfortable, she lets out a tired whine and rolls over. Taking care to still appear to be asleep, she tosses an arm around his bare torso and lays her head right over his heart, forcing him to settle back into bed. He snorts, and she can hear the soft smile he now wears, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her so she’s almost on top of him.

“It’s almost like how a child holds a stuffed toy,” she thinks, until she feels him brush over the hem of her nightgown, which happens to be only a breath away from where her ass starts to curve.

“This one’s my favorite,” she hears him mumble, and she has to suppress a smirk. She knows.

His breathing evens out, and she falls back asleep to her favorite lullaby: the steady sound of him.

Usually her nighttime subterfuge is enough to counteract his nightmares, but she notices the glassy look in his eyes as she spreads moon peach preserve on her pastry the next morning.

“You’re nothing like your father my love,” she assures as she sets down her knife, and then takes a bite of her breakfast.

Zuko chokes on his tea, but tries to cover it, “What?” he rasps, clearly holding back a cough.

“You had another nightmare last night didn’t you,” she phrases it as a question, but they both know what she’s really questioning is if he was going to try to lie.

“Yes,” he sighs, “I was sitting in the Throne Room just like he used to, and Aang was trying to get me to do something, I don’t remember what, but all I could see was the Wall of Flames getting bigger and then you were there, and you were pregnant, and you said you should have known I’d be just like my predecessors. Then you-you turned and left, but you just looked so much like my mother did when she left and I knew that I’d done something to you, I’d hurt you.”

Katara reaches her hand across the table and takes his, smiling a sad smile as she does so. He looks up at her and smiles back, weakly, giving her hand a squeeze.

“That would never happen,” she declares, “Aang would never ask you something formally, he’d wait for you two to be hanging out as friends so you forget you’re the Fire Lord.”

He laughs, and she continues, relieved it’s working. “I don’t know about the Wall of Flames, but even when you’re in the Throne Room I’ve never seen it get bigger than a comfortable hearth fire. And ultimately, the entire thing comes apart because you’d never hurt me. Even all those times we tried to kill each other, you never hurt me. I mean, that was more because I kicked your ass, but the point still stands. And even if you had, you wouldn’t see me insulting and leaving you, Sokka would have already taken you out with his boomerang and had Toph trap you in quicksand, and then I’d kill you. Overall, two out of ten, tell your subconscious to do better.”

Zuko shrugs with a grin, and tells her he’ll pass along the message. But she can tell something is still bothering him. Rising from the table, she walks over to him and caresses his cheek. He takes a hold of the hand in question and presses a kiss to her palm. Closing his eyes, he takes a few deep breaths. The candles lighting their chamber reflect them

“I’m terrified of losing you,” he admits, and she’s a little surprised. She knew that, of course, and she was scared of losing him as well. But he’d never really seemed scared of losing her by his own fault. The amount of nobles and important military figures who’d been jailed for conspiring to put Azula on the Throne, or kill their non-traditional Fire Lady, was something they were well aware of, and Katara knew Zuko was scared of her death at their hands. She’d always assumed that he’d known there was just about no other way to get rid of her.

“Zuko,” she whispers, and he looks into her eyes with tears in his own, “there is nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you. Even if you lost me, which you never will, even if I had to leave you, which I never will, I would still love you. Even if I die tomorrow and you have to go on I will still be there. I will never leave you.”

He chokes out a sob and pulls her close, scooping her up and plopping her in his lap. Even as he continues to cry, even as tears fall from her own eyes, she cradles his face in her hands and gently runs her fingers through his hair. They stay there all morning; a simple look from her tells all to the servant who’s come to fetch them for a meeting that they will not be attending. Her head now rests in his shoulder, and his is partially buried in the loose hair she hasn’t yet pulled back.

Finally, Katara wiggles and pokes at his stomach, “Zuko.”

“Hmm?”

“Zuko, you’re gonna have to let go of me.”

“Why?”

“I have to pee.”

“No.”

“No? No you won’t let go?” she laughs in disbelief.

He shakes his head into her curls, “Nope. You don’t have to pee.”

“Tell that to my bladder.”

“Katara aren’t you a master waterbender? Couldn’t you like bend it-”

“Zuko, my love, that’s disgusting. Also, do not doubt that I had that conversation with Sokka multiple times while we were traveling. The answer is not something I am willing to find out.”

He sighs and loosens his hug, pressing a kiss to her lips before standing up and stretching. She chuckles and heads off to relieve herself, shaking out her legs as she walks.

Heading to bed early that night, she is far too tired to bother with a proper nightdress. She simply falls into their bed naked and slips under the covers. Zuko had let her know that he was going to be making up for the time he’d missed that morning and she shouldn’t wait for him. Usually she would, but today she’d had to don one of her heaviest Fire Lady outfits and parade herself around the city to rub elbows and kiss babies. The nation was getting restless without an heir, and most of the people who lived in the city already disapproved of having a foreigner as a Fire Lady, let alone a waterbender. They’d all wanted their daughters to marry them into the Palace. It was always a bit jarring to see the blatant resentment of her position in Caldera since the rest of the Fire Nation loved her, especially after hearing about her adventures as the Painted Lady.

She falls asleep almost instantly, face buried in Zuko’s pillow so she can still smell him like usual, but is awoken at midnight by her husband closing the door behind him. Katara is a heavy sleeper, but she and Zuko had always been so attuned to each other that it was impossible to sleep when the other was nearby and restless.

He removes his robes as she had, and pulls on a loose pair of sleep pants. Pulling back the covers to slide in next to her, he sees her and stops dead, sucking in a breath. She grins and rolls slightly to look directly at him.

“Hey hot stuff,” she croons, and immediately falls into a giggle fit as soon as she hears herself. Calming down, she takes a deep breath and looks up at Zuko.

He snorts and shakes his head, raising an eyebrow as he flicks his eyes over her naked body again. She sighs and rolls her eyes, pretending to cross her arms over her breasts and turn away until a warm hand shoots out and grabs her shoulder to hold her in place. “Not so fast,” he growls, and she grins at him through hooded eyes.

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

He’s on top of her instantly and she sighs as he kisses down her neck and shoulders, her energy renewed as a fire blooms in her belly and spreads through her body.

Nightmares continue, for both of them. Katara can’t even count how many times she’s shot up in bed choking on her tears and needed Zuko to light a few of the torches in their bedchamber and breathe in her ear, just so the vision of her not being able to save him from Azula will leave her mind. Zuko’s own dreams are haunted by his old life, and she knows he’s glad she saw the worst of him before the best.

But they love each other. They are yin and yang, fire and water, spark and shadow, and she would not have it any other way.

When she feels the blood pulsing in the veins of those around her on full moons, he listens to her fears of being a monster. He holds her and traces patterns into her skin, tells her everything he loves about her. He tells her how the first time he saw her bloodbend he thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. When he is flooded with guilt at the thought of all his past wrongdoings, she admits that when he’d caught her arms, tied her to a tree, and taunted her, she had been sure he’d used his firebending to set a fire in her core and make her knees shake with anger and arousal. She braids his hair in Water Tribe fashion, smiling as he looks in the mirror and chuckles.

She remembers all those times Aang had looked at them with jealousy, or when Mai had pulled her aside and reminded her how hard being the Fire Lady would be for a girl of the Southern Water Tribe. She thinks of the dirty looks she’d gotten as she’d held his hand throughout his coronation, of angry rich Fire Nation girls her age calling her dirty and suggesting she clean the “filth” off her skin.

But then and now, always and forever, they were at each other’s sides. They were soulmates, she was sure of it. They loved each other at their lowest and brought each other to their highest, and really, there was no sort of relationship that was better.

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zutara #zuko #zuko x katara #zutara fanfic #zutara fic #zutara fanfiction #katara #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #writing #my writing #bleachers #shadow #songfic #oneshot #fire lord zuko #fire lady katara #inked ideas