#/ how do i make muses that don't want to talk to each other talk? bump into them

[analudsilva]

OPEN / CLOSED ╎ @dominicdavis​​ location  —  anywhere

   —   one thing she was grateful for was coffee. a little piece of heaven to battle the tiredness after sleeping somewhere under four hours. and probably why she managed to collide with someone adding a second thing to be grateful for - lids. “i was lost in my head,” she was going to give the person a small smile and an apology, but when she realized who it was her face fell and the apology was forgotten. “of course it’s going to be you. the universe just wants this day to be shit.”

[whiskeyncoke-redux]

I’ve always thought it would be fun to be a seat-filler at award shows, and now I can’t stop thinking about sitting next to a flirty Pedro Pascal.. (especially since they say you aren’t supposed to talk to the actors!)

The idea of him introducing himself (as if he isn’t a famous actor), sharing candy he snuck in with you or trying to make you laugh while on air and having to shoo away the award show employees that try to intervene. Him just being smitten with reader the whole night.. okay, I’d *love* to hear your take if it interests you!

Hi Nonny dearest, sorry it took me so long to respond, I just had to get my thoughts together because I LOVED this idea so much!! So here we go, hope you like it.

The Seat Filler

Pedro Pascal x Reader

A/N: here's another one, hope you all like it. No hateful comments please. Again I gotta shout out @ziggyrocket for the support ❤️. It's 6:32 in the morning, apparently I don't sleep like a normal person, I'm on my second cup of coffee, so any typos or whatever are my bad... and Maxwell house coffee's.

Warnings: none (well, corny jokes I guess)

----------------------------------------------------

You had signed up for this gig half on a dare and half out of curiosity. Being a new sign-up, you hadn’t expected to be called in right away, but yet, here you were, in a borrowed gown, in a theater mixed with some of the biggest stars and regular people just like you: seat fillers. 

You remembered the main rules the director told you: 1) look like you’re enjoying yourself, always smile and 2) most importantly DO NOT talk to the actors, meaning the actual celebrities. You nodded and murmured your understanding along with everyone else who was there to work as fillers, not really thinking anything of it. What celebrity would want to talk to me anyway? You mused as you took your seat.

You looked around the theater, excitement flooding through you at the idea of being in such a place surrounded by people you had admired from afar, in magazines, and online. You took a deep breath to steady yourself; you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. You glanced at the empty seat next to you on your left and wondered who’d be in it.  On your right was another filler and on their right was another empty seat.

The filler next to you leaned over slightly and whispered, “Who do you think they’re gonna put next to us?”

You shrugged. “No idea, hope it’s someone good.”

He nodded in agreement, then a look came over his face as he glanced over your shoulder.  You turned your head to look and you blinked hard as you recognized the man coming towards you, and taking the vacant seat next to you. While the man next to you was busy getting settled,  you glanced back over at your fellow seat filler, whose jaw had semi-dropped. You both exchanged excited looks, then you nudged him lightly with your elbow and he shook himself, cleared his throat lightly and sat up. You both faced forward, determined to be on your best behavior. 

Unfortunately for you, your newest seat mate had different ideas. Pedro knew the whole deal with seat fillers and how they were told not to speak to anyone. But he felt a mischievous streak go through him when he saw you glance at him briefly. 

“Hi,” he said, taking his seat. “I’m Pedro Pascal.”

“Hi,” you said back, nervously glancing around to make sure that no one saw you speaking to him. 

The two of you smiled at each other, before you turned back to face the front. He took a few seconds to study your profile as you sat there, determinedly facing the front, sitting as still as a statue. 

He glanced down and saw that your elbow was resting on the shared arm rest. With a small smirk, he placed his on the arm rest too, bumping yours. 

You looked over at him, smiled awkwardly and whispered a hurried, “Sorry,” before moving your arm and facing forward again.

After a few minutes, you placed your elbow back on the arm rest, and, noticing that, Pedro, bumped your elbow again with his. You moved your arm again. And then a few more minutes later, you placed it back again, only for him to bump you again. After the fourth time this happened, you looked over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow and he just smiled innocently at you.

A few minutes later you felt him shift next to you, you looked over and saw him pulling out a bag of Skittles. You tried to hide your smile, but he noticed and nudged you slightly and offered you some. You looked around, making sure that there was no one watching, and then you held open your palm and he shook some of the candies into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered and popped a few into your mouth. 

A little over an hour into the show, you could feel him getting restless next to you. You figured the sugar had gotten to him. After the Skittles, he had pulled out a candy bar, broke it in half and shared it with you. He fidgeted in his seat, tapping his fingers on his knee and the seat. You tried to ignore it, but you had to admit it was more than a little distracting.

“Are you okay?” you whispered hurriedly to him.

He turned to you and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you though?” you asked, gesturing to his jiggling knee.

He smiled. “Yeah.” But his knee kept jiggling, you had to suppress a laugh at that. 

He noticed you struggling to keep a straight face, and decided to aim the restless energy he had at you. He was going to make you laugh, really laugh, by the end of the show. His mind was made up.

He thought for a moment and then he leaned over to you, “Psst, hey.”

“Yeah?” you answered looking straight ahead.

“I have a question.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Why did the bicycle fall over?”

You were confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I said: why did the bicycle fall over?”

“Uhh, I don’t know. Why?”

“Because it was two tired.”

You turned to look at him after that, he laughed at the look on your face.

“That was corny,” you said, shaking your head, but pursing your lips to keep from laughing.

“Oh, that reminds me of another one,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. He looked around,  cleared his throat, and then asked, “What does corn say when it gets a compliment?”

You shook your head and shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to say anything but wanting to hear the punchline, you turned to him.

Barely able to suppress his giggles, he answered,”Aw, shucks!”

You put your hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the laugh you felt escaping your lips.

“Okay, one more,” he announced. 

“Oh, lord,” you groaned.

“It’s a good one, I promise.”

You waved your hand slightly for him to go ahead, knowing he would anyway.

“Okay, why are pirates called pirates?”

You bit your lip trying not to laugh. “I don’t know why?”

He leaned closer. “They just arrrr!” he whispered the last word in a bad pirate accent. 

You couldn’t help it, you snorted, then quickly covered your mouth to stifle your giggles, but he’d heard it, and he smiled at that.

“Good one right?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, oh my god, that was bad, but…” you couldn’t finish as a fresh wave of giggles overtook you. Your shoulders shook with your suppressed laughter.

He smiled and laughed along with you. For the rest of the ceremony, he would lean over and whisper comments about one person’s speech, or another’s outfit, nothing malicious or mean, just something to make you smile. And he always had a bad joke or two to whisper to you. 

By the end of the program, your cheeks were hurting from all the smiling and your stomach was sore from the laughing. You couldn’t help it, a few had escaped, luckily it was during the jokes the emcee told, so it looked as if you were enjoying the show. Truth be told, you couldn’t remember what had happened during the show, or who had won which award. If someone had quizzed you on it after, you surely would have failed; but you felt it was worth it because being seated next to Pedro had made it the best night of your life. You hadn’t laughed that hard, or enjoyed yourself that much in a long time.

After the show was over, you headed out with your fellow seat filler.

“You seemed to really be enjoying yourself,” he said as you filed out into the lobby.

You nodded with a huge grin on your face. “Yeah, I did.”

“I could tell,” he said, nodding, “what was he saying to you to make you laugh so much?”

You shrugged. “Oh, just a few jokes, and comments that’s all,” you said lightly.

He looked at you curiously, but when he realized you weren’t going to elaborate he commented, “Lucky you. The one they put next to me was on her phone the entire time.” He shook his head. “At least you got some entertainment.”

You two chatted for a little more, making plans to grab a late dinner with him and some of the rest of the seat fillers. Before you could leave, however, you felt someone tap you on your shoulder.

“Okay, I have another one,” you heard Pedro’s voice in your ear before you could turn around. “Just thought of it.”

You looked at him. “All right, go on.”

“Which bear is the most condescending?”

You started laughing then answered, “what?”

“A pan-duh!”

You burst out laughing along with him. “Where on earth did you even hear these?”

He shrugged. “Internet.”

“They are so bad,” you said, still chuckling.

“And yet, you laughed. Therefore they did their job,” he pointed out.

“True enough,” you agreed, “thanks though.”

“For what?”

“Making this event… well, eventful. I was prepared to be bored out of my mind, sitting there like a statue, smiling a fake smile the entire night.”

He smiled at you. “Well, I’m glad I could help. So, what are you planning on doing after this?”

You shrugged. “I was gonna grab something to eat with some of the rest of the seat fillers…”

“Oh, okay, I'm doing the same.” He nodded and looked away. You noticed that for a second he looked slightly nervous, but before you could get a good look, his face cleared and he turned back to look at you.

“I guess I should let you go then…” you said, turning to catch up with your friends.

“Wait, one more question.”

You stopped and looked back at him. “What's up?”

“Well, you know, I have a lot more jokes…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, and, well, all my friends and family have heard them. But you haven’t, at least I’m pretty sure you haven’t….”

You nodded. “I haven’t, I don’t think.”

“Good, well, I shall have to inflict them upon you, you know, if you don’t mind. Maybe over dinner tomorrow?”

You thought for a second. “I don’t mind at all,” you answered with a huge grin.

[pokedawriter]

Nymph!Reader x Sumeru!Men

- gn!reader

- Kaveh & Tighnari (I can do Alhaithem and Cyno later if people want)

- The Sumeru men stumble upon you... how to they react?

Idk what I'm doing man

Kaveh

He was scouting out a location one of his clients wanted, surveying the land to figure out what could go where and if a building was even possible

Of course, with his terrible luck, he slips and falls down a hill, bumping his head and falling unconscious

When he comes to, the most beautiful being he's ever seen is looking down at him, his head in your lap

As he gets up, he realizes you've tended to his cuts and bruises, putting a strange paste on the and then some leaves

You ask him a few questions on his health and he asks you where he is

After a bit of conversation, he realizes you are 1) a nymph and 2) will die if this grotto is destroyed

he'll go back to the city and have a hard time convincing his clients to move elsewhere, but he'll manage

He tries his best to visit you while also keeping you a secret, though his friends learn pretty quickly

Alhaithem learn anyways though because he sees Kaveh's notes on you

Tighnari learns because Kaveh asks him about how to take care of nymphs

Cyno learns when Kaveh asks him about protected areas of the forest and what qualify

They all follow him and meet you, much to Kaveh's annoyance and dismay

His friends help him make your grotto a protected area of the forest, preventing any future construction in it

Kaveh will try to visit you all the time, even after this

you're Kaveh's muse and he can't help but be enamored by your beauty. You inspire him and you're so kind and he hates leaving your side

You even make a little place for him in the roots of a huge tree

he brings you trinkets from the city and he can't help but smile when he sees your wonderment with the little toys

Perhaps he could live here instead of with Alhaithem

Tighnari

He was exploring a little further than usual when he found your grotto. How your little sanctuary has remained undiscovered for so long is genuinely a mystery to him

He tries to take a flower but you appear and bap his hand

Flora person? An aranara? No, you're too human looking to possibly be one

You don't attack him but you don't let him pick anything either

He comes back repeatly over the next few months to study you and you study him with equal intensity... he thinks?

While he writes notes on you, you draw him with different colored flowers and make little figurines of him out of wood

Eventually, one day you start speaking to him (which surprises him greatly, because he had been talking with you this entire time and you never responded, just gave him various head tilts and hand motions)

You can casually banter with each other and you teach him about the plants in your grotto

Coming to see you is his favorite part of the day and he eventually brings Cyno (with your permission). Cyno cracks his puns much to Tighnari's dismay

However, Tighnari likes the moment when you are alone together best

"I could study you forever. You're so beautiful and fascinating"

[shadowsndaisies]

the hard deck: too observant to play dumb (pt 1)

wc: 1.7 k

synopsis: how the arrival at the hard deck went

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: hey yall! so fun fact it has been 8 years since I started this blog, and as a little thank you, I have a 3 part update to the athena-verse, the whole thing comprises the hard deck scene from the beginning of the movie and will end basically where athena settles debts starts. as always I hope you enjoy, and let me know if you want to be added to the tags!

You'd been standing with Jake and Javi when Nat finally walked in.

"Athena! I've been looking for you!" she shouts, pulling your attention away from the pool table you'd just set up with Javi.

"Oh shit, sorry 'Nix," you offer a half smile.

"Answer your god damn for when I call you," she groans, pointing menacingly at you.

"Yes, Ma'am," you mock salute before noticing the two men behind her. "Looks like you made new friends just fine though," you offer jokingly.

"Payback, Fanboy. Meet Athena, smoothest flier you'll ever see," Phoenix introduces, and you smile warmly at your friend before offering your hand to the two behind her.

"Nice to meet you fellas," you greet.

"High praise coming from Phoenix," Fanboy notes, shaking your head.

"Highest of the high, actually," Payback adds on.

"Yeah, well, there's almost no one I'd rather have on my wing than 'Nix," you compliment back. You were going to ask how they knew your friend, but someone else interrupted you before you could.

"Yo, are we playing or what?" you roll your eyes as you turn back to where Jake and Javi are standing and gesture to the three in front of you; you realize Jake is hunched over the table, lining up his next shot.

"I'm playing nice, Seresin. You should try it," you prod, and Javi manages a slight smirk at Jake.

Jake looks up and makes eye contact with you while landing a ball in a corner pocket, and you can't help but roll your eyes again, cocky bastard. When he straightens, he finally notices what has caught your attention. "Well, what do we have here? If it ain't Phoenix, and she found new friends," he smirks, walking around the table in your direction. "And here I thought we were special Coyote. Turns out the invite went out to anybody."

It's almost like a switch is flipped, you realize, watching as Jake now interacts with others. Cocky attitude inflating his ego in a way that was so Hangman but not necessarily Jake. Nat didn't believe you when you tried to explain that you saw past it, and that's why you were friends. She was confident in her reading, which fair, especially when he acted like this.

"Fellas this here is Bagman," she introduces, and you can already tell it's going to be a long detachment spent between your two friends, especially since they hate each other.

"Hangman," he corrects, tone slightly barbed.

"Whatever," Phoenix makes a face at him and rolls her eyes when she looks at you as if to say, C'mon Athena, don't you see what I'm talking about? "You're looking at the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill," she adds on, turning back to Jake.

Your eyes narrow at the compliment-like a statement; however, you don't trust it for a second.

Hangman smiles, "Stop," he muses as he settles down beside you, bumping your shoulder with his as he does, full of pride like a peacock strutting his feathers.

"Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War," she clarifies, and you nod; you felt this was where she was taking it.

"Cold War," Coyote corrects, always one to back up his friends.

"Different wars, same century," Payback interjects.

"Not this one," Fanboy tacks on.

"Who're your friends?" Coyote asks, eyes dancing over the two on either side of Phoenix.

"Payback."

"Fanboy."

Both aviators introduce themselves with a simple nod, and you can't hide your smile of amusement. The testosterone was off the charts, and Nat was leading the bunch.

"Hey Coyote," she greets, eyes darting to Javi, and you fight the smirk at the look in her eye.

"Hey," he greets, dragging out the 'ey' a bit, and your eyes dart over to Jake just to find a knowing look already focused on you.

"Who's he?" Nat asks, nodding to the side.

"Who's who?" Coyote's brows had furrowed down, and then Nat turned to look at the quiet Aviator in glasses who'd been munching on peanuts while you played pool.

"When did you get in?" Coyote's voice floats over from behind you as you take a moment to observe your silent comrade.

"Oh, oh I've been here the whole time," he admits, and your brow quirks, and quickly you turn to look over at Jake.

"Man's a stealth pilot," you muse gently, and even Nat cracks a smile.

"Literally," Coyote nods.

"Weapons systems officer, actually," he corrects, and your lips twitch; he's adorable, you decide immediately.

"With no sense of humor," Jake huffs out.

You elbow him, and he gasps before standing and handing off the pool cue to Nat.

"What do they call you?" you ask, voice sweet.

"Bob," he answers, offering a hesitant smile in response to your wide one.

"No, your call sign," Payback clarifies.

He seems to hesitate, "uh.." he trails for a second, and you can read the nervous energy easily. "Bob," he repeats, and you frown a bit at the cautious undertones of his voice.

"Bob Floyd?" Nat asks. "You're my new backseater? From Leemore?" her tone had turned a bit incredulous. The smothered chortles from Payback and Fanboy were not nearly as covert as they seemed to think it was, based on the glares Nat was sending them.

"Looks like it, yeah," Bob confirms, and that nervous undertone is still there.

Nat pauses and looks at you. You tilt your head knowingly, and she nods, turning to the back seater.

"Nine ball, Bob. Rack 'em."

"Uh.. kay, yeah," he nods, standing and taking the pool cue outstretched in Natasha's hand.

You pat your friend's shoulder knowingly before turning to look for Jake. You spot him at the bar and start walking that way. You pause, though, when you see him talking to Penny, and then you realize who was on the other side of her and, most likely, who had just caused the bell to ring. Leave it to your dad to piss off the woman who loved him through his worst and best without even trying.

You're so focused on watching the interaction at the bar you miss it when he walks in.

"Bradshaw! That you?" Nat's voice rings out over the noise of the bar. It's only now starting to get busy, and you can't help the way your head snaps over to him.

You'd knew he'd be here. He said as much in his email, but being confronted by him and the past you avoided was something you decided then and there that you weren't ready for.

You're stuck, frozen, watching him interact with Phoenix.

"This is how I find out you're stateside?" she asks before lining up to take her next shot.

"Yeah I thought I'd surprise you," he responds with an easy camaraderie that you hadn't realized existed with the woman you considered to be one of your closest friends these days.

He's looking around the bar, not having spotted you yet, when Nat lets out a hum, taking her shot. Obviously, she lands another in the pocket; this was Phoenix we're talking about. She manages to hit Bradley in the gut with the end of the pool cue, forcing him to keel over a bit.

A petty and vindictive piece of you takes pleasure in that. But another piece, a little girl, she aches for the easygoing relationship and the best friend she once had.

"Guess I surprised you back," she smirks, facing Bradley.

He nods at her, "it's good to see you," he manages to huff out, slowly standing back up.

"It's good to see you too," she smiles, and he lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, and you have to turn back around.

You're counting your breaths again, focusing on what you can see, touch, hear, taste, and smell. You realize too late that Jake's analyzing you. He'd seen how you stiffened up and focused on the interaction, and he saw how you forced yourself to turn around, away from Bradley.

He grabs the beers Penny offers him and a glass of something else, says something to Penny, you think, and then turns back, walking toward you. He places the glass in your hand with a whispered "G&T."

"Thanks," you manage to spit out.

"Where's your head?" he asks, voice still low, and you know that right now, no one is paying attention to the two of you.

"A little too far off the ground," you admit; it wasn't worth the effort to lie to Jake; generally, he saw through it anyway.

You notice how his eyes dart past you, looking at Brad and Nat, but he doesn't ask you about it. Instead, he asks, "What do you need?"

"Time machine?" you ask, eyes finally meeting his straight on instead of jumping around like they had been. He was good at that, asking the right questions; probably a perk of learning how to piss everyone off is also knowing when to pull back.

"Fresh out, I'm afraid," the drawl in his Texan accent always appeared early in the morning and late at night, but also when he drank. Your favorite appearance was in the whispers when he talked low, and it just tended to bleed into every word; it made you think of Jake the football star, Jake the kid who grew up on a ranch, a version of the man before you, you never got to meet.

"Then I guess I'll have to just… manage," you muse sourly.

"You always tend to do better than just manage, 'Thena," he reminds you.

"I don't know about that, at least not this time," you admit.

"This got something to do with Bradshaw?"

"You're too observant to play dumb," is how you answer.

"What, is this a kiss and not tell situation?" There's a cloud in the green of Jake's eyes as he asks, and you're tempted to answer, but quite honestly, you weren't sure if there was a statute of limitations on don't kiss and tell, and you're not sure if your first kiss when you were 13 counts.

"No, it's a different kind of history," is what you actually say. "I'll be okay, you go on though, I just need a minute," you urge.

Jake hesitates, not at all sold on what you'd said, but slowly, he takes a step forward and then another until he's approaching the pool table again.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes

[tainted-liquor]

'Make it Awkward...⋆｡°✩

E1610!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, Kisses, n a lil bit of smiles! TWs: Awkward teen love like rlly rlly awkward W/C: 1.8k A/N: SZA Inspired fic ❤︎!! another cute lil req from my 100 special!

You and Miles had developed a sturdy friendship in middle school, with you always being hyped up as the "art kid" in each of your classes. Initially, he was a little bit bitter because he didn't really understand what the hype was all about. He could draw, and he could do it just as good as you. Which, granted was indeed true, but your work felt like something out of a Van Gogh discography. Each and every one of your paintings and drawings almost looked like there was a filter over them, like something out of a flurry dream that evoked nostalgia and warmth in whoever seemed to view them. To say he was inspired by you was an understatement, he wanted to drown himself in everything that was your talent.

But as time passed and spiders bit, you two grew apart from each other on account of him semi-blowing you off for Gwen. You stopped hanging out slowly, he began to drop art and pick up a sudden interest in physics and inter-dimensional travel, and even got...meaner? The kind and innocent kid that once was Miles suddenly became jumpy and antsy. You thought that you two had something worth way more than any other friendship you had, but one day shit just shifted into complete, and total, awkward silence. But as time heals all wounds, you slowly began talking again at the top of this month, right before your summer came to its close.

Miles quietly hummed along to the steady bump of the music in his headphones, nodding to the rhythm as he began illustrating a head in his sketchbook. As 'Les' By Childish Gambino slowly fizzed out and the electronic chords of 'Awkward' By SZA became known, his sketch started to warp a little. He didn't necessarily remember how or when, but he noticed his sketch become a lot less androgynous and more familiar, with twinkling brown eyes and thick curly hair becoming more detailed with each pencil stroke. It took him a while to realize, but eventually, he had drawn...you. Down to the finest details as well, your smile lines and your perfectly sculpted Nubian nose.

What he hadn't anticipated was filling up the next 2 pages of his sketchbook with both your face and the signature crochet fingerless gloves you wore during the winter. What initially was just a warmup while waiting for you to arrive at his house turned into a full-blown drawing session with you as the muse. You weren't even there and he still had drawn you 100% accurately from memory. He sighed as his playlist continued to play out a steady stream of nothing but SZA, leaning back in his chair as he stared up at the ceiling before he heard a knock on his room door. "Ah-Come in!" he yelped as he quickly put away his sketchbook, swapping out the pencils and paint markers for paintbrushes and canvases.

You gently pushed open the door, showing Miles your painted tote bag full of art supplies, such as watercolors, charcoal, oil paints, three palettes, and various paintbrushes. "Hey, Miles! Sorry, it took me a lil bit...that fuckin' line in the art store was INSANE" you chirped as you slowly entered Miles's room and set down your bag. You placed your shoes in the corner of his room before walking over to sit on his bed. He pulled off his headphones, gently placing them on their stand before spinning around in his indigo desk chair. "That's fine! Don't even worry about it I know how full them stores get" he shrugs as he grabs his Bluetooth speaker from off his shelf, motioning for you to follow him as he stacks the canvases and art supplies in his hands.

"C'mon, there's not enough space in my room for two people to paint," he explains as he climbs the stairs up to his apartment roof. You followed closely behind him, setting up the art supplies as he fidgeted with his speaker. You lean back against the wall as you sit on the concrete roof, taking in the pretty sky as you sketch out some buildings and a landscape on your canvas. "So how's summer for you, huh? What's her name...Gwen was it? How'd things go over with her?" You ask as you begin to add minor details to your sketch. Truth be told it ate you up every single time he would mention her in your past conversations, with you having a small...thing for him that grew over time.

"Oh! Uh, Gwen...yeah. Things went south, we don't really talk anymore..." He shrugs as he rips the plastic off of a rather large canvas. You nodded slowly, indicating that you were hanging on to his every word as you cracked open a fresh bottle of paint thinner, pouring it into a small glass cup before coating your brush in the clear mineral spirit. You slather a couple of shades of deep blue, rusty orange, bright magenta, and off-white on your paint palette as you work to form that beautiful 'sunset gradient' on your canvas. He connects his phone to the small black speaker, his playlist resuming quietly in the background. "But how's your summer been?" he asks as he mirrors the process of sitting beside you and leaning against the wall.

"My summer's been fine actually. Nothing too eventful, no trips or nothing, just taking a couple...ahem...adventures!" You explain as you recall how you nearly got in trouble with the police for trespassing in various abandoned locations for funsies. Miles gives you a playful side-eye, looking you up and down. "You sound a lil sketchy...what did YOU do this summer?" he chuckled as he began sketching out some scenery and what looked like the early stages of a body on his canvas. "Shhhh, your dad's a cop" you giggled as you picked up a smaller brush, filling in the buildings and scenery in your painting. You both chuckled at the slight confession, looking ahead of you so you could get an accurate view of what you were currently painting.

You took a small glance at what Miles was currently sketching, getting a good look at the faceless humanoid figure sitting cross-legged, with an unidentified object that vaguely resembled a pencil in her hand as she drew on her...face? Eyeliner maybe? You hummed along to 'Supermodel' By SZA. You held up your canvas closer to Miles's canvas, analyzing the difference in art styles. Yours was much more realistic, and heavily influenced by the world around you with your unique play on your color palette. whereas Miles was more stylized and thought out, the colors remaining true to their actual hue.

"What do you think this needs more of?" you ask as you tilt your canvas towards Miles. He thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly so he could thoroughly analyze the painting. "More shine to the light sources maybe? Like a soft glow!" he beamed as he pointed towards the canvas with the opposite end of his paintbrush. You nod with your signature full smile, smile leans indicating your raw and unfiltered joy. Miles's eyes lingered on you for a couple of seconds before he madly swiped away at his canvas, seemingly blocking out more details with darker shades of watercolor.

You spent the next four hours, yes, four hours giggling like children as Miles sang along terribly to some of the songs on his playlist, starting a mini karaoke session on his roof with the both of you. It began to get cold and dark, so you decided you would pick up the canvases again after going inside to get something to eat. He grabbed his speaker and supplies, leaving his large canvas on the roof of his building before disappearing through the door to his apartment complex. You stuffed most of what you wanted to bring back down into your bag, before deciding to look over at Miles's painting. It looked exactly like you, but you were younger.

You remembered that damn scrunchie you had locked on your wrist, your favorite dark red satin scrunchie that went perfectly with your uniform. You shifted slightly to get a better angle of the canvas, watching as 8th grade you sprung to life in the form of doing your eyeliner on the bathroom sink. Miles had been there with you, watching as you painfully kneeled on the edge of the sink and leaned hazardously close to the mirror. You smiled softly to yourself as you noticed each beauty mark you had perfectly positioned on your face, from each scar to every minor indent in your smile. You chuckled quietly before swinging open the door and bolting down the stairs, straight to Miles's room.

And there he was, viciously fucking up a cup of noodles like someone would take it from him at any moment. "Damn, is it good? it ain't goin' nowhere now..." you joked with wide eyes as he gestured to an identical cup cooling off by his mini desk fan. You ate alongside him in silence, not really knowing what to say to each other. "I see you're still painting like in middle school...?" he states, referring to your distinct blurred style of painting. "Huh...Oh! Yeah, haha. I miss middle school kinda." You shrug as you sit the cup down on the side of his desk.

"Really? I always thought you thought I was a lil annoying back in middle school. I think you were my quietest friend ever" he joked as he finished his cup, dunking it in his trash can. "Huh? I literally thought you were the cutest thing ever! If I thought you were annoying I would've told you!" you stated with a small chuckle. Miles seemed to think for a moment, pausing as he processed the first half of your sentence. "Wait, you thought I was cute this whole time?" He asked with wide eyes. "Yeah! I was quiet cuz I didn't wanna fuck anything up! I think I had the fattest crush on you!" you laughed as you realized he thought that YOU thought he was annoying this whole time.

He gawked for a minute, his jaw slacked and eyes even wider than before. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" he semi-shouted as he began pacing around his room. You could only laugh, saying "We were like 10 and I didn't know if you would've liked me back." He looked at you as if you had 2 heads, going on some long rant about how he always thought you just weren't interested or thought he was annoying. You silently got up from his bed, walking over to him and stopping him entirely.

Miles looked at you with a rather confused and amused expression, probably still processing the fact that you openly admitted to liking him in middle school. But nothing in the world could have prepared him for the delicate kiss that you placed on his lips. He eagerly closed the space between the two of you, wrapping one arm around your waist almost by instinct. You pulled away from him after what felt like years, muttering a small "Who taught you that?"

[princess-of-the-corner]

Sorry but "Not mean just rude" AU musing regarding Lady Wfi:

When Nino rounded the corner, he was surprised to bump into Adrien who seemed just as surprised to bump into him. Evidently they'd both been stomping in a state.

It was Adrien who recovered first though, normally placid expression marred by real anger.

"Nino, what is this I ear about your & Alya breaking into Chloe's locker?"

"Dude, you're seriously mad about that!? Chloe got Alya suspended over it!"

Surprisingly, Adrien just folded his arms, expression unchanged, "I'm amazed she didn't push for expulsion."

"Are you playing me right now man?" He'd thought Adrien was cool, much cooler than this!

"Why wouldn't she?" Before Nino could speak, Adrien let out a deep, pained breath, "Look, Nino. Dude. Chloe & I have been having reporters, strangers, co-workers and 'friends' doing everything from breaking into our homes, going through our trash, selling literally 'anything' we might have once worn online and even try to plant things just to make a story. So like..."

Nino only realized now that Adrien didn't have his arms folded, he was hugging himself, and doing so tighter.

"So yeah, I'm not at all angry with Chloe for snapping when two of her classmates, one of whom is a reporter broke into her locker. Or that the principle just told her to get over it. Why shouldn't we be mad?"

Nino had, had something to say, none exactly a bullet pointed list, but a strong general vibe and through line about horrible behavior and how much it hurt others.

Unfortunately, even as he opened his mouth, a single digit raised as if to begin counting off he found no sounds coming out.

He tried again, Adrien's eyebrow arching up as he watched Nino try & fail to form words.

"You... Yeah I guess its fair you're upset man."

"And Chloe, I'm just angry on her behalf, she's the one who's got reason to be upset."

"She didn't seem upset-" Nino cut himself off as Adrien started hugging himself again and looking ready to run. "But hey, what do I know? We don't talk."

"We all get upset differently, Chloe... She can't explain things to you like I just did, or barely can and I... I'm not good at being angry, Chloe usually did that for both of us. Its always been like that, we look out for each other."

Anger tabled for the moment, Nino was, honestly stumbling around in the dark, this was the most Adrien had ever said about himself that seemed so... Vulnerable.

Well, on purpose at least. The boy did not realize just how messed up some of the stuff he thought was normal was, and this only drove the point further home.

Shrugging, Nino floated a thought the blonde's way, "Chloe's not a famous model, did she really get as much attention as you?"

"Her dads in politics and she's around celebrities all the time, and actually had a public profile. Plus, she did model with me for a year or so, but then her baby fat came off at twelve so she had to stop."

"Stop?" Nino was pretty sure most models wanted to be skinny right?

Adrien shrugged, "Dad said she was too razor edged and gaunt to appeal to anyone and her mother said she looked like a shrew and should stop wasting pixels. So yeah, she stopped."

Adrien said that with the same banal tone he always delivered these little nuggets or negging nightmares with.

It left Nino with little more to add than an, "I... See..."

'What the hell is wrong with these people?' It certainly put some things in a slightly different light. Slightly.

"So, I did my part, why am I meant to be upset for Alya & not angry at you both?" Adrien asked, this time his tone was more searching and genuinely flummoxed.

"You're asking?"

"I am, we're friends, and I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, and its like I said. Chloe's the fighter, I'm the chatty one," he said with a slightly forced smirk.

YEAH GET THEIR ASSES.

Like I love Alya and Nino but GOD they were in the wrong this episode.

[ooo-yeah-baby]

Photograph

Yandere Jonathan Byers x Reader

I only write sfw, feel free to send asks, stalking, obsession, usual yandere stuff, the internet is lacking in love for him, I did not proof read.

"She's so beautiful." He thought, holding your crumpled picture above his head as he lay in his bed. 

Since the moment he met you he had been enamored. The way your shoulder felt as it brushed against his in the hall was ingrained in his head. 

"Oh! I'm sorry!" You had chirped reaching down to pick up the books the two of you had dropped from the small collision. At first he thought maybe you had done it on purpose but who would drop their own things just to make fun of someone else? 

"I'm really sorry!" You handed him back his papers, accidentally leaving one of yours somewhere in the stack. "I'm a complete space cadet today." You made some sort of motion, gesturing to your head. 

He was pretty much awe struck from that moment on. 

He never would have figured out your name if it weren't for that one finicky page. "Y/N L/N" written in neat, chicken scratch hand writing. He thought he should return it to you but couldn't find the courage to talk to you nor had he had the will to give it up for some reason. 

Conveniently you went to him looking for the paper. 

"Hey!" You yelled down the hall as you spotted him. "You!" You pointed at him. Confused, he pointed back at himself to assure the situation. "Yes! You! I've been looking for you." You huffed as you reached him. "Did one of my pages get scrambled into yours the other day?" He was kinda quiet, shocked that you were asking, it seemed. "From when we bumped into each other? A few days ago?" 

"Oh- uh- yeah." He sputtered. "I don't think I saw anything but if I do I will definitely tell you." He fibbed, clutching the straps on his bag a little tighter than before. 

"Really?" You groaned. "I guess I'll have to ask for an extra copy. Thank you, mm- I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name?" 

He felt this kind of jittery excitement. 

"Jonathan." A smile crept up his lips and his hands relaxed. 

"I'll remember that." You held your hand out. "My name is Y/N." 

Such a small interaction, really. But for someone like Jonathan, who barely talks to anyone who isn't related to him or friends with his brother, it was like a light at the end of a lonely tunnel. Like a sugar rush. He wanted to talk to you more. He wanted to be near you more. He wanted you. 

But how could someone like him just walk up and start talking to you? How could someone like him even think these things about someone like you? 

Somehow though, you kept approaching him. You had plenty of friends. Was it pitty? Or did you maybe actually enjoy his company? Either way he was basking in the utter joy of your presence whenever youd find your way into his vicinity; or when he'd find his way into yours. 

But eventually just seeing you in school wasn't enough. He needed to see you constantly. He needed to see you when he woukd wake up and see you when he went to sleep. 

So, of course, he used his camera to capture your image. Sneaking shots of you while you were unaware of him, at school, walking home, at home, etc. 

His room was filled with shots. He had to be extra careful when printing so not to be caught by one of your friends. The centerpiece of his crazy, scattered photos was your missing paper, the name began going fuzzy from his fingers tracing the name. He tried to think of any excuse to tell others and himself that would maybe justify his strange, obsessive stalking but even he couldn't rationalize it. 

Eventually he began to accept that this was just normal to him. He was a photographer, how could he not take photos of someone as beautiful and perfect as you? You were his muse. His. 

[mowiwow]

intertwined starlight (modern alkaid)

“Ta-dah!”

…

…

…

You feel a little silly with your arms spread out while doing the good old jazz hands motion. Still, Alkaid doesn't miss a beat and applauds you enthusiastically.

You turn your gaze to the mirror, holding a reflection of both you and Alkaid. Little star and comet-shaped hair clips decorate Alkaid's hair, scattered about in an artistic chaos. You're in no better condition, with similarly themed hair clips in your own hair.

"We look silly, don't we?" you muse, laughing a little at how absurd the two of you look in the mirror.

"I think we look great," Alkaid replies sincerely with a bright smile. "These hairclips you made look amazing."

"Yours look great too, Alkaid. They're so detailed," you hum, reaching up to lightly touch one of the many hair clips in your hair. It shimmers and gleams under the warm, golden glow of the ceiling light above. "You really have an eye for detail."

"I like your designs more," he says, turning around slightly so he could look at you directly. "Your style of making things is my favourite."

"Happy to please!" you grin, leaning over to press a light kiss to the forehead of the seated Alkaid. "Oh, also! Hold on, stay there, let me just..."

A few steps across the room and a flick of a switch later, the room is quickly plunged into darkness. You hear your name being called out amidst the darkness, confusion clear in Alkaid’s voice.

“What…”

His question dies on his lips as his attention is caught by brightly shining lights in the mirror. Alkaid’s reflection is illuminated by countless stars of different colours, all coming together to form a little galaxy of his own. Giddily, you make your way over back to Alkaid, happy that the hair clips have worked as intended.

“I made the clips so that they would glow in the dark!”

Pausing, you remember a list you once sent Alkaid— one full of cheesy pickup lines.

“...Because you light up my world," you add.

Alkaid blinks owlishly at your reflection for a few moments before laughing softly. His eyes crinkle happily as he turns around to face you.

“May you come closer?” he asks.

“Of course,” you reply in a heartbeat.

As you lean towards him, curious, you watch as he unclips one of the many star-shaped hair clips from his hair. His fingers gently graze the side of your face as he pins the hair clip to your hair.

“There we go,” he murmurs. “My lovely little star. Though there’s nothing in this world that can compare to your brilliance, this will have to do for the time being.”

From the corner of your eyes, you catch sight of your reflection standing along with Alkaid’s. Two stars standing close to each other, basking in each other’s light.

You stare at him, flabbergasted, for a few moments before you laugh in defeat with warmed cheeks. “You sap,” you reply affectionately, leaning over to lightly bump your forehead against his. “It’s your birthday today, this is supposed to be about you, not me.”

“Is it?” he says with a hint of mischief. “What if I want to make it about you, though?”

His hand finds yours in the dark, fingers shyly brushing up against yours. With a grin, you securely intertwine your fingers with his.

“I’ll turn it around, then. I can talk about you all day.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asks cheekily.

“You’re on,” you laugh, squeezing his hand lightly.

The two of you lapse into a momentary silence, taking the time to listen to each other’s steady breathing.

“Happy birthday, Alkaid,” you whisper. “I’m glad I met you on that mountain that day.”

Alkaid hums quietly, his hold on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “Me too,” he replies quietly.

It takes a few moments for him to break the silence that follows. Alkaid’s voice is almost fragile yet resolute as he says sincerely—

“Thank you for finding me, my lovely star.”

[captainsophiestark]

Popcorn

Wedge Antilles x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Star Wars

Summary: Wedge and his SO have a happy, calm relationship, and watching their dysfunctional friends on the Hoth base has become an entertaining passtime for them.

Word Count: 1,129

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You are the most ridiculous, selfish, laser-brained man I've ever had the displeasure of meeting in my entire life!"

"Oh yeah, keep talking Princess! And go ahead and conveniently leave out the time you screamed my name at the top of your lungs when you thought that wampa was gonna get me! I know you care, even if you refuse to admit it!"

"Just because I didn't want someone carrying important informaiton for the Rebellion to get eaten by a wampa doesn't mean-"

I tore my eyes away from the argument unfolding before me when my hand bumped against Wedge's. I fixed him with a look, and he quickly pulled his hand back with a laugh and a smile. I shot him a wink, then pulled out the handful of popcorn that I'd been going for. He grabbed one of his own right after as I leaned further into his side.

We'd both been taking a spare few moments to grab lunch when Han and Leia, two of our good friends, had come storming into the caf arguing up a storm without paying anyone but each other even a hint of attention. It had become a regular enough occurrence since Han joined the Rebellion and we'd moved into our Hoth base that people basically didn't even notice anymore. In the early days, Wedge and I would try to intervene or mediate, but we'd long since given that up.

Now we'd officially reached a new level. We were currently kicked back together, his arm around my shoulder and a bowl of popcorn in my lap, as we watched our friends bicker.

"Which one of them is going to admit feelings first, do you think?" Wedge mused, muttering in my ear low enough that nobody else could hear it. I hummed, pausing to think about my answer while I chewed on another handful of popcorn.

"Well, I don't think it's going to be Leia. She's way too stubborn to let him win like that, I think."

"So you think it's gonna be Han?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'll do it very gracefully."

Wedge nodded beside me and took another handful of popcorn.

"That would make sense."

I snorted, leaning into him a little more as I turned my attention back to our friends. They were still in the middle of their shouting match, and didn't seem to be slowing down any time soon. It was honestly a little impressive how long they could go at full volume, hand gestures included, without losing energy.

At first, it had been kind of a problem on base. People had to take long detours to avoid getting in the middle of spats between two high-ranking Rebellion members, which was time consuming and incredibly awkward when someone was forced to turn around mid-hallway to avoid Leia and Han. But then it got old, and we all got tired of trying to give them space and privacy. And they clearly didn't care too much about keeping things private, since they usually didn't pause their arguments, even when Rebellion members walked straight through the middle of the two of them.

"Hey Wedge?" I mused, my eyes still on Han and Leia even as I addressed my boyfriend.

"Yeah?"

"Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you?"

He'd been mid-grab on another handful of popcorn, but he stopped short at my words, dropping his hand and leaning away from me enough that he could look at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Why?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing serious. Moments like these just... make me grateful. That we're both mature enough to talk to each other about our feelings, and that we're the couple cuddling together in the cafeteria eating popcorn and not the couple screaming at each other in the hallway."

Wedge chuckled, pulling me tightly back into his side again and rubbing a hand up and down against my arm.

"I'm grateful for that, too. And I'm sure the rest of the Rebellion agrees with us. I don't know if we could handle more than one pair of constant arguers."

"I know I definitely couldn't." Wedge huffed another laugh, and I grinned at the sound. Han and Leia seemed to be winding down now, which meant Wedge and I would need to move shortly if we wanted to avoid getting shouted at by one or both of them for using them as our entertainment.

"So... any chance you have a Rebellion task to do that I could help you with?" I asked, turning to face him more fully. "I technically have some things to do for Rieekan, and a few others for Ematt, but I'd rather hang out with you if you can give me an excuse."

"I actually could use an extra hand working on my X-Wing. I've got some repairs to finish, and I could probably handle them myself, but an extra set of hands and eyes would definitely make things easier, too. And I want you to hang out with me, since I can give you an excuse."

"Perfect," I said, shifting forward to sit up more fully and getting ready to head to the hangar. "Looks like we've got a plan, and just in time, since Han and Leia seem to finally be wrapping it up."

"You're right, they are. Better hide the popcorn."

I laughed, helping Wedge as we stood together and he slid the (now mostly empty) bowl of popcorn behind his back. We headed for the edge of the cafeteria just as Han and Leia fully broke apart and went their separate ways. I shifted a little closer to Wedge to make sure no one noticed the popcorn bowl as Leia passed us with a curt nod.

Once we'd safely disposed of the evidence by putting the popcorn bowl with the rest of the dishes, we headed out of the caf together, Wedge's arm wrapped around my shoulders and both of us grinning.

"Now, look at how mature we were there," he said, playing up the pride in his voice. "We worked together like a well-oiled machine to get away with something, right after admitting to each other we wanted a reason to hang out for the rest of the day, rather than coming up with arguments as an excuse to be in each other's space."

"Oh absolutely. We're the model of a good couple."

Wedge and I shared a look, then both started laughing together as we wound through the hallways of the base. I felt more comfortable with him than with anyone else in the world, and I never let myself forget how lucky I'd been to find him.

It always just hit home a little harder after observing our friends interacting with each other for more than a few minutes at a time.

***************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

[ghost-type-appreciator]

[A video is attached]

[Warning for a Sibling Fight, everything turns out okay though :)]

[Watch it?]

It's a view of the forest, Seraphina is practicing moves, both pokemon and martial, and fuecoco is cheering her on. She seems rather focused- until a twig snaps. And her head snaps in the direction of the sound.

"Who goes there?" She calls, readying her fiery blades.

Out of the brush comes Agni, and Seraphina's face lights up, "Agni!" The blades go out as she walks towards her sister- but the look on Agni's face makes her stop.

"...Agni?"

"We need to talk, Phi."

The two stare at each other for a moment, neither wanting to speak first, but Seraphina breaks the silence.

"I'm not going back with you."

"You have to. Mother and father will-"

"I don't have to do anything! I'm my own person-" Seraphina puts a hand to her chest.

"How can you be your own person when you haven't even stepped out of the castle in 7 years, Phi!"

"And who's fault is that!" Seraphina shouts, the clearing falls silent.

After a few moments, Agni raises her fists. "...Fine. then we'll do this the hard way."

[Seraphina used PROTECT!]

[Agni used FLAME CHARGE!]

Agni slams into the hexagonal shield Seraphina throws in front of her, flames dispersing. Agni's eyes widen once she realizes what exactly happened.

"Where did you-" she doesn't have time to muse any further as Seraphina raises a hand wreathed in dark claws, eyes glowing.

"I am DONE being your punching bag!" She shouts, bringing down the claws.

[Seraphina used SHADOW CLAW]

The claws hit Agni and send her to the ground, she looks incredibly worse for wear from the single hit.

[It's super effective!]

"haah-" Agni lets out a breath, shaking and coughing.

[Agni fainted!]

the glow leaves Seraphina's eyes and her face twists from rage, to confusion, to fear she gasps.

"A-agni..." Seraphina drops to the ground, and pulls Agni into her lap.

"n-nice hit, sis." Agni smiles.

"I-Im sorry I don't know what came over me I'm- I'm so sorry."

"Eh it's alright. You won this time. Nice one." She holds a shaky fist up.

Seraphina lets out a soft breath of relief, and smiles, returning the first bump.

"sure. Good talk, sis."

Agni grins, "Good talk."

[Video ends]

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

I Left My Heart in San Fransisco

I Left My Heart in San Francisco (Higuruma x Reader)

My love waits there in San Francisco…

~

Hiromi Higuruma considered himself a professional, a man dedicated to his work. That dedication was most likely the cause of his nonexistent social life. Something Shimizu, his associate, felt comfortable enough pointing out to him. 

“When’s the last time you went out? Just to see a movie? Have a nice dinner?”

Hiromi just ignored her questioning and took a sip of his coffee.

After a barrage of incessant pestering from Shimizu the two of them took a small break at Takagi’s cafe, which was conveniently empty in the middle of the afternoon. 

Takagi was his former coworker from his first job out of law school. The fact that she had to work another job on the side proved that the pay in criminal law was abhorrent. 

The words of his law professors at Nagoya University rang true. 

Criminal law was for the bleeding hearts who didn’t let money drive them, but the passion for the legal profession.

That was all well and good but Hiromi still would have liked to own a home in his lifetime. 

Takagi approached the table with a couple of muffins, on the house for her fellow attorneys.

“Leave him alone Shimizu, this time next week he’ll be smooching his college sweetheart in the City by the Bay,” she mused as she sat down next to her.

“(Name) and I weren’t in a relationship, we were friends.”

“With benefits?”

“Shimizu, you’re embarrassing him,” Takagi scolded. 

“What? We’re all adults here. It’s not like we’re talking about holding hands on the playground.”

Hiromi just clenched his jaw. “No. And if we’re just going to waste time prying into my personal life I don't see why we can’t go back to the office and get some work done.”

He reached down to grab his briefcase before his associate stopped him.

“Wait,” Shimizu protested. “I’m sorry. I was just curious. I didn’t mean to step out of line.”

Hiromi relented and picked up his muffin. 

“It’s fine.”

“Either way,” Takagi chimed in. “It’ll be good for you to get away and relax.”

“It couldn’t come at a worse time. I have a million things to do at work,” he mumbled. “Maybe I should just cancel.”

“Absolutely not. It’s just a weekend. I can handle our caseload until you get back,” Shimizu assured him.

“But-”

“No buts, you're going and that’s final,” Takagi ordered. 

~

Hiromi had met you when he was a student at UC Berkeley. He had been fortunate enough to receive an opportunity to study abroad the last two and a half years of his undergraduate studies. 

You had bumped into each other at a mixer for pre law majors. 

He admired you. 

How you held yourself in class, never backing down from a challenge, always passionately engaged. Hiromi was a bit more reserved, yet the two of you connected like opposite poles.

You were good for him and he was good for you. 

You forced him to put the books away and take periodic breaks, frequenting the local 7-Eleven with enough regularity that you were on a first name basis with every employee. He was able to reign you in when you flew off the handle, passion being easily misinterpreted as hot headedness. 

On one occasion a spat with a chauvinistic legacy student, during a mock trial, led to you lunging over the bench to give him a black eye. Thankfully Hiromi was able to ensnare his arm around your waist before you got yourself expelled. 

“Guys like that just…oof…they make me so…fuck,” you vented over your usual Big Gulp.

He just nodded and snacked on his Snickers Bar. 

Hiromi liked you, maybe he liked you more than he let on but he squashed that possibility like a miniscule ant under his thumb.

He didn’t want to ruin his friendship with you by having some brief fling the two of you could grow to regret. 

The logistics were a nightmare anyway, there was an entire ocean separating the both of you. He’d eventually have to go back to home and the two of you would further your studies, start practicing law, and continue the never ending cycle of human life. 

~

You had invited Hiromi to San Francisco for a weekend. You were tired of being relegated to emails and wanted to have a proper reunion. 

‘I’d like to see you in person. It’s been too long, Hiromi.’ 

~

��Sir?”

A voice woke Hiromi up from his catatonic sleep. He looked up to find a flight attendant standing above him. 

“We’ll be arriving soon,” she informed him.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

Had he really slept the whole flight?

What did he expect after pulling so many all nighters? And how did he still feel so tired?

~

Hiromi rolled his suitcase out of the airport at around 6 pm. He followed the directions you gave him to the parking garage and spotted you in the loading zone. You stepped out of a polished BMW, dressed up in a well tailored pants suit. He was slightly taken aback, you looked so…sophisticated. You hurriedly sprinted over to him and practically tackled him to the ground in a bone shattering hug. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” you exclaimed. 

He indulged himself by hugging you back. You were still the same (Name) in some ways. 

You pulled away and took his hands in yours. 

“How are you Hiromi?” you asked.

“Jetlagged,” he mused. “You look good.”

You smiled. “So do you.”

“Liar,” he playfully retorted. 

~

“So where to?” you asked as you sped through the city. 

Hiromi gazed out the window at the scenery whizzing past him.

Memories from the occasional day trips the two of you would take here flooding back to him.

He loved the old homes, the hole in the wall restaurants, the water, the breeze that snuck through your clothes, the seagulls and pigeons that pestered you for bread. 

“I’d honestly like to relax a little if that’s okay,” he said despite the guilt he held.

He was always working so the idea of not working was a concept he was unfamiliar with. But he wanted to try and ease himself into doing nothing and allow himself to rest.

“So nothing touristy,” you confirmed.

“Definitely not.”

You smirked. “Fight it all you want but before this weekend is over I’m going to get a picture of you in front of the Golden Gate Bridge wearing an ‘I heart SF’ shirt.”

That got a laugh out of him. He felt embarrassed to laugh out loud sometimes but just for the next few days he’d indulge himself.

~

You lived in a small yellow house sandwiched between a Mexican bakery and an ugly gentrified apartment building. 

The inside of your home had old creaky wooden floors and mauve walls that complemented the antique furniture. You had decorated with nick knacks and trinkets you had collected through your travels. It was so homely compared to Hiromi’s apartment that still had furniture unassembled in boxes.

“Obviously the floors are a bit annoying and it gets a little cold in the winter, but it’s home.”

Hiromi peered around. “I think it’s wonderful.”

“Are you hungry?” you asked.

A little,” he admitted. “I slept through the in flight meal.”

“Should we order in or are you up for going out?”

He thought it over. “I’d prefer to order in but if you want to go out I could manage it.”

“We’ll stay in,” you decided. 

“Okay.”

You went to the kitchen to retrieve the take out menus you had stored away in a drawer.

“Burmese or Italian?” you asked.

~

Over a feast of both Burmese and Italian food you and Hiromi caught up.

“So how did you find this place? Didn’t your parents live by the pier?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah but a few years ago their building was bought by this development firm so they had no choice but to relocate to Sacramento.”

“I’m sorry (Name).”

“It’s sad but it’s just a reality of what’s been happening here.”

“The apartment next door?”

You scoffed. “Isn’t it hideous? If you're going to force people out of their homes to build housing for rich people can you at least make it pretty?”

Hiromi nodded in agreement.

“Anyway, to answer your question one of my mother’s friends wanted to move to Oakland to be closer to her son’s family, so they worked out a deal for the rent and I was able to move in. Thank god because I’d never be able to find a place nowadays.”

“And this place is close to the nonprofit you volunteer at?” he asked.

“It’s just down the road, mostly pro bono work for low income families. I’d like to do more but my day job keeps me pretty busy.”

Hiromi finished the last of his beer. “But you like the work?”

You smiled. “I love it.”

He pondered that sentiment trying to apply it to himself.

~

The next day the two of you got up early to make the most of your brief time together. Hiromi secretly wished he could have stayed longer, even if he knew a weekend away from work was already pushing it. 

After filling up on coffee, the two of you walked across the street to an old record store tucked away behind a former Blockbuster. 

“It’s sad they went out of business,” you sighed. “Many times we rented that same copy of Dumb and Dumber from there.”

“I hated that movie then and I hate it now,” Hiromi mumbled.

You smirked and leaned against a box of old cassettes. “Well we can’t all be as intellectual as Hiromi Higuruma. What was your favorite movie again? The Graduate?”

He smiled despite himself. “Please, I was in my early twenties. That movie is tailor made for people that age.”

Hiromi stopped combing through a stack of old records and ironically pulled out Sounds of Silence.

You gasped. “That’s a sign. You need to buy that.”

“To play on my imaginary record player.”

Despite the record having no practical function in his apartment he bought it with little resistance.

~

After the record store you drove to a cafe to pick up sandwiches and clam chowder. Once you had secured your food you went to the beach to have a picnic. You laid out the old quilt you brought from home and settled down for a feast.

“This is so good,” Hiromi groaned. “I forgot how amazing the food is here.”

“Surely you have your favorite local spots back home?”

He sighed. “I don’t really go out much. I pretty much live off the convenience store on my street.”

“Well I know you told me you like to take on harder cases, but why not give yourself a break?”

“I am,” he argued. “I am, I’m taking a break right now.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hiromi, a weekend with jetlag doesn’t count. You need a real vacation.”

“I don’t know what it is about me. I just get so��obsessed.”

You set your sandwich down. “Okay look. How about we make a deal?” 

“What?” he suspiciously asked. 

“You can take on one more, excruciating, difficult, sleep depriving case, and then you have to start to cut back.”

“What do I get in return?” he asked between bites.

“A lap dance from me.”

He nearly choked on his sandwich as you broke out into a fit of laughter. 

“(Name) are you trying to kill me?” he managed to get out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Once you had calmed down you presented him with your real offer.

“We’ll go on a real vacation.”

“Where,” he asked. 

“What’s the one place in the world you’ve always wanted to go?”

He thought for a moment. One place he always wanted to go. 

“Iceland.”

“Interesting,” you mused. “Why Iceland?”

“I’d like to see the Northern Lights.”

You nodded. “Then that’s where we’ll go.”

“(Name) I can’t just drop everything and-.”

“Don’t get in an argument with me Hiromi, you know who’s going to win.”

He relented and tossed the remaining crust of his sandwich to a nearby seagull. 

“Deal.”

~

To celebrate his final day in town you promised Hiromi a home cooked meal. 

“We’ll go to the market later, but since it’s still early let’s go to the bakery next door and get some pan dulce.”

While you paid for your order Hiromi looked through a small box of wooden bracelets by the register. 

“What are these?” he asked. 

“Saint bracelets,” you answered. “It’s a Catholic thing.”

You plucked one out of the box and handed it to the cashier. 

“No, I don’t need one,” he argued. 

“It’s a souvenir. It’ll go with your new record.”

~

“Is it supposed to be so…crunchy?”

You wrinkled your nose at the final product.

You had planned to have risotto but your combined culinary skills led you to create a big pile of crap.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. I added way too much salt to it.”

You tried to smother your laughter. 

“It was an honest mistake, at least we still have the wine.”

You got an idea. 

“I have crackers, let's just get some meat and cheese and make a charcuterie board.”

~

The two of you lounged on the couch. Hiromi’s cab would arrive soon to take him to the airport. By this time tomorrow he’d be back in his small apartment staring at a record he couldn’t listen to and a bracelet from a religion he didn’t practice. 

“Do you want a family Hiromi?” you asked.

He thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. I don’t have the time. What about you?”

“I’d like to get married someday, but I don’t want kids. Does that make me a bad person?”

“Of course not.”

“Can you tell my parents that?”

He chuckled. 

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Sometimes I feel like I’m missing something but then that feeling goes away.” 

“We’re getting older, do you think we’re just settling?” you asked.

“No. I think we’re just doing what we want. The thing that gets us out of bed every morning.”

He sighed.

“(Name)?”

You looked at him. “Yes?”

“I really want to go to Iceland with you.”

You smiled. “It’s a deal.”

~

The cabdriver stuffed Hiromi’s suitcase into the trunk of the car and slammed it shut. He stood in front of your house giving it one last look before he left. 

“Hiromi?” you asked. 

He looked at you, taking note of how you anxiously crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“Yes?”

You bit your lip and looked up to meet his eyes. 

“Why…didn’t you ever ask me out back then?”

His breath hitched. 

“I…” 

“Why not even for a night?”

He swallowed his fear and dared to speak the truth.

“I didn’t want to say goodbye.”

You took a step forward, closing the gap between you. 

“Well then don’t say goodbye, say I’ll see you next time.”

He reached up and shakily cupped your face in his hands. 

You kissed, your lips meshed perfectly with one another, two lost souls reunited in a single moment. 

Hiromi pulled away and wrapped you in his arms. 

“I’ll see you next time.”

You surrendered him from your grip and he got in the cab, giving you a final wave. 

The cab sped off into the night, he watched you until you got smaller and smaller, and just like that you were gone. 

~

(Several months later)

Reykyavík was a beautiful city, but not as beautiful as you. 

Hiromi held your naked body tightly against his, unwilling to let you go. You cradled his face trying to etch every little detail into your memory, every line and crevice. 

Neither of you wanted to forget a moment of this. You intended to make the most out of your two week stay in Iceland, even if it meant you never left your hotel room. 

You sighed in relief as Hiromi’s calloused hand caressed your hip. 

“So what should we do today?” you murmured. 

He pressed his lips against yours for the umpteenth time that morning. 

“This,” he mumbled. “Just this.” 

~

My love waits there in San Francisco…

The End. 

[cantillat-moved]

I've see people reblogging positivity memes a lot and I would like to say a few things. For starters I'd like to preface with:

I try my best to keep up with the drafts and post as much memes as possible and try to interact with people but I'm not fast and I'm always second-guessing myself. I don't want to assume things about a mun or a muse and make them upset, this is why I make starter calls once in a blue moon.

But I do want to interact with every single one of you.

I see so many talented people on my dash, so many creative people with their muses and a lot to explore. I know sometimes people get insecure bout their muses, specially if there are duplicates, but let me tell you this: every one of you have something that only you can provide. You don't need to have fancy writing or pretty graphics, the most important part of everything is the creativity and the passion that each one of you has. "Oh but I'm not creative enough" or "I'm not cool enough" or anything ? You are enough. We are taught to always compare ourselves to others but the truth is that you'll never be like the next person, you are you. Some aspects you can only improve by practicing and even so it is secondary as long you are having fun.

I love hanging out with my friends even out of character. I could yell at everyone how I love reading the lores, the head canons, to see people interacting with each other. The kind and patient @electricea (and our cursed videos), the inspiring @more-than-a-princess and our old ladies chill time, how @moonlightmagus is always willing to indulge me in shenanigans, @lyriccl and her versatility and creativity, @goreburdened and her cool ideas and so on. A big shoutout to @puckish-rogue amazing (and funny) worldbuilding and @pulseofthestars for always being there. There are so many people I'm looking forward interacting even more like @chibitantei , @fakcr , @sentofight and @quickdeaths . I could spend a very long time just talking about how your presence in my dash brings a smile to my face every time.

I know it is easy to feel discouraged, to want to feel appreciated. I'd like to thank all of you for your patience and for sticking around and to let you know that I think you are cool. I might be very bad at being in touch but ya'll are cool. Please remember to be kind to yourself, sometimes we tend to be harsher to ourselves than we are towards others. Treat yourself whenever you can, ok ?

I'd send each of you a virtual hug but I know some people aren't huggers so have a virtual fist bump.

Enjoy yourself. Have fun.

[ducknotinarow]

[2k7 Rasey uwu]

Things were better now. They had their home, they had each other. Casey hadn't been this happy in a while, and sure there were rough patches and friction, little moments where they spat. It was normal though, it was okay. They were okay.

No dragon hunting tonight, it was way too cold for that. Casey had his arm around the back of the couch, idly allowing Raph to lean against him, if he wanted to. It was warm, comfortable, as they watched the game. It was cosy, and Casey wouldn't have it any other way. Alas, the knock on the door ruined the softness of the moment. Casey hummed as he got up, not too worried about it,

"Probably one of the kids," He states with a shrug, "Yanno they sometimes crash 'ere cause they get locked out."

He didn't think much of it, even if it meant his night with Raphael had already come to an end. Least Raph understood and knew Casey had become the blocks Uncle, and that this was a pretty common occurrence. Popping open the front door, Casey wasn't greeted with one of many kids that he already knew, but a baby basket, with a baby bundled up, and a note explaining who they were,

"Uh, Raph?" Casey called out to them, "We got a situation 'ere."

Leaning down and taking the baby basket, poor thing was probably freezing out there already, he brought them over to the Terrapin. He shared an unsure and concerned glance with Raph,

"I mean, it's a kid but...I don't think someone's comin' back for 'em; kids don't get abandoned with a note if there's somewhere for them t' call 'ome..."

And it's there Casey looks to the bundle, and there's that usual softness to his gaze whenever he's with a tiny person. He had the same one with Buttons all those years ago, the same one with Ariel whenever they babysit, and now, this stranger which he had opted to take out of the basket to instead start cradling. Only difference is, there's no one the baby has to go back to. It wasn't said, but, well, Casey always wanted to be a dad - he had made up his mind even before Raphael could make sense of this entire thing. Casey looked up to Raphael, smiling softly, making an, arguably rash decision in this situation,

"Yanno, we did always wan' a kid."

| muse interaction continued from [ here ]

Was that enough to piss him off? The turtle thought as he narrowed his eyes a moment at Casey. Raph knew Casey was just being his bastard self when he asked. As their head moved to rest against his own though and they nuzzled in against him that little laugh they breathed out got his attention more, a slight flutter in his chest as he took it in. Not to mention what Casey said. Yeah Casey wanted a kid it seemed clear that day Raphael dropped by their place and they had been baby talking to 'Buttons'.

I want yer an' I t' 'ave our own kid

Raph let his forehead and eyes relax from the natural scowl he wore so often. Ignoring Casey's remark on how everything pisses him off despite pretty much having given them proof right in front of them, unclenching his jaw. Before he nuzzled in back letting his forehead softly bump against Casey's own. Letting eyes close a moment as he let his beak find their lips. A soft short lived little peck against their mouth as he let his beak curve into a soft smile a moment against the feeling.

"Eh guess sometimes ya can say somethin' smart 'ere and there."

Casey's arm was draped over the back of the couch, opening his side for Raph, who took advantage of the opening to lean in and rest against their side. Moving to nestle in against them head resting back against their shoulder. Raph just didn't want to waste a moment anymore. He was stupid before so now he openly soaked in every action of affection he could from Casey. They were doing better the break up an awful memory now but still lingered in Raph's mind time to time. Yet now? Now they were good. Raph pretty much lived with Casey at this point always over at their place. There as in the one they shared, retreating to the lair only when he really had too or during the day. But well this little sliver of yellow that always drew him in was his to share with Casey. Sure they fought but what couple doesn't more so who wouldn't expect two hot heads to fight and spat with each other they always made them work out though. Raph never wanted to go to bed mad with Casey after all. Slight smile tug at the corner of his beak. Raph wasn't paying attention to anything else but Casey right now sneaking a glance up.

He liked this all of this everything they were building together. Of course he wanted more with them. Raph knew a life without Casey, and he hated it. not having Casey but feeling he wasn't allowed that thought since he was the one who let them go. Those little pitter patters Casey spoke about.

"Me too" he says finally "Lookin' afta' a lil' trouble maker wit' ya? They gonna rise hell ya know that right?" Talking as if they already had send hell riser with them, "bet they gonna be a fuckin' puck head 'ike ya." He smiles a little thinking about said kid swinging hockey sticks around with Casey. "Get 'em a lil crib, with hockey puck print blankets." he chuckles a bit it was a slight joke. "Gettin' roped into bed time stories. Chasin' afta them around the apartment once they can walk. Cause they gonna be hell on wheels at 'hat point." He wanted it to though.

He loved the thought so much having a kid. Having a kid with Casey. This small little thing they would take care of together. Love and rise protect from all they could. Late nights no longer because they wanted to hunt dragons, nah cause their kid can't sleep. The excitement of every first they have. Watching this small kid discover the world around them. Raph longed for it in truth. Worse? Raphael could so easily picture it all. Where their crib would go, how they would spoil this kid like crazy between them. Gender didn't matter they would learn hockey and how to throw a good five knuckle sub. Though before anything more could be said there was a sudden knock on the door. Damn Raph got so absorb in their moment he stopped listening out for anyone coming to the door. Looking back to it well now Raph was pissed off once again. Glaring out to the door for ruining their moment, Casey hummed before he got up and began to make way to it.

"Probably one of the kids,"

He watched as Casey rolled his shoulders to shrug them up, yeah made sense Uncle Casey always coming to their rescue. He thought to himself smiling again, they didn't even waste a second to answer that knock uh? Raph let his head rest to the back of the couch a moment sure he missed Casey warmth beside him in the moment. Watching Casey get up cause one of those kids needed him? Brought a different warmth. Paternal maybe? If they had a kid Casey would jump at any moment to help them too uh? Would be nice for one of the kids Casey calls his own was also Raph's. Tearing his gaze away from them as he moved to sit up now.

"Yanno they sometimes crash 'ere cause they get locked out."

A simple nod given before moving to his feet Raph was already eyeing out the nearest window, it wasn't the first time he needed to make him self scarce because one of Casey's kids needed to stay the night. He could over hear the conversation before wouldn't be a surprised if one of those kids who been out playing got locked out like Casey suggested. Eh it didn't bother Raph he got Casey pretty much any other time to himself. Sharing Casey was part of the deal when it came to dating them. Raph didn't see much point to stick around and wait as he made his way to the window working to push it open so he could slip out and head back to the lair when Casey's voice stopped him.

"Uh, Raph?"

Sure Casey had it known he was dating someone name Raphael, but clearly it wasn't one of his kids at the door, if he was calling out to him just now. "yeah?" he called back ears trained on Casey's voice at the moment so he could pick up on their tone. Was something wrong?

"We got a situation 'ere."

"What?" Letting the window slide back down and running back over towards the couch. Fingers flexing ready to grab at his sais if he needed only to freeze in place when Casey came over with a basket? The turtle crocked his head to the side and looked it over what was with the?

He paused and froze the second he heard it, a soft little coo. He eyes the baskets able to see small little hands lift up and move inside it Once closer Raph could see in it better, string awake rubbing at their face with little balled up fists. A thin layer of blond hair over her head peaking open her blue eyes seeming just as surprised as the pair of them were. Just eyeing the small little girl that had be left out in the cold. That did worry Raph sure humans were warm blooded but shes so small. Tiny lips looked a little blue even. Poor thing. He did finally tear his gaze away to share in Casey's expression. Twisted in worry and concern who would just leave a kid out on their own like that? When she starts to whine its not much of a surprise.

"I mean, it's a kid but...I don't think someone's comin' back for 'em; kids don't get abandoned with a note if there's somewhere for them t' call 'ome..."

"No duh genius." Raph pointed out before lifting a hand to rub at his forehead. "Wait a note?" Raph asked following his snarky remark. Raph eyeing said note he grabbed for that himself as he looked it over. There well wasn't much to it just like Casey had stated though it was clear whoever set the kid down at the door had no intention of coming back for them. From the corner of his eye he can see Casey set the basket down only to pull the bundle inside out, the second he seemed to have them in his hold she settled down and relaxed in Casey's arms. Raph looking more at her now letting into a frown, this poor kid was just abandoned and had no idea. Basically tossed aside, yeah that might be unfair of Raph to think in the moment. But he also didn't give a damn if that was unfair. This poor kid had their whole life put into the hands of fate. What if they weren't here? they could have freezed to death! What if someone else came across her! A million ideas crossed his mind ready to well not even Raph knew what he was gonna do or say when he finally looks back to Casey.

He relaxes when he sees the look on Casey's face just now, that soft set smile he wore when around his kids, or when they baby sat Ariel well even when they stole her from Donnie for their little game too. Casey holding this little bundle in his arms with the truth he didn't have to give this one back. Sure it was because there was no one waiting to take her back. Casey just got done telling Raph having a kid was something he wanted, Raph knew that for a good while Casey wasn't exactly secretive about that want and right now? it was like his wish was being answered. Raph just smiles a little bit at that expression Casey's holding towards the kid in his arms. Nah this kid wasn't abandoned. Raph knows he just knows what thought manged to work in that usual empty skull.

"Yanno, we did always wan' a kid."

Yeah, we. Its that we in the sentence that tugs at the turtle. Crumpling the note in his hand as he steps in closer looking down at the kid letting his head rest against Casey's arm. Those big wide blue eyes, reminded him of Casey's own. Blond hair like the sand of the beach, maybe it was just meant to be? He leaned in a bit trying to check and make sure she wasn't sick from being out in the cold when a little hand baps his eye he chuckles a bit. "uh us with a lil girl uh?" as he grabs at her little hand gently rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. Wide toothless smile warm like the sun. Fuck she got him too, lowering his head he lets his snot bump against her tiny tiny little nose. Fuck why are babies so small? it got to him every time he was near a baby. This was going to their baby though? Casey made the call right? Like Raph was going to disagree with a rash choice made in a split second. Slowly pulling away so he can look at Casey letting her small fingers try and curl around one of his large green ones.

"she gonna need a name ya know?" Summer.

He loved it. It was perfect, she reminded him of everything about summer. Sandy beaches, ocean blue eyes, the season Casey loved and warmth.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗨𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 || dark!jan (the edukators/die fetten Jahre sind vorbei) x reader

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 | in scoping out his next target, jan hadn't realised that you wouldn't be joining your family on their next vacation; in choosing to stay home, you hadn't realised what you were in for.

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 | 4.3k

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 | smut (noncon, with fingering and penetrative sex), innocence kink, virginity loss/first time, brief exhibitionism, degradation, daddy kink, spitting (in mouth and on pussy), breaking and entering/home invasion, touch of misogyny kink, slight objectification kink (petnames like babydoll/dolly being 99% of this), slight bleeding (from sex specifically), death mention (no threats, just the fear of threats if that makes sense?)

𝗔/𝗡 | you don't need to have seen the movie to understand this fic, as long as you know that jan and his friends break into rich people's houses as part of their anti-capitalist rebellion. note that the vast majority of dialogue is written in english for simplicity, but that these conversations would actually take place fully in german.

this is a DARK fic, if you hit 'keep reading' I don't wanna hear you upset about content listed clearly in the warnings section

It’s probably normal to hear a bump in the night, to wake up and be a little freaked out, but to ultimately just stay in bed and not do anything about it. At first you were sure you were sure it was nothing, though your gut told you otherwise; then, as you heard more and more you spent quite some time convincing yourself that it was just pipes creaking or the foundation settling. But the thing about pipes and foundations is they don’t speak German.

“Hier entlang, hier entlang,” someone whispered, and footsteps shifted all along the lower floor.

Maybe you were still asleep, and this was just a strange dream, a terrifying dream. You pulled the blanket up over your head and prayed to wake up, but the denial turned to terror when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

You jumped out of bed, but it was too late to go out your bedroom door— you could hear them walking and whispering outside. Your bathroom had a small window, but even if you managed to fit through it you’d be on the second story with no way to ropel down. Maybe in your mind you could be some daring adventurer with the perfect plan to escape, or with the skills to defend yourself with something random you could grab, but you knew better than to really think you could do anything but hide.

As the footsteps and voices got louder, your eyes frantically searched the room and finally landed on the large upright dresser— maybe it was a little obvious, but it had a handy little feature that made it lock from the inside. It had come in handy for a decade of hide-and-seek, and now it would hopefully serve you one last time.

With not a second to spare, you ran over and grabbed the golden handles, swinging the doors open but being careful to shut them quietly after you’d stepped inside and made room for yourself among the coats and dresses. You searched for the lock in the pitch darkness, only able to find it because it was right above the keyhole that glowed from the dim light outside. Just as you turned the knob and heard the metal lock slide inside the wooden door, you heard your bedroom door open.

Someone walked around your room briefly, you even heard them pick something up and set it down— probably your bedside lamp, based on where it was coming from, but you obviously couldn’t be sure and frankly didn’t care that much. Footsteps approached the dresser and you saw the keyhole light up as a flashlight passed over it.

“Let’s take all the clothes and put them in the fireplace,” a voice in the room announced. “We won’t actually light the fireplace, but it sends a message.”

You covered your mouth with your hand to try to keep quiet when the doors shook briefly from an attempt to open them.

“Fuck, it’s locked.”

“Here, you go on to the next room, I’ll pick it,” a second voice decided, and you heard more footsteps as someone else approached the armoire. “Look how fancy the dresser is, they’ve probably got furs in here too— god knows people living in a house like this can’t miss an opportunity to destroy the environment.”

You heard something jiggle inside the keyhole, a clicking noise that went on for just a few moments before you heard the metal slide inside the wood again and the doors slowly opened.

A man, dressed in black and holding a flashlight in his gloved hands, stared at you from behind a mask that left only his brown eyes visible. You both stood still, staring at each other, until he did exactly the last thing you expected: he lifted the mask up to his forehead and showed you his face.

He was a lot younger than you would’ve expected, though he had the scruffy beard of a guy trying to look older; his teeth were slightly crooked when he smiled at you, and when he raised a brow while he gave you a quick look-over, you noticed the way they almost connected in the middle.

Under his gaze, you suddenly felt very aware of how little your lacy, baby pink nightgown protected you from the chilling night air.

"Well, what's this?" he asked coyly as he watched you shiver. "Guess these capitalist pigs left one of their little piglets behind." He put on a cooing sort of voice as he addressed you directly: "Did mummy and daddy leave you all alone while they went on holiday?"

He stepped closer even as you tried to shrink away, examining you carefully.

“Get out of there, silly, what are you hiding for? I’m not gonna hurt you,” he assured, not that you found it especially comforting. When you didn’t step out of your own accord, he grabbed your arm and roughly yanked you forward; he slammed the dresser doors behind you, and you whimpered in fear as he pinned you down against them by each arm. "Shh, hey, don't worry— I'm here to take care of you, you can call me daddy instead until your heartless banker father gets back. Go ahead, tell me what's wrong."

"I—"

"Ah ah," he tutted with a mix of bemusement and disappointment, "I already told you how to address me."

You shuddered but finally responded, "Daddy, I'm scared."

He gave you a demeaning little pout, but you continued.

"Some men broke in and I'm alone and… and I don't know if they want to hurt me."

"No, baby, they don't want to hurt you," he promised with a gentle smile, but it turned horrifically sinister as he leaned in to add with a whisper: "but we will if we have to."

You swallowed thickly, your gut twisting when you felt him breathe out against your neck.

"So you're gonna be a good girl, right?"

You nodded quickly, turning away when he leaned in closer, looking down at you with darkened eyes and running the fingers of his black gloves over the neckline of your pyjamas.

“You were just waiting for me, huh? All tucked in in your cute little nightgown, dressed up like a doll,” he grinned. “I bet you want daddy to play with you, hm?”

He laughed cruelly when you shook your head, fighting harder to get away again as he squeezed your arms tight enough to leave marks where his fingers had been.

“Wanna play, little dolly?” he continued, pressing his body into yours and roughly shoving his leg between your thighs. “I know you do… c'mon and give me a kiss," he requested.

“N-no,” you stammered, but he grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand and forced you to look ahead, slamming his lips onto yours and ignoring your muffled protests. When he pinched your side you gasped instinctively, and he shoved his tongue inside your mouth roughly— but that only lasted for a moment, before you found renewed strength and managed to shove him back. It wasn’t far enough to free yourself, but enough to get a break from the oppressive kiss.

“Aw, don’t be mean,” he pouted, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. “You said you’d be good for me, remember?”

“Just stop, please,” you whined, gasping before you could stop yourself when he rubbed his thigh up against you— hitting right on your clit which throbbed in spite of everything. Somehow the fear made you more sensitive, or at least something had because you’d never felt quite like this before.

“See? You’re all worked up,” he explained, “I’m gonna help you.”

This time when he leaned in he started to kiss and suck at your neck instead, starting right beneath your ear and moving down slowly until his tongue laved over the crook where your shoulder began. As much as you hated it, it made arousal pulse between your legs where his thigh continued to push hard on you.

When he moved even closer, you could feel his erection against your hip; you didn’t even realise that you’d let out a gasp until you felt him smile against your neck. “Oh, babydoll… you want daddy’s cock inside you, I can tell.”

“N-no, I don’t— just stop,” you begged.

“If only it were so easy, to just ask someone to stop,” he mused. “You know how many times we asked people like your father to stop before they fucked us? You know how far that gets us? You don’t just get to ask nicely, you have to fight for it…”

He chuckled as you writhed in his embrace.

“But you’re too weak to fight, poor thing.”

"Please, I'm not a part of whatever you’re talking about,” you tried to explain, “I don't know much about what Papa does at work—"

"That's your problem, baby, you're blissfully ignorant! Not all of us have that luxury. But the good news is, I'm here to educate you." He pushed up even closer to you, speaking lowly right into your ear with rage starting to bubble up in his voice. "Your father is a piece of scum who feeds on the working class and then robs them blind. You live like this, unquestioningly, and the rest of Germany suffers. Stuck-up bitch like you wouldn't even notice me if you saw me on the street, would you? Wouldn't even give me the time of day, but now you're at my mercy. That’s what you people need to learn: that you’re not gonna be on top forever.”

Suddenly you felt his hand cup your sex through your nightgown, and you choked on your gasp. “No—!” you started to shout, but his right hand covered your mouth as the left hastily pulled your pyjamas up and reached under them.

“Stop fucking squirming,” he grunted as he reached between your kicking legs and slid quickly up your thigh. “Mm, bet you’re hiding a pretty little cunt under this nightgown— hold still, baby, you’re gonna like this.”

Finally maneuvring his way into your panties, he abruptly shoved two gloved fingers inside of you, watching closely as you scrunched your face up tight in discomfort. He thrusted and twisted them around for a bit, carelessly stretching you open as you tried desperately to squirm away; it stung a bit, and the leather of the gloves was cool and awkwardly firm against your walls. For some reason, when he dropped his free hand from your face, you didn’t try to scream again— maybe because you knew no one who cared could hear you— and you just panted heavily instead.

As quickly as he’d pushed them in he pulled them out, bringing the glove up to his mouth to take it off with his teeth with a little growl before rubbing his bare hand over your pussy again. You whimpered when he slid his fingers inside you again, this time feeling the texture of his skin as he curled the pads of his fingers right against your spot. “Yeah?” he mumbled his taunt around the leather between his teeth before spitting the glove out onto the floor. “Fuck, so warm… you’re so wet already, dolly, has nobody been giving this pussy any attention?”

He stopped moving his fingers inside you to pull out and give your clit a few slaps, licking his lips when you cried out from the sharp sensation.

“Huh?” he reminded you to answer when you never gave a response.

“N-no,” you shook your head, finally, and he smiled like he was proud of himself.

“Yeah? You’re not a virgin, are you?”

You only looked down at the floor, blinking a few times as you focused on the teal carpet, and heard him laugh darkly.

“Oh, dolly, I might break you,” he warned roughly as he pushed your gown up to your waist, ignoring your sobbed pleas for him to stop. “We don’t usually take anything from the people we visit, but if I take your virginity maybe your people will finally get the message.”

“Please— you don’t have to do that,” you stammered, rushing through whatever you could think of to make him change his mind, “I won’t tell anyone you were here. You can have whatever you want, if I call them they can send you money—”

“You aren’t even fucking listening to me, we don’t want your expensive bullshit and we don’t want your dirty fucking money!” he corrected sternly, clutching your sleeves tighter and shaking you slightly with the intensity of his movements. “We just want you to be afraid, because the revolution is coming.”

But you were afraid of something much more imminent than a revolution.

“Get on the fucking bed,” he demanded, though you couldn’t do much else considering he was already roughly tossing you onto it, climbing on top of you and pinning you down when you started to crawl back instinctively. With his legs resting on yours and keeping you (somewhat) still, he only needed one hand to grab your shoulders while the other rushed to open his jeans.

Your eyes got a little wide when you saw his cock— before that, it was almost like some part of you didn’t really think he’d go through with his, but now you could see clearly that he was hard and ready… and big enough to make you question how that thing was even supposed to fit inside you.

He tore through your panties like they were paper; he lifted and spread your legs as he sat between them and, much to your humiliation, just stared down at your pussy for a moment. You’d never felt so exposed and it made you feel worse than ever. “Knew you’d have a pretty cunt,” he announced smugly, “can’t wait to see it all stretched out and covered in my come— I’m gonna ruin you, babydoll.”

You weakly struggled as he held your hips down with one hand and haphazardly stroked his cock a few times with the other, rubbing himself over your opening before pulling his hips back to spit right onto your clit. After spreading the improvised lubrication around with his head for a moment, he pushed down on it with his thumb to line up with your hole and, without any further warning, slid inside in one motion.

You bit down on your lip hard, and even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the sting; it felt like he was ripping you open, not to mention going so deep that you could feel him in your stomach.

He groaned loudly, head falling back for a moment as he started to thrust into you. “Fuck, I can tell you’re a virgin— it must be hurting you, huh?”

But the question was a bit redundant, since tears had already begun to stream down your temples and your fingers were clutching tightly onto the sheets beneath you; if they were any less expensive, they probably would’ve ripped.

“Maybe a little pain will be good for you,” he decided with a smirk, “I think a spoiled brat like you has been spared the rod a few too many times.”

It was definitely more than a ‘little’ pain, and it only seemed to sting more each time he pulled back and pushed in again— he wasn’t going very fast, yet, so that was one thing you could almost be thankful for. That said, he wasn’t very gentle either.

He hastily reached up under your nightgown to grope your breasts, quickly moving from one to the other as he squeezed them just a bit too hard. “You like how daddy plays with your tits, don’t you?” he grunted. “Say, ‘yes daddy.’”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you mumbled awkwardly; maybe being embarrassed to say that was superfluous considering everything else happening right now, but your face got warmer regardless.

A whimper almost caught in your throat when he pinched your hardened nipples, but it broke through when he seemingly-randomly gave a spank to your inner thigh.

He looked down at where your bodies were joined, where he was stretching you out with steady pumps of his cock that filled you to the brim, before reaching up to quickly pull his black sweater off over his head— a t-shirt underneath came off with it as his chest was exposed. He wasn’t unreasonably pale but he clearly wasn’t the type to get a ton of sun, and he had a thin scattering of dirty-blonde hair over some of it. It was sort of embarrassing, now, seeing how thin he was and yet he was still so much stronger than you.

"You're getting so wet, babydoll, look— you're making a mess on these expensive sheets," he grinned. And he wasn't lying; the sting of the stretch had slowly faded, replaced with a friction you actually couldn't help but enjoy. Each time he moved, he seemed to slide right over a spot that made you tighten up your legs so they wouldn't shake.

But, apparently, there was still plenty left that he could do to hurt you.

You cried out, so louder it echoed across the room, when he suddenly thrust into you hard and deep, hitting the very end of you as your body involuntarily jolted— he clapped his hand down over your mouth instantly, muffling your cries to near-silence as he set a punishingly fast pace out of nowhere. You couldn’t turn your head when you heard your bedroom door open, but you could glance to the side and see another burglar appear in the doorway, staring forward at the scene in front of him.

A new sense of shame burned inside you for being seen in such a way; oddly, it came with guilt, too, as if you were doing something wrong yourself, when really it was just something wrong being done to you. The man on top of you didn’t seem to feel much of either, though: he didn’t even slow down.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?" the other man asked his partner, face still hidden but his voice a mixture of bewildered and disgusted. "This isn't how we roll."

"Fuck off, I'm almost done," your attacker scoffed. You tried to use the distraction to fight him again— you swung your arms to try to scratch his face or push him away, but without even hesitating he simply stopped covering your mouth to pin your wrists at either side of your head.

"Is this really what you think the revolution is about?" the man in the door sneered. "Or does that even matter to you when you think you might get some ass? Jesus, I always knew you were a creep but this is…" he trailed off.

"Maybe you should take a turn with her, might fix your attitude," the man on top of you suggested. "She's real tight— trust me, you'll feel better."

"I promise that raping that girl isn't gonna make me feel better, Jan," he frowned.

"Fine, then just go so I can finish and I'll meet you guys in the yard," Jan— apparently that was his name— instructed.

"Don't go," you begged the man in the door, seeing the concern on his face— you could tell he wanted to stop Jan, maybe if you asked him to, he would.

"Shut up, bitch," Jan growled, correcting you with a slap to the face.

The man in the doorway just shook his head and sighed, stepping back into the hall and shutting the door behind him. You cried harder, more sure than ever that Jan was right when he said you were at his mercy; and he didn’t seem to have much.

He fucked you rough and fast, recklessly chasing his own pleasure with no regard for yours. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel any pleasure, though… it was building, in fact, sort of like when you touched yourself but so much stronger, and deeper, and threatening to overflow at any moment. “Oh fuck, you’re close,” he noticed with a tilted grin, “you love it so fucking much, huh? Wanna cream on daddy’s cock?”

You shook your head but he slapped you again, spinning your face to the side as he held both your wrists above your head in one hand and gripped your jaw with the other.

“Stop lying,” he growled, “I can feel it, I can feel your cunt getting tighter… you’re gonna come so fucking hard for me, aren’t you, babydoll? God, what a nasty fucking whore you are…”

He held your face to look straight ahead, up at where he hovered above you and bared his teeth in a snarl, before forcing your mouth open and spitting into it. You grimaced and tried even harder to squirm away but he quickly clamped his hand down over your nose and mouth so you couldn’t try to spit it back out again.

“C’mon, swallow it,” he instructed roughly, voice a bit strained from the force it took to hold you down. You could hardly breathe with his hand this way, and when you tilted your head back to try to get away from it, you accidentally swallowed his spit with a disgusted, muffled grunt. “There you go, good girl,” he purred as he watched your throat bob a bit involuntarily, “that’s it, I know you wanna come— say it! Say ‘daddy I wanna come.’”

He let go of your mouth and slapped you again before you even had a chance to hesitate. “D-daddy,” you whined, “I… I—”

“It’s not that fucking hard,” he hissed, “just say it, you dumb fucking slut!”

One more slap was apparently all you needed to just choke it out: “I wanna come, daddy!” you cried, back starting to arch as the pressure of holding back your release became too much to bear.

“Then fucking come,” he demanded, “come for me, baby, right fucking now.”

You tried to hold out just a moment longer, just to spite him, just so you wouldn’t obey him so easily… but it only took one rough thrust right into the end of you to make it all spill over. You came with a sob, shaking and jerking beneath him for a moment before a warmth spread through you; it started right where he filled you and spread everywhere until your mind was all foggy and your fingers started to go numb— or maybe that was just because of him pinning you down at the wrists.

Much to your disgust, you could hear how wet you had become with every stroke inside you, a sickening squelching noise that made him laugh as your face tingled with numbness and burned with shame all at once. “Oh fuck, that’s it,” he praised, “naughty little dolly, making a mess on daddy’s cock with that dirty fucking cunt of yours… I’m gonna cover it in my come, are you ready, baby? Ask daddy to come on your pussy, don’t make me hit you again.”

“Daddy, please,” you mumbled quietly, “come on my pussy…”

“I can’t hear you, babydoll, you need to speak up,” he mocked.

And you were just so exhausted and overwhelmed and his thrusts inside your sensitive walls were starting to get painful again— that was why you really meant it when you sobbed through your begging: “Please, daddy, come on my pussy!”

With one more panted moan he pulled out and only had to give his cock one blur of a stroke before white, warm come began to paint over your sore opening, your swollen clit, your bruised inner thighs. “Fuuucckkk…” he groaned under his breath as he watched himself coat you, and you caught a tinge of pink from your blood on his cock and hand as he slowed down to a stop. "Sheiße," he sighed, letting go of your wrists to sit up and close his eyes for a moment before looking down again at where you were limp and splayed out on your bed beneath him. “See? I’m getting reckless, I really shouldn’t be leaving evidence…”

Even without that, you knew his name and face, but apparently he was focusing on the copious amounts of DNA he’d just left on you.

“I suppose it won’t be a problem, because you’re not going to tell anyone,” he posited, leaning down slightly to hover over you as you swallowed around the rock that had suddenly formed in your throat. “You know how I know you won’t?”

You weakly shook your head, already terrified to imagine what the answer to that question was going to be. Of course, your first assumption was that he was going to kill you, or threaten to do so if you involved the police. He knew where you lived, he could threaten your family, too: the thought made your skin crawl as he leaned down further to whisper right against your ear as you instinctively turned your face away from him.

“Because if you tell someone that I raped you,” he finally continued, “then you’ll also have to tell them that you liked it.”

Speaking right against your ear, it took him no effort at all to stick his tongue out and lick you right on it, making you squeal with fear and disgust.

He quickly hopped off the bed and recollected himself, stuffing his softening and blood-stained cock back into his pants before gathering his discarded clothes from the floor. "Your folks won't be home for two more nights, right? I should come visit you again," he winked when he spared a glance at you. “Now get some rest, baby, you deserve it. Don’t worry, I’ll lock the front door behind me when we leave… wouldn’t want anybody unsavory getting in, now would we?”

[make-me-imagine]

Follower-ship request for make-me-imagine

Hey, can I ask for your 8k followers Ship please? I'd like to request the fandoms 9-1-1 and Charlie Hunnam's characters if that's okay with you? My gender preference are either male or female (I'm bi! Just to be specific here). Some info about me: I'm 21, I'm introverted and I get shy around new people. I like to read and write. I mostly draw as an hobby but I'm not serious about it at the moment, I gravitate more towards writing things based on media I'm watching, be it movies or tv series or books. I'd like to become an author in the future and publish my work. Things I find attractive in a partner most definitely emotional intelligence. The ability to have deep conversations about our future, things we've experienced and what we expect of ourselves is important to me. Dwelling into what drives us, our dreams, and general philosophy is important to me. I want someone I can feel safe expressing myself around, someone who wouldn't mind listening to me talking about my favorite bands and favorite fictional characters, read books with me. I don't know how to cook, so maybe knowledge around the kitchen would be preferable? Lol. I prefer people who are taller than me. My turn offs are rude people with no sense of their surroundings, inconsiderate of others. Stuff like that.

I'd like a drabble for the prompt 'Falling asleep with your head in their lap/on their shoulder.' with my 9-1-1 ship, and relationship headcanons for my Charlie Hunnam's characters ship. I hope that this is okay!

Hope you like them!~

Ships are under the cut! :)

9-1-1 Ship:

I know you wanted Lou, but I honestly ship you more with Buck, sorry! I just think Buck has more of that emotional loving side that you deserve (not that Lou doesn't but you know what I mean lol). Plus Buck is always down for deep meaningful conversation. He doesn't know how to cook very well, but once you moved in with each other, he learned your favorite dishes so he would make them for you.

Runner Up: Definitely Lou

'Falling Asleep'

Exhaustion was heavy in the air as you, Buck and Chimney sat in the fire engine. Chimney was already fast asleep, and you were struggling to keep your eyes open.

Your body swayed with every turn and bump, and you hoped you'd be able to make it to the fire station before loosing all your energy entirely.

But before you realized, the tiredness was taking over as your eyes slowly began to shut as your body went limp. You slowly fell sideways, your head landing on the shoulder of Buck.

Buck was staring down at his phone, his own eyes burning from sleepiness. Your long shift was finally over, and he couldn't wait to slip into bed.

Feeling something hit his shoulder, he looked over, seeing you leaning against him, your head bouncing lightly on his shoulder. Your eyes were tightly shut, fast asleep.

Buck looked at you as a smile crossed his face. You looked exhausted, yet content. Grabbing his fire-coat that he had sitting by his feet, he carefully moved as to not wake yo.

Setting the coat on your legs to keep you warm, he gently caressed your cheek with his fingers. He watched you for a few more moments, cherishing how you used him as a pillow. He could definitley get used to this.

He knew he'd have to wake you up once you reached the station, but until then, he would cherish this. Leaning back, and gently setting his own head against yours, he closed his eyes and relaxed.

--------------------------

Charlie Hunnam:

Now, in this case, I do ship you with who you hoped lol. Arthur! He is drawn to people a little less extroverted and chaotic than he is. He finds you comforting and sees you as his safe place and home.

Runner Up: William 'Ironhead' Miller

Headcanons:

Arthur loves reading the stories you write (if you allow him to read them that is). He adores your style, and always encourages you to write more, and is quite good at helping you with your muse.

He is also a lover of anything you draw. If anyone asks him about his partner, he often refers to you as an artist, both in written word and sketching.

Though Arthur comes off as a bot of a dorky non-serious type, he has a more intellectual side than many are aware of. The two of you can sit and talk for hours about anything and everything, and never tire of it.

I think Arthur is secretly very good at cooking, and loves to cook dinner for the two of you.

When Arthur knows you've had a long day, he will grab one of your favorite books and read it allowed to help you relax. He likes to go into character as well, often creating voices for each character. Making you laugh is one of his favorite things, and his best achievement.

[isthisselfcare]

the way you worked the universes colliding into your Dramione is CHEF’S KISS. i mean everything else is too but the sequence of the rose garden, then samhain, THEN the very last lines… BEAUTIFUL.

Thank you! Yes, and collisions are an ongoing issue – bumping into each other, falling into wells, walking into one another, Apparating into each other, getting thrown together in Floos. I haven’t been at my most subtle with this theme have I? Haha

Hi! Is DMATMOOBIL your first story? If not where can I read others?! I need more!!!

Hiya! No, it is not my first story. I’m keeping the isthisselfcare pseud separate from my other works for various reasons. I will post a note here or over at Instagram if I do decide to link other (new) works with this identity, however. Genuinely grateful for the interest, thank you x

I have some questions if you don't mind answering them. I don't expect you to, of course, just putting them out here.😁

1) in your headcanon, do Hermione and Draco have kidlets?

2) does Draco eventually learn how to drive? The image of him driving the CRKSHNKS car fills me with mirth;

3) does the rich collector find out what Hermione did? I mean, I see why he shouldn't, but ultimately he inadvertently contributed to a revolutionary breakthrough. Surely that'd appease his huge ego, I feel like.

4) Does Hermione try to restore her parents' memories?

5) do you work in STEM? Your knowledge of biology and maths seems extensive.

These are wonderful questions. 

1) Draco’s musings about the future in the final chapter (orphans and instilling moral fibres, or becoming gentlemen thieves, etc.) are about as far as I got. The story ended where it ended in my head, so you are free to imagine!

2) I hadn’t thought about the driving, but I did have a bit that didn’t make the final cut, where Hermione arranged flying lessons for him (for aeroplanes, I mean, so he could really be a pilot)

3) Ohh, I had plans for the collector, but I had to be fairly ruthless with some plot threads as we started to edge towards the 200k mark. I had an idea that he knew what they were up to the whole time, that he actually speaks Mermish and corrects Hermione-Draco on the real meaning of Krrrotche, and that he might’ve encountered them later and tapped his nose and said, I know what you did. Ultimately those things (him knowing, them getting caught) didn’t advance the plot, so they were pruned 

4) I think the subtext during the garden discussion with Draco is that she has already tried and has come to terms with the loss (insofar as one can). But! Perhaps there will be further developments in magical brain and mind health and new memory recovery treatments will be discovered!

5) I don’t talk much about myself in real life as the internet has made things eerily easy to triangulate, but thank you!

I hope you’re happy, Glurkk is part of my day to day vocab now

Thrilled to bits honestly xx 

Re: Hermione’s characterisation

Weeks ago I had a lovely anon ask about Hermione’s characterisation and its proximity to canon and I cannot, for the life of me, find that ask in my inbox. So, dear anon, here is my belated answer, if you ever come back and see it, and I am sorry that I am too inept to maintain control of my inbox(1)

Some equally inept thoughts on Hermione in the Mortifying Ordeal follow. At this juncture in my fanficcing, I view canon as a sort of buffet from which I choose what I like, or as a springboard to reach new and interesting places. In any case, writing a character after a 15 year time-jump, as I did in Mortifying, is an exercise à l'aveuglette. None of us know exactly what Hermione would have grown to be, but we all have our guesses and pet theories. I wanted to preserve H’s positive qualities (her pragmatism, intellect, moral compass, and, more prosaically, her useful role as Exposition Queen) and negative ones (vindictiveness, cynicism, willingness to break the law when it suits her idea of the greater good, pedantry) – all modulated, of course, by the rom-com genre. 

But beyond those qualities, the Mortifying Ordeal Hermione is inspired by many brilliant women I have worked with and admired – colleagues, friends, mentors, all stretched too thin, keeping it together how they can, attempting self care where able, failing in other ways. You may have met parts of this Hermione if you have worked with high-achievers, or are one yourself, particularly in academia or health care. Canon accuracy was not necessarily the objective (indeed, I am not certain that it is possible after a time-jump this long), but if she matched your vision of Possible Hermiones, I’m pleased!

I hope you see this one day, anon, and thank you for your kind words, and forgive me for losing your note xx

(1) inept at inbox management amongst other things; today I walked into the men’s toilet at a railway station