#-does best and that's just sticking by her side until shes done crying all of her tears

[h20milk]

it was lightly raining all the trains shuttled out on Concourse all the dogs seemed to call her name.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Thin Lizzie: Part Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, feeling broken and utterly helpless to the point of depression

Summary: What you think is a routine ghost case turns out to be much more. Amara is back and she is planning something but you're not sure what it is. You know one thing for sure: you might be in danger and are at risk of becoming the one thing you fear: the Scarlet Witch.

Season Eleven Masterlist

Author’s Note: For the sake of this rewrite, we're all going to pretend that the Lizzie Borden House is located in St. Louis.

x

Dean steps off to the side and calls his brother, leaving you alone to drown in your own thoughts. He will comfort you later but right now, Sam deserves to know what is going on here.

"Wait? Amara was here? How?" Sam asks when he hears what Dean has to say.

"I don't know but apparently, she's twelve."

"How is that even possible?"

"It ain't Wheaties she's eating, I can tell you that much," Dean scoffs.

"Meaning?"

"Len ain't doing so hot. I think Amara sucked out his soul. Y/N is freaking out because if she can suck out Len's soul, she can suck out Y/N's soul. All that fear of becoming the Scarlet Witch is back now."

"We should meet up. I'll head to Len's house. Someone's gotta tell him what's really going on."

"Yeah." Dean hangs up the phone and turns to Len. "Len, we're going to go outside and have a little chat. My partner is coming over here. Hang tight, okay?"

"Okay."

Dean takes you outside his house and waits there for Sam to come. Now that you're out of Len's earshot, you freak out to the max.

"She's gonna suck my soul out. What if that's what she needs from me? What if she doesn't want to possess me but wants my soul instead? She wants my magic and my magic is tied to my soul. God, I'm going to become like her, aren't I?" you cry.

"Y/N, calm down. You're not going to lose your soul."

"How do you know that? Please, Dean, do you know for one hundred percent certainty that she won't do that?" Dean doesn't have an answer for that. "See? What if I hurt our children?"

"Okay, listen to me." Dean grabs your shoulders and forces you to look at him. "You are not going to turn back into the Scarlet Witch. I won't let that happen. You gotta tell yourself that because you are my wife. I couldn't protect you from it then, but I can damn well do it now, okay?"

"Okay," you whisper.

"I need you to say it."

"I won't turn back into her."

"Say it like you mean it."

"I won't turn into her," you say with more confidence.

Dean pulls you in and kisses you. The kiss is short-lived when Sam approaches you two from the side.

"So, Amara's growing like a radioactive weed?" Sam asks when he gets to your side.

"Yeah, by stuffing her face with souls."

"Does that mean she's getting more power? For what?"

"I don't know. That tsunami's gonna hit us sooner or later. We'll deal with what we can deal with like all these spent shells Amara's leaving behind."

"You don't think Len's our Lizzie Borden, do you?"

"No, I don't think so. Except for seeing him at the B&B, he's been here all night. So, we can't kill him because he hasn't done anything yet."

"Dean, we don't want to kill him. We want to save people. Remember?"

Dean snaps his fingers and remembers their conversation from months prior.

"Right. The new rules. My question is why hasn't he offed anybody? I mean, it took Jenna all of walking downstairs to slit her grandmother's throat."

"I don't know. Maybe not everybody that gets their soul sucked out turns into a killer."

It'd be nice if I was one of those people.

"Or maybe he just hasn't got around to it yet." Sam shrugs in response. "I think the best thing is we stick close until we figure out how to help him out. Which starts with you telling him he's got no soul."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Why me?"

"Look at Y/N." You're almost in tears at the thought of Amara sucking your soul out. "She clearly can't do it and the only other person who has been soulless is you. You speak the language. He doesn't even know he's been hoovered yet."

"Okay, but you two have a better relationship with him than I do."

"You're better with the whole sensitive verbal message thing."

"There is no sensitive way to tell somebody their soul's been sucked out by a prehistoric tween! Even if Len does believe us, is that supposed to make him feel better?"

"Fine. He probably couldn't handle the truth right now anyway. He's a little fragile right now." Dean groans and rolls his neck to crack it. "Looks like we're babysitting a thirty-year-old man."

"There may be someone else Amara got to as well. The murders started right around the time Len saw Amara, right? Well, the wife of the last victim, Dawn Pensky, had this bizarre reaction to hearing her husband had died like she couldn't care less. It was kind of the way I felt the whole time I was soulless."

"Oh, yeah. You were one chilly droid."

You look down and try not to think how you'd rather be swallowed up by the Earth than be here. Anywhere Amara is, you don't want to be. You know what she's like. You had her inside your head for years. She tormented you and made you fear for your life and your children's lives. She is the reason you terminated your first pregnancy. She's not a good person.

"Anyways, the detective thinks she's in shock, but I think it may be that Mom lost her soul and picked up an axe."

Sam and Dean don't want Len going off the rails so they decide to bring him along when you go to question Dawn the next day, Len is coming with. You're stuck in the back seat with him while Dean is behind the wheel and Sam is knocking on Dawn's front door. No one answers the door and he looks back at the car where Dean puts his hands up as if he's impatient. Sam shakes his head and takes out his phone to call Dawn's babysitter.

"Hello?"

"Sydney, this is Agent Collins. I'm trying to find Mrs. Pensky. Do you have any idea where she might be?"

"Um, no. She, um, didn't mention anything. Dawn didn't want me to come over today."

"Sydney. You are a part of a Federal murder investigation. You do not want to hold anything back from us."

"Okay," she sighs. "There might be one place where she might be. Dawn has a friend, Nate. A special friend. Look, I'm not trying to get her in trouble."

"Do you have an address?"

She sends Sam the address who then gives it to Dean. The second you leave Dawn's driveway, Len starts babbling on about how he used to love so many things but doesn't care for them anymore. If he continues to talk, you're going to get a headache...

"Kitten videos, chicken and waffles, and eucalyptus scent. I don't care for it anymore. I used to swoon for dark, curly hair. Now, not so much. Do you think I had a stroke? Or maybe it's a brain tumor. What's really freaky is all the stuff that used to make my skin crawl now seems... eh."

Okay, maybe you're already here. Dean looks at his brother and mouths something to him but you're not able to understand it.

"I couldn't shake a guy's hand before. God, that wetness. Now, I could lick the sweat off a stranger's--"

You slam your hand on the back of the front seat and turn to Len with a glare.

"Shut the fuck up. Seriously. You're giving me a fucking headache."

Len frowns but does as he's told. He stays silent for all of two seconds before opening his big mouth.

"I'm serious. I feel weird, man."

You roll your eyes and get out of the car.

"Weird, how?" Sam asks.

"Like, something's hatching inside of me. Something dark... with wings." Sam and Dean look at each other knowingly and Len picks up on it. "What is it?

"Nothing."

"You looked at Sam like you guys know what's wrong with me!" Dean gets out of the car and Len slides to the end of the seat to look out the open window. Dean whips out a pair of handcuffs and locks it on his wrist. He clips the other side to the handle of the back door from the outside so Len can't go anywhere. "Hey!"

"You don't have a soul, alright? Amara sucked it out," Dean blurts.

"What?!"

"Dean!" Both brothers look at each other over the top of the car. "You wanna be a little more blunt?"

"How is that even possible?" Len asks.

"Look, the handcuffs are just so you don't get in trouble. We'll be back and then we'll figure out what to do with you."

"How do I get my soul back?"

"You don't."

Len opens his mouth to respond but nothing comes out. He leans back in his seat with a slight sigh.

"It feels good to finally know."

x

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[cutemothman]

I need to talk about Scully in season 8.

Her best friend has just been abducted and the search for him is being treated like a manhunt. Like he's a criminal. After all she's done to stick up for him, she has to watch as his name gets dragged through the mud over and over again. He's a joke to everyone. Despite the fact that he's brilliant and loyal and has the biggest heart, they still see him as a raving lunatic who's obsessed with aliens and ghosts and cryptids. It's even suggested that he staged his abduction because he knew he was dying and wanted to go out with a bang. But that's not Mulder and she knows that. She's not even put in charge of the taskforce to find him, even though she's the person who has the best chance of finding him because anyone else is going to go looking in the wrong places. They can't find him because they don't know him like she does. The power is completely wrenched away from her.

And at the exact same time Mulder goes missing, she finds out she's pregnant. At the end of Requiem, you can see all the emotions she's feeling. Fear because Mulder's gone, confusion because she thought that she was infertile, and hope. So much hope. Gillian does a fantastic job in this scene. She's crying and she's scared but you can tell she wants to be happy about this. It's what she's always wanted. To be a mother. And she knows it's Mulder's baby. And it's so fucking unfair. She got what she hoped and prayed for. After all she's been through. After discovering Emily and having to watch her die. Just as this dream comes true for her the love of her life is ripped away from her.

And she's alone. Without the person that's been by her side for 7 years. I wrote in a fic once that Scully and Mulder are like two bonded shelter cats that can't be separated. She's not used to him not being in her life. Thank god she still has Skinner who always has her back (I get super emotional thinking about how he didn't even entertain Alex's ridiculous request to take out Scully's baby in exchange for a vaccine for Mulder). And despite a rocky beginning with Doggett, he's more than proven himself to her. But none of that matters because she doesn't have Mulder. The person who understands her better than anyone. And because of all the things she's seen, everything she's been through since they first went to Bellefleur, she can't deny the existence of all the improbable things that he's has been showing her all these years. Scully loves Mulder so much that she becomes him. When she's out on cases with Doggett, she assumes the role of believer as a foil to Doggett's realism. She knows how badly Mulder was treated, but now she has to experience that firsthand. Stepping into his shoes, she has to listen to people calling her crazy just like they did to Mulder all those years.

When they find Mulder's body, Doggett literally has to drag her off of his corpse.

Beside Mulder's grave, Scully comments to Skinner how it doesn't feel real that she's standing there. They've had a lot of close calls over the years, but they've always ended up okay. No matter how scraped and bruised and bloodied they always managed to get out alive. Until one of them didn't. He was the last one, she says. His father, his mother, his sister, and now him. In a beautiful moment, Skinner points out that he wasn't the last in reference to her baby (god, I love Skinner).

It's real this time. He's really gone. No matter how much she wishes that she'll see him walk through the door of his office or hear his voice when she picks up the phone he's gone and it's real and he's not coming back.

We as the audience don't get to see what those three months were like when she believed that he was dead, but they must have been absolute hell. She has to grieve him. Knowing that their child will never meet their father. She got her miracle but at what cost? She has to think about how she can move forward. How she can pick up the pieces and continue that work that he started, because if she doesn't, then what the hell was it all even for?

Three months isn't nearly enough time to even scratch the surface of her grief but she's getting up each day and surviving. She has to. What else is she supposed to do?

And then he comes back.

Scully saw them put Mulder in the ground. She stood by his side as he was lowered. This wasn't a magic act. This wasn't a trick of the light. It wasn't a case of a 'missing presumed dead suddenly reappears' soap opera plot. He was dead and now he's not. Scully's seen a lot of shit and opened herself up to new beliefs but this is a whole new level of bizarre. How do you even begin to process the return of someone you put in the ground. People don't just come back from the dead. Aliens exist and monsters are real but people don't come back from the dead.

No one who spends three months buried alive comes out of that okay. I love how they show the change in Mulder's personality. Duchovny portrays him so well. His jokes have more bite. He's darker. There's a new kind of tension that hangs between him and Scully. So thick it's almost choking. It's palpable, especially in that scene where they go back to his apartment. They seem to be dancing around each other. He even apologizes to her for being cold. He says that he's having a hard time figuring out where he fits in. He sees Scully, heavily pregnant, with a new partner by her side living her life without him, and that must be so fucking hard for him. I think back a lot to their conversation in the motel room in Requiem. How he tells her that she has so much more she needs to do with her life. Not our lives, your life. What really strikes me is how he doesn't include himself into that equation. The white picket fence domestic life that she craves. Even though she asked him to be the father of her child, he doesn't see how he fits into that scenario. He never did, even from the beginning but he was willing to try because it's Scully and he would do anything for her. But now, he sees her doing okay without him and he super doesn't feel like he belong.

I sense a kind of hopelessness here from Scully when he comes back. She doesn't know how she can convince him that, yes you belong in my life, so a lot of things go unsaid. There's something that's so maddening but also so special about this show and things that are unspoken. The things that are left up in the air. All the things that we are left to piece together. They don't even touch on the topic of the baby's paternity right after he comes back even though you can tell it's just eating at him. I think he knows but a part of him just can't believe it. He flashes Scully a confused look when Langly makes a comment about him being the father. She doesn't tell him because he's been buried for three months and she doesn't want to pile anything else on him. She can sense that he's hurting so deeply and there isn't a whole lot that she can do about it.

So here she is. She has him back, her best friend rose from the dead. By all intents and purpose, this is a miracle. The man that she loves crawled his way from the grave and back into her life. But things are different now. He's changed and so has she. And she knows they can't ever go back to the way they were before.

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 1

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

7 months ago

The rhythmic sound of those knocks in the door, simulating the 20th Century Fox intro, gets on my nerves. Because I already know who's the person behind those knocks, and because he's been doing that every single time he's come over. 

Why won't he fucking knock on the door like a normal person.

—I'm not home —I scream, resting my back on the couch. 

—Just open the door —he whines.

I groan, standing up and walking to the door. I know Tae won't leave, even if I tell him to. He'll just stay here, being a pain in the ass until I give in and open it. 

—You look horrible.

It's the first thing he says as his eyes land on me. And yes, I haven't looked my best in days -or weeks-, I've probably been wearing these pajamas for a little too long, and could be I haven't showered because my own smell isn't bothering me yet. But that doesn't give him the right to come here and tell me directly, especially when he's trying to come in. So, annoyed with his comment, I roll my eyes and push the door to close it again.

—I was just kidding —he stops me from closing the door—, kind of.

I sigh, done with whatever he's trying to say, but letting him in because I know he'll manage to get in anyway. Just a week ago he stood out of my door for three hours because I wouldn't reply to his texts nor answer his calls. 

—Why are you here? —I mutter, walking to the couch again.

—I wanted to see you —he shrugs, following my steps.

—You saw me this morning —I sit on the couch—,  when you went to the studio. And you also saw me when we went to get lunch this afternoon —I remind him—. Fuck, I see you more than Mark, and that says a lot.

—I wanted to see you... a lot of times —he adds—. Everyone's worried about you —he sits next to me.

—It's not like I'm going to kill myself for being alone —I chuckle, resting my head on the backrest.

—No, but you're a mess. Soo didn't want me to tell you, but she's preparing an intervention.

Of course. Why am I not surprised about my sister sticking her nose in my business. It'd be weird if she didn't.

—She knows you haven't met up with anyone. 

I look at him in disbelief. We two are almost tied to the hip, but he's now saying I barely hang out with them. Does he want to move in with me or what?

—Forcing you to hang out with me doesn't count —he snaps—. Leslie is out there living her life, yet you're here, looking miserable for someone that doesn't deserve it. You're way better than her, and she didn't deserve you.

Taehyung is a good friend, he seriously is. But the fact that he's trying to cheer me up with those words, when not even three months ago he was crying and throwing up over a girl he dated for three weeks, is laughable. It's not the same situation at all.

And he knows it.

I dated Leslie for almost five years, we were living together, we were working together. And out of nowhere, I find out she's been cheating on me for months, using our bed. And instead of talking to me and trying to make things up, she left and now I have to get used to her not being around, not smelling her scent, not seeing her smile when she turns to me as soon as she wakes up...

I went from having everything to not having anything. Nothing at all.

—I wanted to marry her —I admit.

Taehyung interrupts his rant, a heavy silence growing among us. I feel his eyes on me, while my gaze is still fixed on the ceiling.

—I was going to ask her to marry me —I scoff—. I even booked a table at the most expensive restaurant, and reserved the diamond ring of her dreams... For nothing.

When I look at him, I see that look full of pity everyone has been glaring at me since it was known Leslie left me. The only reason why I don't care about being around Tae is because he was the only one that didn't look at me that way. Yet there he was. 

—Don't look at me like that —I complained, pissed off.

—Like what? —he changes his tone— I can't look at you right now —he fakes a sob—. Your smell is blinding me... literally.  If someone needs tear gas, they can just throw you out there and get the same result.

I let out a laugh, remembering why I tolerate him so much. 

—Don't be an ass. It's not that bad —I smell my t-shirt.

—You have to be kidding me. You were wearing this same t-shirt this morning when you were working —he grabs the edge of my t-shirt—, and yesterday you were wearing the exact same one. When was the last time you showered?

—I don't know —I shrug again.

—She won't come back. And it doesn't matter how long you go without showering, or without meeting us. She left Mark and the studio, she left you... She's a selfish bitch. And don't look at me that way.

He points his finger at me when I lift my head, only to throw him a glare.

—I know how important she was to you, but you need to let it go —he stands up—. Go out, hook up with girls, give yourself a treat... —he lifts his eyebrows— And let's start today. Jimin is throwing a party at his place.

—I don't want to go.

—Either you go there, or I'll tell him to throw the party here. Your choice —he looks around.

He knows me so well, that he's aware he got away with what he wanted by the way I sigh and let my head fall back. 

—Today will be your first day as a single man —he cheers, with a wide smile.

✸ ✸ ✸

Currently

I park my motorbike outside, next to the entrance. A wide smile forms on my face as I keep seeing people coming and leaving the pub, all looking sober enough to go for a second round to the nightclubs nearby. 

—Hey, Brooke —I smile at the brunette behind the counter.

—Hey, cutie —she smiles at me—. What can I get for you?

I know it could be an innocent question for anyone else. It should be an innocent question. But the way she's looking at me, while licking her lips, gives that question a totally different meaning. Both of us know that if it weren't for her position here, I would've made a move on her the first time I saw her in the inauguration.

—Your boss —I reply—, and a beer.

She throws a wink at me. Brooke serves me the beer first, and walks away to look for Taehyung, where the hell he must be right now. 

As I look around, I see some girls looking my way, and turning those small smiles to smirks as soon as they're aware I'm looking back. One blonde girl in concrete gets my attention, and seems like she's going to come my way, but stops. Soon I know the reason why.

—Kookie —he greets with a smile—, what brings you here?

—I was just passing by —I give a sip to my beer—. I wanted to see how it was going. 

—Oh, so you're finally taking your responsibility as a partner?

—I'm not a partner though. 

I only gave him the money I got from the ring I bought months ago. I wasn't counting on it anyway, so when Taehyung kept saying he wanted to open a pub -and only needed 5.000 dollars more, I saw it pretty clearly.

—For me you are —he shakes his head—. What do you think? —he opens his arm wide, referring to the whole establishment.

—It's good to see you're doing good.

Honestly, I haven't come here since the inauguration day. But I heard some people saying this was the new "It" place to spend a good time at night. And seeing the amount of people here, and waiting outside, I can tell they weren't lying. It's doing great.

—Are you still growing your hair? 

—Hmm —I nod—. I won't grow it longer than shoulder length, but I like how it's looking.

We talk a bit more, but Taehyung ends up leaving when Brooke calls him on the other side of the counter. I stay in the same spot, enjoying my beer, looking around... Nothing deep until someone gets my attention. 

She's sitting by herself at one of the tables, and she keeps looking around, her eyes scanning through every single person that's here. But it doesn't seem like anyone catches her attention, because she moves from one to the next one. Until her eyes finally meet mine. She's surprised to see me looking at her, but that doesn't stop her from looking. Her gaze doesn't leave me, and she tries to scan me the same way she scanned the others. The only difference is that this time she was caught, but  she doesn't care, since her eyes go over my body with no shame. 

I do the same. I scan every corner of her face, every curve... And I'm feeling tempted to move away from here, and take the first step.

She's playing a game I love. Who will hold the look the longest? And who will make the move first? And the new girl loses, her eyes drift from mine. 

I turn to my glass, and take a quick look at all the liquors carefully placed on the showcase, going through all the names I'm able to read from my place. I'm focused on trying to read one of the names when I feel someone tapping on my shoulder. 

There it is. I knew she would give in first...

But when I turn around, with that proud smirk, I don't see her. Instead, there's a brunette that's almost as tall as me, with a ridiculously big and wide smile. Her hip is slightly swayed to the right, while her finger keeps twirling around one of her locks. 

—I'm Tonya —she introduces herself.

—Jungkook —I smile at her.

I know she starts talking, because I see her red colored lips moving, but I can't pay attention to a single word she's saying. My head is still stuck on that other girl. And for that exact same reason, I look for her over this girl's shoulder, finding her eyes perking with curiosity and a glint of disappointment. As soon as she's aware I caught her looking, she moves her gaze away again and takes a long sip of her drink. For a moment, I believe she'll come right to where we are standing and interrupt us. But she obviously doesn't.

I see myself battling between two choices when I see her standing up and walking to the counter, just to pay and leave. 

—I'm really sorry, Tania —she stops her endless monologue—. I really have to leave right now.

—It's Tonya —she laughs, uncomfortable—. But sure, don't worry. Do you have Instagram or somewhere I can find you?

—Ask Brooke —I point to her—. She'll help you out with that —I start walking towards the door.

—Can't believe you're making me do that again —Brooke rolls her eyes when she hears me say that. 

Most of the girls are never that into me to reach out to a stranger and ask them about me. But those who do, get some lame excuse from someone else whenever they ask for my phone number or social media. Brooke is brilliant for that. Last time, she managed to say I was some kind of hustler, fishing for a new victim. Others probably just said they didn't know me, which is true. 

When I head outside, I see her body standing in the middle of the pavement, her head turning left and right, while she keeps checking her phone. 

—Do you need a ride? 

[basketballanonsblog]

Something new

This is Jihyo's pov in 'Where we stand':

Jihyo stood in front of the mirror, making sure she looked her best for this outing. Outing? Or date? She had allowed you to court her and she would be lying if she said it had not made her swoon. Truthfully, despite your instant and mutual attraction when you first met, Jihyo stood by what she had said.

However, as the months passed by, you broke down her defences. But Jihyo happily accepted it. It was raining, on the day she had realised she had fallen in love with you.

You had run through the pouring rain after they had finished working just because you "wanted to see her". It was that moment, that made Jihyo realise that everything you had done and continue to do, was your way of saying I love you. She recalled how you shivered from the cold rainfall but your warm smile was infectious, igniting something within Jihyo. Leading to an 'oh' moment and a sleepless night. Instead of feeling afraid like she initially thought she would be, Jihyo just felt light and happy.

And two months later, she finally decided to use this opportunity to tell you the truth.

Finally deciding that she was satisfied with her presentation, Jihyo left her room, only to hear Sana teasing you.

"Ah y/n you're so sweet. I wonder if Jihyo would mind if I steal you for the day instead?"

"Yes, she would mind." She knew how to make an entrance, and she giggled to herself when you whipped around to look at her, flowers in your hand. "Hi."

You waved shyly at her, and your reaction to her never ceases to amaze Jihyo.

Both of you did not stick around long, and as she took your hand, everything felt right.

~x~

You were always full of surprises, calling her beautiful at the top of the ferris wheel. No one had ever looked at her the way you had done at that moment, and deep down, she wishes that look will never change.

And now here you both were, sitting side by side. Jihyo was still feeling the energy of being pushed high on the swings, and if she had not already, Jihyo would've had fallen in love with you after today.

You had become quiet, and she noticed you frowning and wringing your hands together. Before she could ask if everything was okay, you blurted out her name.

"Jihyo. What exactly are we?"

"Hm?"

"I know you said you don't do dating but I don't know where we stand." You held her hands to anchor yourself.

She knew what was about to happen, and braced herself.

"Jihyo I'm in love with you. Every moment I spend with you, I keep falling. And I'm sorry to spring this on you out of the blue but keeping this bottled up started to hurt. I feel lighter after getting all of this out but please don't feel pressured-"

Jihyo surged forward to embrace you tightly, and caressed your cheek.

"I love you too y/n."

Your smile was practically blinding, and you leaned into her touch.

"I was so afraid that I would lose you if I said anything."

Jihyo wanted to ease your worries, but you pulled out a sleek box. She gasped when you opened it, revealing the necklace.

She listened as you explained your choice of gift but she also felt like she was drowning in your love. Jihyo started crying, which you immediately noticed and before you could ask her what's wrong, she pulled you towards her for your first kiss.

It didn't take long for you to sink into the kiss but she pulled away after a minute.

"I must have done something exceptional in a previous life, if the universe has given me someone as extraordinary as you."

You put the necklace on her, and the pair of you admired it.

"So um...does that mean we're dating now?" You looked sheepish, and Jihyo decided to tease you.

"Hmm I'm not sure if I'm ready to make it official." You look dejected and Jihyo felt a little bad.

"Oh my gosh honey, I was kidding. Yes, you can say that we're dating."

You pouted at her, making your now girlfriend laugh.

"That was mean Jihyo."

She planted kisses all over your face until you yourself giggled.

"I'm sorry jagi, what can I do to make it up to you?"

"You can tell the members that we're together?”

Jihyo blanched at the idea of telling the girls, because she knew she would be the target of their teasing for a good while.

"Ugh fine. But I'm only doing this because I love you." And for Jihyo, she would say those three words over and over again if meant you smiled like that.

[futurewriter2000]

The Daring, Forbidden and Evil - pt. 3

A/N:This one is a bit shorter but stay with me. It will get so much better as it increases. I have plans for this that you don't even know about

XX

It's one of those days when you believe the world is against you but after the moments of ager, you realise that it's actually quite a beautiful world.

You got up early. You had class and you were already running late. All up until you opened the door and saw an empty classroom. You couldn't hear yourself think from your heavily beating heart, so you checked the number of the classroom and realised that it was correct.

"Did I mess up?" you asked yourself and continued to look at the door, then thinking if they transferred in those two minutes you were late but that wouldn't be possible, could it?

Could it?!

You looked around at the empty corridor, finding no soul in your eyesight and you scowled, throwing your head into your hands.

You could have slept. You could have gone to breakfast. You could have done so many things after running to the other side of the castle to find and empty classroom.

It was one of those days. Now, you had no energy to move or go to any other class you had later on.

"I wish grand-mere was here." you whispered and sat down on the cold floor. It was moments like this that you missed your one and only family member that really cared for you. She would never transfer you for the last two years of magic school because it was closer to family. She would never put you so far away from all the things you have known in life. All of your friendships you had established, your projects, your true happiness.

Now, you were stuck somewhere in the middle of an awful weather, sitting on the cold floor with nobody and nothing there to comfort you.

Yes, you missed your grandmother more than you let on into the world. You just had no idea how to process grief at your age. All your life you felt the tears have been a sign of weakness. Even though your grandmother was the best person in the family, she was still a Lestrange and a Lestrange never cried. Perhaps that was why your father never showed much emotions except for you and your grandmother. You never saw him cry, not even on his worst days.

Sometimes you thought if he cried when grand-mother died but does he even know she is gone? Does he know his only daughter is somewhere in the middle of nowhere, taken care of her mother's side of the family.

You laughed a bit at the face your father would make if he found out you were with the Black side of the family, or the Malfoys. He preferred you to be as far away from that side of the family as he could.

"Nobody told you, have they?" you heard a chuckle from above.

You looked up and saw a bunch of red hair sticking out the opening. He was smiling sincerely, as if he was actually quite happy to see you and for the first time since you have come here, this smile sent a spark to light up your heart again.

You smiled widely as well, getting up on your feet and leaning over the opening as well. "You knew?"

"I didn't but I, unlike you probably, talk to my roommates." he winked and you rolled your eyes.

"We have different schedules for this year and we talk." you jumped on the shelf with one leg hanging on each side. He jumped as well and mimicked your position. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I was supposed to meet Fred but I found you instead." he grinned even wider, showing up his dimples that you had no clue he had up until he was this close to you. "Been quite stuck in a rut whether I should tell you or not, since you've got to keep your reputation."

You laughed and kicked his foot with yours. "I was joking about that. I'm a jokester."

"Are you now?" he asked intrigued.

"Oh, yes. There was a whole comedy show back in France."

"You're from France?"

"I'm from here but I grew up there."

"I thought they hid you away in sum rotten hole in Kazakhstan."

You laughed again. "You didn't even know I existed up until two months ago."

"I know... but people talk." he wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed... again. You just laughed with him, which you haven't really done in such a long time.

When you calmed down, you caught his eyes looking at you, observing you and so you asked. You asked because you didn't trust people easily. "So if people talk, how come you're talking to me?"

He looked away, gazing at the distance as if he didn't know whether he should make a joke or be serious. It was quite a conflict when it came to this but unlike you, he trusted people easily. "If people talk, why are you talking to me?"

"What do you mean?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"You're with the Malfoys, I bet they told you all about the Weasleys."

You were stuck on the spot because sudden realisation hit you when he said that. The two of you seemed to be in the same position when it comes to reputation. One bad, one worse, one poor, one evil, but what connected you was one family.

"They did." you answered and pulled your legs up on the shelf, crossing them over. "But you're nothing they said you were."

He smiled faintly and jumped down, offering you a hand. You eyed it for a moment and took it. Usually when you took a boy's hand it was cold and clammy but not his. His hand was soft and warm, nothing compared to what you held. The only discomfort was the roughness of them. They were a bit harsh on the surface but when he grabbed your hand, it was firm and gentle - as if that roughness was only there to be there.

You jumped on your feet but he still held your hand. You didn't let go either. You felt as if your feet sunk into the ground and you couldn't move a muscle. Your stomach was tugging from the inside out and you could feel yourself sweat on all the wrong places.

"You're not what they said you were either." he smiled before letting go of your hand and walking away, leaving you there, melting into the ground.

[philiponmycracker]

I'm sitting on this train I need to write this down, what I'm thinking. My sister is my parents only child. I can finally draw my conclusion, almost towards my 40s and finally Connect all the dots I can do that now at my age. She is the first child, the absolute "project". I am just their extra, "comfort" child if you will. They never cared about me. Their lives are either about them or about her, never been about me not even a little bit. And I have proof, factual proof to prove it, more than one. What is absurd is though, so why the fuck do I still care about what they think? What they want from me? How they want to spend their old age? Why should I care that they may die never having grandchildren? Why shouldn't I just fucking do what I want about my life with my husband, why should I ever care whatever the loving fuck they want before they die?

They didn't care how I lived my life until now, they didn't care I sailed off to literally other side of the globe at 18 year old completely on my own with NO backup plan to fall onto. Keep saying "oh you will always do just fine, we don't worry abut you BUT YOUR SISTERRRR We need to contCt everyone we know to find her nice home, nice job, nice career" for all my fucking adult life.

They always chose the best schools for her, to grant her easier life. They just stick me in an inferno of a highschool to keep her company. I didnt even take the uni entry exam (probs the only person in Korea to have done that out of free will) they did not bat an eye??? Do you know what it means Korean parents being totally fine with their child not taking 수능?? Its like signing a socio-cultural death sentence, literally crying out to the world "I don't care if my kid fails life, totally fine lol"

It becomes painfully clear, our parents literally had no fucking plan at all for what i was supposed to do if i were to fail, or to be miserable.

They have been busy their entire lives building safety nets around my sister - their true love child, I presume - i could have been falling off a burning roof they wouldnt have known about it.

So why should I care what they want out of me now? If they die not every knowing who I am, will I truely regret it? Will I have remorse like oh I was a bad daughter? Will I regret ignoring their last years? What do I care if they want grandkids, why am I supposed to sacrifice my own life to make them happy for what, 10 years maximum until they are burried?

Have you guys seen Gattaca the movie? It is the most important movie in my life. "Favourite" does not cut it. They treat my sister like Anton, I ended up being Vincent. And oh my god I understood. Everything, even at a young age. It lit my brain up with million light bulbs. I cried for several nights. How it inspired me to go where I always want to go, to safely be whoever I wanted to be. To the stars. Literally, a one way ticket to the stars. I never saved anything for the swim back, honest to god, no backup plan at all. Never looked back. Where I was going, I did EVERYTHING I can do remain there, to be free, on my own. I was never coming back I knew that at 18, determined yes I will be buried in the stars. Yes I would rather die here than go back. So why should I care about them now?

The nerves to tell me "oh but don't worry I know you both work and all but if you don't have kids now it may be too late, we will be too old and crippled maybe and won't be able to help you out" oh so you NOW you want to be there for my hypothetical kids for my benefit, like how you were NOT there in my adult life? How you were never mentally nor emotionally there to watch me grow up? This is some boomer core shit I swear to god. So why do I feel a hint of guilt for thinking no, I don't care for children just yet but if i do it'll be on our own terms, just for me and my husband? It is definitely not going to be about them? Am I mental, am I this much of a pussy

Through all this, we are indeed blessed I thank the stars the bond is strong between my sister and myself, that our sistery love will last our life times and more. It is a blessing, even this bitterness will have no place between us. I am grateful at least we stick together, both understanding yeah our parents simply never knew how to raise children.

[star--nymph]

4, 19, 30, and 31 for eury and cullen c:

OC Ship Ask

4. Has either OC ever gotten a hickey off the other? What was their reaction?

Eurydice has a thing for biting, so Cullen has been the victim of more than just hickeys over the years. Cullen has mixed feelings for it because he very clearly loves being bitten (especially in the moment) but the side glances he gets the next day, Maker. He's heard every damn joke in the book about it. He's tried to half-heartedly stop her before she does but, ya know, he really doesn't want her to. At best, he's stopped her and told her where she can bite him so he doesn't show, which is really the best compromise they can come to because unless Cullen says 'I hate that, stop it' Eurydice's gonna do it. And he's never going to do that considering it gets him just a tad excited to see what's she's done to him in the mirror next day. I mean, she's offered to heal the mark away too and you'll notice he waves it away. All I'm saying is hmmmmmmmmmmm.

19. How good are they are communication?

At first, no. They're both notoriously bad at discussing feelings and would rather jump into the Fade (again) than sit down and deal whatever's actually bothering them. The thing about Eurydice and Cullen, though, is that I don't think they could have survived as a couple without communication. Eurydice needs things to be made clear to her or she just won't notice it--and if she knows something is wrong but not what, she's liable to keep asking until it blows up in her face. And frankly I think Cullen needs to be able to say what he needs to say without being judged for it. He spent decades containing the worst of his trauma and all it's done is hurt him and everyone around him. The good thing is they are also two pragmatic people and tend to attack problems head on. The two of them sitting down and saying right out that there won't be secrets, or double meanings between them. They will talk about it because they have to. Are they always good at it? No. But, that's why it takes work. You can't change yourself over night, no matter how much you love a person.

30. Describe how one character would cheer the other up after a hard day.

When Eurydice was nearly sick with stress during Trespasser (both from trials of motherhood and from political bullshit), Cullen made a day where he took all her mounts out to an open field out in the country, and had a picnic made for them. They left the children to be watched in Skyhold and he brought her out there, told her she can do whatever she wanted--the field is big enough for her to race any one of her mounts, and they're all content to graze and relax with her. It was one of the rare times he's ever seen Eurydice honest to God cry, nearly collapsing his arms from the sheer relief. They spend the day and night there, pretending like maybe this could be their lives forever. It couldn't be, but for the time being, it was a wonderful dream.

31. How would they describe one another.

Eurydice: "...Brave. Inflexible. Loud. Very loud. When he must make his opinion known, he speaks like the crows caw. Caw caw caw. For hours. Stubborn, stuck in his ways--like a...a stick in the mud. That is the term, yes? Yes, A stick in the mud. I've see halla like him who will ram their heads repeatedly into the gate because they are convinced one more slam will get them out of it. They will not notice they are bleeding because of it or they were put there to rest, they only keep going because they disagree with the situation. That is very much like Cullen. I told him once and he stared at me for a good minute with his jaw twitching. I believe that means he did not enjoy the analogy, but then I am not good at those so perhaps that was it. ...I occurs to me that I am not describing him correctly. I am doing my best but you are asking me to put him into words and I can not. I can not. You have to see him to know him. He is irrational and tiresome and broken and-and bright. Bright when he is happy, when he is brave. When he fights and when he tries. Even when he's hurt, he will go on because it is not him to give up. He does not know how. I have had him weep in my lap and beg for lyrium, and when those tears dry, I have watched him force himself up and say 'to work!' He would die then...then give up his capability to change and be better. Ma ena'vun. Evanuris aan atish’an ar hamin. Hamin." Cullen: "You want me to... -clears his throat- Even if this was any of your business I wouldn't know where to-- -sighs- The Inquisitor--Eurydice, that is, is a force unto herself. I doubt there is a single person on this continent who could string a single sentence together that would properly describe her--except maybe Varric and he'd only embellish everything to a ludicrous degree." "You're stalling, Commander." "S-stalling! I'm not--Eurydice is...unimaginable, alright? She scares me, she enthralls me, she frustrates me to no end. I've been baffled into silence more times than I could ever count by her just opening her mouth, much less by everything she does. You're asking me to put into mere words a woman who has sewn asunder in the sky back together and lived after a mountain fell upon her, and who is so obsessed with a baby halla that I've witnessed her trying to carry the thing up six flights of stairs. I feel like we've somehow trapped an otherworldly creature sometimes. And--Maker--despite all the blood she's spilled and all the questionable decisions she's made, I've never met someone who is so utterly...kind. Not to most but when she lov--when she likes you, she's the kindest soul. I don't...know what else you want me to say. Just go watch her; you'll be at a loss for words as well, I expect."

[thegreatobsesso]

Word find tag (smile, cry, laugh)

Thanks for the tag, @winterandwords​; oof, these are doozies. 😅🤩

smile

Simon POV

“Keys, of course.” Grace held her own up from where it dangled around her neck; the blue stone flashed in the daylight. “What else?” 

Flora still looked unconvinced. “How many are you planning to make?” 

This was the best part. 

Arguably, also the worst part. 

“About five thousand?” he ventured, pressing on through the sound of Ken nearly choking. “Enough for everyone at all six schools to start using them all at once. Imagine: suppression, nationwide, simply stops working, with no explanation. If that doesn’t make a statement, I don’t know what does.” He allowed himself a smile. “No one gets hurt. There’s no war. All that happens is, the world sees we’re not going away. That magic’s insuppressible.” 

Behind him, Callie lashed her magic across the piano from left to right, sending an escalating cacophony of notes tearing through the room before jamming her pinkie finger into the thing’s rightmost key in joyous punctuation.

cry

Callie POV

The magic shifted almost imperceptibly, its taste changed; physical magic like hers, like Peter’s, but frightening in its precision, the way it clung to her muscles and left her brain free to cry in protest as Riley pulled her gently from the bed. 

No, she tried to say. No, no, no. She felt feverish; the robe clung to her clammy skin but whether it was from the bath or her fear, she couldn’t say. Riley took one of Callie’s hands in her own and held it out, away from their bodies; she took Callie’s other hand and placed it on her shoulder, smiling when it stuck there. 

“My mother made me take ballroom dancing lessons when I was a kid. Amazing,” she hummed thoughtfully, low in her throat, “how all that muscle memory sticks with you. Have you ever done it? Nod yes or no.” 

The bonds around her head and neck loosened a fraction but she didn’t use the temporary freedom, refused to give Riley the satisfaction until- 

“I asked you a question,” Riley said softly, her voice laced with a different kind of magic. “Answer me.” 

The answer was no and to her chagrin, her head moved side-to-side to indicate it. Riley smiled - just a hint, a subtle pleasure at a tiny victory. 

Acid rose in her throat and she closed her eyes. Even if she had to feel it, she didn’t have to look. Riley’s hand, soft on her waist; her own feet moving over the tile. Riley led, and she followed. 

laugh

Simon POV

“It isn’t like nothing happened,” he said calmly. “Everything that’s happened is always there, it colors every moment I spend with her, Rich. And so does everything that’s happened since then. I know this sounds trite, but it’s complicated.” 

“Are you fucking her?” 

“What?” 

“You heard me, are you fucking her?” 

“No, I’m not,” he said flatly, amazed at how quickly his brother’s tone changed back - mean and simple again. “And you know what? If I was it’d be none of your business.” 

“I’m just tryin’ to understand how you could be so stupid, bro.” 

“I don’t have to be fucking somebody to show compassion!” 

Rich made a noise on the other end of the line – somewhere between a cough and a laugh, a hard sound that signaled the impending shutdown of the whole conversation.

They weren’t going to fix anything this round. Maybe next time. Maybe not. 

Tagging @harps-for-days, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @diphthongsfordays and @cilly-the-writer with the new words fire, water, air, and user’s choice of any word that’s got to do with nature, earth, trees, dirt, or whatever’s in your WIP for the last element :D

[forever-eternal]

He Remembers

Minnesota remembers.

He remembers a lot.

@minnesota51

———————————————————————

The State of Minnesota. Established May 11th, 1858.

The first of nineteen States that stayed with their father.

The only one of the nineteen to remember him as Congress.

When Jasper Jones formed, he formed older than most of the States. He formed as four-in-body, older than the average of 2-in-body States usually appear as.

Three years before the Civil War began. Before his father’s mind and body broke down and he changed.

He remembers the day he was formed. He knows how territories work: the personification had to be willed into being by the Government personifications, the work usually done by another State or the Government themselves. With so many territories, his parents decided it best to just wait for the personification to form with their Statehood. Most other Countries willed their territories into being so they didn’t have extra work to do, so they had someone to blame for the territories faults.

Now, his parents have five territory personifications, all under 15-in-body. That was simply how territories worked, they didn’t age past a certain point until they were granted Statehood or the equivalent. They’re the only ones who live in their home full-time, every other kid has their own place at this point.

But Minnesota– Jasper– remembers.

———————————————————————

“Pa?” the young boy sniffs quietly, clutching his timber wolf, Gerri, to his chest.

He’s reached one year of Statehood, 5-in-body, and Ma and Pa brought another kid back a few months ago. His name is Oregon, but they said to call him Miles.

And Jasper found himself here, one stormy night, standing in the open door of the new kids nursery, with forest-themed walls and pale-wood furniture. The whipping winds and thunder outside woke up the younger kid, Jasper heard him crying after a loud, loud bit of thunder shook the house. Had heard the man make his way down the hall. Ma was down in Virginia, some work Pa couldn’t be there for.

The older man perks up from the rocking chair, the now sleeping toddler resting against one of his shoulders, Miles’ thumb in his mouth, a deep brown blanket covering his Pa’s lap and drawn up over the baby’s back. Miles’ white night clothes meshed with Pa’s own, and Jasper knew his own would do the same as he stumbled forward.

Pa’s eyes, green, just like his own, are tired. But he smiles anyway, and lifts the small boy into his lap with ease, hardly jostling the sleeping toddler as he tugs the blankets over the other child as well.

Jasper leans against the other side of his Pa’s chest, holding Gerri tighter as a bright flash of light makes its way through the curtains, followed by a loud crash of thunder.

Pa slowly rocks the chair back and forth, arm coming around to hold Jasper closer, chest vibrating with a steady hum.

The rocking motion, his Pa’s grip, and the comforting hums drown out the storm, and Jasper falls asleep.

———————————————————————

It was May 11, 1861. Jasper Jones, the Personification of Minnesota, has reached three years of Statehood.

It’s only him and Miles, the only States left in the house. The Departments come and go, several sticking around for weeks before they trade off with another group.

Ma always looks tired, always rushing back and forth.

He hasn’t seen Pa in a month. Ma says he’s sick, really sick. She says Pa wouldn’t want Jasper to see him like that. Pa had been sick back in March, really sick, but Ma says it’s gotten worse.

The Departments have been taking care of him and Miles. Ma has been so tired, so busy. She tries her best, but Pa can’t be left alone for long, and she’s doing Pa’s work as well as her own.

There’s a war, all the other States— even Brooklyn, only 14-in-body— left. Jasper knows it upset his parents, knows Miles is too young to remember any of them, but Jasper does.

He remembers Isaac, and Jackson, and Gus, and Gabriel and all the other kids.

It’s May 11th, 1861. He’s reached three years of Statehood.

He sits alone in the dining room, up long past his bedtime, staring at his plate of a slice of toast and the sweet jam Ma made for special occasions.

He sniffs. Feels his eyes burn and wipes at them with his sleeve.

“Jas?” A raspy voice whispers from the archway, and Jasper freezes, his Ma, “What’s wrong, bambino?”

Jasper just sniffs again, dropping his arm as more tears start to fall.

“Oh, topo.” His Ma murmurs, lifting him onto her lap— he hadn’t seen her move, “My dear boy, what’s got you all worked up?”

“Miss Pa.” Jasper hiccups, “Miss you.”

He feels his Ma tense, before he runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m so sorry, topo,” she whispers, standing up, “I haven’t been a good madre this last month, have I?”

“Ma’s busy.” Jasper whines, burrowing closer, “S’okay.”

“No, no, topo.” She says, “It’s not okay. What are you doing down here all alone, baby?”

“..S’May.” He mutters.

Ma takes a deep breath, releases it with a shudder.

“Why don’t we…,” she pauses, “Why don’t we go see your Pa? He’s asleep, but bambino, if he wakes up like he has been…”

“Wanna see Pa.” He leans back, tears still in his eyes, “Miss him.”

“Alright.” His Ma says softly, settling him on her hip and making her way up the stairs, “If it’s too much, he won’t be upset if you leave.”

“Won’t.”

They reach the door, the door to Ma and Pa’s medical room, and Ma nudges it open.

There are several lamps still on, illuminating the room. His Pa is in one of the beds, leather restraints around his wrists and tummy. There’s red bandages around his chest, and as his Ma carries him closer he can see the same type of restraints around his ankles.

“Pa���s sick.” He whispers as his Ma settles into the chair beside the bed, holding him in her lap as they both watch the man.

“He is.” Ma’s voice is quiet.

Pa looks exhausted, long brown hair wild and messy— a strange look, Pa always took care of his hair— and dressed in an open button-down shirt. He’s pale, almost grey looking, with dark circles under his eyes. He’s breathing heavy, ragged, like his lungs aren’t working properly.

“He’ll be okay?”

Ma purses her lips against his hair, reaching out and holding one of Pa’s restrained hands.

“He will be.” She promises.

“…S’my birthday…” he whispers, “I’ll use my wish to make sure he’s okay.”

Ma smiles sadly, “Pa would want you to use it for yourself, topo.”

“I want Pa to be okay.” Jasper is determined.

Ma presses a kiss to his forehead, “Alright, little one.”

They sit in silence, before Ma starts to sing, quiet, soft, and slow.

“Buon compleanno a te,” she starts, “buon compleanno a te, buon compleanno a Jasper, buon compleanno a te...”

Jasper clings tighter, his gaze burning into his Pa’s body.

He’s there, still. Asleep and sick, but there.

Jasper still misses him.

———————————————————————

1925, he’s 67-years-a-State. He’s the oldest of the States that stayed, the only one of them who remembers their father as Congress and not Gov.

His Pa had woken up at the end of the war different. Grey eyes instead of green, skin perpetually pale and sickly. He gets sick and stays sick easier and longer than he used to.

He has trouble walking, most days.

Jasper started keeping an extra cane for his Pa whenever he would visit the other man, all too happy to watch his Ma and Pa dance, even for short periods of time. Happy to take over dancing with Ma when Pa couldn’t continue.

“How are you, my boy?” His Pa is quieter than he used to be, once the most jovial man in all the Northeast, but..

He’s still his Pa, and Jasper is more than willing to help and visit the man whenever he gets the chance.

“All good, Pa.”

———————————————————————

Minnesota watches the Statehouse dissolve into near pandemonium when his Pa arrives to take over the meetings. Watches his Pa’s gaze go cold when the others brush him off.

The other States always look confused when he and the younger kids gather close to the man after a meeting, as Minnesota helps him from his seat on bad days.

He watches when the realization hits. When they realize that his Pa is the man they once knew as Congress.

The midwest isn’t often remembered for much, if at all, but Minnesota will gladly show them what happens if you cross a man raised after the Civil War erased what little mercy his parents had left.

They may be merciful to the States, let things slide… but Minnesota is the oldest.

He remembers his Ma leaving the house in the dead of night during the Civil War, coming back clean but smelling of gunpowder and rust.

He remembers his parents in the Roaring 20’s, living in New York City and ignoring the laws despite being the Federal Government (he remembers offering to help, he knows how to dispose of a body, he knows each and every one of them have killed before).

He remembers his Pa in the 1940s, with a glint in his eye as he left for a ‘business trip’.

Minnesota, Jasper Jones, remembers.

[moiravim]

Chapter 6

•bucky x yn

•platonic Clint x yn

•platonic Nat x yn

•Zombie apocalypse AU

2 years ago

I sit on the couch of me, Natasha and Clint's apartment. I watch the television, patiently waiting for news on the infection. It was recommended to stay inside, but my best friends Nat and Clint went out to get some groceries.

"The infection is spreading rapidly. Stay in your home at all costs." The news reporters ramble about The dangers and effects of the infection.

I anxiously wait for them to come back home when I hear screaming coming from the hallway. I rush up opening door to see what's happening. Natasha's running towards me screaming as Clint chases her.

I immediately realize that Clint had been infected. I watch in horror before running to grab a knife. Natasha continues to run as I get closer to Clint, gaining his attention.

I quickly stab him in the neck, killing him. I look down in disbelief eyes watering as I look at my best friend. Natasha speeds to my side before stuttering out a thank you.

I dropped down to my knees and grab Clint's head, resting it on my lap. I put my hands through the hair of his lifeless body before bursting out into tears.

"Oh my God, oh my gods what have I done.." I stutter in fear.

Natasha sits down next to me and puts her head on my shoulder. She comforts me and tells me; "it's not your fault. It's not your fault. You were just saving me, you did the right thing."

"Hey we need to get out of here YN. it's not safe anymore. Come on we can make a base in the old movie theater. It's closed up years ago, so there should be no people there. Will be safe then. Come on, let's hurry up and pack." She tells me, ushering me to leave with her.

I quickly agree knowing that there's no better options and that I'd rather spend my time with Natasha rather than alone and dead.

So we set up a base in the abandoned movie theater. We boarded up all the windows brought in mattresses and found weapons to keep us safe. We'd go out looking for food once a weak and other than that would spend all our time together.

We got closer than ever over that time. I think Natasha for teaching me how to survive through this apocalyptic world.

One year Later

Over time we had moved to many new bases. But one thing stayed the same. We always stick together. Currently Natasha and I are living in a cabin in the woods. It's right outside the city so we have close access to stores in the area.

This is the happiest I've been in a while. The cabin feels so safe, especially with Natasha. That was until I heard a familiar sound. Scratching on the door. It was definitely a zombie trying to get in. I went to warn Natasha who had been sleeping.

The two of us immediately run out preparing to fight the infected. But by the time the zombie gets in we're not ready. Neither of us have our weapons out when It launches itself at Natasha and bites her.

It continues to eat her as I stare in shock. I run to go get my knife. I come back and kill the zombie with my knife.

I cry looking at Natasha groaning. I go on to my knees, begging her to wake up. Natasha does wake up, but some things wrong. "Please, please. You'll be okay come on!" I beg her as she locks herself in the bedroom.

I begin to sob as I yell "Please Natasha!! Come out, don't leave me here please.. please". I start to cry louder as I hear growling coming from the room.

I know what's happening. She's changing already. I sob in fear of being alone during all of this.

I hear the door being broken again as my cries grow louder. She runs at me and I immediately stab her in the shoulder, killing her.

I run out of our base planning on never coming back. I don't look back as I continue to run as far away from the cabin as possible. I keep running until the cabin is out of view and I'm in an unfamiliar area in the woods.

I had killed both my best friends and it was all my fault. What did it matter if I survived any longer. But I sure as hell didn't want to be killed by those things. So I just ran. In search of places that were at least half safe.

Present time

"Hey yn, after we find Natasha there's this hospital-"Bucky begins to say. "Bucky-"I cut him off but he continues to talk. "We can finally be safe again and-".

"Bucky!!" I shout to gain his attention.

"What? It'll just be the 4 of us-" I roll my eyes as I take a deep breath and say; "Bucky. I haven't been truthful with you

....

Nat is dead."

[thessalian]

Thess vs GEMINI

...See, I spent years in my late childhood / young adulthood studying theatre, English literature, media of all kinds. Plus did a little (okay, a lot) of thinking of my own on the subject, because my brain Be Like That. This tends to mean that I see the Gut-Wrenching Plot Things coming a pretty solid percentage of the time. However, that does not make them hurt any less, because I always hope that now is the time I'll be wrong.

...I wasn't wrong.

Right. I know this is going to throw something horrific at me, emotions-wise. And possibly, like, gameplay-wise. Because this is a Cauldron and Cauldrons are painful. But I'm going to get this done, because I've got noplace else to go gameplay-wise until I finish this. Except for upgrading weapons I will never use. But that's for weekday mornings. Let's do this!

...Let's talk to some people first. I am somehow Not Ready.

I ... have run out of people to talk to. Guess it's time.

Okay, watching Beta just ... enjoy being outside is ... it's just intensely sweet.

Yep. HAEPHESTUS is being an asshole. GET OFF MY BABY SISTER, YOU ASSHOLE.

(I want a montage where Aloy teaches Beta how to shoot a bow. I have a feeling I am not going to get one.)

Right. Now HAEPHESTUS is playing hide-and-seek with me. Beautiful. Not sure which direction to go first so I'll gooooo ... right.

So we're going to do a little bit of climbing puzzle and a whole lot of "wave of machines in enclosed space"? Okay. I can deal with that. This could be worse.

...Oh. And we're adding The Floor Is Lava, too? Well. Electricity. I guess it'd do HAEPHESTUS too much damage to have the floor actually be lava. Still, if you wanted me to stay still, you shouldn't have put convenient crates everywhere, you malicious AI nitwit.

I'm getting a lot more comfortable with jumping onto moving floaty carrier-bots.

I am not getting any better at dealing with fucking Leaplashers. WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT RADAR POD?!?

Great. Can't find the radar pod and I have a fucking Plowhorn coming at me. Fine. I will simply go away from the centre of the platform, and do weak spots from memory.

Getting way better at grapple-leaps too. Better late than never.

Okay. Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiig thing in the middle of the Cauldron. If we're getting a Corrupter--

...Okay, yes, HAEPHESTUS, you're giving the war-cry of all the Cauldrons I've infiltrated, so give me your best shot--

.........It's. A Slaughterspine.

It's. Not even an Apex Slaughterspine.

I have been hunting these things for weapon upgrades for weeks. APEX ones.

I KEEL YOU WITH THE BITS OF YOUR FALLEN SUPERIORS, SHITBAG SLAUGHTERSPINE!

Yeah, if this was supposed to be the Big Intimidating Boss Battle? Um. Yeah. I've done an Apex Slaughterspine kill while it was surrounded by Leaplashers. No problem.

Okay, this is touching as fuck and I can feel the mood whiplash approaching.

Heh. Yeah, hon, I like the flying ones too. Shame I have to shoot them so often. But now you've given me a way to ride them, I think! Thanks!

...ofuck here it comes.

Nope. Nope. NOPE.

I cannot watch this-- yeahno. That one second I could not watch.

Okay, something else tonally shifting is going to happen at this point because this is a Game Over otherwise--

Oh. FINALLY you picked a fucking side, Tilda.

Okay... The fuck?

I want to know how the frames are such a mess but the oil paintings themselves are moderately intact. I also want to know why I'm bothering looking at these things. For the dialogue, I guess, but in my head it's Aloy deliberately stalling while she gets her feet back under her, metaphorically speaking, because I'm generally more given to patience than Aloy and I want to run up there and shake that woman.

.........Oooooooooooooh so that's what that building near the Tideripper site on the coast is...

So ... you looked at everything on my Focus, decided you wanted to help me, and you still thought it was a good idea to stick with a plan that involved me letting an entire tribe get wiped out?!? Lady, you're something like a thousand years old and have had so much time to learn so much and you're still thick as mince.

Ah, Chekov's Data Channel, thank you.

"That's between me and my sister". YES! I feel a little better now! ...not much, mind you.

Also, I really liked, "First, I have to lay a friend to rest". I knew it. I knew it. Damnit, that didn't stop me from tearing up, though.

So Beta has her Rost ... and her Elizabet. And we have a plan that isn't going to destroy the tribe I've been spending over a hundred hours saving. And I am going to shake Sylens like a fucking maraca. Though I like that Aloy knows Sylens well enough that the best way of handling him is to find out what he wants and then take away every other option for getting it so that he's forced to follow our plan. She learns.

Right. What's next? ...Probably a fair bit more cutscene. Because if Varl doesn't get at least a short cutscene for a damn funeral, and if I don't get to comfort Zo, I am going to find the writers and I am going to give them a lecture about narrative aftercare. Torture your audience all you want, but provide aftercare, damnit.

So if it's going to be more cutscene, I should probably take a break and hit the corner shop for snacks or something. I should probably wash my face first, though. Not that I'm ashamed of crying over fiction, but I can't explain to the nice guys who run my corner shop that no, I'm just crying over the death of a fictional character.

That is two characters in two months that I have had die on me. My favourites are problematic.

[joysparked]

“You know what? You can’t focus on what’s going wrong. There’s always a way to turn things around—to find the fun!”  

( x )

Name: Joy Kim Nicknames: N/A Age: 24 Height: 5′6” Sexuality: Asexual Occupation: Life coach

• Joy’s parents like to say that while most babies come out crying, she was born laughing. Whether that’s actually possible or not, they named her after what she immediately was (and still is) to them—a bundle of joy. In fact, bringing happiness to others is so inherent to her being that it manifests in the form of a special ability she didn’t learn was magical in nature until she was a bit older.

• With intention, she is able to boost other people’s moods, giving them a sense of happiness and excitement. It’s something she’d always done, purposely or not, because it’s almost so much more fun to see a smile than a frown, and she’ll stick by that! Nowadays she uses the ability liberally in her work as a life coach to give her clients the motivation to chase their goals and see the bright side of any set-backs that might otherwise discourage them.

• When Joy was still very little, her parents adopted another girl into their family, Serenity. Though Serenity—Ren as she called her—was two years older than her, Joy understood even at that age that she was responsible for making her sister feel welcome in the family. The only problem with that was the fact that Ren, despite all of Joy’s best efforts, was always so withdrawn.

• Ren didn’t like the same stories or the same activities that Joy did, and it is difficult to have a playmate who won’t play, or a companion who always focuses on the dark clouds rather than their silver linings. It wasn’t until they discovered that Serenity’s general sadness wasn’t the result of an illness that could be cured or treated, but based in a supernatural empathic origin, that the family realized Joy’s lifelong talent for cheering up was rather the flip-side of the same coin.

• It was eye-opening to think that they might never have known Joy’s own power was magical (rather than the simple result of a sunny disposition) if they hadn’t been trying to fix what was “wrong” with Serenity. Though their powers are two halves of a whole, only one is seen as negative. Despite learning throughout their years of sisterhood that there is cathartic value in the release and expression of sadness, Joy still struggles to this day between understanding and respecting Ren’s situation versus feeling like the constant wallowing is unhealthy.

• Because she does feel responsible for her sister—and knowing how her empathic abilities work in the way of absorbing others’ sorrows—Joy has never really let herself linger on any negative emotion, not wanting to make Serenity’s mood any worse than it is at a given time. As long as she sees the good in any situation, she can keep a positive, upbeat attitude and not let any unhappiness rub off on Ren. This has carried over in her interactions with everyone she meets; she just wants everyone to be as happy as possible, as much as possible.

• Perhaps they were drawn together by fate because of their magic, as the girls soon enough found more friends who had similar abilities yet focused on different emotions: fear, disgust, anger. The whole group is full of such wildly different personalities that they might clash at times as strongly as Joy and Ren have over the years, but variety is the spice of life and something holds them all together despite potential disagreements or differences of opinion…Maybe Joy fancying herself a leader and wrangling them all together, even if it feels like herding cats at times. Still, she wouldn’t trade them for anything!

• Aside from them, Joy’s best friends in the world are Riley Anderson and Bentley Bong. They were her first childhood friends and thus her longest, although she fell out of touch with Bento for a while when his parents forced him to focus on acting. She loved his movies, but she loves his presence even more, so when he came back into her life seeking guidance in his desire to escape from the grasp of child stardom, she was delighted to offer her life-coaching expertise free of charge.

• As for Riley, Joy feels such affection for them that it’s almost maternal, despite not being older than them. In fact, they both have the same birthday! Joy likes to think they were born to be best friends. In a way, that’s probably true—in the same manner that she, her sister and all of their emotion-based-powered friends are drawn together, Riley’s own magic seems to have a powerful effect on all of them, strengthening their individual abilities. They all feel very protective over Riley, as she’s the baby of the group and best of all of them.

[official-kenralie-fanbase]

oralie and bronte hcs?

One word: YES.

Bronte won't admit it to anyone but her, but the two of them are best friends

He gives really good hugs, but Oralie is the only one who knows it

She is pretty much the only person who can approach Bronte without direct invitation and not receive a scowl

They get together once a week to gossip about their coworkers.

Oralie's a coffee drinker and Bronte's a tea drinker and they've had many arguments about which is the superior drink

When Oralie joined the Council, Bronte kind of took her under his wing and helped her get adjusted. He would badmouth a lot of the other Councillors to her, so Oralie thought the entire Council hated each other, but no, it was just Bronte

Bronte was one of the only people who didn't underestimate her right off the bat.

In fact, he's never thought of her as weak or fragile. He knows that a lot of her strength goes unnoticed and he'll give her opportunities the other Councillors won't give her

He's also the only one who noticed as Oralie's relationship with Kenric began to evolve from enemies to friends to something more

He confronted Kenric about it, warning him that if he broke her heart, there would be consequences

But then he realized that Oralie really did love Kenric

And he did whatever he could to keep their secret

On the outside, he acts all sick of their nonsense, but he really does care about their relationship.

He tried to convince the two of them to leave the Council. Over the years he's seen a lot of relationships ruined because of the law, but they're both so stubborn they wouldn't leave despite how much Bronte tried to convince them.

When Kenric died, he mostly tried to give Oralie space. With all of the drama at and after Kenric's funeral, the thing she needed the most was time and space to heal.

But then a few days later she showed up at his house late at night, telling him that she couldn't sleep and needed someone to talk to.

Bronte was surprised, but he invited her in and noticed how tired she was, how pale and sick she looked.

He began asking her how she was doing with all this when Oralie just... broke.

Up until that point, she had tried not to cry too much around her coworkers, especially once the funeral had already taken place and Alina had been elected.

But that day, seeing Alina move into the house Kenric had once lived in, seeing Alina at the window Kenric had sat at when they'd both been at their windows pantomiming ridiculous messages to one another, it just really hit her what she'd lost.

And right there, sitting on Bronte's couch, she finally lost it.

Bronte awkwardly patted her back and let her sob into his shoulder, hoping he wasn't just making it worse for her.

But a few minutes later Oralie looked up with tear-stained eyes and told him thank you for just being there for her.

Their relationship was different after that. They'd always been friends, but after sharing something like that, they were closer than before. They were each other's only friend, and often comforted one another in the chaos that would unfold.

When they became Sophie's contacts on Team Valiant and had that strange conversation about her biological parents, Bronte began to realize something was off.

It was only when Sophie accused Bronte of being her biological father and Oralie had an interesting reaction that Bronte went wAiT a SeCoNd

He confronted her about it after Loamnore and Oralie finally admitted the truth

At first, Bronte was really upset with her. Why would she risk so much for a morally ambiguous project by a rebel group?

But as he began to realize her reasons and her justification, he understood why she'd done it, even if he didn't exactly agree with her

And he knew he'd have to stick by her side, now more than ever

They will defend each other and fight for one another to the bitter end, which is going to make things really difficult when Oralie's secret is revealed

Oh and Oralie has 100% given Bronte multiple makeovers which is why he sympathized so much with Sophie in Legacy

[erodasfishtacos]

Acting Up (mini blurb)

thanks sm to Sarah who generously donated to my ko fi. she requested a blurb about mlbrry going to get ice cream as a family so here you go! with a little harry in DAD mode.

—

It was a hot night and the kids were a bit stir-crazy, so was eight-month pregnant YN in the house while Harry had been traveling to play.

“Mama, what’d y’want?” Harry murmurs, hand rubbing her bump as they wait with one hand as he has Ezra propped on his hip on the other side.

“Everything sounds so good,” She groans as she looks over the menu, pregnancy hunger was a real thing.

Her bump was bigger than any of her other pregnancy and she was quite miserable - though trying to make the best out of it.

“I’ll buy y’the whole menu,” Her husband replies as he reviews the menu board in front of them as well.

“Then I’ll be as big as house,” YN quips, hands running through Cash’s curly locks as he hugs her leg

“Just more f’me to love on,” He hums happily, moving to grope her bum a bit until she smacks his off with an eye roll.

He sees out of the corner of his eye his oldest taunting his middle child with goofy faces.

“Easton, enough,” Harry scolds as he sees Cash’s eyebrows furrow as he gets frustrated with his older brother.

Six and four - what an age.

The oldest stops at the firm tone of his father, huffing and giving his brother a dirty look before moving to stand next to his dad.

When they arrive at the order window, a teenage boy steps over to greet them, his mouth drops open as he sees who it is.

“Y-you’re Harry S-Styles,” The kid stutters, his face flushing red and his eyes wide as he stares at the celebrity.

Harry smiles kindly with a chuckle, “I am. Are you fan? Pleasure to meet you.”

“Daddy, why does he know your name?” Cash asked in confusion as he peeks around his father’s leg.

“‘cause he plays babeball, stupid,” Easton replies with an attitude towards his brother.

“Mama!” Cash shrieks offendly.

YN sighs, cupping Harry’s hand on her belly for moment, “Order me a banana split with peanut butter and extra strawberry. I’m going to go talk to East.”

YN pulls Easton to an empty table with enough room for the five of them and also to accommodate her belly.

“Why are you picking on your brother?” YN uses her mom mode voice as she watches her son pout out his lip.

“He stole my dolphin stuffie earlier!”

Of course.

“Is that the proper way to treat him though?” YN questions directly, tilting his chin up so she can make eye contact.

“No mama,” Easton mumbles, struggling to keep his mother’s gaze.

“Will you say sorry to him when he comes over?” YN encourages.

He agrees, lisps out an apology before Harry hands him a bowl of chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.

After a few minutes, YN winces and stands from the table, a hand going to rest of her back.

“What’s wrong, mama?” Harry asks with concern laced in his tone. He was currently feeding Ezra little bits of strawberry that was dripping down his chin.

“Just my back is achey, I’m just going to stand and eat,” She grumbles, shifting her weight side-to-side as she takes small bites of her banana split.

“Stop it!” Easton whines when Cash sticks his finger into his older brothers bowl and submerges it in his ice cream.

“Cash,” Harry states, reaching for his middle son’s arm “Get y’hand out of your brother’s food, right now.”

Cash listens but snickers when he realizes he’s managed to annoy Easton.

When Harry looks back to his wife, he then hears Cash shouting, “No!”

The parents look back to see Easton with chocolate ice cream as his nice white shirt and Cash with a sticky hand of melted dessert.

“Cash!” YN scolds on frustration, they were really usually good with each other but today was not their day.

She sits down her food to rustled through the diaper bag for wipes. She cleans off Cash’s hands with a pointed stare as Harry reaches over to clean up Easton.

“You’re done,” Harry tells Cash firmly, picking up his son’s bowl that he hadn’t finished and dumping it in the garbage. “Y’don’t get ice cream if y’just goin’ to throw it.”

That sends the middle one into a meltdown and it makes it even worse when Easton taunts, “No more for you!”

It has Cash standing up and darting around the table but Easton sees him and gets up to bolt away from his grasps.

“Stop running right now,” Harry raises his voice, groaning when Ezra starts to whimper at the chaos and holds on to Harry tighter.

“Boys! Listen to your fa-“

Easton darts around his mother but Cash isn’t as agile yet and knocks right into the front of her calves causing her banana split to drop out of her hands and for her to stumble.

“Baby!” Harry panics, instantly moving forward to grab her arm and pulls her towards him so she tumbles into his chest instead of backwards.

“Oh my god,” YN whimpers, her breathing becoming quicker as her heart rate spikes from the scare, hands coming to her bump.

The boys are frozen still were they’re at. Eyes wide and tears welling at the fear their mother got hurt by them

“Mama, y’alright? Sweetheart, I know Y’got scared. Breathe for me,” Harry soothes more worried about his wife than scolding his kids.

“If I would have fallen,” YN is tearing up, anxiety spiking through her chest at the thought of the baby getting hurt.

Harry is breathing heavier than he’d like to admit too.

“Don’t cry, s’okay. The baby is perfect, y’keeing them so nice and safe, bein’ a perfect mama,” He assures her, kissing her temple and brushing away a tear.

Ezra is distressed too, of course the sensitive little boy is, chanting, “mommy, mommy, mommy.”

She clears her throat, smiling softly at her youngest boy, “M’okay, Ezzie. It’s all okay.”

“Mama, hold me,” Ezra begs, reaching out his arms to be switched to his mother but Harry holds him tight and shakes his head ‘no.’

“Not right now baby. Mommy doesn’t feel very good,” YN tells him, chest still pounding, back still aching.

And when their youngest starts sobbing, screaming that he wants his mother, well...YN starts feel overwhelmed by her two olders ones who are whimpering because they know they’re in trouble and Ezra tantruming.

“Sweetheart,” Harry can tell by the tears bubbling up along her waterline what’s going on, “Baby, y’okay. What do y’need?”

YN sucks in a deep breath, gathering her thoughts for a moment, “I just need a minute alone. You can have Easton and Ezra finish their ice cream. Then come after you’re done.”

“I can do that,” Harry replies sadly, he couldn’t stand seeing his wife upset or scared - it was one of the worst feelings for him.

When YN grabs the car keys and leaves towards the car, Ezra settles as soon as he’s being fed ice cream again. The boys hesitantly go back to their seats across from their dad.

Harry knows they’re young. They don’t understand what it would mean if they knocked their heavily pregnant mother over but it doesn’t mean aggravation isn’t running through him at the two. 

“Daddy...” Easton sniffles cautiously, kicking his feet under the table as his chest shutters.

“Yes?” Harry answers calmly, looking up from Ezra to meet his son’s gaze - the same green eyes staring back at him.

“Do you and mommy hate us?” His oldest asks as he wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“No, mama and I love you two with all our hearts. But daddy is very upset with you two right now, do you understand why?” 

They both nod in agreement that they do.

“Why are we upset?” Harry prompts as he takes a wet wipe to rubs over Ezra’s strawberry stained face.

“Cause we made mommy almost fall,” Cash lisps shamefully.

Harry nods, “And we tell you very often that we have to be careful with mama because she’s got a baby in her belly and we have t’keep the baby safe.”

“Are we in trouble?” Easton voice is still quiver with his guilt.

“I’ll have t’talk to y’mom but if it happens again, y’both are goin’ to be in a lot of trouble and y’gonna get a consequence. Do you understand that too?” 

They nod in unison. Easton hadn’t touched his ice cream again, gets up to throw it away as he loiters - looking towards the car where his mother is sitting away from them.

Cash gets up to but slowly walks around the table to his father. 

“M’sorry daddy,” He squeaks tearfully, moving forward and digging his face into Harry’s bicep.

“Cash,” Harry soothes, grasps his son lightly under the chin, “I love you very much, okay? We just can’t do things like that. Y’need to listen to daddy and mama.”

He nods in understanding before crawling up into his father’s lap, right next to Ezra - who gives him an affronted glare when he realizes he has to share space with him.

When they’re done and Harry has let enough time past, he walks the little group of boys toward their SUV.

He opens the passenger side door where YN is reclined a bit, hand on her stomach and the air-conditioner blasting cold air on her face.

“The boys have somethin’ t’say,” Harry smiles softly, leaning over to give his wife a quick kiss.

“M’sorry mama,” Cash whispers.

“Me too, mommy,” Easton adds on.

“I forgive you both. You just have to be careful with me. You’re sibling is in here and we have to keep them nice and healthy, right? I love you two more than anything.”

-

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right.