#But I don’t think that is a wise decision considering how panicked I am

[shepherdbarks]

Help a disabled trans man out with his groceries

Hiiii, if you’re a follower of mine you’ve probably seen my constant stream of posts talking about the financial situation I’ve been in recently. I lost ANOTHER job after having a ptsd flashback/episode and now I can barely afford my cost of living. Honestly it is comical how fucked up everything has been. (if I didn’t laugh, I would cry)

Luckily, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to go back to my old job this week. I’m not completely sure how it is going to work out though. I am currently being treated for cptsd, but I still suffer from episodes. The whole reason I left that particular work environment was because of a completely separate ptsd episode (yay service industry). These episodes + the stressors make it very difficult for me to work in social settings so overall I am just. Really afraid of my future.

In a perfect world, I would love to take some time off and get these panic episodes under control, but I just can’t afford it right now. My bank account is literally empty after paying rent. I can’t afford groceries for this week and I’m freaking out. I know that I’ve been asking for a lot lately, but if anyone would like to commission me or donate a couple bucks, I would highly appreciate it. Literally anything would help right now.

Cashapp

Venmo

[rlmartian]

Okay so your post about the circlet/band thingies that wukong and Nezha wear? I just had a thought

Okay so we all know that wukong is perfectly fine with and actively promotes himself as a dangerous menace to society, right? Right. And he met Nezha when he was still pretty young, and they eventually became friends because of that mutual reputation of being dangerous menaces to society

So! What if somewhere in their friendship Nezha wanted to stop being seen as a menace or, if you will, a Demon Child. By, oh I don’t know, using the same thing that kept the monkey king’s power in check. Idk tho just a thought. And what if, somewhere in that plan, Wukong found out and tried to make that not happen, in wukongs own special way of course (badly), resulting in Nezhas dislike of Wukong today!

I AM A GENIUS AND A SCHOLAR

ok but why is this actually genius. Because of course Nezha would do that he’s such a self sacrificing idiot. In other media like Nezha(birth of the demon child) he’s openly portrayed as a menace. Why isn’t he a menace now? One he probably got tired of the bad reputation, and his rep was probably even shittier becuse of his association with wukong. This in turn probably planted the seeds of resentment and frustration towards wukong in Nezha’s view. And then Nezha like the self sacrificing idiot he is tries to use the objects that controlled the great monkey king to prove his controlled and not a menace. And everyone in the celestial realm are kind of assholes so they either don’t bother to help or encourage him telling him it’s a difficult but wise decision to make. And eventually wu kong hears about this but doesn’t get the full story. He bursts in just as they finish and attacks the people there people nezha considers tentative friends and they run away. Wukong rushes in panicking trying to get the bands off acting like he’s worried and nezha blows up(maybe literally with fire). For all he knows wukong just attacked him and his friends probably ruining some of the only relationships he’s had in the celestial realm and sullying the reputation further. Wukong thinks he’s saving Nezha and Nezha things Wukong is trying to ruin what he has because he’s jealous. Fight ensues and they argue a bunch. Wukong expresses how he was only trying to help and Nezha screams that he didn’t need help because this is what he wanted. Wukong says he’s not in his right mind and that’s the final straw. In a burst of power he destroys the bands and fights Wukong. He wins (mostly because Wukong has his bands still on and is in shock from the whole situation.) Nezha tells him to leave and never come back .As the celestial armies start to circle them Wukong fleas. To add a cherry of suffering and resentment on top of the milkshake Nezha was one of the only friends that Wukong was still good with after the brotherhood and macaque left him. And for Nezha after the journey to the west and Wukong proving he was good since they were in bad standing was scorned and looked down on more than before. Once again he was falling, and it was Wukongs fault.

just some food for thought :) if you have any questions feel free to ask

Notes/Answered questions: Why was Nezha able to break the bands in battle when Wukong couldn’t break his circlet? Simple The only reason Nezha was able to break his is because he needed to access his full power and his only intention to use that full power was too help protect the celestial realm to the fullest extent aiding it and spinning the web of manipulation further without them having to lift a finger.

Why was Wukong able to come in in the first place? Jade emperor and higher ups allowed it because they planned to use nezha in the future and place him in a powerful and influential role. Putting him against what they currently see as the celestial realms biggest threat was a good move and it wouldn’t do if they had a good relationship. Why did the jade emperor not do anything after Nezha started to fall out of Grace, when the Journey to the West finished? He still sees Wukong as a threat and believes he can, and we’ll go rouge any moment.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

An Unfortunate Predicament

Warnings: tickling, fluff, maybe a little bit of reader crushing on a certain Asgardian

Word count: 2600

Honestly not sure where this came from, but I've dumped this silly idea out of my head and into this fic. Hopefully you find it amusing.

* * *

For the life of you, you don’t know how you ended up in this position.

Well, you do know how you got up here, at least. Tony had announced that he had a ropes course installed in the tower (for ‘additional training opportunities’ he insisted, although you all knew he just wanted an excuse to watch you all fall flat on your faces when you missed a step). Many of the Avengers were eager to try it out, especially Thor and Peter, who had giddily shoved their way to the front of the line to be the first to attempt the course.

You, on the other hand, had hung back from the group. You were afraid of heights, and while this ropes course wasn’t more than 6 or 7 feet off the ground, and there were soft rubbery mats underneath to break your fall should you slip, you couldn’t bring yourself to try it. Especially not in front of your teammates. No one knew about this little fear of yours, and you preferred to keep it that way to avoid being teased for being the only Avenger afraid of heights.

After a week or so, once the novelty had worn off for the rest of the team, you started to consider if maybe practicing on the course might help you to learn to get past this silly phobia. On a few occasions, you had casually made your way down to the gym where the ropes course was housed under the pretense of looking for someone, when really you were scoping it out to see if the room was unoccupied. Every time you tried, though, there was inevitably someone either practicing on the course or otherwise using some of the other gym equipment in the room. You much preferred that no one was there to witness you attempt it for the first time just in case you started to panic when you started to climb up that first rope ladder.

This morning, the other Avengers had disembarked on a mission before you had woken up for the day. This particular mission had no requirement for your talents, so you were able to stay behind and take a much-needed day to yourself. After lounging in bed for much of the morning, the notion crossed your mind that the gym would be completely and definitively empty for the afternoon.

And so, you made your way down to the gym and started slowly climbing up the ladder to the first platform. Once you reached the top and stood up, you looked down at the floor and felt your stomach drop just a bit. However, you steeled yourself and continued on across the swinging rope bridge in front of you. After a few obstacles, you had finally started to feel your fear start to ebb away as you became accustomed to the view. You started moving more quickly across the obstacles, now trying to see how fast you could get through the entire course.

Unfortunately, your rushing ended up being your downfall. You were crawling across a rope net to get to the next platform when suddenly you felt the net start to tip to the side. Normally, the purpose of the obstacle would have been to continue climbing upside down until you reached the other side. However, you had panicked at the sudden motion, stiffening as the net rolled over. Your leg slipped through one of the holes of the net, and somehow it twisted around your ankle enough to hold it in place while the rest of your body continued to flip over.

And now, here you were, hanging upside-down from this ropes course with your leg tangled in the net, blood rushing to your head as you tried to process what just happened. Your head was much closer to the ground now, at least, but it wasn’t quite close enough for you to reach the floor with your hands to try to gain leverage to untangle yourself. You tried to lift your upper body up in a sort of 180-degree sit-up to attempt to untangle your ankle from the net, but the rope was too taut for you to loosen it enough to pull your leg out. Frustrated, you relaxed your aching abdominal muscles and let yourself hang there, realizing with dread in the pit of your stomach that there was no one else in the compound to come help you escape.

Figuring you would have better luck getting yourself unhooked if you allowed yourself some time to rest, you let yourself just hang there and took a few deep breaths. Just as you were mustering up the strength to try again, a voice from the doorway caused you to jump in surprise.

“Well now. What an unfortunate predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.”

No. Oh no. Literally anyone else could have walked in and you’d have felt some relief, that someone was going to help you get down from this trap. Why did it have to be Loki?

“Shut up,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest in an attempt to look annoyed despite your inverted position. “You could just help me down from here, you know.”

“I certainly could. But where would be the fun in that?” Loki strolled into the room, coming to a stop just a foot away from you. From this angle, you had to look down (or, rather, up) slightly to see his face, as your head hung at just about his shoulder level.

“What’s so fun about standing here and watching me hang upside-down?” you retorted. “Suppose I enjoy this?”

“If you did, you wouldn’t have just asked me to help you down, now would you?” Loki started to pace in a slow circle around you, forcing you to twist your neck and torso to be able to keep an eye on him. You knew better than to turn your back on the trickster by now. “Besides – if I recall, it was you who stole all of my books last week and hid them throughout the tower, hmm?”

You snickered at that. It was totally worth it to watch Loki storming around the tower, grumbling as he emptied drawers and crawled on the floor to look under furniture in hopes he would find his books. Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t tried to prank you in return yet, but you had a feeling it was coming. Although, it seemed you had put yourself in just the position for him to exact his revenge without having to think of a prank.

“Oh yes, I’m sure you thought it was amusing then,” he growled, pacing back around in front of you and leaning down so his face was inches from yours as he glared at you. “You realize, I hope, that the others will not be back for at least another four hours?”

“What? I thought they were supposed to be home in an hour!” you exclaimed. Loki smirked.

“They are running a bit late. Ran into some minor complications during the mission. They should be leaving to head home in about an hour.”

You groaned at this revelation. You knew they were a three-hour plane ride away, and so if Loki was telling the truth, you would be dangling upside down for quite some time unless you convinced him to help you. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed your pride and started to plead.

“Loki… I’m sorry about your books, really. Please, could you help me get down?” you begged. His smirk only grew wider at this.

“You must be truly desperate, darling, to already be begging for me to help you,” he chuckled. You felt heat prickle in your cheeks, partially from embarrassment at having gotten yourself into this situation and partially from the unexpected thrill that rushed through your chest at the slow, smooth tone of his voice as he taunted you.

“If I admit it, will you finally help me get down?” you bartered, ready for this interaction to end so you could go hide in your room for the rest of the night in complete humiliation.

“Hmm. That certainly would help your case, but I’ll need a bit more than that,” he countered.

“Ugh, like what?” Loki thought for a moment, touching a finger to his chin.

“Admit that I am the superior prankster in the tower,” he demanded, “and that you never stood a chance against the all-mighty god of mischief. AND-“ he added, cutting you off as you opened your mouth to protest, “you have to say this to all of the Avengers when they return.”

“Ok, first of all, you know they’ll know you’re making me say it, so where’s the fun in it for you?” you quipped.

“I know. I also know how much embarrassment it will still cause you to have to say it out loud.” His smirk was practically wicked by this point.

“Alright, but suppose it does embarrass me that much - even if I agree to it, how do you know I won’t just go back on my word once you get me down?” you retorted.

“If you do, I will put you right back where I found you, and someone else will have to get you down,” he opposed. Your eyes widened, then narrowed indignantly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“We both know you know I would.”

“You are insufferable, you know that?” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Fine. I’ll do it. Just get me down.”

“A wise decision,” he declared. Loki stepped underneath the net and inspected the rope wrapped around your ankle. He reached up and tugged on it a bit to test how much give it would provide. “The rope is wound too tightly for me to unwind it,” he observed.

“Well, can’t you get me down some other way then?”

“I think if I lift you up enough that your weight isn’t holding the rope taut, you should be able to slip out of it,” he suggested. You nodded, willing to try anything at this point. He reached up and grabbed hold of your waist just above your hips, causing you to jerk involuntarily and let out a high-pitched squeak. You felt your stomach drop again, the same way it had when you’d first climbed up onto the ropes course, when you saw Loki’s expression morph from confusion to pure mischief.

“Wh-what are you giving me that look for?” you asked hesitantly, reaching up absentmindedly to pull your shirt down where a sliver of skin had been showing.

“Because I just learned something new about you, and I don’t think I’m quite ready to help you down just yet,” he explained, his tone ominous.

“Don’t… you… dare,” you growled.

“Darling, I don’t believe you’re in a position to be making threats,” he retorted, starting to pace around you again.

“Loki! Get back here where I can see yOU!” Your voice pitched up an octave as you felt him tweak your side. “I swear to god, Loki, I will hold you down and beat you senselehehehess!” You lost your composure as you felt ten slender fingers gently scratching at your sides just below your ribcage.

“You don’t sound very threatening, love,” Loki teased, working his torturous fingers up between your lower ribs. You couldn’t respond coherently anymore, batting at his hands and twisting around violently trying to escape his touch. “Maybe you should try again, but this time with a bit more malice in your tone.”

“I will kihihihill you!” you shrieked, uncontrollable giggles spilling from your mouth as his fingers traveled to your belly, his thumbs digging into your sides. Being upside-down, in addition to not being able to see his face with him standing behind you, made you feel incredibly exposed. You reached down and grasped both of his wrists, tugging as hard as you could to pull his hands away from your ticklish torso to no avail.

Loki thankfully paced back around in front of you, continuing to tickle you with one hand as he walked. You realized this was actually probably worse than when he was behind you because now you could see his amused expression, and you knew he could see the flustered flushing of your face. You tried your hardest to shoot him a menacing glare, which only succeeded in drawing a laugh from him as he latched both hands onto your upper ribs and continued to tickle you with renewed vigor.

“OK! OK! WAIHIHIT LOKI! I CAHAHAN’T!” you pleaded as he slipped his thumbs under your arms, his fingers wrapped around the back of your uppermost ribs and digging into your skin in the most agonizing way. You were thrashing violently now trying to evade his fingers, not noticing the rope looped around your ankle slipping.

The next thing you knew, your ankle slid out of the rope net above you, and you came crashing to the floor. Or, rather, you came crashing down onto Loki, who then crashed to the floor under the impact.

Relieved that at least he was no longer tickling you, you gasped for breath and pushed yourself up onto your hands. You heart skipped when you realized that your nose was practically touching his, but the shock caused your muscles to freeze. For a moment, Loki didn’t move either, looking straight into your eyes.

You finally regained your composure, deciding to play it off as if you’d found a way to beat him at his own game to hide the fact that your heart was pounding in your throat at the close contact. You grinned wickedly down at him.

“Looks like I got myself down, didn’t I?” you quipped. “Guess I don’t have to lie and say you’re the best prankster after all.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, which should have been your cue to get up, but before you realized it he had grabbed your arms and flipped you so he was now hovering over you. You looked up at him, bewildered, as he smirked evilly back at you.

“Oh darling, that was a mistake.” You jolted as his fingers once again made contact with your ribcage, unable to control the hysterical laughter bubbling from your chest as he dug his fingertips into every ticklish spot he could find. You kicked and scrambled to try to scoot away from him without success, his hands darting rapidly between your sides, belly, underarms, ribs, back to your belly…

“ALRIGHT! W-WAIT! S-STOP! I’LL SAY IT!” you begged, your muscles so weak from laughter now you could no longer fight back, lying there on the floor as he drove you into madness. At long last, he finally released you, moving away to kneel on the floor beside you. “Jeez, Loki… that was… that was evil,” you huffed, still breathless from his malicious attack.

“Maybe next time you’ll know not to mess with the god of mischief,” he warned, offering you a hand to help you sit up. “After all – now I know your weakness.” You blushed furiously, wrapping your arms subconsciously around your ribs as he deviously wiggled his fingers at you. Ready to finally go hide in your room, you picked yourself off the ground and started walking toward the door. “Don’t forget! I expect to see you in the common room when the others arrive home this evening!” he called after you. You turned and shot him one last glare before leaving the room.

You couldn’t make any promises that you’d actually show up. And if that meant he would come find you and torment you some more… well, you supposed you maybe wouldn’t mind.

Read part 2

[perriwinklesblog]

I know some people prefer consistent content but I like to take it as it comes and sometimes life happens and other projects need to take priority. 

So right now, I consider this to be a mid season break. Techno going into the prison was like the midseason finale for the Dream Prison Arc and Wilbur and Ranboo’s stuff was like their midseason finale and the Red Banquet where the egg was contained, was a midseason finale and alllllllll the mini episodes we’ve had since there are like specials etc. 

You know, like how in Dr Who you can go a few years without a solid season but get a special at Christmas and New Year? You know like that. 

So like all other programs, stories, videos I watch, I am coming up with ways in which the next bit could go. Some are a bit out there and definitely not happening, others I could see happening. 

This is long and pointless and full or errors both grammatically and spelling wise but I had fun thinking of what could happen next. Read if you want.

Dream escapes prison with Technoblades help. A server wide man hunt comes for Dream but unlike his videos he had stolen the spare armour in the prison and so is pretty OP making it easier for him to put distance between his enemies and himself. 

Technoblade returns to the artic and him, Phil and Will come to an in pass, a slight disagreement. Philza whilst having sided with Dream before, knows he’s not a good guy. Only used him to help destroy lmanburg for his own morals. It was not because he agreed with Dream. In his eyes, he was using Dream for his own goals. Plus, now he’s seen the aftermath of Dream’s terror on the citizens he realises the man perhaps shouldn’t be set to run entirely free. This slightly goes against Techno’s beliefs but the main issue of tension between them is Technoblade willingly placing himself in danger when he didn’t need too and helping release the man who tortured Tommy and clearly has something going on with Ranboo thats bad. 

Wilbur is angry because Techno won’t say where Dream has gone due to an agreement between the two and Technoblade is a man of his word. Wilbur wishes to thank and meet the man who saved him. This also worries Philza because he’s worried he’ll revert back to the man he saw the day he blew up L’Manburg. Over all tension between the three

Niki and Wilbur finally meet and it is as heartbreaking as it is beautifully tragic. Wilbur apologises but misses the mark, misses what hurt her which hurts her more. There’s an explosion with their argument that leaves a stunned silence. Niki asks Wilbur to leave. He does so. 

This leads to a Wilbur and Ranboo conversation where Ranboo tries to reason with Wilbur about Niki’s side. Wilbur brushes it off because much like the blue counterpart we all miss, he’s not a fan of the negative emotion. He tries to focus on the business etc and let’s slip that Dream has escaped somehow. Ranboo leaves. Wilbur is confused but distracted by a confrontation with Quackity.

Ranboo then starts his stream and he’s in the fucking panic room and he’s panicking because there are signs so many signs and they don’t make sense. Theres lesson rules, asking about the missing journal and it’s like every issue he’s ever faced is staring right back at him because Ranboo has never really resolved any issue, just pushed and moved on. He’s tried but that usually failed and for a while he’s ignored all the issues and here they are in front of him, all at one. A big volcanic eruption of anxiety and stress, and it ain’t sitting with him. 

Dream appears. But is it really him? We never know because after a conflict and a back and fourth about everyone in Ranboo’s life eventually landing on a threat about Michael and Tubbo, he blacks out and the stream ends. 

Quackity is livid with everything thats happening, the careful empire he’s building is falling apart and he’s shifting the blame around from person to person. He manipulates everyone around them into believing this is somehow their own fault and that they must make it up to him because he has been nothing but kind and loving to them. He gave them a place, a roof on their head when they had nothing. He misses out the parts where he insulted and or destroyed their homes, but it works and his employee “family” become the main bounty hunters for Dream, with Bad and Ant tagging along since they’re guards. 

Now the streams relating to the manhunt displays everyones wants. They’re all doing this wanting something, and whilst it’s to gain Quackity’s favour back they’re all doing that for different reasons. Their motivations are somewhat different even if on the surface they are the same and so on the man hunts, because there will be many, this is slowly picked apart and through that the manipulation of Quackity is revealed and then we see a parrallel between Quackity and previous people in power where they start to get desperate to keep control over the thing they’ve created. Because that’s been one of (not the only) issues with every leader on the server, the control and their feeling of lack of, even if thats not truly the case. But you get these moments between all the characters where they’re trying to outwit one another, trying to figure it out without blatantly saying it. Maybe Foolish does. He’s a bit of a himbo. 

Ponk always said he’d leave the door open for Sam and I truly think something happens, whether it be a look in the mirror with one of his guards going too far with someone or a conversation with Quackity where Quackity holds the mirror up to Sam maliciously, that causes him to hit the rock bottom and just break and I want that breakdown in front of Ponk. And I want Ponk not necessarily to give him the second chance off the bat but give him that peace offering, give him that hand to pull him up. I want him to take Sam to Niki and explain to Niki we’ve done bad things in the past, this is a safe haven and I believe Sam needs help and a place he can truly feel safe and for a moment Sam does and this begins his raid to redemption in gaining back the trust of the people in his lives. He becomes Tubbo 2.0 spying on Quackity like Tubbo did for Wilbur, but maybe less... bad.

But what of the Fiances? Wellllll,. With Dream escaping him and George meet in secret. George confesses he doesn’t believe it’s real and for a long time has been struggling with reality. He misses the early days, misses when they’d just have fun. Dream says he was having fun and George says I wasn’t. Dream shows true regret for George but says its too late now, can’t change the past. George agrees. Dream asks him what he’s going to do and he simply replies with “Sleep” Ending stream. 

Sapanps stream is a lot more WE ARE GOING ON A DREAM HUNT WE’RE GOING TO CATCH A BIG ONE, I’M NOT SCARED. vibes. He’s gearing up, he’s suiting up and he’s saluting pets on the way. He made a promise and with everything else going on in his life, he’s ready to throw himself into a distraction. He tries to convince George to help him but he waves him off saying, what’s the point? and mumbles something about divine powers and dreams which Sapnap just shakes off. He tries to find Karl in Kinoko but instead comes across Quackity. They have a blow up about how They abandoned each other, both did wrong but neither see the other side of things and eventually he tells him to leave. Quackity says okay, and the place blows up. Foolish cries in the corner. All that heard work but the boss said so. Sapnap ends the whole thing saying at least he’s there for Karl and Quackity pauses and is like why? And Sapnap is all like you care. Just go, you’ve done enough damage, I can’t have you damaging him too. And after a little more but but but between the two, Quackity goes. Sapnap leaves the place to burn, going to find Dream and hopefully Karl on the way. 

Karls in space. That’s where his latest travels have taken him and where the other side decided was his time to visit. Here I see a Wizard in Oz scenario where solutions to some issues will be revealed for Karl in relation to the other side. When it comes to his Dream SMP stuff, he starts confusing names and people more and Sapnap is worried about him, considering keeping him in a safe place. The only place that survived was the library with Karls books. Karl says he’ll stay there. Thats where the answers are anyway. Sapnap is unsure and gets bad vibes but is distracted by a lead on Dream and agrees, he tells him he’ll be back soon. 

They don’t see each other for a long ass time 

I’m not sure on the egg stuff but I do feel Niki and Puffy should have a conversation about all the shit thats happened and Puffy trying to help Niki and vice versa. I feel like Puffy should reach out to Foolish and try and comprehend what the fuck is he doing with Quackity. They have a little argument but it comes to a point where Puffy realises she cannot shield Foolish from harm and that her son ,just make his own decisions. All she can do is guide him where she can and hope that when it comes down to it he will make the right choice. She hopes she didn’t fail this dependant like she did with Dream her duckling. Though only she sees it as failure. 

Jack and Niki finally talk. She goes searching for some things and comes to his new place, he tells her to fuck off and that he doesn’t need anyone. They all abandon him. Niki pretty much does the verbal equivalent of slap some sense into him as she and him discuss how he is not the centre of everything, how he is not the sun. She was hurting, and he didn’t bother, no instead they just fed off each others anger and once he couldn’t feed of her or anyone else he isolated himself. She tries to convince him there are better things in life, there are better ways to place your energy etc. A lot of healing talk with Jack being stubborn. Eventually Jack finds himself at the door of Quackity after sticking to stubbornness, not quite ready to heal and he becomes the next member of Las Nevadas. A big blow to Wilbur too. 

They finally destroy the egg with magic. I dunno how but either destroy or hatch. Either or would be great. Red comes out the thing and I want a gay ass villain please. Bring it Red. Let’s go. Invite him to the server, bring the fire, bring the plant power Red. He can be the villain that unites everyone in a begrudging way. Like they all hate each other but fine i guess we’ll team to stop Red and Ant. 

Skeppy’s dead. 

Tubbo and Ranboo have a fight but Ranboo says “Weren’t we enough?” and it’s in relation to him and Michael (this happens before panic room). Thats when Tubbo realises where the wires got crossed and he immediately rectifies it but explaining he’s happy with the two of them but he wanted a job, something to work towards. Family wise he’s got it all, he’s content with it all but he wanted a project and one that didn’t incite violence. Fun rivalry sure, but he’s done with violence, he’s doesn’t want to add to the nightmares he already has. He wants competition but not one that will put all he loves in danger. So they talk it out and Ranboo feels more confident and Tubbo asks him to tell him if he ever takes anything too far because he can get a little carried away sometimes. Ranboo agrees and then they have a cute playdate with Michael. Then Ranboo does the thing with Wilbur and ends up in panic room.

Tommy and Tubbo discuss everything and lay it all out on the table because Tommy doesn’t want to be on the other side again with Tubbo. Tubbo doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big deal about his burger business and Tommy tries to explain the issues with Quackity and the level of intensity he’s seen with Wilbur but Tubbo just laughs it off. They eventually talk about Ranboo and Tommy relents saying he likes Ranboo although he does sometimes get jealous of how Tubbo seems to have it all. Tubbo tells Tommy of his nightmares and so does Tommy to Tubbo. They come to an understanding with each other and understand that no matter how long they go apart, there is always a space shaped to fit them perfectly in their lives for them. Tubbo and Tommy then go play some pranks. 

Wilbur is unhappy with the pranks and gives a lecture and they get into a fight. This leads to Wilbur talking man to man to Quackity. Theres some weird sexual tension. Once again they’re trying to outwit one another. That when we get to the crazy stuff. 

And here’s where I get crazy with my stuff. 

Ponk is digging in his lil cave when he accidentally breaks through to a random room buried deep underground. Tommy’s there trying to scam him out of something he has. Tubbo and Ranboo too. When they get to this room Ranboo thinking it’s the panic one and freaks out, but the others calm him down. Ponk thinking theres diamonds in the room storms ahead setting off some traps but surviving. Tubbo opens one of the chests and just says theres a bucket in there. Ponk pulls it out and says it has a named fish in it. 

You see where I’m going. 

They empty the bucket whilst asking what the fish is called. They are interrupted by a voice. It’s Sally. 

Dream had captured her and bound her to a bucket and put her in the chest and hid her from Wilbur. 

She has been released. She freaks out over how much time has past because for her nothing has changed at all. She thought it might have been a couple of hours or something since Dream pulled that prank on her but clearly not. 

They all catch up and the season ends with Sally and Wilbur meeting in front of Quackity, Dream in the shadows and Sally and Wilbur turning to see Fundy who just freaks the fuck out. 

Oh and just a side, Callahan is the last member of the syndicate and God of the server and is having fun playing with the mortals. 

And then I have the next season planned out and how I’d end the whole thing but like until then. This is it. Mid Season to finale. How I picture things happening. 

None of this will happen but isn’t it fun to imagine? 

[stellocchia]

Live reaction post 'cause I'm hyped!

I'm watching Ranboo's pov:

It already started off worrying... Ranboo please be ok...

"Ranboo you're the perfect example of law 5" law 5: be loyal Ranboo: panik

"Do you believe this is the right move?" Don't ask Ranboo about morals man! He's already confused as it is!

Wow, Tubbo is showing a bit of authority here! He ordered Eret to take off his armour very sternly.

Why is Tubbo so obsessed with his yelp reviews?!

Big Q!!!

Man I love Fundy! This man is panicking so much...

Camaravan time! (I really don't think that's how it's spelled but... oh well...)

No-one has brought up the memory book yet... I'm panicking so bad...

Dream is honouring the no armour policy? Fat chance there!

Tubbo has to kill him?! Can we please stop traumatizing children?!

God Quackity is intimidating... wait what?! If Tubbo fails big Q is in power??? That doesn't seem wise in the slightest...

Big Q staring straight at Ranboo when he asks if they all agree they're in this together... I don't like this. This man is scary...

Oh God it's starting... oh God Tubbo got the Shlatt mic...

Uuuuh Punz is here... with his horse... something is telling me he and Dream are planning to do the fight today... which means Dream may be planning to do the thing that will make everyone hate him today... oh God...

Oh HBomb is here!!! My favourite white boy!!!

Why is Big Q staring at Ranboo so much??? Oh God the interaction about the helmet was also scary... is it obvious that I'm nervous?

Why has Big Q left? Why am I so scared of him? Ranboo is scared of him as well... something tells me he's the one who red the book... it could be a red herring but I'm not willing to bet on it

Tubbo is with Big Q now... I know what part of their vods I'm gonna re-watch later... Ranboo scared, I'm scared as well. Ranboo you're killing me man!

Fundy and Ranboo absolutely not running an ad for their icecream shop. Ranboo please put your memory book in the e-chest! I'm in a constant state of anxiety, Tubbo and Big Q are confabulating too much.

Eret still wearing armour, I stan. That's actually a good idea. Big Q went into Ranboo's house and I don't like it... and now everyone is in Ranboo's house...

Ranboo is going to vc Tommy?! And Techno is here too. He's their spy apparently, or they think so at least... and he actually delivers as spy. They know Dream is gonna be there and following the rules.

Dream joined the game!

Cabinet meeting, I'm so scared... Big Q still staring at Ranboo. Why is it so unsettling? Aaaand Dream is here. And he's putting up the walls??? Welp, I was right, he's planning to do the thing that makes everyone hate him today. And he's blaming it on Tommy, of course... God I hate him so much... oooh wow. The community house is gone...

Oh my God he's done it to get the disk back. Kind of a stretch there... "you know who knew he came back?" Uh-oh... memory book reference? Aaaand Tubbo is giving the disk... and everyone is blaming Tommy, everyone is trusting Dream. I'm not watching Tommy's pov, but I hope at least Techno trusts him...

Yes! Techno defending Tommy! Tommy still trying to rekindle his friendship with Tubbo... I'm gonna cry... Techno and Ranboo bonding over being awkward...

Techno still trying hard to protect Tommy. Ranboo donned the armour, is he gonna fight?

"The disks were worth more than you ever were!"Tommy?! Oh God he's giving up the disk... the boy is breaking... Techno still protecting Tommy, I love them. Tommy what are you doing? Tommy joining Tubbo???

Oh God... oh God... boy is truly broken... Dream is actually showing his true colors now. I'm loving this!

Oh no! Dream has the memory book!

"We're gonna finish Wilbur's job" Dream is so terrifying...

Tommy betraying Techno is the worse... I'm so sad about that. But Techno is respecting his decision and I approve... but Tommy is gonna end up sacrificing himself once more for people that never stood up for him. And I'm actually so sad about that. Tommy taking the lead... I love how he keeps being put in the situation where he gets used by people who really don't trust him, nor care for him (that was sarcasm)

I'm now less scared of Big Q. And Sapnap of course is going to be on Dream's side... and Niki is now blaming everything on Tommy... please don't. Sam!!! Why is Niki being so awful today? Tommy leading but without putting himself in a position of power. I'm loving him! My boy is the best!

Punz is gonna betray them and we know it and he's using his base to store all the resources of the resistance (wait, is it his base?). Fundy taking the lead! Fundy speaking up!!!

Why is Niki being this awful? Why is she blaming literally everything on Tommy?

Yes Eret defending Ranboo!! I love Ranboo so much... oh no, Ranboo is making me cry. "Home isn't were a country is!" I love this boy. Ranboo out here calling everyone out on their bs!

"Tommy lied to us multiple times" excuse me Niki what?! He's the lier??? Are we fucking kidding right now! I think I seriously hate c!Niki. Why does she hate Tommy so much? She fucking hates him more than Dream! Why??? He's a literal child that sacrificed literally everything for you people! He made one mistake, one!

Operation "don't get our home blown up" is the best name ever! Wait, where is Ranboo going? Ranboo's paranoia is showing... "why do they have all this hope?" Clearly because they're desperate...

"No-one's right" that's literally the plot of the smp! No Ranboo, that's not true! Fundy still cares for you! So do Tommy and Tubbo! Please don't go to Techno and Phil!

How did Dream get the book?

Dream!!! (also technical difficulties pog!)... also "it's just a game" c!Dream you bitch. Ranboo please don't get manipulated by the green boy... Dream gaslighting him right now... no Ranboo! Don't listen to him!

"Would you remember if it was" c!Dream you absolute bitch! Wait! This was an hallucination? Did Ranboo blow up the community house? How are they managing the unreliable narrator trope in a minecraft roleplay?

The great struggle: to help or not to help that is the question. Ranboo my child! Honestly, that's fair, why do you consider Techno a friend? Yes! Dream is the enemy!

Calm down child! You'll be okay! Welp... this streams sure are ending with cliff enders...

[send-me-your-hcs]

Forever Ch20

Collab fic with @ceratonia-siliqua (check their blog next week for the next chapter!)

Read on ao3

Warnings: Unhealthy/codependent relationship, possessive behavior, dark themes, check ao3 for additional warnings.

This had been the longest twelve days of Bucky’s entire life.

And that was really saying something, considering he’d spent ten years in prison, most of it confined to an 8 by 10 windowless box. Bucky wasn’t unfamiliar with the arduous, monotonous dredge of just plain existing. But for some reason, the sting of being away from Peter - of his lover being out of his sight for so long - made Bucky’s skin crawl, his teeth ache. He felt like an addict going through withdrawals. He couldn’t keep his cool, which was an absolutely necessity for a hitman on a mission.

Thankfully, he was a pro. He took out three of the targets on Pierce’s list without a hiccup, crossing five states by the time he’d finished all the clean-up. He called Pierce on his way back to Indiana, stoically accepting the man’s brief approval, before he was urged to carry on with the rest of his list, whilst being assured that more names would be added soon.

Bucky brazenly informed Pierce that he would be spending some more time at home before heading west to take care of the other dozen names on his list, and hung up before Pierce could so much as comment on it. He wasn’t in the mood to face the man’s ire.

He couldn’t be bothered.

Because he was heading home, to Peter.

—

His excitement and joy lasted right up until the moment he drove around the last sharp turn in their driveway and saw another car parked out front. He almost hit the brakes in his shock, but the feeling was quickly replaced with dread. Whoever was here, Peter had let him in.

Bucky cursed himself as he hastily parked the car. He should have listened to his instincts. He should have locked the doors when he left. Even if it would have been tough explaining the situation to Peter afterwards, at least the boy wouldn’t have been able to let someone into their goddamn home.

He didn’t bother stopping to grab his bags as he bolted from the car and leapt up the porch steps. His heart was racing, half-panicked and half-enraged to think that he might be too late; that someone might have ratted them out and taken this from him, this life he had literally killed for. His heart was in his throat as he threw the door open, a torrential ocean raging underneath the calm guise he wore on his face.

He stopped dead when he stepped inside.

Steve’s back was obscuring his view, taking up almost the entire width of the narrow mudroom where he stood. He turned to look at him as the door opened, and there, behind Steve in the open doorway to the rest of the house, was Peter. The boy looked distinctly uncomfortable, but thankfully, that was all – no panicked tears, no pleading sobs, nothing. Bucky almost sighed with relief until he noticed the way Steve was staring at him.

“What are you doing here?”

If possible, the stink-eye on Steve’s face quadrupled. Bucky could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen his friend look so offended. “What am I doing here? Bucky.” Steve reeled back with one arm and pointed at Peter, accusingly. “What is he doing here?”

“He lives here. We live together, Steve.”

“Do you,” Steve said, a question with no punctuation mark. “Well thank God for that, because the rest of the world is in knots convinced that Peter was abducted by a rapist.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Would you rather he was?”

“I’d rather you weren’t involved at all!”

“Steve,” Peter called, placating. “Please, give us a chance to explain. I swear this isn’t what it looks like. Why don’t you come in? We can sit and talk this through, just give us a chance.”

Steve turned and looked at Peter like he was seeing him for the first time, and in a way, Bucky supposed he was. He had only ever known the boy as the son, the baby Stark, Tony Stark’s prized and private little prince. He never knew him as a person, an adult, someone old and wise enough to make his own decisions and handle the consequences that came along with them. Some of the doubt lessened when Steve looked at Peter then, and Bucky’s heart swelled with how much he loved this perfect boy.

“Fine,” Steve said, after a long and tense silence. “Let’s sit and talk.”

Peter led them down the hall, into the finally fully-furnished living room. Bucky snuck glances at the finishing touches Peter had applied while he was gone; the art he had hung, the plants he had re-potted and placed here and there for decoration. It looked good. Homey. It looked like the opposite of what he imagined Peter’s living room looked like growing up, and something about that made his chest feel warm.

Peter took a seat on the couch and smiled as Bucky sat next to him. Steve’s jaw clenched as Bucky wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and pulled him flush against his side, kissing his temple below his unruly curls, and pointedly looked away as he took his own seat on the armchair by the window.

“Okay,” he said, sharp and authoritative and every bit the cop he should have been. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, fixing them with a cold stare. “Start talking.”

Bucky kissed Peter’s hair again to let him know everything was okay, then pulled back and said, “We didn’t have a choice, Stevie.”

“Don’t Stevie me. Not now. And don’t bullshit me either, Bucky. There are millions of other ways you two could have handled this. Tony is out of his mind with worry!”

Peter flinched at that, and Bucky took his knee, rubbing slow, gentle circles into the top of his thigh to soothe him. “I know. And neither one of us is happy about that. You know me, Steve. You think I wanted to cause a nationwide panic? That wasn’t our intention.” He wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders, drew him in. “But Peter wanted to come with me and his dad – his dad would have used every one of his multiple-billions of dollars to stop us if he knew that. We had no choice.”

“You don’t know that,” Steve argued. Bucky could tell he was doing everything he could not to yell. “You never gave him a chance to do anything else, Bucky. You just took his son without a word to anyone and ferried him 800 miles away. You’ve condemned yourself – how can you not see that?”

Peter’s body went from tense to rigid as Steve spoke. Bucky could feel him coiled tight, like a spring ready to shoot up at any moment. He barely caught the cold, steely look on the boy’s face before Peter was near-shouting, “Steve, this isn’t Bucky’s fault!”

Steve wasn’t one to balk during an argument. His ability to remain stoic in the face of backchat was one of his most admirable features, especially in their younger years. But something about Peter snapping at him seemed to take him aback, and he straightened up his posture and tore his gaze away from Bucky, looking laughably lost for words.

Peter, on the other hand, looked wound tight and ready to blow. Bucky’s heart clenched at the hurt look on the boy’s face. He never wanted to see his boy look like that, it crushed him. He gently pulled Peter into his side and stroked his leg with his metal hand, soothing him. “Baby. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Peter said, before Steve got the chance to. “He’s just like my dad. He thinks – he thinks I’m a child. He thinks you took me, Bucky. He doesn’t even know us.”

“I know,” Bucky said, comforting. “But that’s why we’re talking it out. Right? Steve is my friend, baby. I’ve known him since he was smaller than you. He’ll understand.”

Steve didn’t bother trying to hide the doubtful look on his face, but he politely said nothing as Peter took a deep breath, in and out. Bucky just kept holding him, trying not to be openly resentful of the fact that Steve was here, thwarting him from having Peter right on this very couch.

After another deep breath, Peter’s shoulders relaxed beneath Bucky’s arm and he said, “I know you and my dad are friends, but you don’t know him as well as I do. Even if Bucky wasn’t…even if he hadn’t been released from prison less than two months ago – even if he was closer to my age or, or a girl, or, or whatever – he still wouldn’t have been okay with it. My dad is really overprotective. I mean, you should know that – you didn’t even know I existed until a few months ago. Why do you think that is?”

The look on Steve’s face shifted. Bucky watched, carefully, as the doubt turned inwards, turning on itself. Steve looked like he was momentarily at war with himself, which went right over Peter’s head as the boy kept talking.

“I know my dad loves me. I love him too. And I hate that I’ve hurt him so badly. But I was so isolated, Steve, and it…it was on purpose. My dad doesn’t trust other people, especially when it comes to me. Do you have any idea how many things I’ve never done or, or never gotten to try, just because my dad didn’t think letting me out – with a bodyguard! – was safe enough? And then I met Bucky, and, and – ”

Peter turned to look at him, hurt, overwhelmed, and let Bucky hug him tighter against his side, his hands sweeping down Peter’s arm and up his thigh.

“ – And I knew he wouldn’t get it,” Peter finished, quieter. “He wouldn’t have wanted to get it. He would be against it immediately, without knowing anything about Bucky. He wouldn’t have cared. He…he wouldn’t have cared that we can tell each other anything, or that Bucky would never let anything happen to me. He wouldn’t have cared that we love each other. He wouldn’t have cared that Bucky is – he’s – he’s the best thing that ever happened to me. My dad wouldn’t have cared.”

“But you never gave him a chance, Peter,” Steve said, remarkably gentle, to his credit. “And that isn’t fair. He’s your dad. He deserves better than that.”

“Steve, I know he’s your friend, but from what Peter tells me, this guy was one bad day away from microchipping Peter like a dog. If he knew so much as my name Peter wouldn’t be here. He’d be in New York, in that tower, locked away like a Disney princess, and you know it.”

Steve looked like he had a lot he wanted to say to that, but before he got the chance, Peter said, “If my dad ever bothered to actually talk to me and was open to the idea of me having a relationship with anyone other than himself, this wouldn’t have happened, Steve. Neither of us wanted it to. We wanted to stay in New York. I want to talk to my dad and have a good relationship with him. I miss him. But he was the one who didn’t pay enough attention to me to even realize I had met someone and fallen in love.”

The tears Peter had been fighting to keep in this whole time suddenly overflowed, and he wiped them away, messily, sniffling. “He’s my dad and I love him. But the thing everybody needs to understand is that I’m an adult, and he wasn’t good for me.”

Pride bloomed in Bucky’s chest like a flower opening up for the sun. A few weeks ago, Peter couldn’t even admit that his father had neglected him, let alone that their relationship had been unhealthy. Even after all the conversations they’d had about it, curled up on this very couch, or in bed, or at the dinner table or picnicking by the lake – not to mention the countless conversations through their letters – even after all that, Peter still hadn’t been able to say the words aloud, and here he was, brave enough for the both of them, speaking it into the world for the very first time.

Sniffling again, Peter wiped the mess from his face, leaving dried tear tracks clinging to the flawless skin of his cheeks. “You can love someone and still not be good for them. I know how much my dad loves me and how badly he’s hurting, but I’ve already done as much as I can about it. I wrote him a letter telling him I’m okay, and that just has to be enough for right now Steve, because legally, nobody can make me do anything I don’t want to do, but that wouldn’t stop my dad from trying, or paying someone who doesn’t care. When you love someone, you have to be willing to let them go. I can’t have the relationship that I want with my dad until he understands that.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, stoic, processing, until he finally sighed out a long, frustrated breath and asked, “You wrote him a letter?”

Bucky was glad Steve asked so that he didn’t have to. He knew Peter would, eventually, and supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Peter used the boredom and solace of Bucky being away to finally find the courage. He was dying to know what the letter said. But that could wait until he left for his next mission.

Peter nodded. “It’s hanging by the front door for Bucky to mail the next time he leaves for work. I tried to tell him as much as I could to ease his mind, because I really don’t want him to hurt anymore. But I’m not leaving Bucky. I love him. And he loves me. And we’re happy here and my dad has no right to take that away.”

Steve ran a hand across his face, looking terribly earnest in his distress. Whatever decision Steve came to, right here, right now, would decide whether or not their lifelong friendship had run its course. He loved Steve - as much as he could love anyone who wasn’t Peter - but the man was lawful in the worst of ways, and worst of all, Tony Stark’s friend.

The thought made Bucky’s throat close up. He hated the thought of losing Steve. But he would not lose Peter. “I asked Peter to come with me, Stevie. That’s all. That’s the only crime I’m guilty of.”

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve half-said, half-sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and unable to even meet his gaze. “I don’t know about this. This is – it’s messed up. I get where you’re coming from Peter, I do, but you’re eighteen years old. And Tony isn’t going to let this go.”

“Exactly,” Bucky said, holding Peter tighter when he whimpered. “He isn’t going to let it go, that’s the whole point. Peter deserves to have a life. He deserves to be with the person he loves, the same as you and me. And until his father can come to grips with that and accept it, this is the way things need to be.”

“Please don’t say anything to him,” Peter added, begging. “Please, Steve. He will follow you everywhere. He’ll find out where you’ve been, by whatever means necessary. He’ll drag me back against my will and pay off anyone who tries to help me. I’m not exaggerating.”

Guilt and shame covered Steve’s face. But eventually, he gave one firm, quick nod, said, “I know you’re not.”

It was like a dam breaking inside Bucky’s chest, releasing all the tension he didn’t know he was carrying. He jostled Peter against his side again and said, “So you won’t tell anyone?”

Normally, a verbal promise wouldn’t be nearly enough for Bucky. But he had known Steve their entire lives, and if there was one truth to Steve and who he was as a human being, it was that he kept his promises, always.

Steve eyed him for a long moment, then looked to Peter, his line of sight following the arm across Peter’s shoulders, bridging their bodies together. The fight seemed to leave him slowly and all at once at the same time, seeping from him and disappearing.

“I want to go on the record and say this is a bad idea and it could go very, very badly, for both of you. I want you to understand that in my opinion, Peter – you should go home and face the music and tell your dad the truth, and give him a chance to screw things up instead of just assuming he will. That’s my two cents. But,” he paused to take a breath, eyes sliding shut, like he didn’t want to face whatever he was about to say. “But, you also have a point, and I know Tony isn’t exactly the most…functional, at times. Peter, you’re only eighteen, but yes, that does make you an adult. And Bucky may be an idiot, but he’s also the best person I know, so at the very least, I know you’re safe here and I believe you when you tell me you’re happy. So in conclusion - though one of you should - no. I won’t tell anyone.”

Peter’s face broke into that gorgeous, dazzling smile, and he looked like he was one beat away from jumping to his feet and launching himself at Steve in a grateful hug. Bucky held him a little firmer, just in case. “Steve, thank you, God, thank you so much.”

Steve returned the boy’s smile, though it was tight-lipped and half-assed. Whatever. It was good enough. His word had always been good enough for Bucky. “You’re welcome. I, um. I had planned to crash on Bucky’s couch for a few days, but…I think I’m going to head home instead. No offense, Buck. This is just a bit too much for me.”

“I get it,” Bucky said, giving his friend a small smile as he stood from the couch. “I know this is a lot, Stevie. You don’t have to explain.”

Steve nodded as he stood as well, letting Bucky lead him through the house and to the door. He stopped to eye the envelope pinned beside it, at Peter’s messy, boyish handwriting scrawling out Tony’s name and address, but with a shake of his head, he let it go, let Bucky politely usher him out the door.

“You be safe, Buck,” Steve said, for just about the millionth time in the course of their friendship. “I’m in even less of a position to help you now than I was back then. Be careful where you plant your feet.”

“I know,” Bucky said. He clapped the other man on the shoulder, sensing Steve really wasn’t in the mood for a full on hug right now. “He makes me happy, Stevie.”

A look washed over Steve’s face that was probably as close to happy as he’d been since Peter answered the door. “I’m glad,” he said, genuinely. “But I’m also worried as all hell.”

Bucky nodded. “I know. I’m keeping us as safe as I can, Steve. You’re just gonna have to trust me here.”

“I do trust you,” Steve said. He headed down the porch steps, not looking away from Bucky as he said, “I’ve always trusted you.”

—

After watching Steve drive away – confirming, to some primal part of himself, that they were alone and safe at last – Bucky went searching for Peter, and found him in the bathroom, washing his face at the sink. He strolled up behind his young lover and drew him into his arms, squeezing him nearly as hard as he could, bending down to bury his face in that soft head of curls.

“I missed you so much,” he said, swaying them side to side a little. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Peter said. It wasn’t fully convincing, but he smiled at their reflections and met Bucky’s gaze in the mirror. “I missed you too, Daddy.”

Heat surged through his veins. Bucky felt his chest rumble like a lion getting ready to roar as he sucked in a low, pleased breath. “God, baby. We’ve got quite a bit of lost time to make up for, don’t you think?” He bent and kissed Peter’s slim neck, nipping at it lightly just to feel the boy squirm. “You still want me to take you dancin’?”

Peter giggled and writhed in his hold, but was totally, effortlessly caught. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night,” he said, turning his head to leave sweet, chaste little kisses across Bucky’s jaw, up to his cheek. “I just want to be alone with you right now.”

Bucky smiled, looped an arm beneath Peter’s knees and lifted him from the ground in one swift motion. Peter wrapped his scrawny arms around his neck and clung to him adorably as Bucky pressed their lips together, carrying him from the room and up the stairs.

[bxthharmon]

White Butterflies pt iii. || Hvitserk Lothbrok x Reader

 Words: 2028

Warnings: Mentions of arranged marriage, drowning, (veiled threats?)

Summary: An owl’s cry is bad luck

A/N: Ah, took a couple of days, sorryyyyyy

i | ii | iii | iv | v

This story doesn’t follow the plot, so you don’t have to know the story to understand it.

“Princess Y/N” Bjorn greeted you, “Come with me, Ivar’s going to announce the raids.”

“Firstly, we can stop with the titles, I’ve been here almost two months now, we’re friends, no?” you grinned, and he nodded, beckoning you to join him on the path to the hall, “and secondly, since I am no shield-maiden, do I really have to have my afternoon spent watching men argue and shout over their mead?”

He laughed, “All the same, you are a member of the family, and I feel that you should find out, I wanted you to know earlier, but Ivar refused.” you frowned, curious, but followed him into the Great Hall. You picked out your husband and Ubbe in the crowd, greeting them and kissing Hvitserk on the cheek.

Ivar called for the attention of the hall, and the room fell silent. “People of Kattegat,” Ivar started, “I have called you all here to announce the destination of our summer’s raids.” the crowd cheered enthusiastically, spilling ale in the process, “Now, I understand that you all have been asking for the last few weeks, and I’ve come to my decision. We’ve fallen out with plenty of countries, and so I feel we shouldn’t take on more than we can handle, no? That is why, in a moon’s time, we will be travelling to the home of my dear brother’s wife, Y/N.”

Cheers went up around you, but Ivar and Hvitserk kept their eyes on you, watching for a reaction. Standing there, you realised that your mother had done an amazing job on training you to keep your emotions private. You stood there, straight-faced and calm, but internally panicking.

“Brother,” Ubbe said, “By doing this, you breach the terms of the agreement one that you signed, it would be unwise to do such a thing. They have a large army, a strong one, have you considered that it would not be so wise?”

“We have the largest army in the world,” Ivar said, a cheer went up, “And we have an inside woman, no?”

Stares turned to you, and you sighed, stepping forwards. “My king, it would be an honour to help you in this attack. Though I must admit, women were not told battle plans and such where I come from.” 

“Well I suppose you’ve just got to tell us all you know, hmm?” he said, as if he expected nothing less. 

You walked away, full of panic. You did not care for your family, your country or its people - there wasn’t a single good person in that court - but you were worried. If your father found out he would try to get to you - contact you or hurt you - he would do anything to turn you back to your old country. He would expect it. You had no doubt he would hurt the people you were close to, maybe even kill them, if it meant you helped him. You felt a hand on your arm.

“Y/N,” said Hvitserk, “Are you okay?” you turned abruptly to face him.

“My family is many things, but they are not high-minded people.” you said, “I have seen both cultures, and you, as vikings, in the way you fight, you are honourable, and honest, but they will stab you in the back, they will poison you and manipulate you to meet their own ends. Their army is smaller, but they will find out our strategies and plans. To do this, we would have to fight in the least viking way possible.”

Hvitserk stared at you, and you continued, “Ivar is punching above his weight, and I don’t want to watch a futile battle. I’ll help, but don’t expect me to support this. I don’t love them, but I also don’t want this to start a war, and by doing this Ivar is starting a war that I don’t think he’ll win.” You pulled your arm out of his grasp and exited the hall, inhaling the cold, fresh air.

“Y/N,” Arthur greeted, and you looked up from your embroidery.

“Arthur,” you forced a smile, “What brings you here?”

“Theodore.” he says, and you frowned lightly.

“What’s Theo done?” you said, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Theodore told a servant girl that you were… courting… a boy from Lord Jackson’s court.” he sat down in front of you, and glared into your eyes. You held the stare, swallowing the fear induced by the glint in his eyes. Like he was mad, like he would kill you. “Now,” he began, drawing his dagger, and holding it to the light, “You are young, too young for betrothal, but in a couple of years, no doubt, once you’ve got your monthly blood, you will undoubtedly marry. And you know, our family is the most important thing.” he lifted the blade so that you could see your face staring back at you, “so we can’t have you marry some unimportant, good-for-nothing Lord in one of our own courts, can we?”

“Mother said-”

He pushed the flat side of the blade against your collar bone, the edge cold metal threatening to twist and slice your skin. “Mother knows that you will marry to form an alliance, and if you stray from the path that your father is building for you, then people will get hurt, and you are too kind to let that happen.” the blade twisted, and drops of blood trickled down your skin.

“Thank you for your counsel, brother.”

You’d known then that everything he’d said was true. You’d spent your whole life preparing for this marriage. You’d learnt Frankish and German and Latin fluently, and could just about get by in at least four other languages, so that you could speak to any foreign suitors and handle visitors to your court. You’d learnt to write, read, sew and embroider so as to have reputable skills to help in your life. You’d learnt manners and etiquette to impress suitors. You’d been taught how to veil threats, hide emotions, and test other’s certitude.

You had been prepared for it, yet when it had happened, you couldn’t have been in more shock. You had been thrown into a world with different Gods, customs and celebrations. You already understood and spoke the language, but were nowhere near fluent, and struggled to keep up with conversation, especially given the refusal to teach any language relating to another religion.

You felt out of your depth.

*

You stood on the docks of Kattegat, the sea stretched out before you, turbulent and stormy. The waves rising metres into the air, and winds cold and harsh against your skin, biting and clawing at you. The swell of the wave was noticeable from the moment it entered the fjord, rising and surging towards you with purpose. You wanted to run, to get out of the way, but your feet were stuck, you couldn’t move. The wave only seconds away from hitting, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

As the impact hit you, you were blown away, floating in the undercurrents as water took the town as its own. The wave pulled back, and you were swept away, out of the fjord, and into the endless waters of the sea. Your lungs screamed for air, but you couldn’t tell left from right, up from down. The depths gave you no means of escape, and your lungs were collapsing, you were sinking. Forced by the water, your mouth opened, and water filled your lungs.

But you did not die.

You hung there, in the middle of the sea, breathing water. You pulled yourself forwards through the water, your eyes wide open, stinging, but seeing. You pulled yourself through the water, and realised that you suddenly knew how to swim. You felt yourself begin to relax and felt your guard drop. You regained your bearings. 

But then the water became a mess of fangs and scales and blood and you were disorientated and hurt again. Panic filled your system and you pushed yourself away, trying to escape the huge writhing body that was thrashing all around you. You found yourself watching the thing from a distance, before you saw its eyes.

Evil, red, hateful, they caught you in their gaze, growing bigger, more vicious, bloodthirsty and hunting. You saw its fangs, pale and sharp and full of venom, its scales smooth and perfect. This - this thing - was a monster, a beast, made for murder and hate and unspeakable deeds. It was hunting.

And you were the prey.

The mouth of the serpent came close so quickly that if you shut your eyes you would have missed it. It was so big that for a split-second you realised it would swallow you whole, and you were as small as a mouse is to a bear.

You were going to die.

Air filled your lungs as you sat up in bed, drenched in sweat, panting. Everything was blurred and all you were aware of was your breathing - shallow, quick and ragged - everything else was unclear.

You felt faintly aware that someone had sat up next to you and you could feel their arm over your shoulders, pulling you into them, stroking your hair, kissing your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay? Y/N, tell me what happened, talk to me, me heart, talk to me.”

The murmur pierced through your dumb state, and everything came back into focus. You could feel tears streaming down your face. You brought your attention to Hvitserk, whose face taught with concern, eyebrows pulled down to a frown, his eyes, dark and strong, but he too looked scared witless, on the verge of tears.he took your face in his hands, “My Princess, tell me what happened.”

“I, uh, I was at the docks.” your speech, you realised, was broken. This was the most vulnerable you’d ever been in front of someone, “and there was this - this wave. It was coming towards me, so fast,  and it seemed… almost, I don’t know, angry. It flooded all of Kattegat - the whole thing - and took me with it back out to sea. And I was trying to hold my breath - obviously - and I don’t know how to swim, so I was panicking. But - but I could breathe.”

He frowned, “Underwater?”

“Yes, it was like I was breathing the water itself.” you sighed, “But then, just as I got my bearings, this huge thing came and it was, like, thrashing,  around me. I - I got away, but this, giant, huge… snake, I think, it saw me. And it looked like it wanted to kill me, for no real reason. And it surged towards me, it was so big that it fully, like, I don’t know, it consumed me?” you looked at your lap, and felt tears falling.

“Hey,” he looked into your eyes, “hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. But do you know what this means?”

“No,” you said, “I’ve never had a dream like that before.”

“You could breathe underwater, that means you have Njord’s favour.”

“Njord?” you asked, despite how you were trying to learn about the Gods, you didn’t know them all. 

“The God of the Sea, and the Wind, and of Trade.” He explained. “We should tell the others of your dream, it’s important.”

“Important how?” you asked.

“Important because we want to have his favour for our sails to your land.” he kissed your nose, lightly. “It’s daybreak anyway, come to our meeting with me later, help us out.”

“For you,” you kissed him, and then left the bed, calling a thrall to help you dress. Hvitserk left quickly, kissing your cheek and assuring your attendance to the small war council. 

You went to the yew tree before the council, and prayed. You prayed for family, but not family that shared your blood. You prayed for the family whose home you lived in and whose success depended on you. You wondered what had become of Theo, and if your family was still healthy, and you questioned if you wondered this out of love or curiosity, and if they thought the same of you. Somewhere, in the distance, an owl called.

tag(s): @soleil-dor @siliethkaijuy

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cursed G Pt 30 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Siduri)

Previous Part: 1 - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

___

She wasn’t sure why she bothered with this man.

That was all she could think in the morning. Enkidu and Gilgamesh were cuddled against one another, since Enkidu had climbed over her body during the night and was draped over the man’s person. She had to laugh internally at the two of them, lying there on the bed like a couple of idiots.

Her feet touched upon the warm floors, her hands going to a set of robes near the bed that had been left out for her. The doors were a bit hard to open, considering the weight of them, but she slipped through and headed towards where the meal the previous night had been.

“Good morning, my lady,” Siduri greeted, as though she hadn’t played a nasty prank on her by making her half panic about work the night before.

“Morning,” Hakuno yawned. “Can I help with work this morning?”

“If the king permits.”

If the king permits… She wasn’t too fond of that phrase. It wasn’t like she was a complete idiot. She had her share of foolish moments, but she cared.

The attendant wasn’t too worried about what she thought though. She was busy leading her to a seat in the back and highest point of the room, having various servants bring her breakfast and asking about frivolous things.

“Would you like someone to assist you with your baths?”

“I can scrub myself.”

“Jewelry for this morning?”

“Why would I need that?”

“I can have the servants bring you some proper clothes.”

Hakuno frowned a little, biting into some melon as she said that. Her own robes right now were okay, weren’t they?

“Forgive me. You must still be disoriented from your time. Perhaps some music this afternoon? I can have the minstrels come and perform for you. Perhaps a troop can come and entertain you-“

“I could help with tablet work. I think that would be more rewarding.”

Siduri blinked, shaking her head.

“Do you like minstrels?”

“My opinion doesn’t matter right now.”

Why was that?

Hakuno set her untensils down, wiping her mouth with a cloth beside her plate before she faced the woman properly.

“I think your opinion matters a lot, Siduri. I didn’t need any of those things when I was in my time. I worked. I handled documents and finances for myself. I have a good head on my shoulders. If there is any way I can help in the palace, then I want to do so.”

“…You are the woman that the king has chosen,” Siduri pointed out.

“And I want to help.”

Siduri stared at her before shaking her head.

She motioned for more food to be brought to her plate.

“Please continue eating while I have the servants prepare the bathing chambers and a set of robes for you. Your comfort and happiness are the priority for our workers and the work is… complicated. Why force yourself to do something unpleasant when there are others that can take it?”

That wasn’t right.

That sounded like the self-serving rhetoric seen by poor leaders and corrupted royalty that were taken advantage of. Hakuno went to speak again when she found the attendant standing up and bowing to someone nearby.

“My king!”

Gilgamesh stood, adorned in all the gold jewelry and plush colors of a king. His eyes drifted to her, a smirk coming to that expression.

“I see we are already spoiling my queen.”

“Of course,” Siduri replied to him. “I was just discussing how to address helping her dress for the day-“

“And I’m sure she waved you off and requested to work.”

Siduri paused, earning a laugh. Hakuno found him closing the distance between them and kissing her before Siduri.

“Hakuno is stubborn,” he told her. “She thinks much more like yourself and the advisors. If there is work she can do without the most profound knowledge of the inner workings of the palace, then I would suggest allowing her to work. She’ll simply steal tablets otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t steal them.”

Those eyes were just flashed, that smirk growing as Siduri spluttered nearby.

“My king!” She tried. “Shouldn’t we-“

“Whatever Hakuno wants.”

Smart man. Hakuno kissed him the moment he sat down beside her, giving him a good reward for that kind of promotion to the attendant.

“Oh, and Siduri?”

The woman nearby paused, glancing his way.

“I do believe Hakuno should be meeting Ninsun, don’t you agree?”

Ninsun?

Why did she know that name?

The attendant was paling, glancing between the two of them. Her hands seemed to clutch at the tablet she held in her arms.

“Y-you mean to have them interact? Ninsun is… so intimately close to you, my king. If she does not like Hakuno…”

Hold on.

Hakuno perked up a bit more, frowning as the king waved off Siduri’s warning. She didn’t remember Gilgamesh having someone but she did know about the mentions of women in Gil’s stories. Did he already have a-

Something akin to a rock sank to the depths of her stomach as Gilgamesh laughed and waved off Siduri’s fears, informing her to have her dressed up and adorned before meeting Ninsun.

Who was Ninsun though?

Hakuno found herself pulled away before she could bother to ask. Gilgamesh gave her a wave, greeting Enkidu as the being came into the dining hall. The two of them began bickering as Siduri held her hand and led her through the palace hallways. She still seemed almost panicked at getting her to her chambers that she shared with Gilgamesh and summoning servants.

There was no end to helping her prepare.

The sheer effort was enough to tell her that, whoever Ninsun was, she was someone that struck fear into these people’s hearts. The servants were sweating, their eyes focused on their work as she stood there and let it all happen. She could feel her hair being tugged a little here and there. She could see women running out to the gardens and back in, weaving some of the blooms into her hair as they braided it into place. The seamstresses seemed almost to be sewing the clothing together with her standing there.

Another brought in a stick of something back.

“It prevents evil eye,” the woman told her. “Close your eyes if you wish. I have handled stubborn children.”

She wasn’t a child, but the moment the thing was coming towards her eyes, she had her eyes closed.

It was fine.

The woman she saw in the looking glass that she would spot here and there in the hallways they traversed through seemed entirely foreign. It took a bit of time to realize that she was staring at herself. When she did, she almost stopped.

“My lady,” Siduri told her, ushering her along.

They left the palace.

There were what seemed to be thousands of stairs to walk down. No railing either. It would have been one of those safety measure things that the government would have lost their minds about. The robes and the strange sandals that had been tied to her feet didn’t help with the process of going down them either. Slippery bottomed shoes were vastly different from the rubber soled shoes of the future. Her hands remained around Siduri’s arm, letting her help her navigate down the million and one stairs to the ground.

People stared in their direction. The guards at their sides kept close, escorting her to the large and ornate building.

Was it a brothel? A temple to the intimate?

She looked up, staring at the name overhead and feeling a strange and awkward need to run.

Siduri exchanged a look with her before motioning the guards to stand on either side of the entrance.

“You do not have to do this if you don’t want to,” she explained.

Great.

“The king may want the two of you to meet, but if you aren’t comfortable…”

Hakuno glanced to the door again.

Denying this opportunity to take whomever this Ninsun was by surprise by initiating a meeting could turn into a mess. She’d already found trouble with meeting Ishtar. She’d ignored opportunities by letting Gilgamesh take the lead and worming her way around troublemakers in her life.

Ninsun was just another person.

A wife of Gilgamesh was going to be troublesome, especially since she loved the man.

There was eternity to live here in Uruk. No television. No enormous collections of rights for her to fall back on if things went south. This was her chance to prove that she was a force to be reckoned with.

“I’ll be fine,” she told the woman.

“She will not be the easiest to speak with,” Siduri told her.

“I’ve handled worse.”

Ishtar. Rin. Rani when Rin had pissed her off. Emiya after Cu decided to have a sparring match with him. Shakespeare in the throes of a new play he was writing. There were countless examples of people that were difficult in her life.

Hell, Gilgamesh was stubborn.

Siduri looked at her a moment before she sighed.

“Do you love the king?”

“Yes, I do.”

Siduri nodded, smiling a little as she looked up at her. “Then I agree with your decision. Meet Ninsun. Prove yourself to her.”

“I want to help with paperwork later too.”

Siduri bowed a little. “As you wish.”

“…Siduri?”

The woman paused.

“…I don’t have friends here..” Hakuno glanced over to the guards ignoring them. “I left everyone and everything behind to be here and Gilgamesh is Gilgamesh.”

She waited, almost seeming as though she wasn’t daring to move lest she offend her.

“I was hoping… No, I am hoping that maybe you and I could be friends. You did that test on Gilgamesh and I yesterday. You seem more concerned about Gilgamesh not making any mistakes or choosing someone for the wrong reasons.”

“My king deserves someone who is wise like him. Not conniving or selfish.”

Hakuno smiled. “I agree.”

The woman waited.

“I would be a commoner and love Gilgamesh afar if it were possible, but he and Enkidu drag me around and I can’t help but to like the two of them. I must be out of my mind, but I love Gilgamesh.”

Siduri closed her eyes again, another sigh escaping her.

“Siduri-“

“Okay.”

The woman glanced to her again, her small smile coming forth as she motioned for the guards to open the doors to the place where Ninsun resided.

“I would be honored to be your friend, Hakuno… But I am just an attendant. I do not have the right to call you a friend unless you permit it yourself.”

Hakuno leaned in close, kissing the woman’s cheek.

She walked into the building, leaving the attendant to stand there and hold onto her face.

Enkidu did that with her. She figured it was probably a custom.

Behind her, the doors were closing, blocking her view of freedom and her one and only friend in this place. Her world was once more foreign and strange. She could see great statues of a woman in various positions, leading her into the heart of the temple. She could see a great seat, surrounded by small trinkets and what she could only assume were offerings.

She moved to the offerings, deciding to kneels and pray quietly.

Gil’s health seemed like a smart decision for prayer.

“Gilgamesh tends not to get sick.”

Hakuno paused, her hands still clasped together and her body still kneeling at the altar. The woman nearby stood in a deep blue fabric, her golden hair falling over her shoulders and her keen red eyes surveying her carefully.

“My son,” she clarified. “He does not get sick often. Praying for his health is like praying for the air to continue to exist. So long as you care for your world, the air is not going anywhere.”

“You’re Gil’s mother?”

“Isn’t he just lovely?”

The woman, who could only be Ninsun, moved forward, settling herself upon the empty throne in the room and motioning for her to remain kneeling before her. Her hand went then to her hair, twirling a bit of the blonde locks around her fingers.  

“His father was a soldier turned king. He was smart, overly smart, as the gods had found. He had tamed the infamous Anzu bird and could destroy the land of the gods in one fell swoop. Humanity was beginning to question whether the gods had power at all. They doubted us. What we required was a lynchpin to keep humanity and the gods together. Entangled with one another into the future. The boy’s father decided that I seemed suitable.”

She preened like Gil did, almost seeming to revel in the memory. The smirk was identical. The eyes watching her were no different than Gil’s when he was eyeing her with intent. Although, Ninsun didn’t seem to be really looking at her. Her mind seemed elsewhere.

“I remember his father well. Plain, mediocre in strength compared to the gods; he had this deep weakness, you know. He could never resist my body or my sweets. I fed him like a pig for slaughter and he never gained an inch around that waist of his. I think he burned the food away through listening to others alone.”

“I see…”

Gilgamesh had just wanted her to meet his mother then.

The woman was quite beautiful, but this would have been less awkward if Gilgamesh himself had joined. She would have liked an introduction, maybe the chance to have Gil break the ice.

“My son seems to think highly of you, dressing you as one would a queen.”

“I love your son.”

That was still a bit awkward to say. She didn’t mind it; Gilgamesh was worth it, considering how careful and soft he could be. It was just-

“My son is gentle?”

Hakuno looked up at the woman, seeing her pause.

Those red eyes looked deep into hers a moment before the shaking began. The slight tremor in her body turned into a small giggle. The giggle turned into a full blown laugh, her head falling back.

“Oh! But my Gilgamesh! My fool! He has become no different then! To think that I wondered!”

“What do you mean-“

“Tell me, does he truly act like a cat?”

Did he still act like a cat?!

Had he been like that before-

“OH!”

Ninsun roared with laughter, holding her waist now. Her eyes were watering, her fingers going to her eyes to wipe the droplets away.

“Oh! My dear daughter! My sweet dear! My son, a cuddly, loving husband! My son fearing for a life such as dull and simple as yourself! I simply adore it. I cannot imagine the amount of hatred you receive from Ishtar. You bear resemblance to her dear sister in law. She must hate you passionately!”

Hakuno waited, watching the woman continue to laugh away.

Minutes passed. Eternity as well.

“Oh, but my baby. My boy,” she cooed between the laughs. “I can’t imagine what having him as a cat must have been like. Your memories! Oh!”

More minutes.

Hakuno ignored the odd feeling in her stomach, the feeling of slight nausea coming and going before the woman finally paused.

She closed her eyes.

The light mood dropped, her hands gripping her seat.

“…Foolish.”

“Hmm?”

Ninsun opened her eyes, giving a small sigh. “Return to your king, my dear. Take this.”

She stepped forth, dropping one of the necklaces around her neck to the floor before her.

“Do not take it off, for any reason. Not for bed. Not for baths. Not even when you love your king in your bed together. You do not take this off and you do not stray far from the palace, do you understand?”

“Yes, mom.”

Those red eyes widened.

“I mean-“

“You must always call me that.”

Hakuno blinked.

“No other name will suffice. Never declare me by any other name. You are my daughter and I am your mother. You are the wife of my son and the mother of my grandchildren. If you call me by any other name, I will be offended.”

“Okay, mom.”

Hakuno hesitated, watching the woman stand close.

She bit her lip.

“What is it?”

“You can read my thoughts, can’t you?”

The woman smiled, closing her eyes. “I do not know what you mean. If you want something, you must be abundantly clear. State your desires directly and openly.”

“If you are my mom… Then may I have a hug?” Hakuno looked up at the beautiful woman, her hands still on her lap. “I’ve never really had family before.”

She was swept into the woman’s arms almost immediately, the woman’s lips pressing to her cheeks, her nose, anywhere that the woman deemed necessary. The hug was so warm, so loving; Hakuno found herself closing her eyes.

“I love you too, mom.”

The woman tightened her grip, turning a little this way and that.

The necklace on the floor was placed on her neck before the goddess repeated her warning about not taking it off.

“Take pleasure in what’s around you,” she murmured last.

Hakuno simply hugged the woman again, listening to her greedily tell a passing priest or two that she was holding her daughter in her arms.

“My son has given me a daughter to love.”

What a coincidence that was. Gilgamesh had given her a mother to adore.

[allmightyneed]

Villain!All Might (Smite)x reader. part 2/20

link to part 1  

You pass weeks in a distracted, miserable state. Two, three, a month. Longer. At first, you chalk it up to the huge secret you now have to keep. A secret that feels as big as All Might himself. By a complete accident of time and place, you’ve come into possession of valuable intel on the most wanted criminal in Japan, possibly the world. Every day, you consider spilling the details to your best friend, who you also happen to work with. But how would you possibly bring it up?

“Oh, hey Kiko, guess what, I met a guy! Yeah… he’s super hot, tall, bit of a dark side. His name? I’m not sure, but professionally he goes by All Might.”

You can only imagine the confusion and disgust that would elicit. Even from Kiko, who usually tries to support your decisions, no matter how bad. The knowledge itself needles at you too, day after day. This information about his quirk could be the key to capturing him or bringing him down— forget using it to advance your own career. You could go to the police with this, you could go to Endeavor’s hero agency. You could change things. You could save lives. To your shame, that guilt isn’t strong enough to betray All Might’s confidence. He had trusted you. The number one villain trusted you with his secret identity, and apparently still does, because he hasn’t hunted you down and executed you. (Yet.)

Maybe he can’t. Your analytical mind spins theories in the absence of more definitive information. Maybe that muscle form takes a lot out of him, energy-wise. Maybe it’s too hard to maintain for long, and that’s why he sometimes disappears for days and weeks on end. And what about that whole coughing up blood thing?

By the third week, you’re using what little spare time you can find at work cobbling together a timeline of every documented All Might incident, closing in on a thousand entries in a hidden spreadsheet on your computer, and you’re only up to what most subject matter experts would consider the midway point of his active period. You haven’t found any patterns yet, nothing definitive, though as a foreigner yourself, his mysterious stint in America raises so many questions. 

“Hey!” A chipper voice and a knock-knock on your cubicle divider make you close the spreadsheet. You turn and see Kiko there, smiling and curious. 

“Hey!” 

“Whatcha working on?” 

“Oh, you know.” You wave your hand airily. “Nothing, really, just some busywork for Mr. Shimada.”

“Well, come on! It’s team lunch today.”

“Aw, really?”

“Yes. And you can’t skip. You’re looking too skinny.” That couldn’t be true, but the accusation reminds you of All Might, how he looked like he never got enough to eat. At least, one version of him. Kiko is sweet to be worried about you. She’s always so kind and considerate, always making sure you don’t bury yourself in your work, inviting you to lunch and for midday walks to get some sunlight. 

“Okay, okay. I’m not trying to get out of it.” You lock your computer screen and collect your jacket from the back of your chair. It will be nice to get a break outside of the office for sure. Given the sensitive nature of your work, your building is a secure one, with no windows and checkpoints to get in and out. Other than a few cultural holdouts, the workplace bears little resemblance to a traditional Japanese office, having adopted some more western practices, like cubicles and excessive use of PowerPoint. “Have you heard back from the Licensing Bureau?”

Kiko heaves a big sigh, which tells you that she hasn’t. “I thought I would last week at the latest, but nothing.”

You follow her into the elevator. “That’s weird. Don’t they usually send confirmation or denial pretty promptly?”

“Most petitioners receive the news right after their test.” She shrugs, throwing you a little smile as she precedes you into the lobby. “Guess I’m special.”

“Of course you are,” you laugh, rolling your eyes a little, but you mean it. She has pure hearted intentions about becoming a part-time volunteer hero. Discussion about the intricacies of Licensing Bureau policies and mailing schedules continues all the way to the barbecue restaurant where together you conclude, that her unusual quirk must be holding up their decision. It makes sense. Reanimation, her ability to create a zombie from a dead body, is dangerous and powerful, and is rightfully quite closely controlled. It’s also very much at odds with her sunny, happy personality. She rarely brings it up, but you know she regrets not having a more standard type of quirk. She’s also one of the few people who know about your quirk and has been a steadfast guardian of the secret.

Nothing much happens at the team lunch. Office gossip, rehashing the latest news, etc. Though, you do find out from Mr. Kawada, your supervisor, that you are one of two analysts who have been selected to support and consult on a new account the firm is taking on. So exclusive that you aren’t even allowed to know who the client is yet. You act grateful, mustering as much enthusiasm as you can— it’s a great opportunity— but inwardly, you’re daydreaming about All Might. That’s been happening more and more. 

When you get back to the office after lunch, you’re roped into a meeting with Mr. Kawada, and Mr. Shimada and the rest of the team leads. You know you should be paying attention but you zone out through most of it, replaying that fateful night in your head. 

A couple days later, the obsession reaches a critical level. You have to find him. Not as an analyst, not to bring him to justice. You just have to see him, and you don’t quite understand why, but it’s a need, a hunger that grows sharper and more potent each day. 

Riding the train to work, you start searching in your web browser. ‘All Might’. Too much noise. News articles from twenty different sources all about the same recent attacks clog the entire first page of results. When you get into the office, you go through the motions, sitting down at your workstation, logging in, all on autopilot. 

The only thing you can think about is All Might. As time has passed, you try harder and harder to keep fresh that image in your mind of how he looked in his other form. The skinny one, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. He hadn’t been any less intense like that. 

You refine your searches, hitting wall after wall of no results or way too many. A passing coworker’s idol-themed lanyard catches your eye; you finally hit on an idea: ‘All Might fan club’. That gets you something. You navigate to the first result, an outdated page with a garish background and little animated pixel version of All Might in the corner of the screen. Dancing. you have to admit it’s kind of cute. Suddenly, loud sound plays through your computer’s speakers. 

“I am on a website! I am on a website!” It’s All Might’s voice— his villain voice, which has people in other cubicles peeking over the dividers at you to find the source of the noise. Panicking, you close the tab. Then, after making sure your computer’s volume is muted, you find your way back to that same page. Sure enough, there’s a link at the top titled I LOVE TO MEET MY FANS. Following it brings you to a listing of a mailing address and… yes. A phone number. 

Heart racing, you copy it down on a sticky note, tuck it in your purse and, before it can register in your mind as a bad idea, slip out of the office. 

The train back to your home stop is nearly empty in the middle of the day. A few tourists, old people, some kids playing hooky. 

You turn your phone over and over. It said he loves to meet his fans… what fans? Doesn’t everyone hate him? Maybe that’s how you should open the conversation. Hey Mr. All Might, I know you’re universally reviled but I thought I’d hit you up anyway. The idea makes you snort-laugh. No. Just keep it simple.

You: hi.

A few seconds later, during which you stare at your phone, the three ‘typing’ dots appear. Then go away, with no message coming through. Could this really be him? Or is it just some weirdo’s phone number? Some otaku impersonating All Might on the internet. Not like you are in any position to be accusing someone of obsession.

You: this is the girl you met in the alley. You pause for a second, thinking of how you could signal to him who you are. He might meet a lot of girls in alleys. 

You: I saw you shrink.

A moment later, he replies with your name. Shock hits you; you click the screen off, black then click it on again. Your name is still there.

Him: I tHOUT I told =you to standstill and bee silent. 

It’s him. With lots of typos, but it’s him.

Oh, god. What are you doing? 

You don’t reply again until you get inside your apartment. Standing just inside the front door, with your shoes still on, you write out three versions of a witty retort, and erase each one. Stupid. What are you even trying to get out of this? 

You: I think people deserve to know who you really are. 

Nothing. Nothing for an unbearable minute that feels like another week gone by.

You: I’m going to the media. 

You’re not. You don’t know why you just told him that.

The three dots appear and disappear, again, with no new text. You watch the screen for what seems like an eternity, still standing in your entryway with your purse on your shoulder. 

And then there’s a thundering knock on the door.

Link to part 3

[neonpinksami]

Alright bois and gals, here’s my personal opinion on the series finale of Star Vs 

(And I am so open to debate anything if y’all stay civil cause jesus christ I’m tired of all the raging hate I’ve seen over theories and opinions on a cartoon)

-I don’t really like that they painted destroying magic as the only option? Or that magic has caused all their problems? I mean really magic itself hasn’t done anything, it’s been a select few individuals with it. 

-Personally, I would’ve liked maybe if in the end, Meteora somehow did like what Star did when she “rebirthed” magic, resulting in a new kind of magic with a monster element to it. 

-I will always hate how Glossaryck was written. In the early parts of the show, it was more “I’m going to beat around the bush and not help you directly so it’s a learning opportunity for you while you figure it out yourself”, which seemed to be the best way to teach Star really. But then later he just became a burden and an asshole. He could've helped so much, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually knew of some way to beat Mina. I especially hated all the time they made him act like a newborn and only say “Globgor” just to suddenly “snap out of it” and take off. 

-Marco being impaled but it literally having no consequence? Like, really?

-Why did Tom instantly get his memory back, while Moon forgot hers for a while? Like I was hoping to shame Star and Marco more about forgetting he existed for a while, honestly. 

-I.... don’t know how to feel about Starco? I originally only shipped them, and I still kinda do. But I have to admit, the parts where Star and Tom interacted while dating felt more lovey and cute compared to the recent ones with Star and Marco? Like I still felt more of a “best friend”  vibe than a “dating” one I guess? Not that that’s bad, having a relationship where your partner is your best friend is ideal really. But idk I loved how they showed Tom and Star together (when Star wasn’t being selfish) and also kinda would’ve liked for a show to have their girl and guy leads stay friends instead of ending in a relationship. Although maybe the more romantic feel from Tomstar came from how much Tom absolutely loved Star, even if she didn’t have that same level of love back, so maybe whoever Tom does end up with would have that same stronger feeling? And I still really dislike the whole “I loved you from the start” bullshit. There’s SO MUCH PROOF against that, and it should’ve been a “you're my best friends and I have been slowly falling for you” thing. 

-I do NOT like the merging of Mewni and Earth cop-out they took. First, it causes SO MANY problems left unaddressed- space wise how does that work, how much of Earth did Mewni replace, what about people or building or wildlife that were in the places that suddenly became Mewni, or vice versa for those spots on Mewni that became Earth? How will this new world function, with Mewni being ruled by a queen and Earth (at least the part we see) being democratic? How will the monsters be treated? It just causes so many problems just to have a simple way for Star and Marco to remain together without magic. 

-Also, what exactly is and isn’t magic? I mean Ponyhead seems pretty fucking magical to me, being able to float and their kingdom floating and all that. What about Tom’s powers? Better yet, how is tom able to get between the Underworld and Mewni without a portal? Are the doors he opens not magic? What separates monsters from magic, since magic was always a part of Mewni and the monsters before the first Mewmans arrived (which I theorize from Earth through the portal, but)

-What exactly makes Eclipsa’s magic “dark”? What part of it caused the black contamination of the magic? Also, if it has been there ever since Moon cleansed herself there, why did it only now start causing problems?

-I don’t like that Star and Marco risked everything- basically willing to die as long as they were together than live with their many other family and friends- by jumping back into the magic. They didn’t consider how it would affect everyone? Also, when Star wakes up back in Mewni, she’s not immediately sad or panicked that she didn’t die with Marco or that they’re now apart. She’s in the same situation she would’ve been in if she just hadn’t gone back through the well, but she’s not more upset than she would’ve been regardless. I guess Marco at least panics at first about where Star is, but then it’s much of the same. They both did this big dramatic gesture and thought they would die and then just kinda... glossed over it and went back to the original outcome? 

-And back at Tom, jfc Star owed him a HUGE apology for forgetting him there and she sees him and it’s just. Not mentioned. I just really hate how they basically pretended he didn’t exist from the moment they were zapped out of the magic dimension up until they saw him. I mean Star even went to gather her friends to fight Mina and no mention of she couldn't find Tom? 

-Meteora using butterfly form was cute and all but. I mean what was she really doing? She cant like.. speak yet? So she couldn’t have been doing the whispering spell? 

-Also while I loved the scene with Solaria accepting Meteora and Eclipsa’s decisions, it logically doesn’t make sense. She hated monsters with a passion, it was her legacy, and she even showed disdain when she saw Star in the grandma room, probably in part because of Star’s acceptance of monsters. I guess you could say she loved Eclipsa and her family more than her hatred for monsters, but ehhh idk, it just felt underdeveloped. 

-Then again, the entire episode felt underdeveloped. It felt crammed together. I understand they’ve got limitations on episode number and length but still, for a series finale it felt lackluster. Not to mention, it left open and caused so many more questions and issues, and not like small ones either. For example, there was a lot I still had questions for in Adventure Time, but I felt content with the ending because overall it showed a lot of closure for everyone, and you could sense a path of how it would continue even without the story being told. Star vs just... doesn’t feel that way? I can’t clearly imagine where it is going, in fact they just created a HUGE blank slate with this new merged world. You could say that’s nice for head-cannons, but it just feels too incomplete to me. 

I’m sure I’ll think of more later or when I rewatch the episode, but. Overall it just felt kinda underdone and rushed in my opinion, and there’s a lot of short ways out they took that felt not thought through completely and just made as a convenience to center on Star and Marco’s relationship. 

[tcswritings]

Friends.

Declan and Mick, some drinks, a heavy subject and, finally, a reconciliation.

***

“Can I get ya anythin’ else, Sir?”

The young and cheerful waitress, armed with pen and paper, cocked her head a little and she put on a bright smile, ready to get him anything he wanted, but Declan once again shook his head.

“No, thank you!” he replied politely.

It was the second time she had asked him whether he wanted anything else than just a drink and Declan could read her bewildered expression quite well: How am I supposed to be a good server when service is denied? The girl was really young, eighteen at most, and she had probably just started training or maybe she was even still at school, trying to earn some extra money after class.

School... how easy life had been when they had all still been students. Declan’s mind drifted off again but only for a few moments until the girly voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I can go back and get ya our menu with the specials? Maybe ya just need a lil’ inspiration, eh? Just take a look, ya might find somethin' that strikes your-”

“No!” Feeling that he might have interrupted her a little harshly, Declan smiled at the girl, glancing at the little nameplate over her chest. “No, thank you... Rosalie. I’m waitin’ for someone, I’ll order later if that’s okay with you.”

Rosalie cocked her head again and she eventually sighed and shrugged, putting her little stationery as well as her pen back into the little pocket of her apron. “Fine with me? Just do a little wave or somethin’, and I’ll be right back!”

“Thank you!”

Declan appreciated the young girl’s enthusiasm and kindness but he didn’t feel like talking to anyone just right now. He nervously looked around the little diner and while he really missed the familiarity of The Dirty Deed, he had figured that it would be for the better to do this on neutral ground, without any inquisitive eyes around them.

He checked his phone for the time and realised that Mick was a little late. That wasn’t unusual - he had always been a somewhat confused soul. They both were - Declan was well aware of his own chaos - but Mick had this special kind of absentmindedness that could both be endearing and irritating but when he thought back to all the situations caused by said absentmindedness now, Declan merely smiled to himself. He had never fully realised how much he had liked Mick’s little quirks until he had decided to be no longer a part of his life.

It has been six very long months at this point. Far too long, Declan thought, but he was hoping that the situation might change for the better today.

About five minutes later - just when he pondered the idea of waving Rosalie over anyway - the diner’s door opened, causing the little doorbell to happily chime, eagerly announcing the new guest and when Declan spotted the familiar figure walking in, he could feel the little lump in his throat growing bigger. He swallowed hard, feeling even more nervous than before and his mind suddenly worked hard to come up with the weirdest thoughts.

What if he’s in one of his weird moods? What if he pulls me right over the table and knocks me out?

Nah, don’t be ridiculous, he has already kind of done that, remember? It just ain’t that much fun the second time.

But what if he doesn’t listen anyway? What if he only comes here to enjoy the sight of me being in agony?

Oh come on, don’t be an arsehole again. He’s not a sociopath. Even if he still hates you, he cares about Ash. Give him more credit already!

Fine. I’ll just wait and see, I guess.

Wise decision.

Declan was so caught up in his thoughts that, when he looked back up, he had lost sight of Mick but his confusion didn’t last terribly long - his former friend just slumped into the seat across from the little table between them, shrugging off some of the cold from outside when he took off his jacket, tossing it on the empty chair next to both of them, on top of Declan’s. 

Oh god, what do I even say now? I think I’m panicking. Quick, mind, come up with something to say! Something smart. Hurry! I can’t just say hi, that’s too-

“So.” Mick interrupted his thoughts, putting his forearms to the armrests of the chair, shooting him a challenging glance. He looked different than the last time Declan had seen him - less neat, the most notable change being his unusually long light hair - it had grown out to almost shoulder length.

Declan thought that he looked a bit like a deranged elf and he found the thought oddly amusing although the situation wasn’t funny at all. Looking closer, he couldn’t help but feel that Mick’s deranged-elf version looked a wee bit menacing but that was probably just his own perception, because in this moment he felt utterly terrible for everything he had ever done to him, that he had every right to look at him like he did, and it was the moment when he eventually understood that this hasn’t been about a woman between them in a long time.

This was about them - two grown up men and formerly best friends - having grown apart somewhere on their way, neither of them really knowing why and when it had happened and Declan realised that, whatever the outcome of today might be, things would never be like they used to be again, either way.

“Uhm.” Declan swallowed again, frantically searching for the last bit of his confidence but it had probably bolted once Mick had entered the diner... whatever.

“Ya look like shit, y’know.” Mick cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

Ouch. Well, at least it doesn’t look like he’s gonna kick my arse.

“Yup, I know. I thought I’d make my appearance match my mood.”

“Hm!” Mick pursed his lips now, giving him a little nod of approval. “Kinda worked.”

“Thank you!”

It was so odd - they had only exchanged a few words at this point, not even the nicest of all words, and Declan had already cheered up heaps. Just having Mick sit here with him felt like such a relief, even though he didn’t know whether they would ever find a way to become friends again.

When Mick didn’t say anything for a while, Declan could no longer hold it in.

“The hell is goin’ on up there, man?” he asked, tipping a finger to his own head, referring to the new look that Mick presented today - he was usually really fussy about his appearance and he always made sure to wear his hair in some neat ‘do but nothing was left of that today.

When Mick realised what Declan was talking about, his eyes went wide in disbelief. “Yer not seriously talkin’ about my hair now, are you?”

“Nah, I just think it’s-”

“What?”

“Woah, don’t gimme the death glare now, I was just saying-”

“Shut up.”

“But-”

“No!”

“Kurt Cobain would be proud!?”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry!” Declan cried out. “I just wasn’t prepared for that sight, that’s all!”

Mick made a face and casually crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “Look who’s talkin’, man. You look like y' just crawled outta the next dump.”

“Yeah, but I’m depressed!”

There was a pause. The banter was over, the ice was broken, Declan could feel it.

“Aye, I bet y’are.” Mick merely said after a few moments and Declan could literally watch him lowering his guard a little. There were a few more moments of silence before Mick went on. “So, it’s, really... y’know...?”

“Yeah. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia, or something like that.”

“Well, shit.”

Declan nodded. “It’s still in an early stage, as it seems. They’re running a few more tests these days, chances of recovery are good but still...”

“It’s a huge pile o’ shit.”

“Yeah. I mean, he still has to go through treatment hell, man. Chemotherapy, radiation... I don’t even wanna think about it.”

Mick merely looked at him, biting his lip. There was concern in his eyes, it was obvious, it was genuine and Declan took it as a silent encouragement to go on.

“I feel sick when I think about it. I mean, I know you’ve seen some hospitals from the inside but have you ever been to a pediatric cancer ward?”

“No.” Mick shook his head.

“That’s the most depressing shit I’ve ever seen. The only way I can picture my kid is happy and healthy. I don’t think I can handle that, man. I know I have to but I don’t know how. I feel so goddamn fuckin’ useless.”

A few more moments of silence until Mick cleared his throat. “I, uhm. I dunno what to say, to be honest.” He looked down to his folded hands on the table.

Declan smiled a faint smile, actually appreciating the fact that Mick was lost for words as he had quite a few people coming up to him within the past few days, people he had met in the hospital only minutes ago at the time, people who didn’t even know him and who felt the need to tell him to “think positive” or that “everything will turn out just fine” and while he knew that they didn’t mean any harm, quite the opposite even, they had still made him want to snap some of their bones, preferably one for each empty word they had uttered.

Today wasn’t about random people with useless advice, though. It was about winning back a lifetime friend. Declan took a deep breath.

“Look, man, I can’t undo what I did, okay? I want to. So bad. You have no idea. This is not me trying to pull at your heartstrings or something but... please stick around for a while, okay? ”

“Dipso-”

The use of his old nickname surprised Declan a little but he couldn’t be sure if it was really a good sign, so he went on.

“No, honestly - I’m begging you. You don’t even have to do this for me, y’know. Do it for him, okay? Because for some weird reason that kid loves you. Personally, I can’t think of any reason why but he does. Just... consider it for a bit. It’s all about him.” Declan could feel his voice trembling so he stopped right there.

The voices in his head had long stopped making silly noise, too, as they were now tense with fearful anticipation.

It was the moment. I hope he still knows that this is our way of saying that we miss him and want him back.

Mick shot Declan an uninterpretable glance before he let out a little sigh. “Y'know what? I’m starvin’. What about you?”

Okay, what the hell? What is wrong with this man? I thought we were having a moment here!

“Erm, wh- I- what?” Declan blinked.

“I can‘t stick around while I’m starvin’, man!”

“You’re enjoying this, aren‘t you?” Declan grumbled but he wasn’t mad at all.

“A bit?” Mick smiled. “Sorry.”

Declan smiled back briefly before he realised that he was hungry.

“Actually... now that you mentioned it, I could eat? My appetite hasn’t been grand lately but right now...?”

“Right. Food, then.” Mick looked around the diner. “Are actual people workin’ here or what?”

“Yeah, wait, I got this.” Declan said as he looked around the place, too, and when he found the person he was looking for, he raised his arm.

“Hey, Rosalie!”

***

(... to be continued.)

[seajudge]

@seavillain:

see now, this is getting into territory that jacob hadn't predicted, and while he's never afraid to improvise, this is also verging into dangerous territory. dangerous, painful territory. the kind of territory that brings up bad memories, half-formed and blurred by drink, by drugs, by time. he’d thought he was ever so clever, made himself out to be this clumsy charming guy, but the truth was that after the first (real) accident, everything else was conjured. he got into fights that left him bruised, left his managers panicking about how a broken nose might affect his appearance - and therefore, his appeal to audiences. after all, appeal equals sales equal money, which is the most important thing. the bottom line is the bottom line, he thought ironically to himself. 

he’s been here before, he recognises the carefully hidden clipboard, the notes guarded too casually by doctor trewhella. he was what people like to call a troubled kid - if he’d had less money he would have just been a plain old bad kid. but money talks, money talks loudly enough to drown out everything including authenticity. “shame about that. sure there’s plenty patients who’d like to get attached to you.” despite his internal misgivings about the turn that the appointment has taken, jacob has a persona to upkeep. 

jacob resists the temptation to glance down at the hand on his arm, the touch that’s not so clinical, so necessary. “well, i could. you just don’t want me to.” jacob replies jokingly. his humour was somewhat drier than his american compatriots, his sarcasm not unknown for being biting and bordering on cruel, when he chose. there’s a flicker of honesty in jacob. he feels he could tell the doctor about everything, about his stupid choices, his smothering contract, his childhood. instead, he bites it all back, pushes it away like he always has.

“the issue is, i’m a clumsy bastard. always have been. alright, maybe i drink a little too much on occasion - it comes with the job, innit. occupational hazard.” he smiles, and the edges are grimmer than intended. “i fall over stuff, say the wrong thing, get my lights punched out. regret in the morning until the next time.” he can pre-empt what the doctor will say now, so he carries on. better for him to send him off and think him an alcoholic than to know he’s been seeking excuses and putting himself in harms way just to meet the good doctor. “i’ve tried rehab, twelve steps, god give me the wisdom and the courage. it’s not for me. i’m just as bad as my father, guess it's genetic." he hadn't meant to say that, shrugs off the discomfort. his hand covers the doctors. 

 "do you want to see me again, though. that's the question." well, nothing like diving right in.

    jacob’s tongue is quick as a biting snake, and if he were a lesser man, he’d be convinced. yet all daniel can think about is what a great big fool he is (two of a kind). he feels like an animal caged in the zoo, pressed up against the plexiglass, screaming: don’t you get it, don’t you understand, no one wants to get attached to me and neither do you. your mind will change and you’ll wander off and you’ll find someone normal—

   once, in a heated fight (over what, he can’t even recall, but he suspects it was something to do with adrienna and her frequent disappearances), his sister had told him that the medical field was one of the chief occupations that psychopaths were drawn to, and what did that say about daniel? that had stung worse than a slap. she’d apologized later, of course, and she’d seemed to have truly meant it, but the damage was already done by then. the thought had stuck like chewed gum, and for weeks his google searches on his crappy little laptop (and his thoughts) had consisted of things like, am i a psychopath if i want to be a doctor? do i really want to help anyone, or just myself?

           looking at jacob, he can’t help but think about it, even if he’s mostly over the whole thing by now. it’s not just a breach of legal code if he pursues something here, but a breach of his own moral one. it makes him the thing that everyone must suspect him of being, when they see him smile without his eyes getting involved. everyone always thinks they want him until they lift the layers and see what’s beneath. this is no different, really, so why does he even bother? why look into jacob’s dark, abyssal eyes and consider it, even for a moment? ‘ i think you’d be surprised, ’ daniel says, voice only slightly hoarse, and he’s not sure what he’s referencing when he says that, exactly. no one should get attached to me, especially not you. ‘ genetics aren’t the end-all be-all, you know. ’ don’t they know it best.

         admittedly, daniel lets it linger on too long, enjoying the warmth of a hand against his—letting his eyelashes flutter against his cheek, posture wobbling just a little. he could. he could curl up against jacob’s chest, fall asleep to the rhythm of jacob’s slamming heart in his ears. the rooms are relatively private, and everyone knocks. it’d be so easy, like slipping into a warm bath. daniel leans, just a little, at the thought.

       but it’s not a question of ease, is it. it’s a question of worth. his hand twitches, stiffens, but doesn’t pull away, doesn’t say no, i don’t want to see you. ‘ i think you have me misunderstood, mr. hawke. ’ said in a whisper, like they’re telling secrets. in a way, they are, aren’t they? and daniel has the biggest one. he looks at his feet, then back up, trying to find the courage to say it. 

   ‘ you just like me because i’m forbidden. ’ he smiles at jacob, but it’s sad, knowing. a squeeze of the hand and he pulls away, reestablishing the physical space that they’d so easily crossed. ‘ one day with me, one real day, and you’d be tired. the thing you want, the person you want? he doesn’t exist. it’s just an idea. and when you realize that, you’ll trade me. you’ll wish ... ’ for what? daniel doesn’t know.

      ‘ ... it’s not wise to pursue, jacob. i’m sorry. ’ but that doesn’t erase their problem, does it? jacob’s still not well, and to be honest, neither is daniel.

   ‘ please. let me recommend you a psychiatrist, at the least. and ... ’ he hesitates a moment, then seems to make a decision. for all his talk of not wise and i’m sorry, he takes the patient evaluation sheet and scribbles two lines of numbers, handing it jacob’s way. ‘ the first is a clinic that can get you evaluated. and the second ... well, this is my personal phone. if you need someone, i ... i’d like to be there. to be your friend, if that’s possible. ’

[tywriteskpop]

Transparent (Park Jinyoung)-Chapter 2

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Comedy

It seemed to take an eternity for his words to register in your mind. Questions clouded your head, and you found it difficult to properly form a sentence out loud. You found yourself stuttering.

“You’re the...I mean I...How is he-“ Your gaze was moving rapidly between the brothers. When you realized you couldn’t say what you wanted, you huffed and drooped your shoulders. “I give up.”

Jinyoung chuckled at your frantic behavior. “Y/N, this is my younger brother. I’m sure you recognize him.” He motioned to the younger boy and you nodded numbly.

Youngjae bowed politely in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

You stuttered before you properly bowed back, wary of what you should do in their presence. You’ve never met anyone from the royal family before this moment. And now you were faced with the faceless prince and his presumed dead brother.

“I assume you have a lot of questions,” Jinyoung continued. “Care for a walk? I’ll explain everything to you.”

Before you could accept, Youngjae strutted to his brother’s side. “Are you sure that’s a wise idea, Jinyoung?” He whispered. “We don’t know this girl well enough.”

Jinyoung nodded shortly before whispering back, “I’ve been observing her. She is genuine. You’ll be the first to know if I feel as if I made a mistake.” He turned back to you and smiled. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

You walked beside him as he led you through a large garden behind the mansion. The lawn was a vibrant, lush green, cut neatly and evenly. The tiled path you walked on was smooth, a soft peach color that made you feel warm. Finely trimmed hedges lined the path for you, the occasional archway opening a new section of the garden to you every few yards. Small garden statues littered across the lawn with bigger ones posing as landmarks for each section of the garden.

When you came to the center of the garden, you were greeted by a large fountain. The statue decorating the fountain made you want to laugh, but you also had a deep appreciation for how glorious it looked.

“You made your dog into a fountain?” you asked, your voice cracking at the strain from trying not to laugh.

Jinyoung shrugged, a light pink dusting his cheeks at the slight embarrassment he felt. “It was my friend’s idea.” As he spoke, Kenai ran around the two of you towards the fountain. Disregarding the steady stream of water pouring down, the dog ducked under it as he splashed through the bowl-like base. “Besides, Kenai here loves it.”

As if he understood the conversation being held, the dog turned and sat down, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He shook his hair out, leaving parts of it ragged and messy. Kenai sat there, staring at you both, an exact likeness to his statue counterpart.

“You must have had him pose for this,” you joked.

The boy chuckled at your exasperated tone. The normality of his boyish expression made you momentarily forget that he was regal, and you quickly clammed up. He must have noticed your apprehension, so Jinyoung cleared his throat and motioned for you to continue your stroll.

“There is no need for you to be anxious around me, I assure you,” he said. “You are not in any trouble.”

“No offense, but that doesn’t exactly make me feel like I’m not teetering on the edge of insanity,” you huffed. “I mean, put yourself in my shoes. How would you feel if suddenly you were met by the royal princes, one of which is a mystery and the other who is supposed to be dead?”

Jinyoung pondered your words for a moment, his lower lip jutting out in thought. He nodded his head slowly as his eyes raked across the garden hedges. “Alright, I’ll put myself in your shoes. I’d feel confused, and probably have a lot of questions. Maybe a bit panicked because I wouldn’t know how to act or speak around them, not knowing how to ask the questions that are burning inside of my head.” He brought his gaze back to you and smirked when he saw you pouting. “Am I close enough?”

You sighed and dropped your shoulders. “Dead on. You’re a smarty pants, aren’t you?”

His smirk grew and he shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps I should just tell you our story. Save you some questions.”

“Please and thank you.”

Thus, the prince began telling you the story that answered all of your questions.

“The time I was born, my parents received a terrifying threat. It posed a danger to my life, so I was hidden away. I spent my entire life living here, away from my parents.”

You felt a slight tug at your heart. “That had to be hard.”

He only nodded before continuing his story. “Two years later, my brother was born. No threats came, so my parents deemed him safe. They were foolish. They assumed I was the only target. But whoever threatened us is after the throne.”

“Which means you’re all targets,” you realized.

“Correct.” Jinyoung turned to look you in the eye. As he spoke, you could see the turmoil clouding his emotions. “My relationship with Youngjae was strained, almost nonexistent, because of our separation. We hardly saw each other, barely knew each other. I never truly knew how it felt to be an older brother, until five years ago.”

Five years ago. That year was a tragic time for everyone. A royal convoy escorting the king and his second son was attacked. An unknown assailant had planted a bomb inside the car. When the convoy reached the center square of the city, the assailant activated the explosive, creating massive damage. Many people were injured simply from being in the bomb’s proximity. The king was killed, and supposedly the prince died during surgery.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

The two of you stopped in front of a statue. When you looked up, you immediately recognized the figure that the statue portrayed. The late king stood gloriously in front of you, albeit made of polished stone. Still, the sculpture grasped the dignifying authority and regality that the king had possessed.

“I never really knew him that well,” Jinyoung admitted. “The bond between my parents and I was as fragile as it was with my brother. But when I learned what had happened, I fell into a panic. I had lost my father, and I didn’t know if Youngjae would survive.”

You hesitated for a moment before asking, “How did he survive?”

The prince released a humorless laugh. “By some miracle, perhaps. After his surgery, he was teetering between life and death. My mother used the opportunity to fake his death without knowing if he’d live or not. She told the public he died on the table.

“Thankfully he pulled through, and my mother had him moved here in secret. We live here alone with Kenai and our guards. Very few know we’re here. Only those we trust the most are aware of our location.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, giving him a suspicious stare. “So why tell me?” you asked. “You don’t know me. How do you know I won’t go telling everyone?”

Jinyoung turned to face you fully, pulling his hands behind his back. He looked so full of authority right then, you almost regret challenging his decision. You couldn’t read his expression, but nevertheless you stood your ground.

“I pray it doesn’t come to that,” he said. “I’ve seen how you are. You have an unwavering caring heart. You run the center, you take care of people less fortunate.”

You wanted to tell him that you only did it for your grandmother. That you didn’t want the responsibility. But you knew you’d be lying to yourself. You could have let the center shut down. But your grandmother raised you to help those in need, because you could easily be one of them. Everyone needs help.

And looking into Jinyoung’s eyes told you what he wouldn’t say out loud. He wanted your help. But for what, you didn’t know. You sighed and nodded in agreement, not knowing exactly what you were getting into. But you’ve come too far to back away.

“Okay,” you relented. “You obviously want me to do something.”

“Perceptive. I have a proposition for you.”

“And that would be?”

“Move into the manor.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva, hastily clearing your throat. He must have found amusement at the sight, his smirk returning to his lips.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” you snapped, your eyes wide.

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I do, actually.”

“Do you take pleasure in making people trip over themselves?”

A small pout graced his lips as he looked away in thought, humming to himself. “No, you just make it easy.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. “Gee, thanks for the mental face plant, your highness. But seriously, why do you want me to move in with you? It’s one thing to tell me your darkest secrets that could ultimately get you killed, but letting me live under the same roof? I could be an assassin in disguise, you know.”

Jinyoung shot you a disbelieving look, one eyebrow raised as his gaze traveled over your form. “I find that hard to believe, truly. You’re not exactly killer material.”

“I’m not sure if I should be insulted or flattered.”

“Take it as you will,” he said. “Regardless, I’d like to offer you a job as a caretaker here. It would be easiest if you moved in.”

“A caretaker?” You thought for a moment. You had been ready to go find a job before finding Kenai, and here a job was dangling before you. But you were skeptical about the conditions that came with it. “What exactly would I be doing?”

Jinyoung smirked, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “Are you actually considering it?”

You folded your arms and gave him an exhausted look. “Would you rather me walk out of here right now?”

The prince scoffed lightly. “How grateful.”

“You have two seconds,” you warned.

Clearing his throat, he continued. “Exactly as it sounds. We do a well enough job taking care of the upkeep around here. But it would be easier if we had another. Not to mention we can’t exactly show ourselves to the public, so any outside errands are tricky to get done.”

The job didn’t sound hard. In fact it sounded like your everyday life. Preparing food and fresh clothes is what you did every day for the volunteer center. And the extra money you earned with this job would allow you to provide further resources to keep your center running. The only downside to the whole thing would be moving out of your apartment. Not to mention you’d be keeping your second life a secret from other people to keep the princes safe from the public. But you could get around that, right?

“Deal,” you said. “Doesn’t sound hard.”

“Excellent!” Jinyoung said. “You’ll relocate here as soon as you can. I’ll expect you to accompany me on some occasions.”

With that being said, the prince walked away, heading back towards the manor.

“What occasions?” you asked. When he didn’t answer, you jogged to catch up with him. “Hey!”

You rubbed your aching head as you opened the side door to the center. It’s only been 24 hours since you made the deal with the hidden prince, and already your anxiety about packing up your apartment has given you a headache. Walking over the threshold, you were surprised to find your volunteer workers strewn about the big room, talking excitedly amongst each other.

“What’s going on?” you mumbled.

BamBam strolled up to you and grabbed your arm hurriedly. “What happened yesterday after I left you?” He whispered, guiding you to your office.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why are two of the most prominent sons in the country sitting in your office waiting to talk to you?” he asked again. You were so confused that you just stared blankly at him. The boy rolled his eyes. “Mark Tuan and Im Jaebum.”

“What?!” you practically shouted.

You brushed past your best friend and turned the corner to your office. Sure enough, the two young men were seated patiently at your desk. You couldn’t think of any reason that they would be here. Nonetheless, you took a breath and walked into the room proudly, taking your seat calmly.

“Call if you need,” BamBam said, closing the door.

The two young men looked at you expectantly as you leaned back in your chair. “So what do I owe this pleasure? Not every day I get two members of prominent families in my center.”

Mark’s lips turned up into an amused grin. “She meets the prince for one day and she thinks she’s so confident.”

You faltered, your eyes going wide and you glanced to the door to make sure it was closed completely. “He sent you here?” you asked, dumbfounded. “Is he insane?”

“Is that any way to talk about your prince behind his back?” Jaebum joked.

You turned to him and huffed. “After yesterday, yes. Now are you here to tease me or expose him?”

“Neither,” Mark answered. He pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to you across the desk. “He asked us to give this to you. See, with it being difficult to show himself in public, the two of us do a lot of his outside business in secret.”

“We’ll leave you our contact information for just in case purposes,” Jaebum continued. “But you’ll see us at the manor more often than not.”

Your gaze drifted from the envelope in your hand to the two men in front of you. “What exactly have I gotten myself into?” you whined.

“We’re not that bad,” Mark said. “Besides, I think you’ll think differently when you open up that envelope.”

With a skeptical sigh, you opened the slip and pulled out the contents. Your breath caught your throat as you read the numbers on the written check in your hand.

“Is he serious?” you croaked out.

Jaebum nodded. “Part of the deal that he didn’t disclose with you yesterday is that you allow him to keep this center up and running. So he’ll be providing any funds you’ll need to operate.”

“He really is insane.”

Mark nodded in agreement. “To a degree. We’ll be around if you need any extra help. Just give us a call.”

After leaving you their numbers, the two of them left. BamBam walked into your office a few minutes later to see you quietly staring at the check. You hadn’t even realized he was there, being too lost in your thoughts to notice him. He walked to your desk and picked up the check, knocking you out of your reverie.

The boy nearly choked on air when he saw how much the check was worth. “Is this for real? This could keep the center running for months!”

A note was folded inside the envelope with the check. You held it in your hand, lightly crumpling it before sighing and opening it.

”I hope you don’t mind, but Mark takes care of all of my funding, so my money is under his name. Consider this as a token of my gratitude, and my faith in you. I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N.

-Faceless”

“Who is Faceless?” BamBam read the note over your shoulder. The check was still in his hand, but you clearly saw the name Mark Tuan written on the check. Now you know how Jinyoung got around his financial stupor while in hiding.

“It’s a long story.”

“So you’re telling me, you got a new job after finding a lost dog, and your employer is a secret?”

You sighed at BamBam’s disbelieving tone. “That’s the simplified version, I guess.”

“Sorry, but the whole thing sounds crazy,” your best friend said. “I mean, seriously, Y/N. How do you know you can trust this mystery employer?”

“Look, Bam, I met the guy face to face. I just can’t tell you who he is. He likes his privacy.” Lying to your best, albeit only, friend hurt you, but you couldn’t tell him anything. If watching dramas on television taught you anything, it was that the more you knew, the more danger you were in. If someone was still after Jinyoung’s life to take the throne, then you had to keep BamBam from getting involved. It was the only way you could think of to keep him safe.

“And you sure he’s a decent guy? How old is he anyway?”

You leaned your chin on your hand, giving him a dead stare. “I highly doubt his age matters, dude. Look, the point is, he checks out. And his check checks out. This could keep our center running, and I’m not about to lose that opportunity.” You grimaced as you remembered the last detail you forgot to mention. “Oh yeah, I kind of have to move.”

His jawed dropped, looking at you in disbelief. “You’re moving into his place?”

“Nothing’s going to happen!” you defended. “You know that big mansion with the large plot of land?”

“You’re kidding. That’s your employer? You’re going to overwork yourself taking care of that castle!”

You waved your hand to dismiss him. “Hardly. Between him and his brother, that place is practically spotless. I’m just added to the clean up crew.”

BamBam leaned forward and sighed, rubbing his face in an attempt to reduce his anxiety over the situation. “If you’re sure about this, I’ll leave it alone. But don’t hesitate to tell me the moment something goes wrong. You can move in with me if something happens.”

Your shoulders slumped in relief. “Wow, being your best friend has its perks.”

He scoffed. “And being yours is a pain in the ass.”

You crumpled up some stray paper into a ball and threw it at his face. “Don’t be a jerk,” you laughed. “Thanks, though. Seriously, I’m freaking out about the whole thing too. But I feel like it’ll work out.”

“Yeah, sure.” BamBam hummed and leaned back in his chair. “So what’s this guy like? In ten words or less?”

You thought for a moment, running the entire day before through your mind. You tapped your pen on the desk as you settled on the perfect description of the young prince.

“A royal pain in the ass.”

[angelkurenai]

Imagine having a bad fight with your fiance, Jensen, when he thinks you’re cheating on him with your ex, Tom, and running to him for comfort. Only to worry Jensen even more when you don’t answer any calls.

Related to these: Imagine while at the Comic Con with your boyfriend Jensen, you run into your ex Tom whose feelings for you have not changed one bit. (Part 1)

Imagine getting a role in a movie with your ex Tom and Jensen, your current boyfriend, getting jealous and worried. (Part 2)

Imagine Jensen, your boyfriend, visiting you on set when you have a intense kissing scene with your ex and costar, Tom. (Part 3)

Imagine being engaged to Jensen and being involved in a scandal when you’re seen out on a “date” with your ex, Tom Hiddleston. (Part 4)

It felt like someone was playing a sick joke on you, making your life look like some terrible drama romance movie as along with your blurry vision clouds formed in the sky and in seconds rain poured down. You drove just as fast as before, which wasn't such a good decision considering it was raining cats and dogs. You swerved a couple times and in the end just slammed on the breaks, making the car come to a halt. You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle theuncontrollable sobs that would leave your lips, shutting your eyes as the tears fell worse than the rain outside. It was nighttime by now, and leaving in such a condition and with such a weather wasn't a wise decision but you couldn't face him another second. It wasn't the man you loved, not the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, facing you that moment. And although you saw a flash of Jensen when you took off the ring you still couldn't stay.

You clenched the steering wheel in your fist, eyes shut tightly as your entire body was shaking. You heard the messages arriving and breaking the silence numerous times during the ride, and when it wasn't that it was calls. At this moment your phone was ringing once more and just the thought of Jensen being on the other end, waiting for you to pick up, while pacing around nervously and anxiously because you had left with such a weather and an emotional mess. He was getting worried but you didn't have the mind to think about that. Your sobs were getting too much for you to handle, you couldn't even breathe, and all you needed was to get out of this small space of your car and breathe fresh air. Not even caring about the rain you pushed the door open and climbed out, eyes casted to the ground as you let the downpour soakyou to the bone.

You were only relieved you could feel your lungs working properly again. You gritted your teeth and with shaky hands you reached in and took the keys, locking your car and pushing away from it. With wobbly legs you walked down the road, arms wrapped around yourself, and eyes casted down. You didn't need another look other the first one you got a few minutes ago. You knew this road.

You didn't even think about taking your phone, it would just make things worse. You didn't know how you'd ended up here but you didn't care to mind it now as you walked up the few stairs of the porch. You knew you looked like a mess but you still brought your hand up and knocked twice on the door. You knew your chances of him being home and even more awake at this time were very slim but if something had driven you to come here then you were going to give it a try. You stood there in front of the door, shaking as your tears mixed with the raindrops rolling down your face, the house providing you some sort of shelter but somehow making you feel more cold than when the rain was pouring down on you.

You knocked once more, a last time, ready to leave already – mostly because you regretted the decision of walking up to this house in the first place. Out of all the houses this was the most wrong one after what had happened but-

“(Y/n)?”he breathed out in shock with wide eyes as he ran his fingers through his messy hair.

You wanted to give him a smile, you really tried to, but you were a mess both physically and emotionally. Makeup smeared, clothes and hair wet, eyes red and puffy, and your frame shaking you just couldn't fake it.

“What happened?” he asked in panick as you shut your eyes and let the sobs leave your throat once more.

“Tom” you only choked out before you crashed in his arms, whimpers mixing with sobs and your tears. And the man didn't question you any more than that.

~*~

“You know I never pressured you for anything, but at this point I'm- I'm really worried about you, love.” he whispered, an almost scared frown on his face as he placed a hand on your shoulder so gently because he was afraid you were going to break.

You didn't say a word, you only locked eyes with him for a second before focusing back on your warm cup of chocolate. You had not drunk much of it, your throat felt closed, but you at least appreciated the warmth it gave you. Your legs were curled underneath you and the softness of Tom's pjs was all you needed at the moment.

He sigh, his eyes casting down as his hand fell from your shoulder “I know it's not my place to ask, sometimes I forget we are not-” he stopped himself, pursing his lips and frowning sadly. You took notice as you looked at him cautiously.

“That things are not the same anymore. But I think about you.” he breathed out in the end “I think and now worry about you, (Y/n). And if there is anything I could... possibly do, then I want you to know I am here. For everything you need from me.”

At his words you felt worse, and you slowly extended a hand to place on top of his; making his eyes lock with yours this time. You let a soft sigh, placing the cup on the coffee table and slowly itching closer to him; your eyes all the while casted down at your hands “I know that.” you finally whispered.

You looked up at him “I always know you're here for me Tom, and even when I don't think about it, I- I feel it deep down. That's why I found my way here... despite everything that happened.”

“(Y/n)” he squeezed your hand “What happened?” he asked in a low voice and a trembling sigh left your lips as you looked away from him.

“I-” you smiled bitterly “I can't be with a man that doesn't believe or trust me, that's what happened.”

“Wh-what?” he tilted his head to the side as you clenched your jaw, fighting back the tears.

“He saw the photos. Of the two of us at that restaurant.” you breathed out.

“What?” his back straightened “Photos? There- there were paparazzi? We-”

“We didn't notice a thing, of course, but it seemed like it was all too convenient for them cause it was after Andy had left. And Jensen- he saw it on the net and he believe that we- I-”

“That you're cheating on him?!” he breathed out with wide eyes and you nodded your head weakly.

“He-” he smiled bitterly as tears welled up in your eyes “He all but accused me of constantly lying to him. It was- I will admit I didn't tell him I'd be seeing you that night but- but it was only because I knew he'd be angry at it.” you said shakily, trying to keep yourself from just breaking down again, as Tom raised an eyebrow “He's been having problems with this ever since that- that Con, jealousy or worry or both I can't tell but he should have faith in me, Tom. I never have nor would cheat on him and yet...”

“He said you did.” he breathed out before clenching his jaw and nodding his head “I can't believe he did.”

“I- I would never do that to a man, Tom, you- you know it, right? You- you know me, I couldn't hurt the man I love in that way but he- he decided he was just going to believe some gossip news instead of the woman he wanted to spend his life with.”

“It's because he doesn't know you at all, then.” he said in a rough voice and you could see anger clearly evident in his features “He can't see nor appreciate the treasure he has by his side. He can't see how blessed he is to have your love and the chance of spending his life with you and he's being a total and utter bastard.” he gritted his teeth, shaking his head.

“He said I was lying about going out with the girls tonight, he said I was coming to you and cheating on him and- and that you'd-” you felt your throat close and almost choked on a sob.

“He's an idiot, damn it he is.” he growled, not hesitating to gather you in his arms, wrapping your smaller form in his and hugging you as close as he could to his chest “He can't appreciate you enough if he thinks so low of you, love. It's not your fault, though, because I know what you're thinking about it.”

“I've- I've blamed myself for your break up for so long, Tom.” you confessed in a whisper “I never told you, I know, but I always did. I had a hard time trusting others, and after our split up I thought I'd never find happiness or love.” you laughed bitterly “Turns out I never did actually.” you shrugged numbly, missing the way the man stared down at you with wide eyes.

“I never knew.” he whispered “I didn't- I blamed only myself, never you, I just-” he couldn't form any proper words and you just gave him a sad smile.

“I know Tom, we were both probably to blame, but it doesn't matter now. It seems like I'm cursed or something.” you sighed, resting your head n his shoulder, tired of thinking.

“Don't say that, love, please.” he said with a deep frown “It's his mistake... mine as well. For everything that has happened these years. But you are the last one to blame, you only deserve happiness and love and we both fucked up.” he breathed out in frustration, running his fingers through his hair.

“I don't know anymore.” you shrugged, sniffling “I just couldn't face him so I only-” you let out a trembling sigh, hastily wiping away a tear that rolled down your cheek “I took off the ring, gave it to him and drove as far away as possible. I couldn't be there anymore.”

“What?” his eyes widened as he looked down at your hand where the engagement ring used to be “You did-”

“I dont want to talk about it now, Tom.” you whispered, sighing “Do you think I- I could crash somewhere? Even the floor is better than- than anywhere else.”

“Oh darling.” he breathed out, his hands moving so that he could cup your face and make you look at him “You know this is always going to be your home as well, whenever you need it or me we are both here. Just because everything's... gone the way it has doesn't change how I feel or think of you. We first shared that bedroom together when we got this house, it's yours for tonight and however long you want to stay here.”

“Tom I- I can't let you out of your own-”

“Love” he said firmly, eyes looking intensely back at you “I'll take the guest room, you need the comfort tonight. And you know you can't fight me on this.”

You sighed in defeat “Tom can you promise me that even if he calls you are not going to let him know I'm here?”

He pursed his lips and nodded his head “Promise.”

~The following morning~

To say you had gotten any shut eye would be a major lie. Every time you actually drifted to sleep you'd end up waking up because of nightmares or even worse, mostly during the morning, because of morning sickness. Your stomach was a mess these days, Tom knew very well of that because he'd taken the time to notice but Jensen had no idea because he wouldn't let you even explain it the previous night.

You stared at the ceiling with glassy eyes, your head pounding. And to think you had not brought your phone from your car, because if you had it would only make matters worse. Part of you felt bad for not saying a single thing to him of where you were going, not that you had any idea, but after what had happened you didn't know if you could say a single thing to him anymore not to mention face him. He could be worried sick at the moment and you would feel guilty about it if it wasn't for your stomach giving you a hell of a morning. Once again.

You ran a hand down your face in frustration, just appreciating the fact that you were dry and had no tears to spill. You turned on your side, facing the room you had grown to love over the years, even if it has been a while since you last saw it now, because you had actually helped place everything in it with Tom. Speaking of which. You could smell the breakfast cooking downstairs for the two of you and some soft humming. You caught yourself smiling just slightly as you got up from bed and left the room to walk downstairs. You made your way to the kitchen where you found him focused all over the food he was cooking.

“I thought I told you that's not the way to go with pancakes.” you said with a soft smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“Not your way probably, but in Britain we do it differently my lady.” he said in his beautiful accent, smiling more when he heard a giggle leave your lips. For a moment it felt foreign for you but it was certainly welcomed as you felt your heart warm up just a bit.

“It's just pancakes, William.” you said uncrossed your arms, walking towards him “There is no specific science for them.”

“That is what you insist. But I shall prove you wrong. It must have been a while since you last had a proper British breakfast, am I correct?” he glanced at you as you rested your weight on the kitchen counter now.

“I guess it has, but that's why you are always here for... Is that how Shakespeare liked them?” you caught yourself teasing with a soft grin and when you heard him chuckle you felt like a big weight was lifted off your chest.

“That detail I do not know, I am afraid so.” he said playfully dramatically “But I shall find out.” he winked as you grinned “Until then we are going to enjoy his companion.”

“Do tell, is he in the guest room?” you teased and he laughed, shaking his head.

“I am afraid, only in my bookshelves.” he sighed, shaking his head and shrugging.

“What a shame, I'm sure he'd be very honored, glad and happy to meet you.” you breathed out, getting closer to him “Just as I am.” you added and he stopped, his smile falling for a moment as he looked at you.

He slowly extended a hand, tucking a few strands behind your each before cupping your cheek “I will never forgive myself for what happened between us, mutual or not, but I will be damned if I let myself pull away even for a second. Especially when you need me the most.” he rubbed his thumb on your cheek “I am the truly happy one, (Y/n), to have you in my life.”

“Tom” you nuzzled your face in his palm “Thank you, for everything you did. If you weren't here for me last night I- I would be lost.”

“Jensen thinks you're cheating on him, that you are unfaithful, he chose to believe someone else but you. But he is a fool because he can't see what really lies in front of him... and he won't really see how special and unique you are until he's lost you for good.” he said with a deep frown “I know I did.”

Your eyes fluttered open, almost widening at his confession, and your eyebrows shot up in innocent shock. Your lips parted and you were ready to question him, the words Jensen had said before to you were always there, but you didn't get the chance to when the doorbell rang. He let a soft sigh, giving you a weak smile before letting his hand fall and pull away.

“Just a moment.” he whispered and you nodded your head.

You turned your attention to the cooking pancake, but just as you were about to flip it you heard Tom's voice and you almost dropped the pan at the word you heard crystal clear being called from your friend “Jensen?”

[drakeramoraythedoctor]

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options trading for income South Carolina The first of these is that some options traders trade options just like they trade stocks; buying call options with their whole account on that one "hot stock.

why am i forced to go to school i just want to learn more about options trading South Carolina Those that are conservative in their investment strategies might wish to limit options trading to a smaller part of their overall portfolio.

dr singh options trading review South Carolina This means that you do not have the luxury of holding on to bad trades forever, hoping they will come back in a few years time. Professional options traders like me only enter a single position with money we can afford to lose. If I intend to lose no more than 10% of my account on any one trade, I do not use more than 10% of my account in a single trade. That's right, you NEVER buy a single options position or options contract with all the money you have! Although that would have made sense in stock trading, it is pure suicide and gamble in options trading. The other reason is trading credit spreads or naked option writing without using stop loss. Many options beginners were taken in by the apparent "free money" phenomena of writing naked options positions unaware that most of these credit strategies have unlimited loss potential. For instance, if you wrote call options (shorting call options), you would make a fixed premium in profit if the stock went downwards or sideways. Some "gurus" call this "playing bookmaker". Well, they are right that you are playing bookmaker to gamblers by selling options to them but they forgot to mention the fact that sometimes, gamblers win big too. When you write call options, your position will make an incrementally bigger loss as the stock price rises! It will continue to make bigger and bigger loss as long as the stock continues to rise. This is what is known as an unlimited loss position. This loss is often, or always, much bigger than the premium you received from selling the options. Before you know it, your entire account is wiped out on this one trade because the stock refused to go down as you expected it to. Does that mean we should not trade credit spreads or naked writes ever again? Not really. These are excellent options strategies but only if you trade them using a specific and definite stop loss point. Yes, most options trading beginners trade such unlimited loss potential credit spreads with stop loss points but most of them give in to emotion when it's time to stop loss and hold their positions beyond their stop loss points in hope that things will turn around, which most often, they never do. Professional options traders always trade unlimited loss potential positions with an AUTOMATED stop loss point. That's right, automated stop loss that works without human involvement. This can be in the form of a stop limit, contingent order or trailing stop loss order. As long as you do not have to physically execute the stop loss. Physically executed stop losses are stop losses that rarely gets executed.

For instance, if you wrote call options (shorting call options), you would make a fixed premium in profit if the stock went downwards or sideways. Some "gurus" call this "playing bookmaker". Well, they are right that you are playing bookmaker to gamblers by selling options to them but they forgot to mention the fact that sometimes, gamblers win big too. When you write call options, your position will make an incrementally bigger loss as the stock price rises! It will continue to make bigger and bigger loss as long as the stock continues to rise. This is what is known as an unlimited loss position. This loss is often, or always, much bigger than the premium you received from selling the options. Before you know it, your entire account is wiped out on this one trade because the stock refused to go down as you expected it to. Does that mean we should not trade credit spreads or naked writes ever again? Not really. These are excellent options strategies but only if you trade them using a specific and definite stop loss point. Yes, most options trading beginners trade such unlimited loss potential credit spreads with stop loss points but most of them give in to emotion when it's time to stop loss and hold their positions beyond their stop loss points in hope that things will turn around, which most often, they never do. Professional options traders always trade unlimited loss potential positions with an AUTOMATED stop loss point.

[cosmosogler]

hi guys. i really don’t feel good.

i started the day off great. i got dressed and took the dogs out for a walk- mom and my brother had said that eve won’t go for walks any more but i couldn’t get her to take the short route. she wanted to go all the way around the block. she was exhausted the rest of the day but it was good to see her wagging her tail and sniffing stuff.

i scanned in all the sketchbook pages and made myself some leftovers for lunch. i was getting the sketchbook pages uploaded when i noticed i had an email from the graduate coordinator. he wanted me to come to his office that afternoon- BUT HE HAD SENT THE EMAIL AT 3:30 PM!

i replied right away anyway and then he called me and told me all that stuff. i panicked for a long time. i still want to die... been thinking about it a lot... i sent an email to my group therapist since she’s already somewhat in on the situation, i wanted to know who i should contact and what kind of paperwork i need to keep my funding and maybe get my grade in stat mech raised. i can’t know that until wednesday though. i don’t know what everyone else got. i’m so terrified that everyone else got a b+ too in a fit of the professor’s “i don’t care any more” attitude since he’s retiring. if that’s the grade he gave everyone else too, then i have no case.

but... i haven’t even taken as many courses as everyone else. my grade average is built off 2 fewer classes than everyone else. they can’t... they can’t. they can’t do this. they can’t kick me out for having a disability.

i know i’m really bad at taking tests. i’m not delusional. but my grades improved! i was doing better! i don’t know what happened in stat mech! i even told the coordinator that i was NOT expecting that grade in the class. but he said it didn’t even matter, he wouldn’t restore my funding even if i did get back over the minimum.

i think that’s illegal...

i couldn’t find any information that backed up what he told me on the university’s web site. 

i tried to draw but i wasn’t really feeling it... eventually i went to dinner with mom to see taylor and her mom. i forgot how much i kinda lowkey hate taylor’s mom. she and my mother were both calling mom’s coworkers “skanky” and then argued with me when i said “that’s an interesting word to use.” 

i wasn’t very engaged with taylor... she offered to hang out with me tomorrow and i said no. then on the way home i asked if she wanted to get brunch. i don’t know if i’ll regret that or not. made the plans and found a restaurant and stuff already. 

i thought about it a lot and i decided i should probably tell mom what’s happening. she might know better who to call about this, and she’s a lot more aggressive than i am. i decided not to tell her tonight because there’s nothing either of us can do right now. i’ll tell her in the morning, i guess. i still haven’t figured out how much of my situation i want to share. she doesn’t know i’m registered with the drc and only taking two courses at a time. she doesn’t know about my, like, crippling test anxiety i guess. i guess it’s that severe. it shot my em grade in the gut and my gpa bled out like it was some kind of action movie. 

my wit isn’t exactly razor sharp today. sorry.

2.99. oh my god. why didn’t they round it up. it’s because i had a .66 in one of my grades there instead of a 2/3. i bet that’s it. should have been a round 3.

i’m retaking classical. they can’t DO this.

when i got home at 8 i started drawing and didn’t stop until 11:30. since my hands get so sweaty and smudge the page i had to work really fast. i finished about an entire page in 3 and a half hours. i REALLY didn’t want to do anything else at all. and i knew i couldn’t sit and think or else i was gonna get too upset to keep a straight face. so i drew a lot.

i’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow, i guess. i hope my group therapist gets back to me soon... i’d prefer to have her feedback and, like, any idea what to do before i tell mom anything. i can’t just verbally flail at her. i did that when i called the drc. i couldn’t even put a sentence together.

i promised harrison i wouldn’t, but i was seriously considering cleaning up my story notes to put in the comic’s queue... just in case i wasn’t around to tell the story any more, i mean... that way people would at least know what happens next and where the story was going.

isn’t it strange. people live their whole lives, doing stuff, all that time is so full, and then one day it all just... stops. sometimes randomly, for stupid reasons, like a car crash. all that work and time and thought leading up to an abrupt nonsense ending. i made it through everything so far, but... it doesn’t feel like i should have, if this is what was waiting on the other side. i know if my depression stays this bad, i’ll never be able to hold down a full time job... i’ll never be able to support myself... i don’t have any chances left. i don’t understand.

i know in my heart that this is unfair to me. i know that there’s reasons they made this decision, but i also still know that it couldn’t have been a legal decision. the coordinator talked about investments and returns. he told me i wasn’t likely to ever return the amount of investment the school had put in me. he told me i just don’t produce as much as my classmates and so they were cutting me off. 

i don’t think those were the exact words. i was freaking out. i don’t remember exactly what he said. he did use the words “investment” and “returns.” like i’m some kind of money machine. i have depression! when was i EVER going to “produce” as much output as everyone else? i thought that wasn’t the point of school. it’s not supposed to be about... profit margins. it’s supposed to be about physics. i don’t understand.

i’m so... sad and angry. i’m angry at myself. i’m angry with the professor. i’m angry at everyone who ever told me not to worry, i’m angry at the second years who did worse than me grade wise (FAILED classes) and are still there with full support. i’m angry at everyone who told me that there’s no way i could get a b+ on the stat mech test. 

i’m angry at everyone who told me they gave up and then got passing grades better than mine anyway. i’m angry that my classmates didn’t study and i studied for hours for a week straight and got worse grades than them. we were all depressed and burnt out. i’m not angry AT them. i’m really frustrated and i want to blame the administration but i know that i’m going to have to defend myself if i want to make a case for this, and i know that i can’t defend myself because i don’t think i deserve it. and it’ll be REALLY EASY for them to convince me that i’m not worth it. i’m weak... why is this happening to me?