#I do not remember these things for ANY show. at all. I don't have the memory for it

[ill0usainte]

Mark your territory.

pairings: colonel!caleb x wife!reader

cw: unprotected sex, office sex, marking, biting, possessive!Caleb (I mean it's Caleb we're talking about), mentions of babies, impregnation kink, breeding kink, baby fever, knocking out, mentions of killing, thoughts of the reader being pregnant.

Remember Caleb's hand that you gave a permanent bite mark when you were kids? Because he's always worried when you're sick, you'd always bite your tongue-- so he lets you bite his hand instead.

Caleb doesn't care if it hurts-- as long as you don't hurt yourself. He's okay with it.

Well, it's the same hand that you still bite 'till this day to muffle your moans while he's pounding deep inside of you, in his office-- well actually in any places you both fuck at.

And to be honest, the colonel doesn't really care if your moans and whimpers gets loud to the point that others can hear it, so that they're aware that he's the one fucking you dumb.

However, as possessive as he is, he never wants others to hear those sweet moans from you. He's the only one who should hear it-- he'd rather kill those who can even get a little glimpse of hearing those adoring sounds-- that's exclusively just for him.

Because, he's the one fucking you balls deep-- not them, while you moan and whimper in return.

He considers your visible bite on his hand-- a mark, a permanent one. When someone asks him where he got that-- he'll be proud to say that his lovely wife gave it to him.

While on the other hand, he wants to give you a permanent mark too-- a baby:(

This man will do anything just to knock you out for good and have your stomach swollen with his baby.

The thought of it turns him on all the time.

Always wanting to cum inside of your warm pussy, and fuck all of it inside of your womb. He always makes sure you take it all-- not a single drop wasted.

"Even if it doesn't take, I will knock you out over and over again until you're carrying my baby."

This man doesn't show any shame in saying these things to you.

He's just marking what's his-- marking his territory.

Fics of Caleb:

(Wo)men in uniform.

Lasting Mark.

Play your gun right!

[strwberri-milk]

heyyy, could i request lads men forgetting readers birthday or anniversary? hurt comfort pls 🥹

You understand that Zayne's job is incredibly important and you would never hold it against him for forgetting these dates but you also know that you're still going to feel hurt no matter how much you rationalise it. You woke up that morning, knowing that today should have been a special day, that he remembered to book it off months in advance and the two of you would be together.

When you see him getting ready for work you feel your heart drop, watching silently as he puts together his lunch and grabs his things. He doesn't notice you're up, thinking that you're still asleep and you take that opportunity to run back into bed and feign sleep again. You'd feel awful if you let Zayne go to work worrying about missing something this important so you decide it'd be kinder to just let him go to work in peace.

It's not until he looks at his schedule after a complicated surgery right from the moment he got into work that he realises what day it is today. He feels awful about it, immediately trying to figure out what surgeries he could offload onto the others so he can try and get home to you as soon as possible. Thankfully, all the other staff are emphatic about his situation, assisting him in getting home as soon as he can.

Thankfully, he's usually prepared in advance when it comes to gifts so he doesn't have to buy you anything last minute. He does make it a point to go and grab you a bouquet as well as some little treats/snacks of all your favourite things. When he comes home he finds you curled up in bed, trying to cheer yourself up. He hates how he made you feel and silently slides in behind you, holding you tightly as he whispers that he's sorry for forgetting about you. He promises that he'll make it up to you another night when the two of you are free, promising an evening at a restaurant you love while he currently placates you with the food and flowers he brought.

Xavier was so exhausted that he accidentally slept through the plans that the two of you made. You didn't even know it happened until you reappeared from the bedroom, watching him sleep peacefully on the bed. You can't bring yourself to wake him, sighing as you move to tuck him in.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, sitting up with a jolt as he realises that he missed your date. He rushes to bed only to find you dead asleep, dried tear tracks on your face. The sight breaks his heart, and he immediately starts making plans to try and fix his mistake.

When you come home one evening you're a little panicked because you can't see anything. You reach around blindly, trying to find a light switch to turn on some light in the pitch black darkness. confused when you realise you can't move the switch. You're about to call for Xavier when he makes his presence known beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder and guiding you to the living room. You're expecting to run into your coffee table but you're confused when you don't, kneeling on the ground as he counts down after covering your eyes.

You hear the click of a button and he uncovers your eyes, showing you the room illuminated by seemingly hundreds of little stars. You look around in surprise by the assortment of fairy lights and stars, a little surprised as you realise you're also sat in front of a meal comprised of your favourite takeout.

He gives you a heartfelt apology, promising that he didn't do it on purpose and he's felt awful about it the entire time. He promises that he'll clean all of this up after the two of you are finished. He doesn't want you to take on any of the stress about this at all, pampering you in extra gifts as an additional apology.

Rafayel is amazing whenever it comes to remembering important dates. His life revolves around you so that's why you find it so odd that the day comes and goes with absolutely no fanfare. It's so out of character that you literally gaslight yourself into thinking that you had the dates mixed up, mentioning it to him offhandedly how it's so weird that you thought yesterday was your anniversary but maybe it actually wasn't. Your birthday is an entirely different scenario though - you just tell him that it's okay if he's too busy to do anything and hopefully you can do something next year.

Rafayel is devastated, internally falling to his knees and sobbing while externally all you see is him humming thoughtfully. Internally he's trying to figure out what the hell happened for him to have dropped the ball. He's so panicking, pulling out his phone to book reservations at the fanciest restaurant he can think of and paying an exorbitant amount of money to do so. He also has so many gifts for you that at this point, he could just pull from a pile he has hidden in his home, telling you that you can have this for now because the main event is coming at your dinner reservation.

It doesn't take you long for you to realise that he actually kinda did fuck up and totally forgot about it when you hear him talking to Thomas about how he can't take on any projects at all because he's busy trying to make sure you don't hate him for forgetting a major event. You end up asking him about it right then and there, basically confronting him about why he forgot. He promises you it wasn't intentional and that he just had so much fun preparing for the even that he fully forgot to actually carry through with his plans.

He ends up making it up to you in bed. You mope and pout and bury yourself underneath the luxurious sheets and refuses to let him in. He basically just lays on top of you, burying his face into your neck and begging for forgiveness. You refuse to give it to him that easily, deciding to make him mope and pout more. He holds you tightly, continuing to whisper sweet nothings as he tells you he'll make it up to you by giving you his credit card. You jokingly tell him that's more than enough before getting serious and telling him how upset you are. He swears it won't happen again and to his credit, it never does.

Sylus couldn't get out of a previous commitment, mentally noting that it was a special day and aiming to follow through with absolutely no problem. Unfortunately, his meeting dragged and by the time it finished he had even more things to do which left you standing in his bedroom, dressed extravagantly for a missed reservation.

You cry to yourself quietly in the room as you get yourself undressed for the evening. It doesn't really hit you until you're laying in bed in your pajamas, staring up at the ceiling as you tell yourself that he didn't mean to do it on purpose.

He comes in as you're crying, listening to your soft sniffles. When you go quiet in hopes of attempting to convince him you weren't just sobbing your eyes out he feels even worse, quickly putting two and two together. He realises what he just missed, looking back at his phone and seeing the reservation cancellation.

He immediately scoops you up in his arms. You try to resist him at first but falter when your body settles into his familiar warmth. He coos at you, whispering apologies into your ear. You want to tell him too little too late but you also know that he never would want to see you crying like this, especially not because of him.

He holds you all night, telling you that you can ask him for anything and he'll make it happen for you. He already does but the guilt of this weighs on him so heavily that he knows that no matter what stands in his way, he won't let it stop him from giving you everything that you want. He also makes sure that it doesn't happen again, wanting you to feel like you could always trust him. If he lost your trust on top of that he'd never forgive himself, telling you that you're everything to him.

[holdmytesseract]

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

[jinwoosbabyboo]

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎 🍎

My personal headcanons for Boyfriend!Caleb after what I've seen and read about his character so far. A/N: All my ride or die Caleb girlies if you disagree with anything on this list im not going to argue with you please don't take my word as law. I love y'all dont fight me 💋 feel free to add more in the replies ‼️MDNI‼️ + cw: quick mention of cnc & primal play

[SFW]

wants to be in your skin wrapped around your nervous system and nestled in the wrinkles of your brain ; if this man could glue you to him he would

remembers everything that happened to him and mc when they were lab rats as kids which is probably where his mental health started rapidly declining

Cuddles ! ; he’ll also cuddle you while youre asleep constantly ; doesn’t matter if you’re in his bed, the guest bed or your bed he’ll climb right in and snuggle up

leaves you bowls/plates of fresh fruit and a glass of water on your nightstand

doing backflips if you tell him he can wash your hair for you ; the longer it takes the better

monitors your social media and online presence “You shouldn't post that no one needs to see you naked” “Im wearing a bikini Caleb” “Basically naked”

big on taking photos he wants as many photos together as possible

movie nights and date nights are his shit he’ll alway be down for that ; if you two have a show you watch together he is genuinely hurt if you watch an episode without him

holds your hand even when you don’t want him to ; would quite literally use his evol to hold your hand in place

if you’re sick he's at your bedside 24/7 with medication and home cooked remedies ; will spoon feed you if you let him

uses his body as a wall in large crowds to keep people from bumping into you

will beat the brakes off of anyone who dares to even look at you sideways and when you ask him what he did he’ll lie and smile in your face

PINKY PROMISES ARE LAW

will take you everywhere with him and will also follow you anywhere ; he’d stand guard outside of the bathroom stall if he could

although he does have some bolts rattling around (because they’re not loose they’re fully free) he will pamper the hell out of you ; he’s running you a bath, rubbing your feet and cooking dinner so you have a relaxed night and warm meal

when you do help him cook he’ll stand behind you and cover your hand with his while he guides your hand with the knife

will hold anything you hand him while he’s on the phone

has an entire closet of all the gifts you’ve ever given him

the type to close the door and immediately lock it if you’re in a room alone with him

hates to argue with you ; he’ll do it, but he regrets it afterwards apologizes profusely later with your favorites foods, sweets, treats and things

has to get a kiss before he leaves ; he’s not leaving without it

the type to wrap your arms around his neck when he goes in for a kiss

loves caging you between his arms and his body at any given chance

has to be touching you in some kind of way

the type to tuck you in every night

loves to give you massages because he loves touching you

[NSFW]

needs you to use your words “tell me how you want it” “don’t cover your mouth” “tell me you missed me” “how much?” “right there or right here? Tell me” “open your mouth” “how much do you love me?” “are you all mine? say it”

records your moans so he can listen to them later

pretty panty lover ; buys you lots of them ; loves to have you model them and you’re getting dicked down if you’re walking around the house in them

takes you anyway he can ; favorite position? ALL OF EM mans brain turns to mush just having his hand on you ; a dom that will punish you, but gives stellar aftercare

loves to tease you by getting you wet and just rubbing his tip over the fabric ; slides the panties to the side instead of taking them off because he loves to see them on you

a vocal moaner and a yapper when he nuts ; nuts inside every time makes him feel like he’s claiming you

Intentionally fails no nut November and says “we’ll try again tomorrow” turns you every way but loose for the entire month

massages your thighs and coochie so he can watch his cum drip out of you

a slurper and moaner when he eats it ; eats the pussy and the ass

puts the colonel hat on you

100% into cnc & somnophilia I will not argue with anyone about this ; not a fan of dacryphilia he hates to see you cry

you have to have a safe word because he gets pussydrunk extremely easily

panty stealer ; keeps a pair in his pocket when he goes to work ; clean or dirty doesn’t matter to him

into primal play would chase you through the woods in the Rina Kent - God of War mask and rearrange your guts right there with pleasure

would get jealous of your vibrator/dildo

[sirfrogsworth]

So, I did know the basic psychology of this. Or I have a good guess at least. But I was too tired and just needed a way to end the post quickly. I am running on fumes nearly all the time and sometimes I just do whatever I need so I can publish something and feel like I accomplished a goal.

But a few people are having issues with what I said.

They mentioned that autistic folks find comfort in repetition and feel like I am calling that sad. I definitely see that as a possible interpretation and I appreciate them mentioning feeling that way.

But I just wanted to use a little bit of energy to address why I don't think I was referring to these normal, healthy coping mechanisms. I mentioned in a reply that my father actually needed to watch the same show over and over because he was too sick to concentrate on something unfamiliar. I get why it can be helpful.

Firstly, I don't know many autistic people who trap everyone they know at a party and play the same 12 songs over and over.

By and large, that aspect was what I found most sad.

But aside from that, I see this repetitive behavior as a very different thing.

In fact, I would say it isn't the behavior itself... it is the *reason* for the behavior.

I see Trump's repetitive behavior more as living in the past, stuck in his ways, being stubborn, and unwilling to try new things. Something I see a lot with elderly conservative folks. They yearn for a better time in the past when they forgot all of the shitty things and only remember happy times. They say music was better in the good old days and refuse to consider any good music could be created outside of that golden age.

Trump is stuck in the 80s and 90s. He was young and healthy and grabbing pussy and fucking models (with and without consent) and going to parties of important people. He was invited to celebrity weddings and was literally Regis Philbin's best friend. Society generally liked him. He was just the goofy rich guy with the hair and many of us thought he was really good at business. Something enhanced by The Apprentice which was heavily edited to make him seem like a business genius. He likes people thinking he is good at business more than he likes being president.

I actually think he hates being president and only ran this time to stay out of jail.

Trump is not well liked as he used to be. No matter how many cult members love and praise him, he remains deeply unhappy. His wife refuses to touch or even kiss him in public. She does this little hand escape thing every time he tries to hold her hand. And when he tries to kiss her she makes him do that French thing where he has to kiss the air near her head.

Every one of his current "friends" is just playing the game. They are hoping their fealty will help them climb the ladder. I doubt he has a single genuine friend left. Except maybe Rudy Guiliani, who turned into a fucking nutball.

He was traumatized from being inches away from death and I think that was the real reason he moved his inauguration inside. A life long New Yorker is pretty well adapted to the cold.

He probably has erectile dysfunction. He is said to need a diaper. People say he smells really bad. Getting old sucks for everyone, but it is devastating to a narcissist of Trump's caliber.

Trump is in a psychological prison of unhappiness and all he has left is his rallies and his parties where he tries to trigger memories of better times. He has the world's thickest nostalgia glasses.

Why do you think he says "Make America Great AGAIN"?

He says he is going to restore the US to its "former glory."

Almost every personal and political goal of his is based on restoring how things used to be. Which is why he so easily fit into the regressive Republican party despite being a New York Democrat for most of his life.

Trump has elderly nostalgia brain and he is stuck in a loop. He is desperately trying to recreate his glory days.

I get why people had an issue with the caption. And I should have waited until I had more energy to clarify.

In the end, this man is stuck in his ways and stupendously uncurious of new things.

And those are terrible traits for a president.

[mysterylilycheeta]

ONYX STORM REVIEW:

After 2 days of catching up on all the work I had postponed for the sake of reading OS, and organising my thoughts, I'm here with my spoiler free review of Onyx Storm. Please remember that these are my personal thoughts and opinions and you're free to agree or disagree based on your views

Rating: 3.25 stars

The Good:

The absolute lack of miscommunication between Xaden and Violet: This book is a gift for all those people who were annoyed to their wit's end by the repetitive stupid fights between Xaden and Violet in Iron Flame. They trust each other, communicate with each other and don't get mad about secrets. I was so pleasantly surprised

Ridoc: Ridoc went through such amazing character development, he easily became one of my favourite characters in the story. We saw him as only the comic relief friend till now but man, he shows such badassery in this book while still being his clown self. And, let's not forget his favourite dick jokes!

The Dragons: Anyone who knows me knows my favourite part about the series is Tairn and the other dragons. Love seeing my grumpy dad dragon, he's such a mood. We also have our sassy teenager Andarna to give him grief. I love all the moments Tairn started boasting about his lineage and his feat: he's such a dork!

Dain and Cat: I never truly hated Dain because I knew from Fourth Wing itself he never intentionally wanted to harm Violet. My only gripe with him was about breaking her trust and looking through her memories without her consent. But man, does he redeem himself. Needless to say, Dain is on my "need to protect" list. I really hated Cat in Iron Flame because she was such a stereotypical cringey evil ex and the way she attacked Violet was so crass and below the belt. She still has some shitty moments in the beginning of the book but she gets a lot better so much so that I want good things to happen to her in the next books. RY did a great job writing these two

Jealous Xaden: My o my was it a treat to see Xaden so jealous. RY fed us with those entertaining af moments. Read the book and you'll find out what I mean

Aaric: I was intrigued by Aaric in book 2 but he stepped up the game so much in this book. He is an amazing character and I'll throw hands if RY even tries to harm him in any way, istg.

The Bad:

Very mediocre worldbuilding: This might be just a timing issue, but the last fantasy book I read was the Mistborn series by Brandon Sanderson, and every fantasy fan knows the kind of world-building Sanderson does. Onyx Storm tries to introduce us to new places beside the continent, but it is not well done. We spend half the book in the Isle Kingdoms, yet they're not even mentioned on the map. They talk about routes to get to the kingdoms, but how am I supposed to follow them if you won't even mention them on the maps? Every Island has a god it worships and things go according to that but I think we could've had a little more information about them beforehand instead of being presented basic info right before we arrive at the next island. "We're going to said island, this is the god they believe in, here's a five point bullet lost of their customs"- NO, THAT'S NOT HOW YOU DO IT! Like I said, it might be because my last book was by Sanderson so my expectations were higher but the world felt so lacking.

Lack of Glossary: A glossary should be a must in every fantasy book, especially if you're branching out and diving deeper into worldbuilding. We are introduced to gods, islands, uprisings and groups of people we haven't even heard of before and we get hardly one or two lines about them in a chapter and then they are mentioned again 2 chapters later and we're supposed to follow. There were so many new names in OS, it was difficult to keep track of them after a while. I still don't completely understand who the Krovlan people were and what was their deal.

Lack of Basgiath: My favourite book in the series till now has been Fourth Wing and one of the biggest reasons for that was Basgiath. I loved that place and the way it felt an actual character in the story. That Basgiath charm is missing in this book. Basgiath is the biggest strength of this series, it's the reason why FW was so successful, the war college and it's deadly atmosphere, the challenges, the interpersonal relations, it was entertaining af. However as the series is progressing, it's turning into another typical romantasy involving young adults leading revolutions, making alliances, fighting wars etc. I started reading Fourth Wing because of it's setting and yet with each new book, we spend less and less time in Basgiath and it's just dampening my mood.

No real surprises: Let me be brutally honest- this book felt like a filler. Of course there are a few shocking moments with new information but it hardly hit the mark like the previous two books. There were no moments that essentially packed a punch. It's just a bunch of random sidequests to gain alliances which didn't up feeling all that meaningful because of worldbuilding problems. It also seemed like fanservice because of a lot of reasons but I won't mention them as they can be accounted as minor spoilers. Some characters died but it didn't feel impactful at all. It seemed more like Ry was just filling up the death quota because we can't have a book where no one dies

Violet and Xaden: Okay so here's the thing, I like both of them as characters and I think they make a good pair. However, I didn't ever truly feel the romance and this has been a problem since Fourth Wing. They have a shit ton of lusty moments but hardly any soft romantic domestic moments that make the relationship feel organic. I have always been disappointed by the lack of proper romantic development between these two. The problem in this book however is the dialogue- they felt so cheesy and downright cringe at times. Maybe show more and say less?? The way they keep saying nothing else matters as much and I know people are feral for how Xaden and Violet are ready to throw off the entire rebellion for each other but it irks me so much. Xaden, you are leading these people and you have accepted that responsibility. Stop endangering the lives of people you swore to protect because Violet might be in danger. She has other people to support her. Violet, don't get mad when people tell you your needs and wants will come second to Xaden's duty towards the people. He is their leader, he has to make those sacrifices, If you think that's unfair then find someone else to fill his position. You can't have the leadership position yet be each other's top priority. It might seem unfair but that is the right thing to do. I really don't feel like the two of them are fit to lead people. Agree with @thequietesthing's review about Violet's god level power feeling over dramatic and out of character at times.

The Ending: If any of you have talked to me about the book in the last few days, you'll know I'm frustrated af with the ending. It doesn't exactly feel like a well done cliffhanger, it's just plain messy. A bunch of unanswered questions to keep the reader confused and hooked for the next book but it just ruined the whole book for me. I have no issues with cliffhangers but the book should feel complete. The way Onyx Storm ended, it feels there were at least two more chapters that got deleted. It's just all over the place.

That was the review guys. I'll still wait for the next book to get published but my excitement has gone down quite a lot. I was expecting more of a Harry Potter style story where the main still occurs in the school/college itself but it seems like that isn't gonna be the case. I honestly believe this series should've been just 3 books instead of 5 but oh well, what can we say. Really agree with @justallihere and @justascrollingghost. We have almost the same complaints with the books lol P.S: The best surprise in this book: Broccoli, the kitten

[ladies-of-fortune]

No, you don't look put together just because you got a manicure

I’m sorry, but it’s true. Getting a manicure is just a small detail that adds to the overall picture of your appearance. If you haven’t showered in days or are dressed in frumpy clothes, no set of nails in the world is going to save you.

So, what do people actually notice?

Your teeth – Are they clean, healthy, and in alignment?

Your clothes – Are they ironed, clean, and well-fitted?

Your hair – Is it brushed, clean, and styled?

Your posture – Do you stand up straight, or do you shrink like you’re trying to disappear?

Your scent – People might not notice your perfume, but they’ll definitely notice if you haven’t showered. Trust me, you don’t want that.

Your hands – Are they moisturized?

Your nails – If you’re not wearing polish, are they clean and tidy? If you are, is it chipped or growing out?

Your face – The condition of your skin and how your makeup (if any) sits on it.

These basic hygiene habits do more than just make you look presentable—they make you feel good about how you care for yourself and how you show up in the world.

Pick Your Battles Wisely

What I said earlier doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get your nails done—far from it! If it makes you happy and helps you feel put together, go for it. But if you’re aiming to project a polished image, you need to consider the maintenance certain stylistic choices demand.

Here are a few examples of high-maintenance choices:

Nails – Getting them done costs money, and regular upkeep is a must if you don’t want chips or breaks to ruin the look.

Hair dye – From covering roots to deep-conditioning, dye jobs require constant attention (and budgeting).

Lash treatments – Extensions look amazing, but they shed over time, requiring regular refills.

Perms – The maintenance depends on how different your natural hair is from the perm. For instance, straight perms on curly hair need way more upkeep.

Fake tanning – Whether you DIY or hit the salon, tans fade, streak, or patch, so maintenance is unavoidable.

All of these treatments have one thing in common: they demand time, money, or both. And if you cut corners, it often backfires, costing you more in the long run. This isn’t to discourage you—it’s to keep you aware of what you’re committing to if you want these to be part of your signature look.

Be High Maintenance to Be Low Maintenance

If you’re aiming for a polished, effortless appearance, the key is to reduce the effort you spend on one thing so you can redirect it elsewhere—like your nails!

Here’s what that looks like:

Laser hair removal – Yes, it’s a time and money investment up front, but it saves you from shaving or waxing constantly. In the long run, you get to throw on any outfit without worrying about hair.

Fitness – Regular workouts take effort, but staying in shape means fewer wardrobe changes due to fluctuating sizes and increased energy to live your life.

Healthy eating – It takes time and effort to plan meals and eat well, but nourishing your body gives you better skin, more energy, and improved focus to crush your goals.

Investing – You may sacrifice short-term spending for long-term growth, but watching your money compound over time is worth it.

Career grinding – The hustle now pays off later, giving you the freedom to enjoy life on your terms.

It’s About More Than Looks

At the end of the day, "looking put together" is about more than the surface-level details—it’s about the foundation you build through self-care, intentional choices, and consistency. When you take care of the basics, the extras (like a nice manicure) become the cherry on top, rather than a band-aid to cover bigger gaps. So, next time you’re striving for that polished look, remember: true glow-ups start from within, not just at the nail salon.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

i'll be honest i haven't done as much Illario Pondering up to this point as some others. but i am Rotating Him now so gonna do my thinking out loud on my already too long post just because...

obviously Illario and Lucanis responded to their childhoods in very different ways/grew up into very different people but i think if you want to trace Illario's Issues back down to this level you can see how that would turn him into who we see in the game/stories too.

while Lucanis ends up as a loner with "no one else" (that he Counts anyway), Illario seems to have way more connections when we meet him as an adult--he flirts with anyone, he's into nightlife, he hooks up with random people at parties, the other Crows will mention him like he's a known presence in their lives--yet none of them know what he's Really up to. So his relationships outside Lucanis & Caterina do seem to exist in plenty, but they also seem to be very shallow. Unless he has some offscreen never mentioned confidant, no one seems to know what he's up to, with either Lucanis's or Caterina's "deaths", or his alliance with the Venatori/Gods. he's kept that part secret while keeping up all these other social connections. in theory maybe he got some of the other off-screen talons on his side who knew the whole story but we don't have any evidence for that either way I think (though I don't remember all the codex details so I could be wrong).

[sidebar: yes, Zara, i know. apparently they were deep enough in whatever they had going on to have love-y pet names but like... clearly not enough that Illario wasn't willing to kill her to cover his own tracks; and personally i have my doubts that the relationship was without any ulterior motives on Zara's part either. even if they did care for each other on some level they were or weren't willing to admit (since that's entirely within our realm of interpretation now) it clearly took lesser priority than their other goals)]

SO. Illario's a conniving man (intentionally!) who isn't sharing everything he knows with his "allies" probably on either side, but at the same time... he is still a very emotional man. i don't think the whole "use people and drop them" thing is his actual desire as much as how he's gotten used to operating in the world. while Lucanis seems to have self-isolated as a way to protect both himself & those around him, I think you can interpret Illario as instead learning that he can achieve the same result by instead having a large amount of very shallow relationships. By spreading around his desire for connection he creates a situation where Caterina can't possibly remove them all from his life, but has the plausible deniability of not being actively close to anyone so he doesn't risk punishment falling on himself either.

and i don't necessarily think his approach was a WORSE one compared to Lucanis', at first. in many ways something's better than nothing and Illario seems to have a better understanding of himself & his emotions (not saying he always does or it's a GOOD understanding, but "better than Lucanis" is not a very high bar), plus way more experience in general at just. social anything. because now that they're adults, ILLARIO is the one who has managed to stand up to Caterina, and change the direction of his own life, even if he did pick the most ruthless path to it. Unlike Lucanis (in The Wigmaker Job & first parts of Veilguard) he DOES show great deal of autonomy, understanding that his tiny family is the thing holding him back from what he really wants. But he also has no one else jumping over to help him, no one left he can manipulate, and so he reaches past the crows to the Venatori/Gods as the next step.

so the true downside to this is in fact based in reputation more than anything else. because he's spent years seemingly playing with the emotions of everyone else while never really giving them a way in, as a coping mechanism... he's already burned those potential bridges in a way Lucanis hasn't. people aren't willing to extend extra graces to him the same way. possibly it even contributed to why Caterina liked him less as a successor, since he was less controllable by her personal rules/whims. i dont really have a thesis statement here like before since i haven't been mulling it over as long but i think it's a fun way to interpret their dynamic.

man... in Veilguard it really is so so clear how much Lucanis yearns for connection, how much he laments having barely anyone who is a tangible long-term presence in his life. Illario and Caterina are IT until he meets Rook, he tells them.

but he grew up in the Dellamorte estate. A huge, huge manor that would not just have servants, but STAFF. payrolls full of people who clean and cook and keep the place running. And we know he had some amount of free reign around the place. He explored in the tunnels and basements and found the secret entrance/exit while playing alone. He learned how to make churros and cook other food from the kitchen staff. Someone taught him to knit. So... where are those people? Where's the kindly cook who became a second mother, or the maids who watched him play? He would know their names and remember them, if they were around long enough. And it's NOT just some rich boy privilege that makes him forget they're there, because we know he sees the working class as people who with real lives. In The Wigmaker Job, he knows elves in the alienage, who think well enough of him to let him use their secret routes around the city. He risks the whole mission and breaks rules to let one single serving maid go--they're not invisible or somehow lesser to him. He was raised as a Crow, he's been trained since he was a boy to be observant--he'd listen for the names and details about the lives of servants who were around him all the time as a child. And he is also kind and gentle, so he would reach back if they offered him any kind of affection

Which means their absence in his life is intentional. Caterina must have had the staff rotated often enough that he couldn't learn who they were, and discouraged anyone from talking to or connecting with the Dellamorte boys--she probably thought she was keeping them safe. Keeping them from having people who might matter and therefore could be used against all of them--not to mention it's way easier to slip a poisoned treat to a trusting child, or convince them to follow you out of the estate to an undisclosed location. Her paranoia after losing all her children and other grandkids warped into isolating the Dellamorte boys utterly from any kind of connection and affection outside of herself, and then she withheld it anyway, because she was afraid of getting hurt again too (<- not an excuse, still abuse). And she is NOT a kind woman, who would look over a transgression--servants disobeying her orders about staying away from her grandsons would mean losing their job at best and probably physical punishment along with it. Or maybe you just never saw that coworker who dared say something kind to a crying child again.

It's so sad. And makes it so much more meaningful that there WERE occasional times he got away with it anyway. I wonder how much those cooks risked when teaching him how a kitchen runs, and to make his favorite dessert. If they had some excuse for it, or were all sent away once Caterina found out. Of course he'd stop trying to make friends with any children of the staff his age, if any time he did, the whole family got moved to work at a summer villa in the country instead. If the people who cleaned his rooms were different every month. He'd notice that anyone who he tried to get close to just ended up out of his life entirely, and so eventually Caterina wouldn't need to keep isolating him intentionally as he grew. Lucanis learned. He started doing it himself.

[idontactuallyremember]

Squid Game- Thanos x Fem!reader

Day 3 on this island and you're withdrawing- bad. Thanos offers to help but only if he & Nam-Gyu get something in return. Only, they start bickering and Thanos decides to show everybody who's in charge.

Pairing: Fem!reader x Thanos

(Nam-Guy slightly involved but him and Thanos don't touch)

CW: mentions of withdrawal symptoms, unprotected sex, a lot of cursing, substance use, Nam-Gyu watches you and Thanos, use of the nickname "daddy"

Authors note: If you are only interested in the spicy parts & not the backstory; it starts at the pink paragraph!! This is longer than I wanted it to be but I love this lil story

NSFW BELOW THE CUT- MINORS DNI

You wake up sweating, even though you feel the cool air on your face. It's only your second (maybe third ?) day locked away with these strangers- strangers that would likely all be dead within a few more days time.

You would care, only if you could get something to take this edge off.

Your bones and joints hurt.

As you shift in a sitting position in your bed- you realize there still aren't any lights on. How much longer you would have to sleep is up in the air, as there is no clock or windows indicating what time it is.

You try to place what time it could be and you guess there's only an hour or two left of darkness.

You would go back to sleep. You would, only, your sheets and pillow are covered in sweat. Your back hurts and your hands are shaking. Your stomach turns over as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. The nausea is starting. Your legs are restless.

Your thoughts are eating away at you. If only you had just one pill, one hit... anything. You're obsessed with how badly you feel, it's all you can think about.

Only then, in the darkness, do you hear soft whispering.

It distracts you from your pain. You decide to eavesdrop.

"No, just one, greedy fuck..." A low voice says.

You close your eyes to focus better.

"I still need enough to last the next few days- Just until we get out of here with our money." The voice carries on, the person he is speaking to stays silent.

You decide to peak over the edge of your bed to see where the voices are coming from.

In the darkness, you can vaguely make out two men sitting on a bottom bunk.

The first one is Thanos. You only remember his name because it's so unusual. As is his appearance. The other man- you have no idea what his name is.

A lot of people tried recruiting you, introducing themselves to you. At first, you didn't mind. But the longer you go without a high, the more belligerent and annoyed you feel yourself becoming.

Although it was obvious, it didn't occur to you what the two boys were doing until you see them place something in their mouth.

Immediately, without thinking, you climb down your bunk and start over to them. You don't even think about what you're going to say- you only know you need to get high. And you'd do whatever you have to if it meant you could just feel a little less weak and nauseous.

They hear you before they see you- Thanos wildly looks around to see where the noise is coming from.

As you approach, you see Thanos scramble to hide what is in his hands.

The only thing your withdrawing brain can think to say is, "Hey..."

You would mentally smack yourself if you weren't so desperate right now.

"Hello, pretty." Thanos says. You see the other man open his mouth to speak but says nothing.

There's a moment of silence.

"I'm Nam-Gyu." The man finally decides to say.

"I'm Y/N." You say, even though you don't like the idea of anyone knowing your real name.

Thanos looks you up and down. He sees you shaking, itching your arms. He sees the pool of sweat around the collar of your shirt.

"You don't feel too good, huh?" He notices.

"No, not really." You say, weakly. You were hoping he offered something to you so you wouldn't have to ask.

"Sit down." He orders.

You do as you're told, even if you don't appreciate the bossy tone.

"You want one of these?" He asks, his hands holding the cross emerging from his hiding place. You didn't like the connotation behind his voice.

"Yes, if you can spare one. I'm withdrawing bad..." You say.

"Aww..." He says and grabs your hand, "you wanna feel better?"

"Yes, I do." Is all you say, his flirtatious tone does nothing but annoy you.

"Just give it to me, dude. Not in the fucking mood." You think to yourself.

"Well..." Thanos looks at Nam-Gyu. You sense they are having a silent conversation with their eyes. A conversation in a language you don't understand.

"I can give you one, if you really need it." He offers.

"Thank you." You say, expecting him to say more.

He pulls out the necklace under his shirt and opens the cross. Sitting there are multiple, colorful, small tablets.

"Here:" Thanos grabs a random one, "Take it."

You open your palm to him, waiting for him to hand it to you.

Only, he doesn't. He pops the pill in his mouth, instead.

"C'mere, fast." He directs. You're unsure of where this is going but, again, do as you're told anyway.

As you scoot closer to him, he grabs your face. In a second, he is kissing you. With his tongue, he passes the small tablet to you in your mouth. He kisses you for a few more moments.

As he pulls away, you chew the already dissolving pill and swallow.

"You'll feel better soon, okay?" He says, as if he didn't just force his tongue in your mouth, "it hits fast."

You don't have much to say. While you're grateful you will feel less sick today- the kiss left you stunned. It was unexpected. And maybe a tiny bit hot.

"Thanks." Is all you say and you get up to return to your bunk.

"No way, senorita, you stay here." Thanos says, grabbing you around the waist. He forces you back sitting in his bed.

Part of you already knows what direction this is heading. Part of you can't care- you're finally going to be high again for the first time in days.

"Show some gratitude, yeah? He just saved you from withdrawals." Nam-Gyu says, the first words he's uttered since introducing himself.

You decide to say nothing in response.

As the minutes go by, you wait for it to kick in. You're praying it does work fast- like Thanos promised.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Thanos asks you.

"I got in a lot of debt from my addictions. Gambling, drugs, drinking.." you say.

"Mmm, not good. You're too pretty to be doing those things." Thanos hums, absentmindedly.

You start to feel a little woozy. You notice your pain is slowly getting better, your mood lifting a little.

Somehow, by your body language, the two boys notice, too.

"You feel better already, see?" Nam-Gyu says. You nod in agreement.

As if waiting for the perfect moment- the moment you started feeling it, Thanos asks: "So what do I get in return for making you feel better?"

You were waiting for this.

"What do you want?" You ask.

You know his answer before he even tells you. The look in his eye, his shit-eating grin. You see what he wants.

"Well, I made you feel good. You're gonna make me feel good, too, right?" Thanos smiles.

You are silent for a minute. If you don't agree, you were scared he would do it anyway. Plus, with the drugs kicking in, you felt much more care-free, maybe even a little horny.

You thought Thanos was attractive but his personality wasn't exactly all he cracked it up to be.

They might be jackasses, but Thanos did at least help you- even if it was truthfully for his own benefit.

"Okay" you agree, "I'll make you feel good."

His smile only widens, "Good girl, I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." He scoots closer to you.

Thanos grabs your face to kiss you, again. You comply; letting him take dominance.

"I knew from the moment I saw you... I was waiting for you to come begging for a high." He whispers, between kisses.

He pauses for a moment to lay you down, your head falls in Nam-Gyu's lap, unexpectedly.

You look up at Nam-Gyu, then back at Thanos.

"He wants to watch us, okay? You can pretend he's not there." Thanos says, running a hand down your face.

You get a little embarrassed at the thought of someone watching you but it sort of turned you on.

You say nothing. You decide ignoring him might be the best course of action, even if it intimidated you.

With Thanos still on top of you, he kisses your face softly. He nibbles your neck and earlobes. Maybe it's the high, but it feels like fucking magic. You put your hands in his hair as he teases you, continuing to kiss you everywhere he can.

He puts his hands under your shirt and gropes at you, rubbing circles around your nipple over the thin fabric of your bra.

In the midst of the moment, you look up at Nam-Gyu, just above you, your head still laying in his lap. He paws at himself through his pants but doesn't say anything. He doesn't touch you.

Thanos sits you up for a moment, taking off your shirt and bra. The cold air makes your nipples hard and Thanos licks his lips before latching himself to one of them, sucking hard and swirling circles with his tongue.

You groan, quietly.

"This is what you've been hiding under these baggy clothes?" He asks, "So fucking sexy..."

You feel Nam-Gyu move nearer towards Thanos' side of the bed, you assume, to see you from his perspective.

Thanos doesn't even give him a glance. He pretends he isn't there at all. His attention is only on you.

He lays you back down, and messes with the waistband of your pants. A shiver runs through you.

Thanos takes off his shirt in one quick motion as he grinds against you- pulling it over his head. It made your knees weak to see him shirtless- his necklace swaying back and forth just above your head. Your eyes are all over him.

"Don't look at me like that, not yet." He warns.

"Like what?" You ask, a cheeky smile peaking through your attempted deadpanned gaze.

"Like you're begging for it..." He kisses your stomach, "be patient..."

Nam-Gyu silently watches, listens to your conversation. He hungrily paws at himself- his hips bucking in anticipation. It makes you wary to say much but as the minutes pass, the relief that you're not withdrawing anymore is overwhelming. You were scared you'd do anything Thanos asks, out of appreciation.

"Get on top of me." He orders.

Before you straddle him, already shirtless, he hums, "Let's take these off, too, okay?"

He gently slides off your pants, but when he sees a pair of cute, lacy panties, he pauses.

"Fuck..." He stares at the intricate, purple lace, "You're a fucking dream to me."

Before you get on top of him as requested, he quickly removes his sweats & boxers, letting you see everything.

Once on top of him, he groans as you rub against him. You lean down to kiss Thanos, your ass in the air.

Nam-Gyu swallows thickly; he has a perfect view of you here. His hands fumble with his waistband as he slowly begins to properly touch himself.

Thanos' hands are all over you. In your hair, scratching your back, gently squeezing your throat, down your hips as you grind against him. You kiss his neck, his chest.

"You wanna ride me, Princess?" He asks.

You nod and he quickly reaches down and slides your panties to the side.

You make quick work of lowering yourself down perfectly, letting only the tip graze against your wetness.

"Do you feel how much I need you?" You ask.

"Fuck... yes... yes, I do." He manages.

Only when you let him enter you completely do you get your first real moan from him.

He groans, loud and then, "C'mere." He grabs your throat, "you're so fucking tight for me... treating me so good.." His hips thrust into you as you ride up and down slowly.

He stops, suddenly, reaching for the cross around his neck. Still inside you, he opens it, places a red pill on his tongue and then says to you, "Open..."

He pops another pill in your mouth. Nam-Gyu's face goes pale.

"Dude, are you fucking serious?" He asks.

"What?" Thanos asks, looking at you slowly ride him, smiling and nodding as you chew and swallow.

"You're gonna give her another one just because she let you fuck? You're so fucking easy, man. You're a fucking pushover. I asked for another one and you said yo-" Nam-Gyu starts but is interrupted.

"I said 'no' because last time I fucking checked these belong to me. I decide who to give them to. How many I give. How many I take. That's up to me. I'm no pushover- you think you deserve more than what you do. That's not my fucking problem, man. I don't have to give you fucking ANY, you realize that? I don't owe you. I protect you in here- YOU owe me. If you sucked my dick maybe I'd give you a few extra, too. Everyone can see who's in charge here. Respect that or go somewhere else..." Thanos says, then- directed to you, "Tell me who's in charge, baby?"

"You're in charge" You say, playing his dumb game.

"Who's the boss, princess? Tell me."

"You are."

"What's my fucking name?" He thrusts inside you, hard, gripping your hair.

"Thanos, fuck!" You moan out in response.

Nam-Gyu sucks his teeth but says nothing more.

"I wanna be on top, now." Thanos says, flipping you over.

Your hair sprawls out around you and Thanos makes a show of taking off your panties now that you're laying down.

A show seemingly for Nam-Gyu. Almost as if to say, "Fuck you, you wish this was you, huh?"

Just as he begins to fuck you again, he turns to Nam-Gyu.

"Move off the bed, you're in the fucking way." Thanos orders.

"Where do you expect me to sit, then?" Nam-Gyu questions, clearly annoyed.

"Sit on the fucking floor for all I care, I don't give a fuck- move."

Nam-Gyu chews his lips, "I don't want to sit on the fucking floor like a dog."

"Don't act like one, then! Your options are you sit on the floor or you go sit in your fucking bed. Either way you have to stop bitching. Decide -fast- and shut the fuck up." Thanos says and a muscle in Nam-Gyu's jaw tightens. They are both irked.

"You think you can just talk to me however the fuck you want?" Nam-Guy says.

"Yeah, I do. And you're not gonna do a fucking thing because I give you drugs and you're a fucking junkie." Thanos laughs.

He continues to fuck you, slowly at first but speeds up as he hears your feedback.

Nam-Gyu is silent but the energy is different.

"You're a junkie, too. You chose drugs over your fucking career, man. Don't act better than me." He finally says.

Thanos snaps, "Did I not tell you to sit on the fucking floor, bitch? Did I not fucking tell you that?"

"What makes you think I have to do what you say?" Nam-Gyu starts, "I'm over it. You think you're God's fucking gift to this earth when in reality you are a freak."

Thanos shoulders him off the bed and to the ground, "The shoes I came in here with cost more than your fucking rent, don't talk to me like that again."

Nam-Gyu stays on the ground but sits up. He rubs his shoulder, where he hit the ground.

"Should we show him how much of a freak I am, baby?" He asks, smugly, back to hovering over you in an instant.

He enters you, again. This time: no distractions.

He fucks you hard and deep; he's using you like a toy. His colorful nails dig deep into your hips, directing your every move.

"Fuck, Thanos..." You say and he digs his fingers into your soft skin harder.

"I love when you say my name." He groans.

You turn your head, Nam-Gyu sits on the floor, pathetically grabbing at himself.

Thanos grabs your head, harshly, and faces it back to him so you are locking eyes,

"Are you fucking him?" He asks, harshly.

"What... No..." You say.

"Then don't fucking look at him." He says, then lowering and whispering in your ear, "Don't pay him no mind, baby. Think about how good my cock feels, okay? Be a good girl now..."

"Yes, Daddy" you say, accidentally. Thanos grips the sheets in reaction.

"Fuck! Call me that again. Who am I?"

"Daddy... please..." You moan.

"Please what, baby?" He purrs

"I'm close..."

His pace quickens at your soft pleading as he hits the same spot over and over. Your legs are shaking soon, your knuckles white- gripping his hair.

You hear Nam-Gyu making soft noises beside you, straining his head to get the best view.

"Show me how good it feels, Princess." He says, he's fucking you so hard a bead of sweat drips off his jaw, splattering on your cheek.

Uncontrollably, it comes to you. You cry out, loud. This does nothing to slow him down.

"Yeah, baby? It feels that good?" He smirks.

When you finish, he doesn't stop, he continues, ruthlessly.

He only slows to lift up your legs so they're resting on his shoulders.

Nam-Gyu's pumping gets more reckless, he sits on his knees and moans softly after you finish.

You ride out your orgasm as Thanos grows closer. Your moans are meaningless streams of words now.

"Fuck... c'mon, baby... I'm so close." His eyes roll back.

"Please, cum inside me, Daddy" You beg.

With that, he's finally tipping over the edge, his thrusts getting sloppier as he fills you up.

"Yes, Princess, fuck... You're perfect..." He says, finally slowing down. He remains inside you only long enough to lean down and give you a quick kiss.

"That was fucking... amazing..." he says, out of breath. You both fall asleep right there, neither worried about Nam-Gyu.

[mrs-monaghan]

Hey Shaz, how are you. I have been sad lately, and I was hoping you could cheer me up. Would it be too much to ask you to do a post on Hobi accidentally putting our favorite couple out there?

Listen. Not alot of people would put this moment on the list but its on the list for me. But mostly because this happens to me all the time! See anon, I am a laugher. I laugh ALOT, much like Jhope.

Not too long ago my sister and her hubby were going at it over something and I was in the back seat just laughing my head off. Then day before yesterday a close friend of mine and her hubby had a silly back and forth and I was there having the time of my life. So when I saw this tweet by Busan baes just now I couldn't help but add it to the list because Jhope here 👆🏾 is me when a couple bickers near me. And I bet I'm not the only one who's experienced this. So yeah, to me Jhope's reaction to Jikook here goes on the list 1300%

But moving on, anon. Exhibit B

A popular moment we all know and love ☺

I go more in depth about it here. The fact that Jhope didn't even notice his slip up thou 🤭🤭

Exhibit C.

Anon idk what in your life is making you sad but I'm hoping this small analysis of Jhope being a snitch, brings a smile to your face 😘 it sure brings a huge grin to mine 😂 its the way Jhope couldn't wait to tell Jimin what he had seen. Poor JK 🤣 Nah, I love that moment sm 🤭🤭

P.S -> that moment answers the age old question on who Jhope would pick if Jikook ever broke up 🤭🤭

Exhibit D

I talk about it here. I remember some ot7s tried debunking this moment by saying that Jhope confuses Jimin and JK's names all the time, so this was just him doing that. While that explanation is valid, it doesn't apply here. When Jhope shouts "JK!" He actually turns around to look at JK. So yeah, he didn't make a mistake this time.

Exhibit E

Speaking of Jhope confusing their names. On this compilation is all members confusing Jikook with eo.

Ends at 3:50. You will notice the culprit is mostly Jhope. This part is my fav 😂😂

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Its hilarious to me but its also really telling, anon. He is one of the reasons we know Jikook spend ALOT of time together.

Exhibit H

This compilation here shows Jhope being the Jikook president he is 😍

Among the things mentioned, is this moment where Jhope shouts "wifey" when JK carries Jimin

Notice how he didn't say it when JK was carrying anyone else ☕

Exhibit I

I actually didn't know about this one, anon. It's new to me 🤭

Its on this analysis here by "breakdown the kookmin" we all know that moment in rom coms where the couple goes to a pottery date and the man sits behind the woman, wraps his hands around hers and they mould the clay together. Now why on earth would Jhope tell JK to do that to Jimin? Eh? And like BTK asks, why can't he just do it himself? 😏😏 oh Hobi 🤭 tell us more, please 😂 tell us everything! ☕

Exhibit J

I don't really need to say much about this one do I?

It's a popular Jhope outing Jikook moment. Basically Jimin was lagging behind and Jhope went to JK specifically -not any other member- to complain about Jimin being slow. You know, like how you can go to a boyfriend about their girl and vice versa?

Tweet with video here

Exhibit K

Is another common moment. We talk about this live a little bit here and talk about Jimin being a big eater here.

Otherwise there is plenty of analyses videos on this live everywhere. e.g this one.

This is considered a Jihope moment but really its a Jikook one. Once you realise JK was in the room, what Jhope was doing to Jimin makes sense. This was a bestfriend teasing their other bestfriend about how they were gonna get some later 🤭🤭 tihihihihi.

LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST (he will continue to slip once they finish serving. Ha haa)

Exhibit L

We talk about this moment here. Like I said, he could have used Jin or Suga as an example, but he used JK 🤷🏾‍♀️

Jikook is real. Have been boyfriends for a long while. So if in doubt, then pay attention to Jhope ��😁 He's the closest to them which means once in a while he will slip up.

Thanks for the ask anon, I enjoyed doing it 😘 Hope you've cheered up and are feeling better 💛💜

[silverhypnos]

Unpopular Spider Opinion

Chrollo and the rest of the Spiders don't actually like the scarlet eyes as a valuable item.

I see so many fanarts of Chrollo admiring the scarlet eyes but I honestly think the canon Chrollo doesn't even like them. It's not just because of the backstory of Sarasa's dismembered body.

There are a lot of hints throughout the manga and anime that actually imply their lack of interest.

Other than nen, usually when it came to things the spiders were interested in were material goods that could be used. Books, Games, food, etc. We never really see them show any interest in objects that are "pretty to look at"

Since most of them are from Meteor City, it's kind of hard to imagine them enjoying the luxury of something that is just aesthetic. I think people imagine Chrollo as different from his friends as someone who could potentially enjoy that kind of luxury, but I also think the main reason why people feel that way is partly due to how other characters describe him. Mainly how Hisoka, a character that was confirmed to be a fickle pathological liar described him. I'm a firm believer that Hisoka was purposely twisting his description of Chrollo to convince Kurapika that teaming up was the only rational solution. We know the "The spider won't stop moving until the head is crushed" is a lie. So why are the fandom so convinced that everything else must be true? Hisoka described Chrollo as someone who admires everything he steals and then gets bored of it and sells it off. Funny, we never get to see him admire any of the merchandise that the Spider's successfully steals. Everyone chooses to celebrate instead and we see him sitting on the boxed merchandise as if it were a stool and drinking beer.

Later when the Spiders finally made the connection that the Chain User was probably a survivor of the Kurta clan. Remember what Chrollo asked?

Chrollo, a man who is constantly depicted as an admirer of the scarlet eyes by the fandom had NO IDEA if the scarlet eyes were even being sold in the first place. "But it could be easy to forget with all that merchandise!!"

Sure, but the scarlet eyes were the LAST ITEM that got sold off. The only person who remembers is Kortopi because he had to use his Nen.

Usually, people will remember the first and last item unless they personally don't give a shit about it. Heck, Pakunoda was ON STAGE, and even she didn't say anything. (Granted Pakunoda does show a reluctance to speak her mind sometimes but still.)

I honestly don't think any of the Spiders, including Chrollo give a shit about the scarlet eyes. Their backstory and their behavior during the YorkShin arc only reinforce that. Is it possible that five years ago, Chrollo might have been interested when they killed the Kurta clan, (assuming the Togashi isn't trying to pull a plot twist on us and reveal a different culprit) Sure, it's possible. But it sounds like it's unlikely he'd be interested in them for that long, why obsess over a pair of eyeballs when there is a good book right over there? Don't get me wrong, I get the artistic appeal, and I assume MOST of the artists are doing it for the artistic appeal rather than if it feels canon based on the source material. But I wanted to share my opinion because I rarely see this kind of take. Usually, people depict Chrollo as being obsessed with Kurapika even though he really isn't. Kurapika is the one who is obsessed with killing the Spiders (For good reasons) but the obsession isn't mutual.

[mylovesstuffs]

Entry #02

24.01.2025 - 02:52

The fact that so many people here feel self-conscious and insecure about their smiles breaks my heart. It’s disheartening, to say the least. I know I’m here trying to comfort you all, but reading your responses makes me feel a little lighter though I know it’s cruel of me to admit. I usually don’t like to be vulnerable, not online and definitely not in public, but for your sake, and because I understand how it feels, I’ll share why I feel that way.

It’s because I’m insecure too.

To the point where COVID was a relief for me because wearing masks in public became normalized. From 2020 to 2025, I’ve been wearing a mask every single day and I'm not exaggerating.

To the point where my friends unmask me once every two months (because I don't unmask every time they want) just so they don’t forget what I look like.

To the point where I only have 12 unmasked photos of myself as a teenager.

To the point where I’ve become known as “the mask girl.”

To the point where people shame me for wearing a mask indoors and outdoors.

To the point where I’m often targeted or pressured by others to unmask myself.

To the point where my juniors have never even seen my face.

But what really hit me is realizing so many of you feel insecure about your smiles. I thought I was alone in this. For me, it’s my smile too. It’s something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. It surprises me because, to me, I’ve never seen a bad smile in my entire life. Not one. Truly. People even make fun of me for finding everyone attractive and beautiful, but I do! Everyone is unique in their own way. I genuinely think everyone is unique and beautiful. What you see in the mirror isn’t what others see. People see you differently than you see yourself, they see beauty where you might not. Yet here I am, telling you this, even though I can’t seem to believe it about myself or apply it in my life. I hate my smile. I hate it to the point that I avoid it entirely. And it hurts even more because my own father has been the one to point it out. My family knows how sensitive I am about it, and they go out of their way to avoid making me feel worse. But my father doesn’t realize this. He’s told me outright several times not to smile or laugh with my teeth showing (as if I could laugh any other way).

It broke me. To know that everyone around me understood that except him. To him, it’s not a big deal. To him, he's oblivious. Though I know he has a bit of a narcissistic personality but it's not that bad. Laughing and smiling are involuntary, natural expressions of joy or amusement—things that happen without much thought. So to tell me not to smile or laugh feels deeply unfair, even cruel, when you think about it. I’ve been made to feel self-conscious about even being happy. But at the same time, I know he isn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. He’s just oblivious to how deeply his words affect me. And that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? People often don’t realize how their comments especially about something as personal as physical appearance can linger. The logical side of me knows he doesn’t mean harm. But the emotional side of me can’t help but feel the weight of those words. It’s a reminder that even the people closest to us, the ones we expect to understand us best, can sometimes miss the mark entirely.

So yeah, I guess that’s why I felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that others feel this way too. It’s not something we can always control, but maybe it’s something we can learn to embrace. And from the bottom of my heart, I know that if SEVENTEEN ever knew about this, they’d be the first to hug us. As their fans, their friends, or someone even closer to them, they’d want us to know how special we are. How beautiful we are. They’d remind us that our smiles—the ones we hate—are the ones that light up their world. Insecurities often feel like a big deal to us, even if others might think they're trivial or wonder why we're bothered by them. But the truth is, insecurities are deeply personal and sensitive, and because of that, we should really be kind and understanding toward one another.

You’re not alone. And you are so, so much more beautiful than you think.

OT13 reacting to their s/o who loves smiles but feels insecure about showing their teeth

Request: Halooo I am the same anon that req wisdom tooth drabble!!! So can I req for svt ot13 s/o that love smile but never showed their teeth cause they're insecure with it?? I do have an open bite and I do be jealous w ppl that can smile with their normal teeth 🥲🥲 Also can I be ur ⭐️ anon??

A/N: This is dedicated to all kinds of smiles—big, small, toothy, closed, crooked, or perfectly aligned. It’s easy to compare ourselves to others, especially when society has such rigid standards for something as personal as a smile. But the truth is, the world isn’t looking for perfect smiles; it’s looking for your smile—the one that lights up the people around you, the one that reflects your joy, and the one that makes you you. Whether you’re someone who shows off their teeth confidently or someone who keeps their smiles shy, you are absolutely radiant just the way you are. I hope this reaction brings you warmth, and maybe even a little courage to embrace your smile, because SEVENTEEN and I think it’s the best one there is. Thank you for reading, and remember: your smile is a gift, not just to you but to everyone lucky enough to see it! 💛

I definitely encourage you to read everyone's part, especially Minghao's.

Seungcheol: Cheol would notice right away how you always smile with your lips closed. He’d encourage you without pushing too hard, so you’d catch him saying things like, “I love it when you smile—it’s my favorite thing about you.” And when you explain why you’re self-conscious, his protective mode kicks in. In his mind, you’re perfect exactly as you are. He’d make a habit of kissing your forehead after every smile, as if to say, Thank you for sharing this with me. Warm, comforting, and always your biggest cheerleader.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan is a tease—but in the sweetest way possible. He’d catch you hiding your teeth and tease you playfully about how even your shy smile could start a fan club. But deep down, he’d be the FIRST to remind you that nobody’s smile is ‘wrong’. He’d even come up with ridiculous scenarios like, “If anyone says anything about your teeth, I’ll report them to Smile Security.” Sure, it’s dramatic, but somehow it’s comforting. With him, you’d slowly start to see your smile through his eyes: bright, genuine, and absolutely worth showing off.

Joshua: Shua’s the ‘patient and reassuring’ type. He’d never rush you into anything but would always make it known how much he loves your smile—whether or not it shows your teeth. He’d probably sit with you one evening and casually mention how he used to be insecure about something too, just to remind you that everyone has their struggles. The way he’d look at you every time you smiled? Pure love and admiration. Slowly but surely, you’d start feeling like, Maybe my smile isn’t so bad after all.

Jun: Junhui wouldn’t even let you finish explaining your insecurity before he’d start showering you with compliments. He’d be so sweet and genuine about it too, like, “What? But your smile is so pretty! Have you seen yourself?” He’d probably find little ways to make you smile more, through goofy antics or heartfelt gestures. The best part? He’d never let you feel like you had to change—he loves your smile, whether it’s teeth-showing or not. And his genuine enthusiasm? It’s impossible not to feel a little brighter around him.

Hoshi: Hoshi would make it his personal mission to see your biggest, toothiest smile. He’s dramatic like that. He'd do the silliest things to make you laugh, like impersonating the other members or dancing in the weirdest ways (mind you he's performance team leader TT). When you finally let out a full smile, he’d stop mid-act and just stare. “Wow. That’s the one. That’s the smile that could light up a stadium.” And you’d know he’s not exaggerating (even though he’s Hoshi and exaggerates everything). It’s just how he loves—with his whole heart. I'm feeling soft :(

Wonwoo: He’d notice your insecurities but wouldn’t bring them up directly. Instead, would focus on making you comfortable and appreciated. He’d probably start complimenting you in subtle ways, like, “Your smile is really nice,” or “You look happiest when you smile.” Over time, his steady reassurance would make you feel less self-conscious. And when you finally smile without holding back, he’d just give you that soft, proud look, as if to say, See? I knew it was beautiful.

Woozi: Woozi would be a mix of logical and sweet about it. He’d listen to your reasons and then quietly debunk every single one of them, like, “Who said teeth have to be perfect to make a smile beautiful? That’s nonsense.” He’d focus more on how your smile makes him feel—happy, loved, and lucky to know you. And if you ever caught him sneaking a photo of you smiling? Just know it’s because he wants to remember how happy you looked in that moment.

Dokyeom: Oh boy, Seokmin would be all over this. He lives for smiles, especially yours. He’d probably start a whole campaign to make you feel better about it, complete with compliments, funny jokes, and random bursts of Look at that gorgeous smile! energy. You’d have no choice but to smile around him because he’s just that infectious. And when you finally let out a toothy grin, he’d gasp like, “I KNEW IT! YOU HAVE THE BEST SMILE IN THE WORLD!” Dramatic? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Mingyu: Kim Mingyu, the man he is, would be the type to go above and beyond to make you feel good about your smile. He’d start by complimenting you constantly and taking candid photos where you look natural and happy. Then, he’d show them to you like, “Look at this—your smile could cure my bad days.” He’d probably even bring it up to the members like, “Isn’t her smile the best thing ever?” And when you roll your eyes at him, he’d just grin and say, “See? Even your eyeroll smile is perfect.” AHHGHTCGTCGCFFCCT

Minghao: Hao would be supportive and no-nonsense. He’d listen to your insecurities, acknowledge your feelings, and then remind you that nobody’s perfect. “Imperfections make us human,” he’d say, and it would somehow hit deeper than you expected. He’d probably encourage you to focus on how your smile feels rather than how it looks, and over time, his grounded perspective would help you see your smile in a whole new light. With him (with others too), you’d start to appreciate the beauty in being uniquely you.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would be the loudest advocate for your smile. “Are you kidding me!” He’d probably start hyping you up every time you smiled, to the point where it becomes impossible not to feel confident about it. And if anyone dared to say something negative about your teeth? Oh, he’d drag them to filth, no hesitation I'm telling you. With Seungkwan in your corner, you’d never have to doubt your smile again.

Vernon: He would be ridiculously sweet. He’d casually drop comments like, “Your smile’s cool,” and then act like it’s no big deal—when really, he’s melting inside every time he sees it. He’d never pressure you to show your teeth but would secretly be over the moon whenever you did. And the way he’d look at you in those moments? Pure adoration. Honestly, he’d make you feel like the coolest person in the world, open bite or not.

Dino: Chan would be all about boosting your confidence. He’d give you a pep talk about how unique smiles are the best smiles and how yours is his favorite thing about you. He’d hype you up so much that you’d almost feel like a celebrity. And when you finally smiled without holding back, he’d act like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. “That’s it! That’s the smile that could rules my heart!” That’s just how much he cares.

[hopeful-dawn]

I find it very interesting how incredibly sheltered Shadow is in the movie, not just compared to other versions of his character, but also to the other characters in the SCU. He doesn't talk a lot, so it's not overly obvious, but his flashback scenes were riddled with subtext. He's clearly an amnesiac when he first falls to earth, so he has literally no idea about... most things, and the military certainly wouldn't have seen fit to teach him about them.

Given the way they kept him locked up in a fluid-filled tube - despite him being awake, alert, seemingly uninjured, and still in his clothes -, and his own admission that they all seemed scared of him and thought he was dangerous, Shadow doesn't seem to have been treated like an actual person, much less a child. And given his reaction to Maria when she first interacted with him (i.e. confused and suspicious even after she was very playful and friendly towards him), she likely was the first person to show him actual kindness, too.

Which makes sense! In the games he was created for the express purpose of being able to cure Maria. She was there for him and cared for him from the start, and undoubtedly made sure he was being treated at least moderately well. And she would have had the leverage to do so, because they were on a civilian space colony where her grandfather, who loved her dearly, was the one spearheading the project. In the movies however, Shadow was an extremely powerful extraterrestrial of unspecified origin, with an unknown purpose for coming to Earth. During the Cold War. He was not a beloved creation; he was a potential threat who was being experimented on by the military.

There's no way that before Maria he'd have been given lessons in Earth cultural practices, or allowed to do things like watch movies or listen to music or even just roam freely throughout the base. They didn't trust him enough to. But without any memories of his own he'd have been easy enough to mold to their liking, so they did teach him how to fight, how to shoot a gun, how to ride a motorcycle, and how to harness his power, because they undoubtedly wanted to use him as a secret weapon against the Soviets and as a power source (why else would they keep him in a military base and store a bunch of containers filled with his highly explosive chaos energy? How else would he have learned how to ride a human motorcycle with such skill?). Weapons aren't people though, and potential threats don't get kindness, lest people get attached to them, and neither are taught anything they don't absolutely need to know to perform their functions.

So yeah. Poor kid was kept emotionally isolated and ignorant, until Maria came in and demanded better for him. Too bad that made her a liability to them, one they felt they had to get rid of after they decided that Shadow needed to be shelved until such a time that they could actually control him. Remember, they were aiming to shoot her, specifically. If they wanted to shoot Gerald or Shadow, they'd have done it at any point afterward. So even though it was an explosion that ultimately killed her, she was slated to die regardless. Gerald and Shadow were considered valuable; she was just a loose end who convinced Shadow he was a person and turned his loyalties from them to herself.

(Those kids never stood a chance. Even if they had escaped, they'd have been hunted down by the military, and she'd have been killed then instead while he was taken into custody. Their fates were sealed the second they stepped foot into that base. Shadow never would have been allowed to have a decent childhood, and Maria never could have treated Shadow as anything other than a fellow child and friend.)

And when he was brought out of stasis he had no time or inclination to fix any of that ignorance (because he was convinced he would die, along with the rest of the world). All of which puts him in a very disadvantageous spot by the end of the movie, because he's going to be so lost once he wakes back up on earth.

Does he know how to read in any language or how to do basic arithmetic? Does he know any geography or how to read a map? Does he know any first aid or wilderness survival skills? Since he wasn't created in a lab, does he need to eat and drink, and if so does he know what's safe for him to consume? These are all things he might need to know if he's going to try and survive on his own, and unfortunately he also almost certainly doesn't know how to use a computer or a telephone, which would be his main two ways of getting that kind of information if he can't outright ask anyone.

To take it even further, because of his amnesia, does Shadow even know that he's supposed to be a hedgehog?? Does he know what the chaos emeralds are, or that they're emeralds at all, or why he went god mode upon touching them? Does he know that Sonic survived after he passed out and fell to earth? And also, did literally anyone ever tell him Sonic's name??

[et7432]

Not Without Permission

(Klaus Mikaelson)

(Klaus Mikaelson x Reader)

Summary: Elena and Damon leave (Y/N) behind at the last untouched safehouse in Mystic Falls, the one place where the Originals can't just waltz in. It's a temporary peace, and they need her to stay put while they go after an ancient artifact that could change everything. Before they go, they make it crystal clear—no one gets inside, no matter what. The stakes are too high. But when a familiar, dangerous face shows up at the door—Klaus Mikaelson himself—(Y/N)’s calm is about to be tested. Charming, persuasive, and never without a few tricks up his sleeve, Klaus doesn’t take no for an answer. Will she keep the door locked, or will the deadly allure of the Original hybrid be enough to crack her resolve?

I pouted quietly, as I watched Damon and Elena leaving without me. It was my way of masking the yearning for adventure that I couldn't join in on.

"Listen carefully. Your house is the only place in town that the Originals cannot enter. No one can enter without an invitation, no exceptions - not even if someone is bleeding on your doorstep," Damon warns.

"I understand, Damon. Safe haven, magical barrier, invite-only."

Elena struggled with another duffel bag and hauled it to Damon's car trunk.

"It's true, (y/n). We can't risk it."

"Then let me come with you." I walked down the porch steps. "I've been researching those artifacts for weeks. I could be of assistance-"

"No." Elena slammed the trunk. "You need to stay here where it's safe. Plus, don't you have that history report about the 1920s due?"

"Seriously? You're using homework as an excuse while you're out hunting for ancient magical objects?"

"I'd rather do homework than hunt for ancient magical objects that could get you killed," Damon called out as he climbed into the driver's seat.

Elena gave me a quick hug. "We'll be back before you know it."

I watched them get inside the car, frustration boiling within me. The engine roared to life, and Damon rolled down his window.

"Remember - don't open the door for anyone!" His voice carried across the lawn.

"Of course, dad!" I replied sarcastically, putting all my teenage angst into those three words.

The car disappeared down the street, leaving me alone on my supposedly safe front lawn, feeling like a useless researcher stuck in some supernatural time-out.

The desk lamp cast a harsh glow across my laptop screen. The cursor blinked against the white document - mocking me with its steady rhythm. Only my name and the date stared back: "(y/n) Matthews, October 15th."

The cicadas droned outside my window, their endless chirping a symphony of late-night procrastination. I drummed my fingers against the desk, scrolling through my research notes for the thousandth time. Prohibition. Speakeasies. The Jazz Age. My brain refused to string two coherent sentences together about any of it.

I glanced at my phone. 9:47 PM. No messages from Elena or Damon.

"The 1920s represented a period of..." I typed, then deleted it. Too generic.

"In the wake of World War I..." Backspace, backspace, backspace.

The cicadas grew louder, their sound bleeding through my closed window. I pushed back from my desk and paced the room, my sock-covered feet silent against the hardwood floor. My history textbook lay open on the bed, its pages filled with black and white photos of flappers and Model T's.

"This would be so much easier if I could just interview an actual person who lived through it," I muttered, throwing myself back into my desk chair. The leather creaked under my weight. "But no - stay home, (y/n). Do your homework, (y/n). Do the responsible thing, (y/n). Don't get killed by thousand-year-old vampires, (y/n)."

The flashing line on my screen taunted me. I couldn't help imagining what adventures Elena and Damon were having - undoubtedly more exciting than watching an empty screen mock my progress.

I slumped forward, letting my brow make contact with the smooth desktop surface. Overhead, my study light buzzed softly, a constant electrical hum that matched my brain's static.

The peaceful stillness of the night shattered as three sharp knocks echoed through the house. My heart pounded in my chest.

More knocks followed, each one deliberate and measured. I knew it wasn't Damon's impatient pounding or someone in need of help.

I descended the stairs cautiously, avoiding the creaky spots I had memorized long ago. The atrium light cast eerie shadows across the hardwood floor.

"Who is it?" I called out, trying to mask the uncertainty in my voice.

"Good evening," came a refined voice from beyond the door. "Forgive the late hour, but I'm searching for Elena Gilbert. I was told she might be here."

As soon as I heard his words, the hair on my neck stood on end and a shiver ran down my spine. I immediately recognized that voice.

“Well, she’s not here,” I said firmly, glad my voice didn’t waver. "And even if she was, she wouldn't want to talk to a vampire like you."

The man's chuckle turned into a low growl. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"I know who you are." I stepped back from the door, though the barrier spell made the distance unnecessary. "And I know you can't come in."

A low chuckle drifted through the wood. "Clever girl. Elena mentioned you. Haven't I seen you before a few times? - the studious one, always with her nose in a book. Tell me, what are you reading these days?"

"Nothing that would interest you." My fingers gripped the banister behind me, steadying my shaking legs.

"On the contrary, I find human persistence fascinating. The way you dig through dusty tomes and piece together fragments of the past..." His voice moved along the porch, closer to the window. "Speaking of the past, I hear you're writing about the 1920s. I could tell you stories that would make your paper absolutely..." A tap against the wooden door. "Riveting."

My throat went dry as I realized the truth - he had been alive during those times. He probably danced in speakeasies and roamed the gas-lit streets. But how did he know about my writing? Was he watching me earlier, lurking and listening to my conversation with Elena and Damon?

"I have no interest in your stories," I said, trying to keep him talking. I knew Elena would want to know that he was back in town, but my phone was upstairs on my desk, out of reach.

"No? Shame. I particularly enjoyed Chicago during Prohibition. The music, the fashion... the absolute lawlessness of it all. Your textbooks couldn't possibly capture the true spirit of the era."

Each word dripped with casual menace, reminding me of every story I'd heard about his victims. The countless lives he'd ended with that same conversational tone.

"Why are you really here?" I forced steel into my voice, channeling Elena's courage.

"Direct. I like that." Another tap, this time back at the door. "Very well. Since Elena's not answering her phone, perhaps you could pass along a message?"

My hand trembled over the doorknob. Every survival instinct screamed to run upstairs, but a deeper part of me knew - if Klaus wanted to deliver a message, he'd find a way. At least the barrier spell would protect me.

I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

Klaus stood on my porch, hands clasped behind his back. The porch light caught the angles of his face, casting shadows that made him look more a statue than man. His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Brave little thing, aren't you?" He cocked his head. "Most humans who know what I am wouldn't dare."

I rested on the door frame. "The barrier spell works both ways. You can't get in, and I can't accidentally step out."

"Clever too." He took a single step closer, stopping just short of the invisible line. "Though I must say, opening doors to monsters - even with magical protection - shows questionable judgment."

"You said you had a message." I lifted my chin, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Indeed." His eyes locked onto mine, and I fought the urge to look away. "But now I'm far more intrigued by you. Standing here, trembling yet defiant. Tell me, what makes someone choose to face their fears instead of hiding from them?"

"Maybe I'm tired of hiding." The words spilled out before I could stop them. "Maybe I'm tired of being the one left behind to stay safe while my friends risk their lives."

Klaus's smile widened, showing teeth. "Now that's honesty I can appreciate."

I swallowed hard, regretting my outburst. Every story I'd heard about Klaus started with someone letting their guard down, sharing too much.

"The message." I squared my shoulders. "What do you want me to tell Elena?"

"Straight to business?" He traced a finger along the door frame, stopping at the barrier's edge. "And here I thought we were having such a lovely chat about your academic pursuits."

"It's late, and I have homework to finish."

"Ah yes, your paper." His hand dropped to his side. "Though I suspect your mind's no longer on dance halls and bootleggers."

"Klaus." I forced myself to sound more direct. "The message?"

His expression shifted, playfulness vanishing like smoke. "Tell her I found what we discussed in Chicago. The item she's searching for? It's not what she thinks. And if she continues down this path..." He leaned forward, close enough that I could see flecks of gold in his eyes. "Well, let's just say some treasures are better left buried."

"That's cryptic, even for you."

"Consider it a courtesy warning. I do so hate to see wasted potential." He stepped back, adjusting his jacket cuffs. "Whether that potential belongs to Elena or yourself remains to be seen."

Goosebumps appeared on my skin from his words. "I'll tell her."

"My thanks for being such a reliable messenger bird." He gave a slight bow and turned his back to me walking away.

Klaus's silhouette started blending into the dimness of nightfall along the asphalt street, an impulsive need shot up my spine making my heart hammer against its cage; an acknowledgement of shared knowledge perhaps? Against all better judgement and advice whispering urgently for silence in my ear, I called out to him,

"Klaus!"

"Wait." As I called out his name, Klaus froze in place, his body still and tense as if carved from a block of cold, white marble. His face revealed a struggle, with furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he wrestled with conflicting emotions.

Finally, he took a deep breath and turned on his heel, his determined steps leading him back to my home.

The sound of his shoes crunching against the gravel path echoed through the quiet evening air as he strode purposefully towards me. Klaus was back on my porch as close to me as he could get this time without touching the invisible barrier.

"Yes?" His tone was casual, but his expression remained unreadable as he took in my call. Curiosity laced his low baritone voice. Despite the tension in his posture, he exuded a sense of grace and anticipation with a slight turn of his head and a raised eyebrow.

"I was wondering... if you could tell me about the 1920s?" I gesture helplessly. "But you'd have to stay on the porch, obviously."

His lips curved into an amused smile. "Curiosity wins over caution? How delightfully human."

"You can sit." I backed away from the door. "Let me just-"

I darted to the living room, dragging one of the heavy wooden chairs from our dining set. Its legs scraped across the floor as I pushed it through the doorway, over the threshold.

Klaus caught the chair with one hand, positioning it with casual grace. "Such hospitality."

"Can I get you something to drink?" My heart hammered against my ribs. "Not... I mean, obviously not blood, but..."

"Scotch, if you have it." He settled into the chair. "Your father keeps a decent collection, as I can tell."

I froze. "How did you-"

"The cabinet right at the end of the hallway," He looked straight ahead. "I make it my business to know these things."

I found myself walking to our alcohol cabinet, hands shaking as I reached for the crystal decanter. The amber liquid caught the lamplight as I poured a generous measure into a glass.

When I returned, Klaus looked almost relaxed and at ease I had never seen him this way before. I felt ridiculous but I couldn’t take any chances with the untamable original. I quickly but the glass down on the ground and grabbed an umbrella by the front door using it to push the glass past the barrier.

“Really love? A bit overly cautious?”he accepted the scotch leaning down picking up the glass.

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to be too cautious around you Klaus,” I rolled my eyes.

I paused in disbelief as the reality set in that an old vampire let alone an original was willing to assist me with my school paper. "Hold on, I need to grab a few things," I mumbled under my breath before quickly climbing the stairs to retrieve my laptop and phone.

I also snatched a thick blanket, anticipating the chilly air outside at this time of night.

Making my way back down the stairs, I bundled myself in the warm blanket and settled in the doorway, tucking my legs under for added coziness. With my laptop balanced on my lap, I turned to face him.

He sat across from me with a playful smile on his face, his words laced with flirtatiousness. "You are a most intriguing creature," he declared, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously.

My gaze traveled over his handsome features, admiring every detail - from the sharp angle of his jaw to the way his hair fell across his forehead.

Feeling a blush spread across my cheeks, I cleared my throat nervously. "Sh-should we get started?" I stammered.

"By all means," Klaus responded, raising his glass in a small toast before taking a sip of the scotch. "But where would you like to start? The Roaring Twenties were quite an eventful decade, after all."

I chewed at my bottom lip momentarily, scanning the information I had already collected on my screen. "Gangsters and speakeasies," I finally said. "Prohibition and the rise of organized crime."

His mouth quivered upwards slightly into a smile. "A fascinating period indeed." He leaned back in his chair, looking every inch the relaxed gentleman. Yet, there was an ominous stillness about him that contradicted his comfortable appearance.

He began to speak, describing the decadence and vibrancy of the 1920s with a vividness that only someone who lived through it could possess. His stories were filled with tales of moonshine and jazz, of raucous parties and hushed backroom deals.

As he spun his colourful narratives, I found myself increasingly drawn in by his storytelling, my homework temporarily forgotten. His voice wove a tapestry of the past so tangible that I felt as though I could almost touch it.

"There was this feeling in the air," he tried to explain with a far-off look in his eyes. "A desperation...a recklessness. It was as if everyone knew they were dancing on the edge of a cliff - but they were too caught up in their own enjoyment to care."

Then he shifted gears and tales of extravagance turned grimmer as he began narrating about the violent underbelly of the age - amoral gangsters with Tommy guns ruling cityscapes through fear and intimidation, corruption permeating every layer of society.

His violent accounts of the past made my blood run cold reminding me exactly who – or rather 'what' – Klaus really was - an ancient supernatural creature capable of unspeakable horrors, who had lived through centuries of human history, who had seen - no, done - the very worst humanity had to offer.

Yet, for all that he was and all that I knew him to be, in that moment, as he sat back in that old wooden chair recounting a bygone era with an almost nostalgic air about him – Klaus seemed startlingly human.

Hours passed and the moon climbed higher in the sky. The cold crept into my bones, stiffening my fingers against the keyboard. But I had too many questions and Klaus seemed more than willing to answer them.

A sense of camaraderie began to settle between us, one that made me forget for a few minutes about the inconceivable dangers associated with his kind. The night felt less threatening with Klaus’ presence - his tales from the past bridging the divide as we sat together under the chilling autumn wind sharing stories – his so supernaturally old and mine so humanly young.

As the night began to fade, a tinge of sadness crept into my heart, knowing that this evening was coming to an end. The weight of reality pressed down on me as I faced Klaus. His striking eyes, glowing like liquid gold in the dim light, were fixated on me once again. His eyes held a vast depth of knowledge, and for a moment, I was entranced by their mysteries.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know?" he asked, finishing the last sip of his scotch.

My eyes still locked onto his and I shook my head slowly, a soft smile playing on my lips. More than anything, I wanted to indulge in this moment just a bit longer.

"No," I replied, fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of my laptop. "That...that's enough for now."

He chuckled softly, draining the last remnants of the amber liquid from his glass and placing it softly on the porch floor. Rising up from the chair, he stretched subtly, the muscles rippling under his attire creating a muscular silhouette against the glow of the approaching dawn.

"Very well then," he said, stepping towards me. He extended his hand to help me up from the cold wooden floor. As I reached out to accept it, a spark seemed to dart between us, potent and electrifying. I recoiled my hand before grabbing his realizing that he could pull me out from the protective barrier. I saw him frown for a moment but he recovered quickly as if it didn’t bother him.

“I should leave now, little creature,” he says almost endearingly.

"Wait." I scrambled to get him to stay in some way a little longer. "What about the message for Elena?"

"Ah yes." He paused at the edge of the porch steps. "Don’t worry your pretty mind about Elena’s business.”

"You're not going to explain what you meant about the item she's searching for?"

"Some discoveries are best made firsthand." He turned back, shadows playing across his features. "Besides, I've given you plenty to work with - both for your paper and for Elena."

My fingers clutched the laptop tighter. "Why help me at all?"

"Perhaps I enjoy nurturing young minds." His voice carried back through the darkness. "Or perhaps I simply appreciate anyone willing to look beyond the surface of history's official narrative."

My lips parted, ready to speak, but before I could even form a word, Klaus had vanished into thin air without uttering a simple 'goodbye'. The absurdity of the situation made me laugh, despite everything that had just transpired. I chuckled softly under my breath as I stood alone staring out at the vacant street from my front door. 

I remained motionless for a while, hearing the cicadas pick up their song again, questioning whether the strange meeting had been real.

His empty scotch glass remained on the porch, catching moonlight like a diamond in the rough. I stared at it, mind racing through every detail of our conversation. Klaus's words about speakeasies, the hidden rooms, the secrets, crimes - they painted a vivid picture of the 1920s . But something nagged at me.

I pulled my phone out and opened my messages to Elena.

"Klaus was here. Said he found 'the item' you were looking for claims it's not what you think. Warning you about buried treasures?" My thumb hit over the send button.

The response came seconds later: "WHAT? Are you okay? Stay inside!"

"I'm fine. He couldn't cross the threshold." I glanced at the empty chair. "Elena, what's this item he mentioned?"

"Don't worry about that. We're turning around and heading back home now."

"It's late, I'm safe. He's gone." I looked at my laptop proud of the notes I'd taken. I set it aside on a table by the front door.

Elena's response buzzed through. "Be safe. We'll talk in a little bit. Lock everything."

"I will. Don't worry so much." I picked up the blanket ready to close the door. 

But the empty scotch glass still sat on the porch I couldn't resist the urge to clean up.

"I really should bring that inside," I thought to myself, stepping over the threshold to grab it.

My fingers had barely closed around the glass when the air shifted. A rush of movement slammed me back against the house wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. Klaus's hands pressed on either side of my head, caging me in.

"Careful, love." His breath ghosted across my cheek. "Crossing thresholds can be dangerous business."

My heart thundered against my ribs. "You were waiting."

"Watching." His eyes traced my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "To see if temptation would overpower your better judgment once more."

"I just wanted the glass-" My voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

"Fascinating." His thumb traced along my jawline, the touch feather-light yet electric. "Your heart's racing, but you're not trying to run."

I pressed my palms flat against the wall behind me, desperate for something solid to ground me. "Maybe I know it wouldn't make a difference."

"Oh, it would make all the difference." Klaus's other hand slid down to rest at the curve of my neck, his fingers cool against my pulse point. "The chase always adds such... excitement."

"Is that what this is to you? A game?"

"Life's a game, love. The trick is knowing which pieces to move." His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, and my breath caught. "And when to take risks."

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the sharp scent of autumn leaves. Klaus's body blocked most of the porch light now, casting us both in shadow.

He spoke softly, his accent flowing over the words like smooth silk.

"What fascinates you more - the monster or the man?"

"I-" The word stuck in my throat as his fingers traced patterns on my skin. "Both. Neither. I don't know."

"Now that's honesty." He shifted closer, until barely a breath separated us. "Most humans choose one or the other. They either crave the darkness or desperately seek the light." His nose skimmed along my cheek. "But you... you see both, don't you? The artist and the killer. The teacher and the terror."

One of my hands found their way to his chest, but I couldn't tell if I meant to push him away or pull him closer. The fabric of his jacket was soft under my fingertips, hiding the immortal strength beneath.

My head was spinning, my thoughts scattered as Klaus's proximity overwhelmed me. I wanted to push him away, to run inside and lock the door behind me. But at the same time, I couldn't deny that a part of me was drawn to him, intrigued by his words and his touch.

"You shouldn't be here," I managed to say, my voice trembling.

Klaus's lips curved into a predatory smile. "But I am."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Why? Why do you keep coming back?"

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "Because you intrigue me."

I shivered at the feeling of his warm breath on my skin. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" He pulled back slightly, studying my face with those piercing blue eyes. "I want to show you what real passion is, love. To open your eyes to a world beyond your mundane existence."

I couldn't deny the spark of curiosity that flickered within me at his words. But I refused to give in so easily.

"I know what passion is," I said stubbornly.

"Do you? Has anyone ever made your heart race like this?" Klaus's hand trailed down my neck and over my chest before resting on my waist.

I swallowed hard as he leaned in again, our faces so close that our noses were almost touching.

"I can make you feel things you've never felt before," he whispered against my lips.

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I couldn't let myself succumb to him just yet.

"Who says I want that?" I challenged, trying not to let his nearness cloud my judgment.

"You do." His voice was low and confident. "You crave excitement and danger just as much as you fear it."

I wanted to deny it, but deep down I knew he was right. There was a part of me that longed for something more, something beyond the endless cycle of work, eat, and sleep.

"I'm not like you," I insisted, searching his eyes for some grain of understanding. Yet all I saw were galaxies of blue teasing me with unparalleled enigma.

His laughter echoed through the night, as soft and alluring as forbidden velvet. "Oh darling, nobody said you had to be." The fingers at my waist tightened slightly, pulling me inescapably closer. "All you need to be is... open."

"Open to what?" I whispered, my voice quivering, my heart hammered wildly against my chest.

His lips crashed into mine, fierce and demanding, with a passion that spoke of centuries of longing. The glass slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering on the wooden planks beneath us. My hands found his jacket lapels, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, my fingers curling into the expensive fabric. His fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth moved against mine with desperate intensity, every touch igniting fire beneath my skin. My heart thundered against my ribs, matching the fierce rhythm of his immortal strength pressing against me. I could feel centuries of loneliness and desire in the way he held me, his touch alternating between gentle reverence and possessive need. The wooden porch railing pressed into my back, grounding me in this moment that felt suspended between reality and dream.

His hand slid down my spine, leaving trails of fire in its wake, each touch a dangerous promise that made me shiver. I arched into him, gasping as his teeth grazed my lower lip, the gesture both tender and predatory. The rough wood siding pressed against my back, splinters catching at my sweater, a stark reminder of reality that did nothing to break the spell of his presence.

"Such sweet surrender," Klaus breathed against my mouth, his accent thicker with desire. His stubble scraped my skin as he traced kisses along my jaw, each one deliberate and claiming. "And here I thought you were the cautious one, love."

My fingers clutched his shoulders, seeking anchor in a storm of sensation, feeling the immortal strength beneath his expensive jacket. "I am cautious."

"Evidently not." His laugh vibrated against my throat, dark and rich like aged whiskey. "Though I must admit, your recklessness is... intoxicating."

The word snapped something in my brain, cutting through the haze of desire like a knife. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Deadly. Every warning Elena had ever given me about Klaus crashed back like a tidal wave - stories of his cruelty, his manipulation, the trail of broken bodies he'd left across centuries.

"Wait." I pressed my palms against his chest, feeling his heart beat slow and steady beneath my hands. "Stop."

To my surprise, he did. Klaus pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark with hunger that wasn't entirely vampiric, predatory desire written in every line of his immortal face. "Having second thoughts?"

"I'm having all the thoughts." My voice shook, betraying the chaos in my mind. "Every single one I should have had before I stepped outside this threshold. Every warning bell that should have rung hours ago."

"And yet here you are." His thumb traced circles on my hip, each movement sending shivers down my spine. "Making choices that would terrify your friends. Defying every careful warning they've whispered behind closed doors."

"They'd be right to be terrified." I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of my own recklessness. "You're..."

"A monster?" His smile held no warmth, just centuries of dark promises. "We've established that love. Multiple times tonight. Or have you forgotten our earlier conversations?"

"No, you're..." I struggled to form coherent thoughts with him still pressed against me, his presence overwhelming every sense. The scent of aged whiskey and leather clouded my mind, making it impossible to think straight. "You're Klaus. You don't do this - whatever this is. You have schemes and plans and..." I drew in a shaky breath, acutely aware of how his touch seemed to burn through the thin fabric of my shirt. "You don't get distracted like this. You're always ten steps ahead of everyone else."

"Perhaps this is part of a scheme." His fingers skimmed up my side, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The predatory gleam in his eyes made my heart stutter. "Or perhaps you've simply caught my interest. A thousand years on this earth, and still you manage to surprise me."

"That might be worse." My voice came out barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of what those words could mean. The thought of being truly interesting to Klaus Mikaelson was more terrifying than any calculated plot.

His laugh was genuine this time. "Smart girl." He stepped back, leaving me cold in the autumn air. "Though not quite smart enough to stay inside, it seems."

I wrapped my arms around myself, looking down at the shattered glass as I shifted uncomfortably on the porch. "You orchestrated this whole thing." The realization settled like lead in my stomach.

"The history lesson? Yes. The kiss?" His eyes glinted dangerously in the porch light pleased. "That was all you, love. Crossing thresholds, chasing after crystal glasses... Such impulsive decisions."

"You could have just taken the glass with you when you left." Even to my own ears, the argument sounded weak, defensive.

"And miss this delightful demonstration of poor judgment?" Klaus brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering a moment too long against my cheek. "Where would be the fun in that?"

My phone buzzed insistently in my pocket - probably Elena again, wondering why I wasn't responding. Klaus's eyes flickered down to the sound, a calculating expression crossing his features.

"You should answer that. Your friends are quite protective." He took another step back. "Though I doubt they'd approve of tonight's... extracurricular activities."

"Don't." Heat flooded my cheeks as my hand instinctively touched my still-tingling lips. "This was a mistake."

"Was it?" He crouched down, picking up a large shard of broken crystal, his movements deliberately slow and graceful. "Seems more like an education to me. History, chemistry..." The glass caught moonlight as he turned it between his fingers, creating dancing patterns on the porch walls. "A practical lesson in crossing lines."

My phone buzzed again, the vibration seeming to echo in the tense silence between us. Klaus straightened back up to his full height.

"Your friends are getting impatient." Klaus stepped closer, his boots crunching over broken glass. "Though I must say, their timing leaves much to be desired."

I backed up against the door, heart pounding. "I should go inside."

"Should you?" His fingers traced the invisible barrier at the threshold. "We both know that's not what you want."

"What I want isn't always what's best for me."

"Now that's where you're wrong, love." Klaus's eyes locked with mine, intense and magnetic. His gaze held centuries of dark promises, sending shivers down my spine. "Sometimes the most dangerous choices yield the sweetest rewards. Why deny yourself?"

"Because I actually want to stay alive?" My wavering voice revealed my hesitation.

"No." His smile turned predatory, revealing just a hint of fang. "You're curious. Drawn to the darkness, even as you pretend to fear it." He gestured at the door behind me, his rings catching the porch light. "A couple of words, (y/n). That's all it would take. Invite me in."

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I gripped the door knob. "So you can what? Add me to your list of conquests?"

"So we can explore this... chemistry between us." His accent wrapped around the words like silk, each syllable a caress. "Don't pretend you haven't felt it building all evening. The way your heart races when I'm near, how your breath catches at my touch." His words hit too close to home, making my pulse stutter traitorously.

"Klaus..." The name came out as barely more than a whisper.

"Say yes." His hand hovered near my face, not quite touching, but I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. "Give in to what we both want."

My phone buzzed a third time, insistent and grounding. The familiar vibration cut through the spell he was weaving around me. I closed my eyes, fighting against the pull of his presence. "I can't."

"Can't?" His voice carried an edge of danger. "Or won't?"

"Both." I gripped the doorframe harder, using the rough wood to anchor myself. "My friends trust me. I won't betray that."

"Loyalty." Klaus spat the word like poison. "Such a human weakness." His fingers traced the invisible barrier again, testing its limits. "And yet, it's precisely that quality which makes you..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Fascinating."

"I'm not fascinating." The words came out sharper than intended. "I'm just trying to survive in a world that keeps getting more complicated by the day."

"You underestimate yourself." His hand dropped to his side. "Most humans would have slammed the door in my face hours ago. But you..." His eyes raked over me, intense and calculating. "You stayed. Listened. Learned."

"Maybe I just needed help with my history paper."

"We both know that's not true." Klaus stepped back, his boots crunching over broken glass. "You're drawn to power, to knowledge. To danger." He smiled, all predator. "To me."

My phone buzzed again, the sound almost angry now. Klaus's eyes flickered to my pocket.

"Answer it." He gestured dismissively. "Before they send a search party."

"They might anyway." I pulled the phone out with trembling fingers. "Elena's not exactly the trusting type these days."

"Can you blame her?" Klaus's eyes glinted with dark amusement. "After everything that's happened in this town, trust becomes quite the precious commodity."

The screen lit up my face as I checked the messages. Four texts from Elena, each more worried than the last.

"Tell me something." I looked up from the phone. "Was any of this real? The history lessons, the stories?"

"Every word." Klaus picked up another shard of glass, turning it in the moonlight. "Though I admit, my motivations weren't entirely... academic."

"You could have just asked me out like a normal person."

His laugh echoed across the porch. "Normal? Love, I haven't been normal for a thousand years." He kicked the glass shards. "Besides, where's the intrigue in that?"

My phone buzzed again. Elena's name flashed across the screen, this time with a call.

"You should answer that." Klaus nodded toward the phone. "Your friend's persistence is admirable, if somewhat inconvenient."

I swiped to accept the call, keeping my eyes on Klaus. "Elena?"

"(y/n)! Thank god. Are you okay? Why weren't you answering?"

Klaus's smirk widened at Elena's panicked tone. He mouthed 'tell her' with a challenging raise of his eyebrow.

"I'm fine." I turned away from his taunting expression. "Just got caught up in my history paper. Lost track of time."

"You're sure everything's alright?"

"Perfectly fine." The lie tasted bitter on my still-tingling lips. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Klaus's low chuckle carried across the porch as I ended the call. "Such a convincing liar. I'm almost impressed."

"Don't." I slipped the phone back into my pocket. "This doesn't change anything."

"No?" He crossed the distance between us in two fluid steps. "Then why lie to your dear friend Elena? Why not tell her I'm still here?"

My back pressed against the door frame as he leaned in, his breath ghosting across my cheek. The scent of whiskey and leather overwhelmed my senses.

"Because she'd try to save me." The words came out before I could stop them.

"And you don't want to be saved." His fingers traced the curve of my jaw. "Say it, love. Invite me in."His words hung in the air between us, heavy with promise and danger.

His touch left fire in its wake, each caress stoking the flames higher. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive, every brush of his fingers sending sparks through my nervous system. The rough wood of the house wall dug into my back, the only anchor keeping me from drowning in sensation.

"Please..." The word escaped before I could stop it, breathy and desperate.

"Please what?" His tone is dangerous and seductive. His thumb traced my bottom lip, pressing lightly. "Be specific, love."

Each feather light touch from his hand felt like a jolt of electricity, sending shivers down my spine and causing my muscles to tense in anticipation.

Each circle he traced made me arch closer, seeking more contact.

"I..." The words tangled in my throat as his lips found that spot behind my ear that made my knees weak. "God, Klaus..."

"Not quite the invitation I'm looking for." His teeth grazed my skin, drawing a gasp from my lips. "Try again."

The rational part of my brain screamed warnings, but it was drowning in a sea of want. His hands, his mouth, his voice - everything about him demanded surrender. And I wanted to give in, wanted it with an intensity that frightened me.

"Come..." My voice shook as his fingers tangled in my hair.

He chuckled deeply, his hot breath rolling down my neck. "Come what, love?" His voice was a soft purr, dangerously coercive. He was playing with me and we both knew it.

"Come...in." I finally managed, the words barely making their way past the lump in my throat. His lips drew into a triumphant smirk as he pulled back, meeting my gaze with an intense hunger in his eyes.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before I could respond, he swept me into his arms, crossing the threshold of my front door with an ease that should have alarmed me. Instead, a reckless thrill wound its way around my insides, replacing fear with something far more intoxicating.

“You are mine now,” he growls, slamming the door with a loud thud that emanated through the house. The weight of finality fills the room. It was a declaration and a warning, both rolled into one.

Everything had changed; nothing would ever go back to the way it once was.

[somerandomcockroach]

Okay, but decepticon Prowl didn't plan and prepare and properly defect from the decpticons, he was thrown out.

The ask that mentioned him being a bad shot got me thinking.

We rarely see Prowl as a bad shot, so either one of two things are going on

1.) Prowl is just not emtionally invested in this fight and is running too many numbers for something else but he has to be here against his will

2.) Prowl is intentionally shooting certain deceptions because "they threaten the future of the decepticons" (they threaten and beat up Prowl)

So after enough "bad shots" the grunts of the decepticon base Prowl was stationed on (as barricade) beat him up, and throw him out. Prowl is annoyed by this because obviously he is important but he can't reveal himself without ruining his cover. So he goes planet hitch-hiking to get back to Megatron and obviously get reinstated and protection.

While planet hopping, "Barricade" meets Jazz who is currently under the name of Meiser since he is infiltrating and taking a look at some decepticon territory. Barricade does not know that Meiser has been following him since he got thrown out. Barricade also does not know that Meiser has his suspicions about who he is. Afterall, there aren't a lof of praxians left in the deception forces, and this one has some dumb gold paint on his cheveron that has already started to flake and show red in these harsh outdoor conditions.

Barricade does think that Meiser is either an autobot spy (since he is not accounted for in any of Prowl's databases and battlefield simulations), or has a major glitch in his logic circuits that got him kicked out and now desperate for any social interaction (which must be the reason why he is hanging around Barricade, since no one ever actually willingly hung out around him before, and especially nobody hangs out with Prowl).

Things keep happening that try to kill "Barricade". But luckly clumsy Meiser is right there to "accidentally" shoot the problem right in the processor. Barricade does not remember Meiser having a gun on him. Or a knife. Or that feral of a smile. But anyways he has places to be and a mech to see.

Prowl intends on turning in Meiser-the-spy or just ordering the death of Meiser-the-idiot once he gets back to Megatron. Especially since through this adventure, Prowl has learned that Meiser will listen to a long thought out and perfect plan, then immidiately go do his own thing, so he can't be used as some disposable pawn in one of Prowls plans.

Evnetually Prowl gets back to Megatron. It is unfortunate that this regrouping happens on an open battle-field, but Prowl predicts that the decepticons will have to make a hastly retreat in 27.8 joors and does not want to miss his ride home. He expects to be welcomed by Megatron, updated on all battle field data, and then sent to the safety of the back of the lines to go sip a cube and win this battle.

Except Megatron has noticed that decepticons tend to have more friendly fire where ever he sends Prowl. And Prowl has already given him predictions and battle maps and troop movement plans for the next 100 vorn. And honestly? Megatron has wanted to punch Prowl for a while now.

So he does just that. One moment Prowl is clearing his vocalizer to get his attention while he is OBVIOSLY busy beating up an autobot. And the next moment Prowl is 12 feets away with a large fist-sized crater in his chest. Serves that nerd right.

Prowl goes offline. Not from the injury. But from the glitch that spawned when Megatron didn't welcome him back and start a much needed debreif.

Anyways, Prowl wakes up in the autobot medbay.

HELP, oh you all really don't like Prowl and want him punched ahagsgga

In my mind it's hard to turn events to that. You see, I think Megatron would treat Prowl like autobots treat Ratchet. Megatron is ruthless in the way he treats his warriors, they fight for "freedom" so someone's life is worth it. Prowl always gives 99% successful plan with minimal risks. And these plans work because Megatron accepts them. Decepticons can say nothing but they hate "Prowl" behind all these plans, because they can see that they are turning in even more bugs than they were before. Before it looked at least like a live or die battle. Now it is a straight order of dying in their cases. But hey, ahah, who is this "Prowl"? There is only Barricade and a possibility of his hidden identity leaking, it's just Megatron can't keep his optics on him 24/7 so making him second identity is a good way of preventing him from instant death. I actually want to think of the ways Starscream could switch his attention to Prowl and not like him because he can't be bribed. "With such tactician even I can be a leader" and Prowl just "-_-".

Prowl is left without voice, tracking, comms, everything is done to not let Megatron find him, but he will search for him even if everyone tells him he is dead. Prowl just need to fix everything and not let others find any info on him and somehow leave to send a signal. So I bet there are much more layers to all of that. For Megatron to want to punch him he needs to be like Starscream or be a Sentinel Prime.

Pffht, imagine you see a very beaten up Decepticon, clearly beaten up by his own people. Everything that allows to track you is ripped off. What does it mean? They wanted to get rid of him while making it look like he died of accident in the end, they got all they needed from him and left him to suffer. Means he had something valuable within him and clearly will be more anticipating in the interrogation with autobots. Revenge takes a place, wouldn't it? So even if Jazz is in a good condition and finds him, he clearly will bring him to Autobot base right away. Prowl will not search the way on his own, he will be thrown out where it is impossible to get out by his own, Junkion, so his priority also will be to get saved even if go with autobots with the possibility of revealing his identity and he will make everything to not let it happen

[scribbledghost]

OUR WRITING GODDESS HAS RESPONDED!

I love the world you’ve created with the inhumane vessels… honestly anything with them in it is enough! First times with vess alone, with the vessels together… vess writing a song for his love, the vessel manor goofing around, a failed baking attempt, a birthday party for their love (do vessels have birthdays? They deserve cake too) and-

"Writing goddess" made my day and I want you to know that, anon

Those are so many good ideas!! Honestly I'd like to expand more on the First time with Ves alone and first time with the vessels together ideas in their own posts, because I'd like to explore those dynamics!

However, it would be a crime for me to not mention some of the rest, so picture it with me: the vessels having some Shenanigans while they try to make you a birthday cake.

Most of the food you eat is provided by the manor itself. It just sort of... appears? No one cooks it. No one hunts. It just shows up. Granted, the vessels don't need to eat, so any food goes to you. They *can* eat, they just don't need to.

But you'd mentioned your birthday to them, and how you'd love a cake. The vessels themselves don't have birthdays anymore, but they still remember them from when they were human (III and IV remember more than Vessel and II do, just because the latter two haven't been human in a much longer time).

They collectively make the decision to attempt to make you a cake themselves. They feel like it would mean more than simply having the house manifest one for you.

But... not a one of them know how to cook or bake. Like, at all. Whatsoever.

You're in the library for the day under Vessel's instruction while they make an attempt to utilize the cookbook that had appeared on II's bedside table that morning.

They're all crowded around IV while he reads through the book. It's all Greek to them.

Actually, not even Greek. At least Vessel understands Greek. He's been around long enough to understand most languages. But he's never encountered these words in this order before.

But after some questions (and some wayward vines pushing bags of sugar and flour towards them), they at least manage to get going.

III is suddenly reminded that he had a sweet tooth as a human, and after about five seconds II is wrenching the bag of sugar away from him before III can just pour it into his mouth.

IV is plugging along fairly well, mixing the wet and dry ingredients separately. While attending to the first bowl, however, both he and Vessel neglect to notice II peeking into the bowl with the flour and baking powder.

Until they hear an unholy sneeze, and look over to see this:

So. That bowl's out. No matter, a new one is quickly made by III while IV is busy yelling at II for having the audacity to openly sneeze over food. Vessel is still laughing.

From there though, things are... surprisingly smooth. None of the vessels have ever operated the oven, so the manor steps in to provide aid.

Vessel insists on decorating it. Does he do a great job? .... not particularly. But he tried dammit, and that counts for something.

You'll have four very nervous demi-humans looking at you when you take the first bite. As soon as you tell them it's good, they all sigh in relief.

Be sure to get your fill while you can though. III will annihilate that cake as soon as it's left unattended.