#I would now like to concentrate more on the others

[tbaluver]

his necklace- sylus x reader

pairing: sylus x fem! reader cw: MDNI ,p in v genre: smut + drabble a/n: i saw a post of someone saying imagine his necklace dangling over you while he's on top of you and i dunno where it went bc my feed REFRESHED so it's inspo from that as well and from the new four star memory ! enjoy reading ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

you looked so perfect like this you’re a babbling and moaning mess, splayed out below him. your adorable whines that escape your lips that begged for more and motivates him to help you get off. and who is he to say no to your plea?

fuck if he could stay in like this forever he would. a picture or a video of you two fucking wouldn’t compare to what he’s feeling right now. he doesn’t want to leave the warmth of your pussy. you were so warm, so soft and your walls fluttered him so perfectly.

he held your hand in his while his cock stretched you out, lowering himself down on you everytime you whimpered or moaned out for him. “that’s it, such a pretty girl” he coos, his thumb caressing your soft skin, soothing you as he watches you become more of a mess under him.

you're underneath him, seeing all of his muscles flex as his necklace dangles over your face. his chain, bouncing with each thrust into you. that necklace. one of the jewelry he ones that he treasures, only a few could ever own. your name engraved on it so wherever he goes, a part of you is with him always.

his brow was creased and lined with sweat. his face was knotted in concentration and pleasure to get you both to reach your high again. his sweat rolling down to your body, but you don’t mind. both of you were lightly glistening with each other's sweat while your skin was littered with his soft kisses.

his hands, still entwined with yours, pressed yours further into the mattress as he sped up his thrusts. he let out a breathy chuckle followed along with a smirk seeing your cock drunk face, drool sliding down the corners of your mouth.

with a quick, yet passionate kiss and a violent jerk of his hips, hot and creamy spurts of his cum fills you to the brim. your legs are shaking, his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you cum for who knows what round this was. neither of you were counting.

“i know i know, you did so well for me sweetie,” your eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, and sylus can tell. “let me clean you up baby.” he hums, leaving your side for a moment and returning with your favorite shirt of his as he softly cleans the mess between your thighs.

the smell of him will never leave you from how often he’s always on you. and that’s exactly how he would want it, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

[kriimuline-blog]

Wait, I have so much to say about it that it frightens myself.

First: this is true. No arguing.

BUT

I have actively working to get rid of my self-sabotage habits for last 10 years. And oh, what a wonder: I got and still get accused for being selfish, full of myself, thinking too much of myself. Surprisingly none of people I have asked for help were angry or disappointed or whatever. But other people who were just bystanders - oh, they were. "So, other people must help you to live? Who even are you to expect that???"

I don't reject praise but if I seek attention for a work that is not absolutely perfect, guess what people say? Bad things. You wrote a book and want it to be reviewed? Well, from time to time book sounds like badly translated from English - for example this one phrase. Bro, it was this only phrase! I even thought about it and decided that as it was joke about publicity in USA diner, I can leave it! Why you concentrate on this one phrase that is not perfect? Because I HAVE to be perfect to be good?

No one actually says bad things about me if I say no. BUT. If I'm not active, not on the picture, if I take care of MY need to be alone and rest, no one remembers me. Isolating myself when hurt? Not exactly, I am isolated to take care of my needs, but if I seek attention and help when hurt, most people are: "Nope. To say good things when asked is not sincere, not can do." Or "I'm kinda busy right now." Or they say nothing. Just ignore me. If I want to be part of circle, I HAVE to participate in the events. Other people? Hey, they have many more circles, this one is not an important one even. But I have only two main circles. if I pass the possibility to do more there, people just ... forget about me. And that's true, not just my own imagination.

So it's not self-sabotage that person should stop and live happily ever after. It's actually trying to fit in with other people, to be what they want you to be. So that they would accept you.

Yes, most people does not help you anyway. They just criticize. You can't be liked by everyone. And maybe sometimes to be in the pack is not even worth the trouble. But to try to fit in, to be loved and liked is natural. I am extreme introvert and diagnosed autist and still I have this drive to fit in. Not just a self-sabotage. More like trying to be what others want, even if it's hurting myself.

Ok, I don't watch news. Maybe this is only self-sabotage =)

[gardenwalrus]

Pattie Boyd on herself, George, John and Cynthia being spiked with LSD-laced coffee by their dentist, John Riley

Our dentist, John Riley, had turned us on to acid. He and his girlfriend invited John, Cynthia, George, and me to dinner at his house in Hyde Park Square one evening sometime in 1965. [...] We had a lovely meal, plenty to drink, and at the end George said, “Let’s go.” We were planning to see some friends playing at the Pickwick Club. John Riley’s girlfriend jumped to her feet. “You can’t,” she said. “You haven’t had any coffee yet. It’s ready, I’ve made it - and it’s delicious.” We sat down again and drank the coffee she was insistent we should have. But then we were really keen to get away and John Lennon said, “We must go now. These friends of ours are going to be on soon. It’s their first night, we’ve got to go and see them.” And John Riley said, “You can’t leave.” “What are you talking about?” said John Lennon. “You’ve just had LSD.” “No, we haven’t.” “Yes, you have,” said our host. “It was in the coffee.” John Lennon was absolutely furious. “How dare you fucking do this to us?” he said.

George and I said, “Do what?” We didn’t know what LSD was. John Lennon was the only one of us who knew because he had read about it in Playboy. He said, “It’s a drug,” and as it began to take effect we felt even more strongly that we didn’t want to be there. I wondered if the dentist, who hadn’t had any coffee, had given it to us hoping the evening might end in an orgy. We were desperate to escape. John Riley said he would drive us and we should leave our car with him. “No,” we said. We piled into my Mini, which seemed to be shrinking, and drove to the club where our friends were playing. All the way the car felt smaller and smaller, and by the time we arrived we were completely out of it. People kept recognising George and coming up to him. They were moving in and out of focus, then looked like animals. We clung to each other, feeling surreal. Soon we moved on to the Ad Lib Club - we knew it and thought we might feel better if we were in familiar surroundings. It wasn’t far from the Pickwick so we walked and on the way I remember trying to break a shop window. The Ad Lib was on the top floor, above the Prince Charles Theatre in Leicester Place, and we thought the lift was on fire because there was a little red light inside. As the doors opened, we crawled out and bumped into Mick Jagger, Marianne Faithfull, and Ringo. John told them we’d been spiked. The effect of the drug was getting stronger and stronger, and we were all in hysterics and crazy. When we sat down, the table elongated. Hours later we decided to go home. We climbed into the car again and this time George drove - at no more than ten miles an hour, concentrating hard, all the way to Esher. But it felt as though he was doing a thousand miles an hour [...] it was daylight by the time we got home. We went into Kinfauns and locked the gate so that the cleaner wouldn’t come in and find us, put the cat into a room on her own, and sat down. The drug took about eight hours to wear off, but it was very frightening and we never spoke to the dentist again.

- From Pattie Boyd's autobiography Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me (2007)

[atenea585]

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Tags/Warnings: +18, smut, language, spanking, pussy spanking, dirty talk.

Your hands being restrained by his belt, your fingers holding tightly onto the headboard of the bed as his thrusts caused it to hit the wall again and again. There’s no way the entire building wasn’t listening to both of you, especially you and your screams.

“That’s a good girl.” He said under his breath, leaning over your body to speak in your ear. “You’re so fuckin’ good for me, baby… So hot and soft I feel like I could break you. If I had had you before… Wouldn’t have even let you breathe without having my dick inside your fuckin’ pussy.”

You moaned lowly at his words. You couldn’t think or even focus on one thing, the pleasure clouding your mind, causing you to feel dizzy. Is it possible to get dizzy with lust?

“Are you always such a good freakin’ girl?” He murmured against your ear, giving your hair a tug, which he held in his fist as he continued to thrust into you. “Or is it just with me, dirty girl?”

You felt a tickle in your stomach at the nickname and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Only…only with you.” You whimpered as best you could, more of a babble into the pillow.

“What'd you say?” He gave your hair another tug, this time harder, causing you to let out a deep mewl as he lifted your panting face from the pillow, which was wet from your tears. “Didn’t hear you, doll.”

Okay, you still couldn’t figure out how you had found yourself in this situation, saying yes more with actions than words. Hell, he hadn’t even started the kiss, although you could definitely tell he wanted to end it.

“I-I…” You stammered and tried to take a moment to think about your words, but as mentioned before, you couldn’t think of anything because of his incessant thrusts (in, out, in, out, in, out).

And the sounds that came from the union of both.

Oh, God, the sounds!

When a dog is drinking water… Yes… Exactly.

“C’mon, girl.” He growled, biting your earlobe. “I don’t like waiting.”

“Yes, sir!” You exclaimed and your eyes rolled back as your nails scratched the wood. “J-just for you!”

You heard him laugh, and never had a laugh seemed so lustful compared to that.

“Good answer. You deserve a reward.”

He slapped your buttock before moving that same hand in front of you, moving it up your body and giving your breasts another slap, one each, at least the ones you could count (you couldn’t even concentrate on that). Without stopping his attacks, which took you forward with each blow, he lowered his hand, lightly scratching your skin, until he reached your center, where he roughly rubbed your clitoris.

“Oh- Sh- Soldier Boy!” You screamed, your eyes widening.

Just an hour ago you hated this guy, his way of being was not something that attracted you in any other man (in fact it pushed you away), but Ben had something that made you fall on him as if it were a clumsy accident.

“Cum for me.” He muttered against the side of your neck. “Do it now so I can come down and give it a taste.”

That was more than enough. Your entire body tensed to the point where you firmly believed the belt would tear around your hands. You screamed his name (more like his superhero name, just like he had told you at the beginning) as your eyes rolled back and your mouth fell open.

And his attacks kept coming. Wet and sticky.

“Yeah… Yeah, that’s it.” He spanked you again, harder, causing you to moan, before grabbing your ass with both hands. “Knew you would fall to your knees, darlin’.” His thrusts became sloppy, his knees rubbing against the sheets and you nearly falling forward from his desperate grip. ”That’s what you are… You are a slut.” He said through clenched teeth. All you could do was take it, squirming slightly at the sensitivity. “A dirty little girl looking to get fucked hard, isn’t you?” He rested a hand on your head, sinking you back into the pillow. “Take it all!” He gave a deep moan and you felt his cum staining your walls, deep, very deep.

He gasped and let go of you. Your entire body fell on the bed, exhausted, somewhat sore, but in a beautiful way. It’s one of those moments where your body feels hot and sticky and you don’t want to move because you think you might make it worse. That’s how you felt, except the reason for this was not because of the summer weather or because of exercising (well, depending on what type of exercise we are talking about).

“That was good.” He snorted and ran a hand over his sweaty forehead. “Are you okay, baby?” He asked, but you knew his words probably hid amusement. The bastard was proud of how he had left you.

You sputtered into the pillow and heard him laugh lightly.

You closed your eyes, and just when you thought you would have time to rest and regain your strength, he easily turned you over and you opened your eyes again in surprise. For the first time you saw him after almost an hour having him behind you. He was sweaty and flushed across his chest. His dick wasn’t flaccid or hard, it was halfway, but Ben was surely more than capable of lifting it back up without any problem. It was creamy with your cum and had a white ring at its base.

His breathing had already returned to normal, which you associated with his powers, since you were still having trouble breathing.

“Lemme see.” He spread your legs with a firm hand and slapped your clit with two fingers, causing more of his cum to leak out of you. “I’m not gonna lie, doll, it’s a good fuckin’ view.”

He leaned forward, his hands holding your thighs tightly before giving your center a lick, making you hiss in hypersensitivity. He laughed against your pussy, your insides vibrating, and reached out a hand, undoing his belt and freeing your hands, which you caressed with your thumbs. They were red and you were sure you would get bruises.

“Now…” He buried his face between your legs again, causing you to moan and close your thighs around his head, which he roughly separated. He looked up at you, a smug smile on his face that you wanted to slap away. “Your reward, darlin’.”

@yjessi

[suzukiblu]

Day twelve of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim clears his throat and adjusts the collar of his shirt for honestly no good reason, and Kon keeps doing–Kon keeps beaming at him. There is just . . . there is just so, so much beaming happening right now, and it is very, very hard to concentrate on anything else. Or even, like, passingly think about anything else. 

Kon looks–he just looks happy, and Tim feels flustered and overwhelmed and vaguely nauseous, but like, in a good way, somehow, and . . . it’s a lot. Yeah. Just–Tim is currently feeling a lot of things, is all. Just . . . a lot. So much. 

Tim wonders if he could figure out a loophole to “legally” marry Kon despite the fact he’s fifteen and Kon is only maybe legally a person and/or citizen in the eyes of the government, because in that case even once Kon gets bored of Tim Drake he’ll be able to send him alimony payments or whatever, so– 

Actually, Tim realizes as he looks at Kon’s beaming face–at Kon’s beaming face beaming at him–and feels Kon’s hand still gripping his easily and comfortably, and Kon still leaned in closer than necessary even as they walk along the sidewalk together . . . 

Actually, he doesn’t feel like Kon’s getting bored with Tim Drake at all. 

. . . . . . huh. 

Weird, Tim thinks, a little too bewildered to figure out why he feels that way. 

“Oh, hey, that looks good,” Kon says, perking up a little more as he looks at something over Tim’s shoulder and points past him with his free hand. “We need a new dinner place, right? Wanna try it?” 

Tim looks where Kon’s pointing and frowns in confusion, because he’s pointing at a skate shop, of all things, not a restaurant or cafe or even a bar. 

“I haven’t touched a skateboard in months and also I have no idea what that has to do with dinner,” he admits, still frowning in confusion, and Kon laughs. 

“The food truck, babe,” he says with a snigger, pointing more emphatically. “You skateboard?” 

“Uh–sometimes, yeah,” Tim says, refocusing his eyes to realize–yeah, there is in fact a food truck there, parked just to the side of the skate shop. It’s very . . . yellow. Very, very brightly yellow. 

He can absolutely never, ever tell Bruce he missed something as obvious as a huge neon yellow food truck, Tim swears to himself, and then he actually registers what the truck says and . . . blinks, very slowly. 

“Is that the one-dollar grilled cheese truck?” he says. “I thought that was a meme or something.” 

“I mean, probably some bargain-basement content creator who thinks they're an influencer is running it as some publicity stunt shit, but one-dollar grilled cheese,” Kon says reasonably, except for how Tim cannot even imagine what about that statement would be “reasonable”. 

“You want to get dinner from the one-dollar grilled cheese truck?” he asks, a little incredulous about the idea. 

“We could get so many, babe,” Kon says with a gleeful grin. Tim, instinctively, is about to protest that they could get “so many” of whatever Kon wanted, in fact, and a truck that says both “cash only” and “no change given, figure out your own shit” in Impact font is literally just . . . what. What? But then he has a brief remembered flash of Dick saying there wasn’t any “one size dates all” and talking to him about circus tickets and tailoring dates to the other person's tastes and, well . . . 

“Um, sure?” he says, still vaguely bewildered. Kon needs more expensive tastes. He needs to get Kon more expensive tastes. And also maybe, like, better standards for a “nice” dinner. 

Kon beams at him again, giving his hand a squeeze, and Tim disassociates for a minute or two in an attempt to process any of that and entirely, entirely fails to. 

. . . alright, maybe some of Dick’s dating advice was helpful, he reflects. 

. . . . . . also to be fair, this also might be the Condiment King or some other D-lister about to start some shit, in which case it wouldn't hurt to throw a superhero at the problem anyway. 

And at least it's gonna be a lot of calories, right?

[waterlooletterwrb]

WRITE WITH ME!

I will start, and you can use the reblog to continue this story however you desire! The idea is that post by post we do a longer story (but if you wanna post your version somewhere else feel free to do so, you just remember to credit me!).

The One rule: You can't gender the Elf!Reader character.

If you need, add more warnings to your post!

OTP: Mairon (Sauron) x Elf!Reader

Universe: Rings of Power / Tolkien

Warnings: main character death, angst, blood, "you can fix him" plot;

Summary: You're the one who stole the Dark Lord's heart, yet you're dying in his arms.

A Forbidden Promise

"Don't go. I — I cannot follow you there. You can't go. You can't go." His voice was frenetic, desperate in a way the dark lord never sounded. How could he not be? You're dying in his arms, the only sweet touch, warmth, love he's ever known. And he will never be able to follow you to Mandos. "Please, I will never be able to go with you there, please."

His plea sounds like he wants to go tho. A begging, maybe the first time in more than two ages that Mairon of the Maiar actually regrets his choices. In you he found his perfection. And now he would lose it. Was that the vengeance of the Valar?

You raise your weak hand, resting it on this face. With your thumb you wipe one of the tears from his cheek. Even now he is as beautiful as the first time you saw each other.

"I — I will come back. For you, I will come back." Your voice is not much more than an whisper. Yet, somehow you make a disbelieving smile appears on his lips.

"Who would give up paradise for me? For Sauron?" The name disgust you as much as it disgust him, and your face probably shows it because he sighs. "If you're leaving me, at least leave saying the truth. It's too... cruel to say it. For I never hoped before."

That makes you give him a pity sad smile. Ignoring the pain, you do everything you can to raise yourself. He holds you tighter, his warmth is what you need to concentrate even when your vision starts to fade.

"Mairon, endanya¹. Hear the last words of the one who stole your heart." This make you see for one last time the sweet smile that he only ever directed to you. "As I promised once, I will never lie to you."

He presses his forehead against yours. For the last time you breathe the same air. "So I dare to command you, Mairon or whatever name you desire to hear now: learn to hope." I little cry escapes your lips, and you feel his hands tremble where he holds you, for a moment you lose your mind and all you can hear is the blood dripping. It's a shame, his always beautiful tunics will forever be stained within your blood now.

Even so, he won't stop holding you. So you do everything you can to reassure him again. He needs to understand, he must believe.

"Learn to hope." You mumble. "For I shall return to you."

You no longer can see or feel, your hand falling from his face is the first sign you went to the undying lands. But you were right. And Mairon, Sauron, does not let you go. He holds you tightly, in a crying so long it's impossible to believe that that destroyed and devastated being was once Morgoth's heir.

The grief is too much and, when he finally let you, there's no one to hear but the wind while he whispers:

"I — I'm yours to command, endanya. I will hear whatever name you call me. I will do whatever you wish. I will hope — I will hope for you."

A promise and a threat. Because in his soul he knows; you were the only one that could stop what's coming for Middle Earth. You were the only one that could stop him.

So now even the wind hopes. You need to return.

••••••••••••••••

Endanya¹ = if i did the word correctly it should be quenya for "my love/my soul", but in a deeper way of calling the one you love "your everything". In my mind, when Sauron says it he is also telling that the reader is his light.

[revelboo]

I literally can't get enough of your writing like I need it like oxygen at this point 🙌 I am not above begging for more of Everything is alright or Over it now

My heart is literally hurting for Star because he genuinely didn't know, and he finally is starting to be vulnerable, and now he knows it's not going to last no matter what. And the inner turmoil of the reader being so torn between him and Soundwave? Wanting both but not being able to hurt Star after he put everything at risk?? It's so good but it hurts my heart 😭😭

And Jazz finally getting someone who would listen to his feelings and get to know the real him under all his masks?? The poor guy needs that so bad, and he's finally opening up (even if she can't understand what he's saying)

All in all, your writing is amazing, and you are literally amazing ✨️✨️✨️

Thank you! I have a lot of fun overthinking why the characters act the way they do and trying to get into their heads

Over It Now Pt 11

IDW Jazz x Reader

• “You could just let me take you,” he says as he watches you lock the door and do an awkward shuffle to put the keys away while trying to not drop one of your crutches in the process. Leaving him for work again. Wanting to help, but also knowing exactly how stubborn you are as you eye the stairs off your porch. He’d also figured out forgiveness was much easier to ask for than permission, reaching to lift you in his servos and carefully set you down in the driveway crutches and all bypassing the steps and then backing up to fall forward into his alt mode.

• Heart racing at being picked up unexpectedly, you warm watching his antics. Because he knows you struggle with the steps and he’d saved you from dealing with them when he didn’t have to. “We both know you have better things to do than chauffeur me around,” you say, trying not to laugh when he opens the driver’s side door and wags it back and forth in invitation.

• “Come for a ride, doll. I’ll behave.” Door still open, he fully expects you to walk past him to your own ugly car, so it’s a surprise when you slide in the driver’s seat and awkwardly lean the crutches in the passenger side. And then you’re right there and he’s more aware of you this way somehow than when he’s held you in his servos. You’re warm against him, soft hands brushing the steering wheel hesitantly as if not sure if it’s okay and he can smell your soap, your shampoo, you. “Alright,” he murmurs more to himself than to you, because it’s a small thing, but you’re entrusting yourself to him. And that means so much.

• There’s no way to not overthink that you’re sitting inside Jazz and it’s weird. You end up folding your hands in your lap so you don’t touch anything you shouldn’t. Inhaling as the shifter moves on its own and then the wheel spins as he reverses. “Doll, you’re going to have to at least pretend to drive,” he laughs and he’s right. Other drivers might notice you’re just sitting there so you just barely touch your palms to the wheel, letting it move freely against your skin.

• Primus, you’re precious. Eyes darting all over his interior, trying so hard not to touch anything. “What do you do normally? I mean a phantom car driving itself has to freak people out,” you mumble, shifting against him as he turns onto the road, wheels humming. Liking the feel of having you there, surrounded by him and safe, it takes a moment to actually understand your question. It’s not nearly the same as holding you in his hands, but still comforting to him that you’re there with him. It doesn’t take a lot of energy, but he does have to concentrate to create a holomatter avatar in the passenger side seat to show you what he normally does, not bothering to make it solid at all since your crutches are embedded in the avatar’s legs and torso and your head turns as it appears. He’s not sure what he expected, but it’s definitely not for you to scream and throw yourself against the inside of his door.

• “It’s me. It’s an avatar,” the glitchy thing in the passenger seat is saying in Jazz’s voice, holding up big hands as you nearly have a heart attack. “Doll, it’s okay. Sorry, I just-frag.” And the human shaped thing flickers and fades, leaving your heart hammering against your ribs. You’re still plastered to the door, hands curled into fists. “Were you going to punch me?” Yes. You absolutely were, because it had just been there so suddenly, a fixed grin on a fake looking face that was staring right at you, Eyes closing you lean your forehead against the cool glass of the driver’s side window and try to calm down and instead start laughing. Covering your face with your hands as he vents at you in exasperation, blowing warm air across your skin and you realize he’s never asked where you work, an address or anything. So how does he know where to take you? Has he been following you?

Previous

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 9 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Jinwoo had been mulling over a simple, yet increasingly puzzling question: How does one even contact you?

Despite weeks of fighting together, not once had he taken the initiative to reach out. The strange thing? You two hadn’t even exchanged numbers. You either planned your next raid before parting ways, or—more recently—you would simply show up because of your own schedule, or a butterfly of yours would come to him first.

The answer came to him, in a way that felt both obvious and absurd. Your butterflies.

Jinwoo wasn’t one to wait idly for answers, so he decided to test his theory. Concentrating on the familiar presence of your aura, he extended his hand, replicating that feeling in his mind. Moments later, one of your butterflies—the one that often remained hidden nearby, perhaps acting as your eyes—fluttered into view, landing lightly on his open palm.

Its wings faltered slightly, as if in acknowledgment.

This might actually work.

Closing his eyes, Jinwoo focused on the connection he had felt before, the distinct feeling of the red butterfly communicating with him.

Take me to her.

He didn’t know if it would respond, but soon enough, the butterfly took off, guiding him through the city.

---

He found you in the Hunter’s Market, haggling with a merchant. You were engaged in a rather intense back-and-forth, and judging by the merchant’s begrudging look, you were winning. In your hands, Jinwoo caught sight of what looked like a dormant magic beast egg, likely the reason for the negotiation.

"You're late."

You greeted him without even turning around, continuing to inspect the wares. Jinwoo raised an eyebrow. Not even a flicker of surprise from you. It was becoming clear that not much could catch you off guard.

By now, he was getting used to your way of doing things. "I need to talk to you."

There was an unspoken understanding between you that this wasn’t a conversation for public ears.

As you continued to browse the market, you hummed in acknowledgment. "I need to talk to you about some things too. Let’s continue this conversation in my domain. I’ll be done here in a few."

Jinwoo froze, staring at your back in confusion.

“Domain?"

"Dungeon," you corrected nonchalantly, still focused on the items displayed before you, your words casual as if you were discussing the weather.

Jinwoo’s brain paused for a moment.

"You own a dungeon?"

At that, you paused, a beat of silence passing before you turned toward him with a curious tilt of your head. "Did I never mention it before?"

"..."

"Ah."

For a split second, Jinwoo had the very distinct and rare urge to pinch your cheek. But instead, he just stared, half-amused, half-incredulous. You owned a dungeon, and you were mentioning it in the most off-handed way possible.

Of course, you would be the kind of person to forget to bring up owning something like that.

And just like that, another piece of the puzzle that was you fell into place, though Jinwoo knew he had only barely scratched the surface.

---

Jinwoo couldn't help but feel a rising sense of disbelief as he followed you into the alley. He had barely come to terms with the revelation that you owned a dungeon. Even now, he had to force himself to stop asking questions before they overwhelmed him.

He kept telling himself, Stay calm. Just get to a private place. Ask your questions there.

But, of course, fate had other plans.

As if summoned by his very thoughts, a glowing portal materialized in front of them with a soft hum. Jinwoo froze mid-step, his eyes widening. The gate was far smaller than the typical ones he had encountered, just big enough to fit a full-grown adult comfortably—yet there was no mistaking it for anything but a dungeon gate. The shimmering silver-white wisps that surrounded it were unlike any other, almost blending with rainbow-like accents at the edges. It looked... strange, subdued compared to the usual ethereal blues and reds, but somehow still powerful.

It was just his luck.

Jinwoo had been trying to push the thousand and one questions flooding his mind to the back of his thoughts, but now, they came rushing back in full force. He glanced at you, but you didn’t even seem phased by the sudden appearance of the portal. Instead, you waved him forward, as if portals and dungeons appeared in alleyways every day.

He hesitated for a split second but, deciding it was better to follow your lead than be left behind in confusion, he stepped forward, his senses alert. The instant he crossed the threshold of the gate, everything seemed to shift. The world around him blurred for a second before stabilizing again, and he found himself standing in a vast open temple-like structure.

It was nothing like the harsh, ominous dungeons he’d been to before.

The structure was grand, with high ceilings and pillars that seemed to stretch endlessly upwards. The atmosphere had an air of serenity to it, something so starkly different from what he expected when entering a dungeon. But it didn’t end there. As he followed you forward, stepping through what looked like the entrance of a colossal, ancient temple, Jinwoo’s gaze was drawn outward.

The view beyond the floating temple was breathtaking.

The sight was nothing short of a dreamscape. Lush forests and vast gardens stretched far beyond what the eye could see. Gentle rivers meandered through valleys, their sparkling waters catching the sunlight. Towering, misty mountains loomed in the distance, and there were labyrinthine paths that seemed to lead into hidden areas, mysterious domed structures rising proudly in the distance. The land appeared to have been untouched by time, ancient and majestic in its quiet beauty.

It felt more like a paradise than any dungeon Jinwoo had ever seen.

This is a dungeon?

"I know, right?" you spoke, breaking his thoughts, your voice playful. "Trust me, the first time I got here, I thought I was dead and that this was paradise."

Jinwoo’s eyes flicked to you in surprise.

But you continued walking calmly ahead without a glance back, seeming completely at ease, at home.

This place, this dungeon, was a paradox. It was both beautiful and dangerous, serene and lethal. As you moved forward, he couldn’t help but make comparisons. It reminded him of the butterflies—so ethereal, so delicate, yet with a deadly bite.

Like you, Jinwoo realized.

As if sensing his thoughts, you shot him a brief glance over your shoulder. Your eyes caught his for a moment before you turned back ahead, leading him forward through the landscape. Jinwoo shook his head, his thoughts momentarily swirling. But something made him froze in his steps.

He watched you from behind, the soft fluttering of butterflies surrounding you, some of them trailing closely behind, others flitting about aimlessly.

One butterfly, the familiar red one, fluttered close to you and landed delicately on your finger. You brought it up to your lips and kissed it gently, a soft, quiet action that felt impossibly tender.

Divine.

Jinwoo couldn’t help but wonder again, and for some reason, his pulse quickened. But, before he could dwell too much on his absurd thoughts, he shook his head and hurried to catch up with you.

---

The two of you continued walking until you reached a beautiful outdoor gazebo. The serene atmosphere of the garden, complete with a quiet pond surrounded by vibrant flowers, made it feel just like the rest of this space shouldn’t had been, a paradise. The soft trickle of water from nearby waterfalls added to the peaceful ambiance. On the table in front of the gazebo, there was tea and snacks laid out, ready for the conversation he knew he had to have with you.

Jinwoo sat down across from you, his mind buzzing with questions. He had so many things he wanted to know, and yet, he wasn’t sure where to start.

You, on the other hand, took a sip of your tea, completely at ease, before setting it down. You studied him quietly for a moment, perhaps waiting for him to speak first.

It took a moment, but Jinwoo finally asked, "This place... this dungeon. How did you come to own it?"

You sighed, leaning back in your chair, looking out over the garden for a moment as if gathering your thoughts. "Ah, yes. The story of how I got this place. It’s not simple, but I suppose I owe you an explanation."

You paused, seeming to gather yourself. "The truth is, this dungeon was here long before I ever arrived. In fact, I... was lost here when I was a child."

Jinwoo blinked, surprised. You—lost?

You continued, seemingly unfazed by his reaction. "I was barely a teen when I stumbled into it. The Trial System... it didn’t exactly help me, if you know what I mean. But it gave me a challenge I couldn’t ignore. To leave this place, I had to defeat the dungeon’s guardians."

Guardians? Bosses? Multiple?

You caught his gaze, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if that was a question. Jinwoo didn’t say anything, but his mind whirled. It was clear that this place wasn’t like any other dungeon he’d ever encountered.

"So, how did you own it?" he asked, his voice quieter now, as if trying to make sense of this all.

“The Trial System gave it to me as a... reward, I guess,” you said, a faint smile playing on your lips. "It’s mine now, in every sense of the word. And because I own it, I can summon it whenever I need to. I can open a portal to it and leave at will." You looked at him, eyes gleaming. "That’s how I was able to summon that gate earlier. It’s a... special gift."

Jinwoo absorbed the information, slowly piecing it together. "So, you can teleport anywhere?”

“Not exactly, I need to have a clear picture of where I want to go." You shrugged nonchalantly.

Jinwoo exhaled sharply, his thoughts swirling. As much as he wanted to ask more—wanted to demand answers—he felt something within him pull him back. This was your secret to reveal, in your own time.

So, instead of questioning you further, he allowed himself a moment of quiet contemplation. You seemed to know what he was thinking. With a soft smile, you raised your cup again and said, "I don’t mind sharing more, Jinwoo. But just know, some things are better left unsaid.”

Jinwoo nodded, his gaze lingering on you. He would get the answers he was looking for, one way or another. But for now, he would have to trust you—because there was no other choice.

---

Jinwoo stared at you, completely flabbergasted, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You have to what now?"

You sighed, sinking a bit deeper into the seat of the gazebo, as if this whole conversation were some kind of exhausting memory you'd rather not dig up. "I have to level up my skills manually. Yes. Manually."

You could almost see the gears turning in his head as he tried to wrap his mind around it. "Wait, so… no shortcuts? No automatic leveling?"

"None." You let out a dramatic groan, leaning back and stretching your arms out. "The system basically made me work my way up through blood, sweat, and endless labor. You’d think the trial version would offer at least some quality-of-life updates, but nope. If I wanted to get better at farming, I had to actually go out and till the fields. If I wanted to improve cooking… yeah, let’s just say that was a nightmare."

Jinwoo blinked, half in shock, half in amusement. "Wait… so, all those skills that the system grants—crafting, mining, cooking—you had to actually do all those things?"

"Yep," you replied, with a roll of your eyes. "No instant boosts for me. While you get to succeed or fail with crafting based on your intelligence stat, I actually had to sit down and grind every skill point myself. And, of course, I started off just as badly as you’d expect.”

He tried to picture it and stifled a laugh. "So you’re telling me… you burned a boiled egg?”

"Listen," you huffed, giving him an exasperated look. "It was the lowest-level cooking skill, okay? Apparently, it was so low that I couldn't even be trusted to make something as simple as a boiled egg. Somehow, it just… burned." You buried your face in your hands, grumbling, "It’s still a mystery to me how boiling water and an egg turned into charcoal. But that was my life. Trial version for the win."

Jinwoo couldn’t hold back his laugh anymore, and the sound of it filled the air, rich and full of genuine amusement. "You? Burning an egg? You?"

"Hey, don’t laugh! It’s not funny," you protested and pouted at him. "Let’s just say I made my fair share of… tragic cooking attempts before my skill level got high enough to handle basic meals without a disaster."

You watched him try to stifle his laughter, but your own lips twitched, betraying a smile as well. "And it wasn’t just cooking," you added. "Farming was another story. I didn’t even know the basics—soil preparation, crop rotation, pest control. Do you have any idea how long it took me to produce anything that wasn't... wilted? Even mining was brutal. There I was, chipping away with an old pickaxe for hours just to get a sliver of ore."

He shook his head, still grinning. "Looks like you went through your own personal training arc as well."

"Of course I do." you agreed with a snort. "If the system hadn’t taken feedback from me eventually, you’d be the one cursing it out every time you tried to do something simple. But yeah, thankfully, the system decided to cut you a break. Guess my suffering counted for something, after all."

You straightened in your seat and took a sip of your tea, a satisfied smirk crossing your face. "But at least, once I got a skill to a decent level, it stayed there. Permanent. I don’t have to touch a frying pan for years, and the skill level’s still as good as ever. And the skills I invested in heavily—those have even broader effects."

Jinwoo’s brow furrowed, curious now. "Broader effects?"

You nodded, glancing up thoughtfully as if reliving memories. "Take my language skill, for example. I leveled it up while studying Monster Tongue, which was excruciating at first. But once I maxed out that skill, learning other languages was a breeze. The system gave me a boost, kind of like an automatic enhancement for anything similar. If I tried learning another language now, it’d be easy compared to when I first started out.”

He gave a low whistle. "So basically, the more you leveled up, the easier it became to learn things related to that skill?"

"Exactly." You placed your cup back on the saucer with a gentle clink. "Though there’s a catch. Back then, whenever the system went through an update, some skills would get expanded. The cap would get set higher, and I’d have to grind all over again to max them out."

You gave him a look of exasperation. "Imagine maxing out a skill only for the system to update and say, 'Hey, you can go up to Level 50 now instead of 30!' That happened so many times, I lost count."

Jinwoo leaned back, his expression growing more serious. "So… what happens now? Are you stuck with your current stats forever?"

You took a slow breath, letting the question sink in before nodding. "That’s exactly it. Since the trial stage ended when you became the player, there haven’t been any more updates. My levels, skills, and stats… they’re frozen as they are. I can’t adjust my stats, I can’t level anything up, that’s why I don’t get EXP anymore. It’s like I’m in a kind of… stasis."

He was silent for a moment, digesting the weight of that statement. It was strange to think that someone with as much knowledge and power as you would be… limited.

"I still have everything I gained during the trial, of course," you continued, your tone turning thoughtful as you gazed out over the garden. "But it’s a strange feeling, knowing that I’ll never improve again. All my stats, skills, and levels are frozen in time. There’s no ‘growth’ anymore—not like what you have."

Jinwoo frowned. "And that doesn’t bother you?"

You shrugged, meeting his eyes again. "It did, at first. But after a while, I came to terms with it. I put in the effort back then, and I reaped the rewards. Sure, I miss the feeling of progress, of leveling up. But the fact that you’re the player now means the system’s finished with me." You managed a smile, though it was a bit bittersweet.

He looked at you, quiet for a moment, perhaps feeling a hint of the sacrifice you'd made just for the sake of his journey.

"So now," you said, breaking the silence with a brighter tone, "I’m basically a living relic of the trial version, here to help you navigate the system’s quirks."

Jinwoo smirked at that. "The legendary burnt-egg chef, my official guide through the system."

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "That title better not stick." Then, with a playful nudge of your cup in his direction, you raised an eyebrow. "And hey, if I’m going to help you, maybe you could use a few pointers. Starting with, oh, I don’t know… naming tips? You’re downright horrible at that."

The two of you shared a look, both of you smiling. And despite the strange circumstances, Jinwoo knew he was glad to have you by his side, guiding him, burnt eggs and all.

[Oh, he’ll not let that go, will he?]

“And whose fault do you think that is?”

---

"The meals with healing properties, the intricate mana stones, and how your butterflies can affect my daggers' stats... So that's why..." Jinwoo trailed off, connecting the dots.

You nodded, munching on a biscuit. "Mhm, pretty much. Since I have to actually *learn* the fundamentals of each skill, I can manipulate and craft related items more easily. It makes altering, replicating, or even making things from scratch a lot more natural."

You paused, reflecting for a moment before continuing, "It’s a blessing that the last system update allowed me to max out certain skills to the point where I can do these things in reality without relying solely on the system."

You brushed the crumbs from your fingers and leaned back, satisfied. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to tell you. Now, what is it you wanted to say?"

Jinwoo took a deep breath, locking eyes with you. "Join me for a week."

"...Eh?"

Without a word, he held up an item—a key.

<Castle Door Key>.

It was the entry to the Demon Castle, the S-rank dungeon created by the system itself.

"There’s no rule saying I can’t bring someone with me. You don’t gain any more experience, so there’s nothing for me to lose. But you might get materials you won’t find anywhere else, not even in the hunter's market—"

"I refuse."

Jinwoo blinked, surprised. "What?"

You looked away, your mind racing. The offer was tempting—you had several experiments in mind, but there was too much at stake. There were bigger forces at play—the plot, the system's interference, and Jinwoo's crucial development. You couldn’t afford to be too involved in this one. You needed a good excuse, something he would believe.

"Jinwoo," you began, "you’re aware of my powers' limitations, right?"

"What does that have to do with—"

"Listen." Your voice, suddenly sharp, cut through the air, and Jinwoo froze.

For the first time, Jinwoo felt uneasy, confused, like he had said something wrong. He didn’t like the shift in your demeanor, especially when it was directed at him.

"'Demon' Castle," you continued, your tone softer but firm, "just by the name alone, we can assume the majority, if not half, of enemies there will be undead."

"..."

"My powers thrive off life. In an essentially ‘dead’ land, I’ll be at a severe disadvantage—"

"I'll protect you."

"And that’s exactly the problem. I’ll be a deadweight."

"Just focus on supporting me and my shadows."

You stared at him, the determination in his eyes unwavering. He was serious—dead serious.

You rubbed your temples, feeling a headache coming on. "You’re really persistent."

"I know," he replied, not once backing down.

You exhaled, resigned. Deep down, you knew that continuing to refuse him would lead to something far more troublesome. There was no winning against Jinwoo when he was this determined. "Alright," you finally said, "I’ll join you. But if things go south, you have to trust me to pull back. Understood?"

As if you could leave him, the nagging thought echoed in your mind.

Jinwoo’s gaze softened slightly, and a small, rare smile crept onto his lips. "Understood."

You only hoped that the system wouldn’t interfere or cause any unexpected complications this time. But one question remained: why was Jinwoo so insistent on bringing you along, despite the risks?

Unbeknownst to you, Jinwoo was asking himself the same thing. But it was something he wasn’t quite ready to admit—not to you, and perhaps not even to himself.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [023/10/2024] -

The middle part of this, the convo between Jinwoo and (Name) feels a bit weird, so I apologize for the OOC-ness. I'll come back to this later.

[julymusings]

Jason Todd x South Asian!Reader HCs

requested | reader is fem, i tried to keep it non-specific so it applies to the whole region, not just india, hopefully i succeeded😬

i looooved writing this it was so much fun. drop an ask with anything else you want to see!!

When you show him Bollywood movies, at first he’s like “Why are these so damn long?” But watches them anyway because you’re so excited to show him

He obviously sobs at K3G (because he has daddy AND big brother issues)

But his favorite is probably 3 Idiots or Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (he just seems like the type to looove an underdog story am I right)

Since Jason likes cooking, he’s learning how to make all your favorite foods. He’s eaten a lot of Indian food before (duh, it’s New Jersey), so he’s familiar with the flavors and spices, but some dishes are easier than others. He tries to make dosa after you mentioned liking it but it does not go well

He’s trying so hard to impress you but they all keep breaking😭 and the ones that don’t break come out burnt. When he finally relents and lets you help him, you hold his hand and guide him to make the proper movements; pouring the batter, spreading it into a circle, and gently flipping it so it doesn’t break

He loves chai, and is always experimenting with different recipes and flavors and asking you to test them

You're taking him to the Indian market so often, by the end of the month he knows the names for all the vegetables and spices in your language and where to find them

He thinks you with mehendi/henna is the most attractive thing ever

Your friend’s getting married? Of course he’ll feed you while your mehendi’s drying, you don't even have to ask

When it's still fresh and at its darkest color he's actually going batshit insane (pun intended); he loves interlacing your fingers together and seeing the contrast of your dark, decorated fingers against his large, strong ones. His phone background is a selfie of you guys where your faces are squished side-by-side and one of your mehendi'd hands is cupping his cheek

And when you're on top of him, the sight of your adorned hands pressed flat against his bare chest, flushed and heaving...he thinks it belongs in a museum

He just loves doing little acts of service; one day you’re complaining offhandedly to him about how the price of eyebrow threading keeps going up, a week later you’ve forgotten all about it but he’s like “I learned how to thread your eyebrows”

He figured it would be easy enough, and as someone who’s life often depends on steady, surgical aim and precision, it is

Roy’s walking around looking messed up as fuck for a couple weeks but that’s beside the point because he’s got the hang of it now 

When it comes to putting on a sari, he'll put the pins in the hard to reach places if you ask, but for the most part he just loves watching you put it on. he thinks it's so cute the way you scrunch your face in focus as you make the folds and tuck in the fabric with such concentration (Jason Todd domesticity agenda)

One night you're getting dressed up for some party, but no matter what you do and how many times you take it off and try to re-drape it, it just won't come out good and you get so frustrated and teary-eyed that he has to intervene

He makes you take a break, brings you a snack, and kisses you until you feel better, and then he pulls up a youtube video to do it for you— but he can't do it either😭

So you both decide to give up and you wear a lehenga instead

It’s a fairly modest one, and even though he's seen you wearing more-revealing clothes (and none at all), he's going crazy over that one inch sliver of exposed skin on your midriff

He already loves seeing you dressed up in traditional wear but if you put jasmine flowers in your hair with it??? The fragrance coming from you makes him feral. It lingers in your hair for a couple days and he can’t stop following you around and sniffing you LMAO

The first time you get a kurta for him, it’s actually impossible to find one that fits because he’s so big and buff (drool) so you just end up buying the fabric and getting it custom stitched

There's only a few scraps of the fabric left and you get the wonderful idea of braiding the scraps into a bracelet so you have something to match with him and it makes him go crazy

Early on in your relationship, you’re a little afraid to have oil in your hair in front of him because you’re worried he’ll think the smell is too strong

Jason is probably familiar with the practice of hair oiling from his time with Talia (but you don’t know that yet)

He actually LOVES when you oil your hair around him. Just something about him being the only one who gets to see you when you’re comfy and unready is so intimate to him and makes him feel so special and trusted and loved🥹

Time for some of my physical touch x touch starved!Jason propaganda

After a particularly difficult night of patrolling, he comes to you stressed and anxious and unsure what to do with himself. So you make him sit on the floor in front of your bed, warm up some of the oil, and seat yourself on the edge of the mattress. He leans back against your legs and you massage the warm oil into his scalp. It feels heavenly. You’re using the perfect amount of pressure, hitting all the right spots, and it feels so good he wants to cry. Later, when you pull him into the shower to shampoo it out, he actually does cry, hoping the water falling from the shower head hides the tears (it doesn’t, and it breaks your heart)

(If you were raised Hindu) I think he'd be very interested in the belief in reincarnation, past & future lives, oneness with the universe, etc...it might help him make some sense of his coming back

You bring mediation into his life, and that also really helps him

You wear Kajal/kohl/surma on your eyes, and whenever he’s looking especially good, or before he goes out as red hood, you smudge some onto your finger and put a mark behind his ear, just to be safe (it’s believed to deflect jealousy/bad intentions from others) (yes I’m superstitious sue me)

Or you just tie a black thread around his ankle

When you first explain to him that you want him to wear a black thread around his ankle because of a superstition, he thinks you’re joking. He can’t believe you actually believe in that 

But he can’t say no to you and he secretly likes that you also have one so it feels like you’re matching 

He considers it a good luck charm, not because he believes the superstition but because it’s from you

omg thank you for all the love on these<3 dick's will be posted tomorrow

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Helo there! What do you think about Harry's and Neville's friendship? And the aspect of both of them possibily being the chosen one?

I like Neville and his dynamic with Harry, even if I don't think they're that close.

Like, Harry is more of a mentor for Neville with the DA rather than a friend who's a peer.

in fact, he barely spoke during D.A. meetings anymore, but worked relentlessly on every new jinx and countercurse Harry taught them, his plump face screwed up in concentration, apparently indifferent to injuries or accidents, working harder than anyone else in the room. He was improving so fast it was quite unnerving and when Harry taught them the Shield Charm, a means of deflecting minor jinxes so that they rebounded upon the attacker, only Hermione mastered the charm faster than Neville.

(OotP)

And I think Neville keeps looking up to him as a symbol and a leader less than as a person.

Nevertheless, his battered visage shone with happiness as he let go of Hermione and said again, “I knew you’d come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!”

(DH)

Neville kinda idolizes Harry in a way.

That's why I don't think they are particularly close, but they do care about each other. Harry feels a bit sorry for Neville and a little protective over him:

A hatred such as he had never known before was coursing through Harry like poison. He could see Black laughing at him through the darkness, as though somebody had pasted the picture from the album over his eyes. He watched, as though somebody was playing him a piece of film, Sirius Black blasting Peter Pettigrew (who resembled Neville Longbottom) into a thousand pieces.

(PoA)

“Doesn’t matter. They don’t want to spill too much pure blood, so they’ll torture us a bit if we’re mouthy but they won’t actually kill us.” Harry did not know what was worse, the things that Neville was saying or the matter-of-fact tone in which he said them.

(DH)

And he does trust Neville a lot. Both Harry and Neville have full faith in each other which I really like:

Dumbledore had died knowing that three people still knew about the Horcruxes; now Neville will take Harry’s place. There would still be three in the secret. “Just in case they’re—busy—and you get the chance—” “Kill the snake?” “Kill the snake,” Harry repeated. “All right, Harry, You’re okay, are you?” “I’m fine. Thanks, Neville.” But Neville seized his wrist as Harry made to move on. “We’re all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?” “Yeah, I—” The suffocating feeling extinguished the end of the sentence; he could not go on. Neville did not seem to find it strange. He patted Harry on the shoulder, released him, and walked away to look for more bodies.

(DH)

They have a sort of quiet understanding and while their friendship isn't super close, they do care about each other and like each other. They could've probably been good friends if they were given the chance to interact more. (That's another reason why I love DADA professor Harry with Herbology professor Neville to give them that chance)

Their dynamic, if they were to get closer, kinda reminds me of an older brother & a younger brother due to how much Neville looks up to Harry and how Harry is protective over Neville.

As for both of them being the Chosen One, well, they aren't both the Chosen One. Only Harry was Chosen at the end of the day. But, I think that by the end, Neville is a truer Gryffindor than Harry.

In book 7 Harry failed to retrieve the Sword of Gryffindor:

When Ron offered the sword, however, Harry shook his head. “No, you should do it.” “Me?” said Ron, looking shocked. “Why?” “Because you got the sword out of the pool. I think it’s supposed to be you.” He was not being kind or generous. As certainly as he had known that the doe was benign, he knew that Ron had to be the one to wield the sword. Dumbledore had at least taught Harry something about certain kinds of magic, of the incalculable power of certain acts

(DH)

The sword that only appears to a Gryffindor in need:

What was it, Harry asked himself (walking again), that Dumbledore had told him the last time he had retrieved the sword? Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat. And what were the qualities that defined a Gryffindor? A small voice inside Harry’s head answered him: Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart.

(DH)

rejected Harry, but embraced Neville:

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle—

(DH)

Add to that Harry's use of Unforgivables in book 7, and I feel like Harry was supposed to embrace his Slytherin characteristics in this book as a theme of the narrative, you know? Like the rejection from the sword and Harry needing to be more cunning than ever should've been this sort of closure. Of Harry's understanding, not all Slytherins are evil and he himself is a bit of a Slytherin and embracing it. It would've worked so well with Snape's story and the themes of the book, truly a missed opportunity to not make this idea of Harry finally saying "yes Slytherin" instead of "not Slytherin", and embracing the fact he is a bit of a Slytherin while Neville, who was terrified to be in Gryffindor, who asked the hat to place him someplace else, embraced being a Gryffindor fully. They have kind of small parallel barley-there arcs in a way that I found interesting in my current reread of Deathly Hallows. Like, I feel there was an intention there, as Harry does feel he is less of a Gryffindor throughout this book, even though he still is, I'm talking about his feelings on the matter.

I think this idea is there, just not as explored as I would've liked it. It is just interesting that the Sword of Gryffindor chose Neville as the true Gryffindor but rejected Harry who is the Chosen One because he was chosen by the Heir of Slytherin. Idk, I feel like there is something there.

[ghostly--photography]

Homesick for the Home We Made| A. Fantilli

Summary: Adam  and Y/N have been inseparable since their college days at UMich,  bound by a love that grew through the late nights, laughter, and unwavering support. Now, as Adam begins his professional hockey career with the Columbus Blue Jackets, their relationship faces new trials. From navigating the pressures of the NHL, the relentless spotlight, and the strain of long-distance travel, to coping with injuries and doubts, they fight to stay connected amidst the demands of his rising fame.

Word Count: 8986

University of Michigan, 2022

The nights they spent in the library became their little ritual, a comforting constant amid their busy college lives. Adam’s schedule was intense, between morning practices, back-to-back classes, and late-night studying, yet he’d always make time to meet her there, settling into their usual corner by the large window that overlooked campus. Tonight, like every night, he’d saved her a seat, draping his hoodie over the chair beside him so she’d know he was waiting.

When she arrived, a warm feeling washed over her, seeing him so intently focused, tapping a pen against his notebook. His brow was furrowed in concentration, jaw set in that familiar way, yet the moment he saw her, his face softened, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, you,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders as she sat down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Missed you.”

She laughed, leaning into his side. “We were together this morning. You really missed me already?”

“More than you know,” he murmured, squeezing her shoulder. There was always something about him—a quiet warmth and sweetness that made her feel like she was the only thing in his world, even when he was balancing a million different pressures. He set his pen down, focusing his attention entirely on her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

They worked side by side for a while, falling into the easy rhythm they had developed over the months, sharing notes and sneaking little glances at each other. Occasionally, Adam would steal a quick kiss, his smile making her heart skip. It was these little moments that made her realize just how deeply she had fallen for him—the quiet understanding, the silent support, the shared smiles.

As they walked back to his dorm under the glow of the campus streetlights, a comfortable silence fell between them. The autumn air was crisp, and she felt Adam’s fingers tighten around hers, as if grounding her in that moment.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping them both. She turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his gaze. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

She felt her heartbeat quicken as he looked at her, the seriousness in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, glancing down before meeting her gaze again. “Y/N, I know we’re both young, and we don’t have everything figured out, but…I know I want this. I know I want you, in my life, no matter what.”

His words were a revelation, each one grounding her in a reality she’d hoped for but hadn’t dared to expect. She looked up at him, a soft smile breaking across her face as she felt a surge of affection. “Adam, I feel the same way,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “You mean everything to me.”

He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a hug that felt like a promise. She could feel his heartbeat against her, steady and reassuring. After a moment, he pulled back, looking down at her with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“Let’s go inside,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability.

As soon as they closed the door, Adam’s hands found her waist, pulling her into a kiss that was soft at first but grew with an intensity neither of them could ignore. His hands traveled up her sides, sending a thrill through her, and she felt herself melt into him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve never been more sure.”

In that quiet room, they explored each other, savoring every touch, every kiss, as if they were making a silent promise to be there, to love each other no matter what life would throw at them. They moved together in a way that felt effortless, their bodies communicating a desire and trust that words could never capture. And when they finally lay side by side, wrapped in each other’s arms, she knew this was a memory she would carry with her always.

The room was filled with the quiet hum of their breathing as they drifted into sleep, the campus lights casting a warm glow through the window. Adam held her close, his fingers tracing light circles along her back as she rested her head on his chest.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerable hope.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Summer 2023, NHL Draft Day

The months flew by, and suddenly, it was draft season. Adam’s nerves were palpable, but he tried to hide them behind his usual smile, his arms wrapped around her as they waited for his name to be called. The night was electric with excitement, but beneath it, she could feel his tension, the anticipation of everything they had worked toward coming down to this single moment.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, squeezing his hand. She could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and it made her heart ache.

He nodded, flashing her a smile. “Yeah, just…a lot of pressure,” he admitted, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a calming rhythm. “But having you here…that makes all the difference.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently, trying to convey every ounce of love and belief she had in him. “You’ve got this. No matter where you go, you’re going to do incredible things.”

The moment his name was called, the room erupted into applause. She watched him, pride swelling in her chest as he hugged his family and friends, giving her a last, lingering look before making his way to the stage. It was a look that said everything he couldn’t put into words—a promise, a silent thank you, a reminder that she was part of this journey with him.

As the night wound down and the crowd thinned, Adam pulled her aside, his expression turning serious. They found a quiet corner, away from the noise, the celebration, and he took her hands, looking down at them as if collecting his thoughts.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he began, his voice soft, laced with a nervous vulnerability. “But I don’t want to do this without you.”

Her breath hitched as she realized the weight of his words, the unspoken question hanging between them.

“Adam,” she said, her voice shaking slightly, “are you saying…?”

He nodded, meeting her gaze. “Come with me. Move with me to Columbus. I don’t want us to be apart—I want us to figure this out together.”

Her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of excitement and fear welling up inside her. It was a big decision, a huge leap into an uncertain future, but as she looked into his eyes, she knew there was only one answer.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet certainty. “I’m with you. Wherever you go, I’m right there.”

They held each other tightly, both of them feeling the enormity of what lay ahead. But in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, they felt an unshakeable confidence—a shared certainty that, together, they could face whatever challenges would come their way.

Later that night, in the quiet of the hotel room, they shared a moment that felt sacred. Their kisses were slower, deeper, filled with the promise of everything they had committed to. Adam’s hands were tender as they explored her, memorizing every inch of her skin, his touch full of reverence.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and a hint of nervousness.

She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Absolutely. I love you, Adam.”

He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.”

As they lay together afterward, tangled in each other’s arms, she felt a profound sense of peace. It was as if the entire world had shrunk down to this single room, to the quiet of their breathing, to the warmth of his body beside her. They had made a promise tonight—a commitment to face the future together, to stay by each other’s side, no matter what. And in that moment, she knew there was nothing they couldn’t face as long as they had each other.

Columbus, Ohio – Fall 2023

Moving to Columbus was a whirlwind for both of them. The new city buzzed with excitement for Adam’s arrival, and the Blue Jackets fan base was thrilled to welcome their young prospect. The city had a new energy, one that felt vibrant and alive, as Adam settled into his role on the team.

Adam and Y/N found a modest, cozy apartment downtown, close enough to the rink for his practices but far enough that they could enjoy some quiet time together. The place was small, but it was theirs, and they spent the first few weeks transforming the bare walls and empty spaces into something that felt like home.

Boxes were everywhere as they unpacked, laughing and bickering playfully over where things should go. Adam insisted on keeping his signed rookie stick leaning in the corner of the living room, while she countered with a set of cozy throw pillows she’d found on a shopping trip. Every little detail was a negotiation, filled with laughter and eye rolls that melted into shared smiles.

“You know,” she teased one night, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips, “if you’d let me put those curtains up instead of keeping that blanket over the window, this place might actually start looking like a real apartment.”

Adam grinned, tossing a pillow onto the couch before walking over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You saying my decorating skills aren’t good enough?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’m saying you’re better at scoring goals than picking out curtains.”

He pulled her closer, his voice dropping. “And which one of those is most important to you?”

Her cheeks warmed as she looked up at him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Guess it depends on the context,” she murmured, her voice softening as their gazes locked.

The warmth in his eyes turned into something deeper, and he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing. His hands slipped to her waist, pulling her closer, and she felt herself melt into him, their bodies pressed together as if they were one.

They spent the rest of the night tangled together, exploring every inch of their new space in a way that made it feel truly theirs. It was as if each touch, each kiss, each whispered word was imprinting memories into the walls, filling the empty spaces with moments only they would know.

The honeymoon period of settling into the new apartment soon gave way to the challenges of Adam’s grueling schedule. Training camps, team practices, media obligations—it was a new rhythm, and it pulled him away from her more often than either of them had anticipated. Early mornings turned into long days at the rink, and by the time Adam got home, he was exhausted, barely able to muster up the energy for anything other than collapsing onto the couch.

At first, she tried to ignore the pang of loneliness that crept in during the quiet hours she spent alone in their apartment, filling her days with work, exploring the city, and calling friends from Michigan. But as the weeks went by, she couldn’t shake the feeling of missing him, even when he was right there beside her.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Adam came home, dropping his bag by the door with a tired sigh. She could see the weariness etched into his face, his usual spark dulled by exhaustion. He offered her a faint smile as he kicked off his shoes, heading straight for the couch.

She sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Long day?”

He nodded, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You have no idea. I mean, I knew the NHL was going to be intense, but this… it’s next level.” His voice was low, almost defeated, and it tugged at her heart.

“Hey,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You’re allowed to be tired, Adam. It’s a lot to handle.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes softening as he took her hand, pulling her into his lap. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, her fingers brushing through his hair as he leaned his head against her shoulder. Slowly, she felt his breathing even out, and she realized he’d fallen asleep, his arms still wrapped around her. She smiled to herself, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

The following morning, she woke up to find him already gone, his side of the bed cold, a note on the nightstand that read: Couldn’t wake you. Wanted you to sleep in. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Miss you already.

It was the kind of note that left her heart aching in the best way, but also reminded her of the distance that had crept between them, even in their shared space.

Despite the challenges, they found ways to make it work, weaving small routines into the chaos. She’d pack his lunch, slipping little notes into his bag—inside jokes, or silly sketches of the two of them—that he’d find in between drills. And on nights when he got home early enough, they’d cook together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, turning the simplest tasks into cherished rituals.

One night, they were attempting to make pasta—a meal that turned into a bit of a disaster when Adam managed to overcook the noodles. He looked at the pot with a mixture of defeat and confusion.

“Who knew pasta could be so difficult?” he groaned, looking over at her with a sheepish grin.

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “It’s okay. You might be terrible at cooking, but you’re still my favorite person.”

He turned around, pulling her into a hug. “Yeah? Even when I mess up pasta?”

“Especially when you mess up pasta,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They ended up ordering takeout, curling up on the couch as they ate, laughing over the mess they’d left in the kitchen. It was moments like these, filled with warmth and laughter, that reminded them both of why they were doing this—of the love that had brought them together and continued to hold them close, even through the difficult days.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense game, Adam returned home, his energy still buzzing from the win. She greeted him at the door with a warm smile, feeling her own excitement swell as he swept her up into his arms, spinning her around.

“We won, babe!” he said, his grin infectious. “I can’t believe it—it was insane! I thought we were done for in the third period, but we pulled it off.”

She laughed, holding onto him as he set her down, his arms still wrapped around her. “I’m so proud of you, Adam. You were amazing out there.”

His eyes softened, and he pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “Couldn’t have done it without knowing you’re here, waiting for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

In that moment, she felt her heart swell with love, the struggles and loneliness of the past few weeks fading away as they held each other. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft at first, filled with a mixture of gratitude and longing. But soon, the kiss deepened, fueled by the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface.

They moved together to the bedroom, his hands exploring her as if he were memorizing every inch of her. Their kisses were slow and deliberate, each touch a reminder of the love they shared, the commitment they’d made to each other. They undressed slowly, savoring the intimacy, the connection that felt so much deeper after the time they’d spent apart.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling as they whispered to each other in the quiet darkness. He told her about the game, sharing the small details he usually kept to himself—the nerves, the pressure, the way he’d thought of her during every break. And she listened, feeling closer to him than ever before, her fingers tracing light patterns along his chest.

As the night wore on, they drifted into a peaceful sleep, feeling a renewed sense of connection. For the first time in weeks, they both felt truly at home.

The next morning, she woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of soft music coming from the kitchen. She padded out of the bedroom, smiling when she found him standing by the stove, humming along to the song as he cooked.

“Look who’s trying to make up for last night’s pasta disaster,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

He laughed, turning around to kiss her. “I figured breakfast was the least I could do,” he said, grinning as he handed her a cup of coffee.

They spent the morning together, sharing a quiet breakfast, laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend. It was a simple, unremarkable moment, but to both of them, it felt like a little slice of happiness—a reminder of why they were doing this, and how much they meant to each other.

As they sat there, her hand in his, she felt a sense of contentment

Columbus, Ohio – Winter 2023

As the season progressed, Adam’s name began to pop up more frequently in the media. Headlines praised his impressive rookie performance, and clips of his plays trended on social media almost every week. Fans posted nonstop about his potential, and interviews with him were filled with questions about his goals and his future with the Blue Jackets. At first, it was exhilarating for both of them. Watching him on the ice, seeing how the city celebrated his success, made her heart swell with pride.

But as his fame grew, so did the pressures and the expectations. More demands on his time left him exhausted and often distracted. Nights out were frequently interrupted by fans wanting photos, or journalists eager for a quote, which Adam always handled with a smile, never wanting to disappoint anyone. She admired his dedication, but she began to feel as if they were sharing less and less of their world together.

One evening, after a particularly demanding week, they went out for dinner, hoping to carve out some time just for the two of them. But even in the cozy, dimly lit restaurant they’d chosen, whispers followed them, and a few fans approached their table.

“Hey, Adam, big fans—would you mind signing something for us?” one of them asked, an excited look on her face. Adam glanced at Y/N apologetically, but she gave him a small nod, urging him to go ahead.

He returned to their table after a few minutes, reaching for her hand, his face slightly flushed. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. “Guess this comes with the territory.”

She managed a small smile, but there was a twinge of something she couldn’t ignore—something that felt like loneliness. “It’s okay,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I’m just still getting used to sharing you with everyone.”

He looked at her, his expression softening as he realized the weight of her words. “You’ll never have to share me, Y/N. Not really. You know that, right?”

She forced a nod, but a part of her couldn’t ignore the growing fear that, eventually, the world might take too much of him. She squeezed his hand, trying to push the thought away. “I know,” she whispered, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt.

As the season wore on, the distance between them felt less like an occasional inconvenience and more like a permanent shadow that loomed over their relationship. Adam was constantly traveling for away games, and even when he was home, his mind was often preoccupied with training or strategies. The rare moments they did spend together were often late at night, with him collapsing into bed beside her, exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open as he murmured a sleepy “Goodnight.”

One evening, she finally couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. They were sitting on the couch, him scrolling through his phone, catching up on game footage, when she spoke.

“Adam,” she began, her voice quiet but steady. He looked up, noticing the serious expression on her face.

“Yeah?” He set his phone down, his attention fully on her.

She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I just…I miss us. I feel like we’re always together, but I’m not really with you. Not the way we used to be.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face, and he reached for her hand. “Y/N…I know it’s been tough. I feel it too. I don’t want you to feel like I’m drifting away. I’m just trying to keep up with everything, you know? The team, the media, the expectations…it’s all so much.”

Her heart softened, and she placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “I know, and I’m so proud of you. But I need you too. Not the player, not the celebrity—just you.”

He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my whole world, Y/N. I don’t want to lose us in all of this.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. “Then let’s make time for each other. Even if it’s just little moments. I don’t want us to get lost in the noise.”

They sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s warmth, a silent agreement passing between them. They promised each other that, no matter what, they would find ways to stay connected, to hold onto the love that had brought them together in the first place.

A few weeks later, Adam surprised her with a weekend getaway. He booked a small cabin an hour outside the city, nestled in the woods, where they could disconnect from the world and just be together.

As they drove up to the cabin, she felt a thrill of excitement, the tension of the past few months melting away. The cabin was cozy, with a fireplace crackling in the corner, and a view of the snow-covered trees outside. They spent the first day simply enjoying each other’s company, cooking together, sharing stories, and laughing like they hadn’t in months.

That night, as they sat by the fire, wrapped in blankets, he pulled her close, his fingers tracing light patterns along her arm. “I missed this,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of tenderness. “I missed just being with you, away from everything else.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “Me too,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was slow, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he deepened the kiss, their breaths mingling in the quiet warmth of the room.

They moved together with a renewed passion, savoring each touch, each whisper. It felt like a rediscovery of everything they loved about each other, a reminder of the connection that went beyond the demands of his career. They undressed slowly, their bodies pressed together as they explored each other, the intimacy of the moment grounding them in a way that nothing else could.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, the glow of the fire casting a warm light across the room. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I love you,” he whispered, his fingers brushing through her hair. “More than anything. Thank you for being here, for sticking with me through all of this.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you too, Adam. Always.”

They drifted into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that, no matter how tough things got, they would always find their way back to each other.

The weekend away renewed their strength, but as they returned to Columbus, the pressures of Adam’s career quickly crept back in. Yet, this time, they both held onto the memory of the cabin, the quiet promises they’d made to each other. They made an effort to carve out little moments—a morning coffee shared in comfortable silence, a late-night drive to clear their heads, a quiet dinner in their favorite restaurant where they could be just two people in love.

One evening, as they sat on the couch after another long day, she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in months.

“Do you ever wonder if it’ll get easier?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at her, a gentle smile on his face. “Sometimes. But even if it doesn’t, I know we’ll get through it. We’re in this together, right?”

She smiled, her fingers lacing with his. “Always.”

In that moment, she knew that, no matter how intense the pressures of his career became, no matter how many obstacles they faced, they would find a way to hold onto each other. They were each other’s constant, the quiet strength that carried them through the noise and chaos. And in the end, that was all they needed.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Adam pulled her close, his hands tracing light circles along her back. “Thank you for being my rock,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. “For always understanding, even when I’m not around as much as I want to be.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “You’re worth it, Adam. Every second.”

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss, filled with all the gratitude and love he couldn’t put into words. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly, each touch a reminder of the promises they had made to each other. In the quiet darkness, they shared a connection that went beyond words, a love that was steadfast and unbreakable.

As they lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, she felt a renewed sense of peace, a quiet certainty that, no matter where life took them, they would always find their way back to each other.

Michigan and Beyond – Summer 2024

The off-season finally arrived, and with it came a long-awaited break from the demands and pressures of the NHL. For the first time in months, Adam didn’t have to rush off to practices, interviews, or endless travel. He was just…Adam, the guy she’d fallen in love with back in college, and for a few precious months, they were able to live without a schedule dictating every hour of their day.

It was late June when they decided to visit Michigan, eager to revisit the place where their journey began. The drive back was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by laughter and the occasional off-key singing as they played their favorite songs from their college days. The familiar landscape rolled by, the roads bringing back memories of late-night drives, coffee runs, and spontaneous adventures.

When they arrived, the University of Michigan campus was quieter, the summer break leaving the buildings mostly empty. They parked the car and walked hand-in-hand through the familiar paths, the air filled with nostalgia.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Adam asked, glancing down at her with a soft smile. “I couldn’t even focus on practice that day. My teammates gave me so much grief for being distracted.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “I remember you nearly walked into a door because you were staring at me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I couldn’t help it. You looked…amazing. Still do.”

They wandered around the campus, revisiting their favorite spots—the library where they’d spent countless nights studying together, the little café where they had their first date, the rink where she’d cheered him on at every game. Each place held a memory, and they spent hours reminiscing, sharing stories and laughing at all the little things that had brought them together.

That evening, they drove out to a secluded lake where they had often gone during their college years to escape the world for a while. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the water, and the quiet of the place wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.

Adam spread out a blanket on the shore, and they lay side by side, watching the sky transform from soft pinks and oranges to deep purples and blues. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, and she looked over at him, her heart swelling with love.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft and thoughtful, “coming back here with you… It reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life. I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know where I’d be without you, Y/N.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart fluttering at his words. “Adam, I feel the same way. Being here with you, away from everything else, it’s like…this is how it’s supposed to be. Just us.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their bodies pressed close as the cool evening breeze rustled around them. There was something grounding about being in that familiar place, surrounded by nature, with nothing but each other. They moved together in the fading light, every touch filled with tenderness, every kiss a promise of the love they’d built and the future they would share.

They spent the night lying on the blanket, watching the stars, talking about their dreams, their fears, and their plans for the future. It was a rare, cherished moment, the kind that only came when time seemed to stand still, and they could simply be together, with no demands or expectations.

The next day, they set out on a road trip across Michigan, stopping at small towns, scenic overlooks, and quirky little roadside attractions. The freedom of the open road was exhilarating, and they filled the trip with laughter, silly selfies, and spontaneous detours.

At one point, they stopped at a little antique shop in a small town, where she found a vintage record player she’d always dreamed of having. Adam insisted on buying it for her, despite her protests.

“Come on, it’s perfect for our apartment,” he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “And we’ll fill it with all our favorite records.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart warmed at the gesture. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”

He shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “Well, you deserve to be spoiled.”

They ended up spending half the day exploring the shop, picking out records and laughing over the quirky finds. It was a small, simple moment, but it felt like a piece of happiness, one of those memories that would stay with them long after the road trip was over.

Their last night in Michigan, they decided to revisit their favorite college bar—a little dive just off campus where they had spent countless nights with friends, celebrating wins and commiserating over losses. They ordered their usual drinks, laughing as they slipped back into the carefree atmosphere of their college days.

The bar was filled with students, and a few of them recognized Adam, offering congratulations on his success with the Blue Jackets. He smiled, thanking them graciously, but he kept his attention on her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist as if grounding himself in the present.

They danced to the old songs they’d loved in college, laughing as they spun each other around, letting loose in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. There was something freeing about being there, away from the eyes of the media, away from the pressures of his career. For that night, they were just Adam and Y/N, two people who had fallen in love in a little college town, and it felt like nothing else mattered.

As they left the bar in the early hours of the morning, he pulled her close, his voice soft in her ear. “Thank you for this,” he murmured, his eyes filled with gratitude. “For everything. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “We’re both lucky, Adam.”

They walked back to their car, hand in hand, feeling a renewed sense of connection, a reminder of everything that had brought them together.

When they finally returned to Columbus, they spent the next morning lounging around their apartment, savoring the last moments of their time off. They made breakfast together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes and sipping coffee.

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket as they listened to the records they’d bought on their trip. The soft melodies filled the room, and they sat in comfortable silence, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around her.

“Do you ever think about the future?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

He looked down at her, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, all the time. Especially when I think about you.”

She smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement at his words. “What do you see?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening. “I see us. Maybe a house someday, a place we can really make our own. And…maybe a family, if that’s what you want.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks warming. “I’d like that,” she whispered, feeling a mixture of excitement and hope.

He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll have.”

They spent the rest of the morning wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about their dreams and the life they wanted to build together. It was a quiet, precious moment, a promise of the future they were creating, step by step.

As the off-season came to an end, they spent their last days together savoring every moment. They took long walks around the city, went on picnics, and spent late nights watching movies, laughing and holding each other close. Each moment was a reminder of the love they shared, the foundation they had built, and the dreams they had for the future.

On their final night before the season began again, Adam surprised her with a romantic dinner on their balcony, stringing up fairy lights and setting the table with candles and flowers. They spent the evening under the stars, sharing stories, laughter, and quiet, lingering kisses.

As the night drew to a close, he took her hand, his eyes filled with love and a quiet intensity. “Whatever happens this season, wherever this career takes me, I want you to know that you’re my priority. You’re the one thing that keeps me grounded, that reminds me of who I am. I’ll never lose sight of that, or of you.”

She felt her heart swell, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I know, Adam. And I’m here for you, no matter where this takes us. I love you.”

They shared a kiss under the stars, their hearts full of hope and promise. As they held each other close, they both knew that, no matter how demanding life became, they would always find their way back to each other. Their love was their anchor, their constant, and it was a promise that neither of them would ever break.

Columbus, Ohio – Mid-Season 2024

The season was in full swing, and Adam had been pushing himself harder than ever, determined to keep up with the demands of his growing career. Game after game, he poured everything he had into the ice, always eager to improve, to prove himself. But one night, after a particularly intense game, everything changed in an instant.

She was watching from the stands, cheering as usual, when she saw him go down. It was a rough play, and in a split second, Adam crashed to the ice, clutching his leg. Her heart stopped, a cold fear gripping her as she watched him wince in pain, his teammates gathering around him. The medical staff rushed onto the ice, helping him up, but the look on his face told her everything she needed to know—it wasn’t just a bruise or a scrape. Something was wrong.

After what felt like an eternity, they helped him off the ice, and she could see the strain in his face as he tried to put weight on his leg. Her stomach twisted as she rushed down to meet him, her mind racing with worry.

When she reached the locker room, she found him sitting on the bench, an ice pack pressed to his knee, his face pale. He looked up when he saw her, offering a weak smile, but she could see the frustration and fear in his eyes.

“Adam,” she whispered, rushing to his side. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged, letting out a bitter laugh. “Not really. Doc says it’s a sprain, maybe worse. They’re running more tests tomorrow.”

She sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Adam. You’re going to get through this.”

He nodded, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to hold back his frustration. “I just… I can’t believe this happened. I’ve been so careful, doing everything right, and now this? Right in the middle of the season?”

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Hey, don’t think like that. This is just a setback, okay? You’re going to heal, and you’ll come back stronger. You’ve overcome so much already.”

He looked at her, his eyes softening as he took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat there for a while, her hand in his, both of them absorbing the reality of the situation. She could feel his vulnerability, the weight of his disappointment and fear, and it broke her heart to see him like this. But she was determined to be there for him, to support him through every step of his recovery.

The following days were a blur of doctors’ appointments, physical therapy sessions, and long, quiet evenings in their apartment. Adam was restless, the injury weighing heavily on him, and she could see how much it affected him. He tried to keep his spirits up, but there were moments when the frustration and doubt would creep in, clouding his usually optimistic outlook.

One evening, she found him sitting on the couch, staring at the floor, his shoulders slumped. She walked over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked gently, her voice soft.

He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back into her embrace. “I just feel…helpless. Everyone’s out there, giving it their all, and here I am, stuck on the sidelines, watching them. I don’t know how to just sit and wait.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her arms tightening around him. “Adam, you’re not alone in this. You have the whole team behind you, and you have me. We’ll get through this, one day at a time.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She shook her head, cupping his face in her hands. “You do. You deserve all the love and support in the world. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled her into a kiss, his hands gentle yet full of need, as if grounding himself in the comfort of her presence. She could feel the weight of his emotions, the vulnerability he rarely showed, and she held him close, offering all the reassurance she could.

That night, as they lay in bed, she could feel his tension, the worry that gnawed at him even as he tried to rest. She reached over, tracing light patterns along his arm, her fingers gentle and soothing.

“Adam,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the darkness.

He turned to face her, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Yeah?”

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I know this is hard, and I know it’s frustrating. But I need you to know that this doesn’t change anything—not who you are, not what you mean to me. You’re still the same person, still the man I fell in love with.”

He reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. “I needed to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Sometimes I feel like…like I’m letting everyone down.”

She shook her head, her gaze fierce. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re human, Adam. You’re allowed to have setbacks, to feel frustrated. But you’re also strong, and you’re going to get through this. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her hair. They lay together in the quiet darkness, their breaths mingling as he let go of the fears he had been holding onto, surrendering to the comfort of her presence.

As the days turned into weeks, they settled into a new routine, one built around his recovery. She accompanied him to his physical therapy sessions, offering words of encouragement and holding his hand when the exercises became challenging. She could see the determination in his eyes, the way he pushed himself even when it was difficult, and it filled her with pride.

One afternoon, as they returned from a therapy session, he looked over at her, a small smile on his face. “You know, I couldn’t do this without you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “You make it all a little easier.”

She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll always be here, Adam. We’re in this together.”

They spent the evening cuddled up on the couch, watching movies and sharing quiet moments of laughter. The injury, though difficult, had brought them closer in ways they hadn’t expected, revealing a strength in their relationship that went beyond the highs and lows of his career.

One night, after weeks of hard work and slow progress, Adam managed to walk unaided, taking a few steady steps across the room. She watched, her heart swelling with pride as he grinned at her, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice filled with joy. “I’m getting there.”

She rushed over, wrapping her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve come so far.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their hands exploring each other as if rediscovering the love they had nurtured through the challenges of his recovery. That night, they moved together with a renewed sense of passion, each touch filled with gratitude, each kiss a reminder of the strength of their love. They lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, a quiet peace settling over them.

As they drifted into sleep, she felt a renewed sense of hope, a quiet certainty that, no matter what challenges they faced, they would always find their way back to each other.

When Adam was finally cleared to return to the ice, he was filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She watched from the stands, her heart pounding as he stepped onto the rink, his movements tentative at first but growing more confident with each stride.

As he skated, he looked up at her, offering a small, reassuring smile. She waved, her heart swelling with pride as she saw him back in his element, a part of the team once again.

After practice, he rushed up to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I did it,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief and joy. “I’m back.”

She hugged him tightly, her voice filled with pride. “I never doubted you, Adam. Not for a second.”

They shared a kiss, the world around them fading as they held each other, their love a constant in the whirlwind of his career. They had faced the challenge together, and they had come out stronger, their bond deeper than ever before.

That evening, as they returned home, they sat on the balcony, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. Adam took her hand, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her skin.

“Thank you for being there for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m the lucky one, Adam.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, their hearts full of love and hope for the future. As they watched the stars, they knew that, no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, their love a constant light in the journey they had chosen to walk side by side.

Columbus, Ohio – Spring 2025

The season had been a wild success, both for the team and for Adam personally. With each game, he’d made his mark, proving himself not only as a strong player but as a dependable teammate and leader. But tonight was something extra special: Adam had reached a major career milestone—his 100th NHL goal.

Y/N watched from the stands, her heart racing as she saw the puck soar into the net, the entire arena erupting in cheers. She jumped up, clapping and cheering along with the crowd, a wave of pride swelling inside her. She caught his eye from across the rink as he skated back toward the bench, and he pointed up at her, a private little gesture that made her heart skip.

When the game ended, the crowd was still buzzing with excitement, chanting his name as he made his way off the ice. Y/N hurried down to the locker room, her cheeks flushed, anticipation bubbling up inside her as she waited to congratulate him.

The locker room was a whirlwind of laughter and celebration, his teammates congratulating him and slapping him on the back. When he finally spotted her waiting by the door, he broke into a grin, jogging over to pull her into his arms.

“Adam, I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “One hundred goals—you did it!”

He laughed, his eyes shining with excitement as he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug. “We did it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

They shared a quick, private kiss, his hands lingering at her waist as if he didn’t want to let go. She could feel the pride radiating from him, a joy she knew he’d worked so hard for, and it made her heart swell with love.

“Alright, lovebirds!” one of his teammates called out, laughing as he tossed a towel in their direction. “Save some of that energy for the party!”

Adam rolled his eyes, chuckling as he turned back to her. “Ready to celebrate?”

She nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “With you? Always.”

Later that night, the team threw a celebration in honor of Adam’s milestone. The restaurant was filled with laughter and music, everyone sharing stories and toasting to his success. She stayed close by his side, watching him light up as his friends and teammates congratulated him. There was a certain ease to him tonight, a glow that only came from the fulfillment of a dream realized.

At one point, his coach raised a glass, calling for everyone’s attention. “Here’s to Adam,” he began, his voice filled with pride. “A hundred goals is no small feat, but what makes this guy truly remarkable is his heart and dedication. He’s a role model on and off the ice, and we’re proud to call him one of our own. To Adam!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Adam looked over at her, his face a mix of pride and gratitude. She raised her glass to him, giving him a warm smile as she mouthed, “To you.”

After a while, they slipped outside, finding a quiet spot away from the crowd. The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as they stood beneath the stars. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “A hundred goals. Feels like a dream.”

She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s no dream. You worked hard for this, Adam. You deserve every bit of it.”

He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Y/N. You’ve been my rock through everything—the highs, the lows, the injuries… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart swelling with love. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she whispered, smiling through the emotion.

They shared a long, tender kiss under the stars, a private celebration of everything they had accomplished together. In that moment, she knew that, no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

After the party, they returned home, both of them still riding the high of the evening. As soon as they stepped inside, he pulled her into his arms, his hands resting at her waist as he looked down at her.

“Dance with me,” he murmured, his voice soft.

She laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Adam, there’s no music.”

He shrugged, a playful grin on his face. “We don’t need music.”

He led her in a slow dance around the living room, their movements unhurried and gentle. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as they swayed together. It was a quiet, intimate moment, a perfect end to a night they would remember forever.

As they danced, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you for believing in me, for standing by me through everything.”

She looked up at him, her heart overflowing with love. “Always, Adam. I’m with you every step of the way.”

They continued to dance, the world around them fading away, until they finally settled onto the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. They spent the night talking about their dreams, sharing their hopes for the future, the love between them stronger than ever.

The following morning, they sat together on the balcony, sharing a quiet breakfast as the sun rose over the city. She looked over at him, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So, what’s next for us?” she asked softly, reaching for his hand.

He looked thoughtful, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, I know I don’t want to do any of it without you. Whatever the future holds, you’re my number one.”

She smiled, feeling her heart skip a beat. “Do you ever think about…you know, settling down? Maybe a place of our own? A family?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes shining with hope. “All the time. I want all of that with you, Y/N. A home, a family—everything.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, both of them feeling the weight of their shared dreams. The future felt open, a promise of everything they had worked for, and she knew that, whatever came next, they would face it together.

That evening, as the sun set, they decided to celebrate privately, sharing a bottle of wine on their balcony as the city lights began to twinkle. Adam poured them each a glass, raising his in a toast.

“To us,” he said, his eyes filled with love. “To everything we’ve built, everything we’ve overcome, and everything we’re going to create together.”

She smiled, clinking her glass with his. “To us.”

They sipped their wine, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment that only came from being truly loved. In that quiet moment, they both knew that, no matter where life took them, they had found something lasting and real—a love that would carry them through every victory, every setback, and every dream they held for the future.

As they looked out over the city, she rested her head on his shoulder, her heart full of love and gratitude. They were each other’s home, each other’s hope, and she knew that, no matter what, they would always find their way back to each other.

And as the stars began to appear in the night sky, they shared one last kiss, a quiet promise of everything they would share in the years to come.

[platonic-soulmates-gencest]

you said send mommy dean monday headcanons and my first thought was that when they were younger, dean used to cool down sam's soup by blowing on it himself before spoonfeeding sam. he only ever did it with soup (sam had to tough out the rest) but he was still doing it past a traditionally appropriate age and the habit stopped for the same reason they always do (john made a face, dean didn't do it anymore). dean wouldn't do it afterwards unless sam was really sick and the first time jess jokingly blew on sam's soup when he had the flu at stanford he broke down crying

OH MY GOD THIS IS PERFECT

Definitely happened. I don't care what anyone says this is canon to me now!! (Thank you for enlightening my day with this!!)

Dean blowing on Sammy's spoonfuls at first because he had to and later because it had always been like this. Dean knew no other way.

I'm thinking 15 year old Sam just sitting on the table and studying, too engrossed in his reading to eat on his own. Dean doesn't mind. He likes taking care of Sam. His own soup is untouched as he concentrates on feeding Sam without spilling any soup on his books or have Sam burn himself.

John finds them like that.

Dean just greets his dad and continues feeding Sam, who hasn't taken his eyes off his books.

John just keeps staring at them, eyes wide like he's suddenly walked in another universe, like this hasn't happened a million times before.

He talks to Dean about it the next day. Dean stops doing it in front of John.

Eventually, 16 years old Sam decides they have to stop to be normal.

Dean witnesses Sam getting burn or spilling soup on himself countless times after that. He always tries to get the spoon from his brother but stops himself before Sam notices.

When Sam is at Stanford, Jess does it once when Sam is sick. It was supposed to be a romantic gesture. Sam knows that. He knows it but all he can think about was how he misses Dean in the moment. Dean always made colds feel better. And Jess was trying. Sam knew she was trying but she wasn't Dean. Nobody could ever do it like Dean.

They don't get back in the habit of Dean spoonfeeding Sam until years after they've moved to the bunker. When they stop caring about what others think.

They don't do it in front of Mary though. Dean doesn't wanna rub it in how he's always been the one taking care of Sam and not her. Sam kinda wants to show her though. He wants her to know how Dean had always been a better mother than she would ever be.

(Okay, I'm gonna stop. But I kinda want to write more about this... I should add this to my "to write" fic list. Thank you for the ask!)

[songbird-and-her-fos]

Dance Lessons

Emmrich/F!Rook

Emmrich likes to indulge in the finer arts, including dance, and wants to share this with Rook. Sadly, Rook has little confidence in her dancing abilities

-

A quiet day at the Lighthouse. Lyrei “Rook” Ingellvar didn’t know what drew her to the small hidden room with the big piano, but she found herself there nonetheless. There were so many more enjoyable things she could spend her time with, she told herself, so why come here? Perhaps it was the instrument itself that attracted her to this seldom visited corner of the Lighthouse; Rook loved music, though she had never had the opportunity to learn to play. So her fingers only lightly grazed the ivories, never truly pressing any of them hard enough to produce a sound.

She missed music. Be it the lengthy elegies written for funerals back in Nevarra or lively drinking songs filling the air of taverns; she hadn’t heard any of that in way too long a time.

Hadn’t Bellara discovered an ancient Elven music box not too long ago? Just as Rook resolved to ask about it soon, someone entered the room.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, dearest. I’ve been looking for you.”

She turned around, her face lighting up with a smile. “Emmrich.”

He held up the artifact in his hands. “I asked Bellara if she would let us borrow her music box; there’s something I want us to try with it.” He placed it on a nearby table. “I had at first considered trying to teach Manfred how to play the piano for us; he was very interested, but I think he needs to focus on his magic training for the time being.”

“Now you’re making me curious”, Rook said cheerfully. “Don’t keep me in suspense like that!”

“My darling, have you ever tried dancing?”

Rook bit her lip. “I haven’t. I’m not sure I would be any good at it, to be honest.”

Emmrich stretched out his arms to pull her against him. “Nonsense. I see how you move in battle; you are a born dancer if I’ve ever seen one.”

Her eyes flitted about the room, for the first time trying to look at anything but him. “I don’t want to embarrass myself; especially not in front of you.”

Emmrich leaned forward and kissed her. “I would never judge you, you know that. Come, we'll start with a simple waltz. Without music, so you can get a feeling for the steps first.”

Rook hesitated for a moment, but found herself unable to say no to him. Not when he was so excited at the prospect of dancing with her. “...Okay, but I take no responsibility for any damage done to your toes.”

“Marvelous! It's easy, really.” He placed one hand on her waist and took hers with the other. “Start by taking a step forward with your left foot, then a sideways step with your right foot…”

This “simple waltz” felt anything but simple at first. She executed the steps just as Emmrich instructed, but kept losing the rhythm and felt her face heat up every time she stumbled. Just when she was about to ask if it was time to stop, Emmrich paused.

“Rook, my dearest, you are way too stiff. Relax. Don’t worry too much about executing every step perfectly. Just focus on me.”

Rook took another deep breath. “Focus on you. Okay. I can do that.” She concentrated on his eyes, gentle and loving as ever. No trace of judgement or annoyance. He moved, and she followed, her mind easing to a pleasant emptiness that left space for the two of them, and nothing else. She barely noticed when his hand slightly moved and the music box began playing. It was an ancient Elven song, a far cry from modern ballroom music, but it still flowed into their movements like a guiding breeze. That was her entire world in this moment; music and movement… and Emmrich, smiling at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I knew you could do it.” Delight lit up his eyes.

“What can I say? I have an excellent teacher.”

Step by step, they twirled through the room, allowing themselves to get lost in the moment. One, two, three…

Emmrich’s hoarse chuckle slightly pulled her from her thoughts. “You are absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “Says the stunning man in front of me.”

He laughed, and her heart did a little flip.

The song slowly fizzled out, and with a final spin, Emmrich, kissed her and then rested his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“And I love you. And… thank you for teaching me how to dance. Maybe we can do this more often?”

“Whenever you like, my dearest.”

[call-me-chips]

New MHA oc! (More info below the cut :) )

Basic info:

Full name: Kyomu Mori (Mori is his surname) Nickname: Kyo Gender: Male (He/him) Sexuality: Gay Height: 6'2" Weight: 185lbs Age: 16 Birthday: April 6th Zodiac: Aries MBTI: ESTP-A Langauges: Japanese, English, Filipino Ethnicity: Japanese, Filipino Dominant hand: Right Scars: Scar on the upper center of his forehead Reason for scars: Unknown Piercings: 1 right eyebrow piercing, 1 lobe piercing on each ear Eye colour: Yellow Skin colour: Medium brown Hair colour: Light blue, white Hair style: High ponytail Hair length: Upper back Body type: Tall, muscular Special features: Anthro-like legs, long tail, oddly shaped ears, slightly sharp fingers, sharp canine teeth

MHA related:

Occupation: UA Student Hero name: Tamper Quirk: Memory Mutation. The ability to move, alter, and add to memories of both others and himself with just a touch More detailed quirk description: When the user touches another person with either their hands, feet, or tail, they are able to access the recent memories (recent being a few days) of the person and alter them. With further concentration and effort, they can access older memories (older being a week or more), but this is draining and difficult to successfully do. Although memory tampering can be performed with the hands, tail, and feet, the effect doesn't work as well with the feet. Altering memories: This action is the easiest to do. With this action, the user is able to change a specific part of a pre-existing memory. Example: They could cause you to remember leaving your keys on your desk, when you actually took them with you. Moving memories: This action makes the user practically able to delete a memory by moving it from someone's mind to his own, or from his mind to someone else's. Adding memories: This action takes the longest to perform. With this, the user can give someone a completely new memory, even if it's something that never happened. To do this, the user requires a lot of concentration, as they have to clearly invision all that happens in the memory. If their mind is not clear enough while invisioning the new memory, it may seem distorted.

Personal questions:

Is he more optimistic or pessimistic? Optimistic Is he more introverted or extroverted? Extroverted What bad habits does he have? "I have no bad habits." He can't sit normally in chairs. He chews with his mouth open (he blames the fangs). He jaywalks. Doesn't like listening to authority How does he display affection? He loves physical touch, and will sometimes purposefully touch people he likes with his tail How does he want to be seen by others? He wants to be seen as the cool older brother figure to Class 1A How does he see himself? He sees himself as a valuable member of his class How do others see him? His closest friends see him as a brother, while others see him as a rebellious teenager who's always getting into trouble How does he react to praise? With open arms How does he react to criticism? In the moment, he acts like he doesn't care and like he doesn't listen, but later, he finds himself thinking over it deeper and trying to subtly improve What is his greatest fear? "Nothing." Being forgotten What are his phobias? Enclosed spaces, mice/rats Favourite animal? Dogs. Specifically German Shepherds because of how fierce and protective they can be (And that he thinks guard dogs are fucking awesome) Favourite colour? Yellow More often than not, what is his password? "Nice try. I ain't telling that." It's usually 1234567896 "Hey! >:(" What would he dress up as for Halloween? One of those big enflatable costumes like a dinosaur or a rubber duck What would he ask a fortune teller? "Hmmm, I don't trust it. If you are so smart, how many fingers are behind my back right now?" What sport is he good at? Basketball What sport is he bad at? Golf. He has something personal against golf and anyone who plays it

Kyomu is, design-wise, basically just a compilation of physical traits that I am either bad at, or want to improve on. I'm not good at drawing men. I'm not good at drawing hands, and his quirk involves using his hands. I want to get better at drawing different perspectives of asymmetrical objects, so I gave him an asymmetrical tail. I'd like to improve at drawing anthro legs. I want some experience with drawing fangs. I'm not good at drawing updo hairstyles

Feel free to ask more questions about him in my inbox. I'm always looking to add to characters :)

[thbcway]

songs that gives hualian vibes + lyrics 2

Eric Chou - Me And You

I like it when it's just me and you

I think by now you know it too

Not sorry if we ditch the crew

Just hope you feel the same way too

About me and you

There's not a thing that I wouldn't do

Ooh right now just to be here with you

I like you here in my arms

I like you here in my arms, ooh

Eric Chou - Something About You

And if you do just tell me you do

'Cause I can't live a day without you

There's something about you, I am addicted

There are some days we will be blue

But I will always love you

George Washington - Just The Two Of Us

I hear the crystal raindrops fall

On the window down the hall

And it becomes the morning dew

And darling when the morning comes

And I see the morning sun

I wanna be the one with you

Maggie Rogers - Love You For A Long Time

And in the mornin' when you wrap me up

I know that forever could never be enough

I feel it in my body, know it in my mind, oh, I

I'm gonna love you for a long time

I'm gonna love you for a long time

I'm gonna love you for a long time

Mitski - Heaven

Hear the storm dances outside

Something set free is running through the night

And the dark awaits us all around the corner

But here in our place, we have for the day

Can we stay a while and listen for heaven?

Heaven

Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling in Love

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

The Neighbourhood - Heaven

I would die for your heaven

I could lie here forever

Every night we're together

If you'd like, I'll do whatever

Sydney Rose - Turning Page

I've waited a hundred years

And I'd wait a million more for you

Nothing prepared me for

What the privilege of being yours would do

If I had only felt the warmth within your touch

If I had only seen how you smile when you blush

Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough

Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along

What I've been living for

Your love is my turning page

Where only the sweetest words remain

Every kiss is a cursive line

Every touch is a redefining phrase

----

Part 1

https://www.tumblr.com/thbcway/761146403324133376/well-then-i-recommend-you-to-listen-to-the-other?source=share

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Can I request college!Rejanis as roommates who start off still not liking each other, but slowly start getting closer during the late nights they stay up studying.

Things Take Time, Right?

|| Regina George x Janis Imi'ike

|| Warnings; college au, swearing, Regina and Janis arguing, relationship repair, slow burn (with no clear ending), college party mentions

|| Summary; when Janis comes home from studying, she's met with a sight she never thought she would see.

Requests closed!

Started; November 11th

Finished; November 11th

~~~

College. Janis had started off pretty excited, that was until she learnt who her roommate was. How the hell was her luck that bad?! Regina George?! Was this a fucking joke? A nightmare she would wake up from? Unfortunately no. As she now found herself face to face with the blonde devil. Ugh, just what she wanted. Mondays were already annoying as is. And now she finds out Regina George is her roommate. On a Monday. Worse Monday in history.

Regina was just as thrilled as Janis was. She'd even gone the extra length to try and change rooms, but nobody budged out of theirs. The scream she let out when she returned to her dorm was deafening. Janis grimaced when she heard it and came out of her room to face the blonde.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Janis folded her arms across her chest, honestly if she had to listen to that scream one more time.. she would set the whole dorm on fire. Consequences be damned.

"Ugh, just shut up." Regina shoved past her, getting into her room and slamming the door behind her. Janis groaned loudly and stomped back to her own room. This would be a long ass year. Maybe in the new semester she could get a roommate switch...

It wasn't long before classes started. Janis tried to focus on her work, but Regina had parties pretty much every night. Almost sure the blonde was doing it just to piss her off. So she would spend most of her nights at the library, staying at the school as late as she possibly could just to avoid it all. Avoid her.

That was, until Regina realized she needed to actually get a grip on her classes. Her grades were slipping, so she threw less parties. Pissing off Janis wasn't worth the poor grades she was getting as a result. No matter how fun it may have been.

One night, after Janis returned from her study session. She found Regina on the dorm couch. Furiously writing into her notebooks while reading off pages from textbooks. Janis raised an eyebrow and smirked," did hell freeze over?" She asked. Regina scoffed and didn't respond. "Careful, gonna burn a hole through your paper at this rate."

"Fuck off." Regina threw her eraser at her, but missed and Janis just laughed. Walking over and taking a seat beside her. She looked over Regina's notes.

"I think this is the first time I've ever seen you study for anything." Honestly, Janis was amazed by the sight. She never thought she would see it.

"Just... stop. I'm trying to concentrate." Regina muttered, looking through the textbook again to make sure she hasn't missed anything. She knew she had a test coming up and if she got perfect, it would seriously help her grades.

"Not so fun when someone's distracting you, is it?" Janis retorted, earning a sharp glare. She raised her hands in innocence as she stood," fine, fine." Janis walked over to the little kitchen, getting some pizza pockets from the fridge and heating them up. Regina paused as the smell of food flooded her nose. When was the last time she ate? She glanced up at Janis, eyes softening ever so slightly.

"Could we share? I'll buy you something in the cafeteria tomorrow." Regina asked slowly, treading carefully and trying to seem innocent. As though she hasn't been a bitch to Janis. Janis simply sighed and raised an eyebrow at her. Debating it over in her head, she really wanted to say no. But she knew both of them were low on food. Neither has gone out grocery shopping in a hot minute; being too busy with classes. Though she still really wanted to say no, she also knew that would just make her life more miserable.

"Fine." When the pizza pockets were done, she tossed one at Regina with a smirk. "Catch."

Regina fumbled it and glared at Janis who burst out laughing, but luckily it only landed in Regina's lap. And not the ground. She took a bite from it and looked at her," ..thanks."

"Don't work yourself too hard, Reginald." Janis teased, earning an eye roll from Regina.

Janis headed into her own room. Maybe... things could be okay between them. They would never be perfect, but they'd be okay. Eventually. Things take time, right?