#all he wants is to be appreciated and seen as something extraordinary because he knows he is

[sunny-knight]

Is this account new?? I came from your TikTok account. I remembered your Papyrus with a star head art, so I went to see if you posted it here, too. It connected with me a lot. I wrote my analysis on it from the heart, so I was hoping I could comment on the art again on Tumblr. Anyway, I hope you have a good life!! I guess I also just wanted to say....thank you. You make wondrous art :]

AW MAN thank you so much I appreciate the support so much. Loved that analysis dearly as well, I wouldn’t say its “new” but i only started being active on tumblr like 3-4 months ago… Heres the drawing again!!! When I made it, I think I did post it, just not on this blog.

[may-stuff]

The Only Thing He Needs | F.C

Franco Colapinto x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Cunnilingus, p in v, creampie (in that order) typos and grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language. reader has breasts and a vagina but nothing else about her looks is specified

Word count: 3k

Author's note: Behold... my first child. It's ugly af but I love it because it's mine.

This is shorter than expected and I'm sure it'll disappoint many of you, so I apologise in advance. I'm just a girl trying to make the fandom happy.

Interactions with this thing would be appreciated, even if you want to let me know how much it sucked 💖

The sun is setting when he finally enters his room after what it felt like an eternity. The weather outside is so hot that when the cool air touches his skin he almost lets out a groan.

Franco would be lying if he said that it wasn't an extraordinary day, because it was. Despite the tremendous heat inside the car and the physical pain he went through, he did an amazing job and couldn't be prouder of himself and everything he has achieved at this point in his career. Sensing that there's a lot more to come, he can only feel excitement for the near future.

Still, even after everything that has happened and all the love and support he's received in the last couple of hours, there's something missing. Someone.

You.

You were there at the paddock during the race, but trying to avoid the media and all the fuss that would be caused if they knew of your relationship, you left the moment you saw the cameras. He hasn't seen you since then, almost three hours ago, and he wouldn't be exaggerating if he said that he is dying because of it.

You're everything he needs.

When his eyes finally find you, you're coming out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in nothing more than one of his old shirts. Your hair is loose and messy, your feet bare and there's that glint in your pretty eyes when you realise that now he's here in front of you, breathing the same air. Your beauty makes his heart swell with love.

His arms are wrapped around your waist the moment you literally jump into his embrace. Soon you're showering him in kisses all over his face and neck. He giggles in response, the grip on your waist increasing slightly.

"Missed you." You mutter, nose nudging the left side of his jaw. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay."

"It's okay." Franco answers. "You're here now. That's all I need."

And he means every word.

You smile in response. A smile that reaches your eyes and makes them shine with such intensity that makes him feel dizzy with love.

"You should take a shower." You don't miss the way he pouts when you pull away from him to have a better look at his face. "You stink, love."

"You love me anyway. Stinky and all."

Your laughter echoes in the entirety of the room as you walk towards the closet, where you look for a clean shirt and shorts and then toss them towards him. Rolling his eyes, he walks to the bathroom, chuckling when your voice, from the other side of the door, reminds him that you love him always.

Almost half an hour later he comes out of the bathroom, all wet hair and bare chest. He finds you in front of the bureau where you’ve put some of your clothes and he knows he should be thinking about something else right now, maybe discuss the race and his future in F1, or maybe he should tell you how much he would love to let the world know that he is yours, but all he can do is stare at you. 

Leaning on the doorframe, he observes your every move. You’re not doing something extraordinary, only going through your things, probably looking for the earrings you’ve lost again, but he isn’t afraid of admitting that every single thing you do, no matter how big or small, make you look like the most fascinating creature in existence.

Soon, as every other day, he finds himself walking in your direction. Hands itching with the need of touching you.

There's something about you. Something that lures him in like nothing else has done before. Maybe it's your hair and the intoxicating smell that touches his nostrils when he buries his face in it. Or maybe it's your skin and its taste, so sweet that it forbids him from thinking straight. It sure is the sound you make when you feel his hands on your waist.

His long fingers roam the skin of your waist and back as his lips kiss a wet trail down the right side of your neck. A soft breath leaves his mouth when his lips reach the spot right over your pulse, wasting no time in sinking his teeth in your flesh, softly but hard enough to make you hiss in pain.

"Fran." You warn him. Dainty hands touch his in an attempt to push him away, but his grip on your waist becomes stronger with the fear of losing the contact  with your skin.

"No, no. Por favor." He whimpers. He whimpers impossibly close to your ear, the agonic plea making you squirm in his arms almost against your own will.

"You bit me, Franco."

"Perdón." He cries. "Perdón. I won't do it again."

The mere thought of you leaving hurts him so bad that it is almost physical. It's been such a tough day and now all he wants is to hold you and never let go. You're the only one who can make him feel safe, at home.

There's nothing in this world that Franco loves more than having you in his arms, being able to kiss every part of you and rejoice in the way your body and soul respond to him. Always you, no one else.

“Tanta belleza..." he whispers. Hands now travel up your abdomen and then your sternum, until they finally rest on your round breasts. When he starts kneading your flesh at the same time he keeps kissing and licking the skin of your neck, you moan softly. In response he chuckles, amused by the way in which his words and touch make you forget everything.

You want to be mad at him, you want to scold him and forbid him from touching you if he bites you again, but your mind is dizzy by his kiss and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. His touch breaks your resolve and he knows it, always taking advantage of that.

Today is no exception, because soon he starts moving against you. Hips rocking forward, his growing erection brushes against the roundness of your ass, making both of you moan out loud.

"Can you feel me, baby?" He asks and he sounds desperate. You want to answer but fail miserably because of the intensity of it all. "Can you feel how hard you make me? This is all because of you, for you." 

You moan his name when he moves his hips once more, your own body meeting him halfway, desperately  looking for the contact that makes your skin shiver. 

“You have no idea,” he mutters against your skin, words interrupted by the kisses he's still giving you. “The things I want to do to you…” 

Your answer comes in a shaky breath.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

The next few minutes happen so fast that you barely have a moment to process it all. In no time you're laying on the soft bed, your shirt is long gone and the cool air kisses your skin. The only piece of clothing remaining on your body is your underwear. 

Franco is at your feet, looking at you with eyes full of need and adoration. He takes a long time taking you in, pretty eyes looking at every piece of you, and when your own hands travel from your abdomen to your breasts, repeating his actions from before, a soft whine escapes his mouth. He observes as you touch yourself for him, right hand going down until you start playing with the hem of your knickers. He licks his lips, sight fixed on the wet spot in them. 

Just before you can sneak your hand under the soft fabric, his long fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you aside. He takes no time in replacing you, taking both sides of your panties and pulling them down. In no time they're being thrown to some place on the ground, long forgotten for the rest of the night. 

Hands on both of your knees, he spreads your legs open and lets out a shaky breath the moment your dripping cunt is finally on display. He has seen you like this countless times before but he always reacts the same way: enamoured with every part of your body. He wants to taste everything he can, he wants to drink from you until you beg him to stop.

And that's what he does.

Flat tongue travels from your hole to right under your clit, repeatedly, during a few tortuous seconds that feel like hours. Spreading you open with his thumbs, Franco keeps licking you there until you're the one whining and begging him to give you more. 

In response, you feel him smirk between your legs.

“You want more, huh?”

“Please. Fran, por favor.”

He chuckles.

“Qué putita que sos.”

You want to answer but nothing comes out of your mouth. Nothing but a high pitched moan when his lips finally lick your clit. Before you can even process what's happening, he's suckling on your bundle of nerves like it is the most delicious thing he's ever had the pleasure to taste. When your hands take a handful of his hair and tug at it softly, deep moans sound on the back of his throat and the vibrations rumble through your entire body, making your back arch in pleasure.

There's nothing better than this. His mouth on you, kissing, licking, making sounds that would make even the boldest of men blush. He eats you out like his life depends on it, ignoring the need for air in his lungs because all the oxygen he needs is in you, in your skin, in the very taste of you. He drinks from your juices as if they are the sweetest ambrosia, giving him life, giving him everything he needs. Nothing else, no one else but you.

You keep moaning his name louder and louder, not caring if others are listening. You'll deal with that later, but right now there's nothing in this world that could make you stop from letting him know how you feel.

“So good…” you moan. “You make me feel so good, baby.” 

He moans as well. Hips rocking against the bed cover, unconsciously looking for release. Your words are music to him, because all he wants is to make you feel so good that you forget everything else. Everything else but him. 

“You're soaked.” He groans after gathering your arousal on his tongue and then swallowing it. “Is this because of me, amor?”

Once again, you want to answer but his actions interrupt you. This time, your words get stuck in your throat by two of his long fingers entering you. Carefully, making sure he doesn't hurt you, but the only thing you can feel is the immense pleasure spreading all over your body, legs shaking slightly with the feeling of his fingers starting to move inside of you at the same time his lips wrap around your clit again, suckling with need. 

You moan his name like a mantra, both hands gripping his hair as your hips start to move almost involuntarily, rubbing yourself on his face as you look for your own release. He doesn't protest for a second, in fact, he grabs your ass in his hands to move you closer to his face and now it's impossible to part away from him, tongue and lips torturing your puffy clit as you cry out in pleasure. 

And then he does something that he's never done before.

His teeth grazes your sensitive bundle of nerves ever so slightly and that sends you to the edge. You have no time to react because soon entire galaxies are exploding behind your closed eyes. Some sort of electricity makes your body tremble as you cum on his tongue, and for a moment you feel like you are touching the sky with your hands. Seconds that feel like an eternity, you want to feel like this for the rest of your life. 

When you come back from some wonderful place you've never been before, you find yourself still laying on the bed, but this time Franco's on top of you. He's waiting for you to recover, only caressing your sides with his hands and leaving short kisses on your collarbone and chest. 

He knows you're back when you intertwine your fingers in his soft hair. 

“You okay?” He asks. You nod in response, a content smile on your lips. “Need you to use your words, baby.”

“I'm fine.” You answer. “Better than ever.”

He purrs like a kitten when your hands travel down his back, caressing his soft skin for a few moments. Then you remember that you’re the only one that has had an orgasm tonight, the realisationg making you feel incredibly guilty. Part of loving him is taking care of him as much as he does with you. That’s why it feels wrong, leaving him like this.

Your gaze finds his. He’s hovering over you now, one arm supporting his own weight as the other is in your face, fingertips brushing against your cheek and jaw. His big, pretty eyes are looking at you as if he’s trying to decipher you, and soon he does. It scares you sometimes, how easily he can read your thoughts by the expression on your face. 

“You don’t have to, you know?” He mutters. 

You kiss him softly, tasting yourself on his lips. 

“Of course I have to,” you object. “Because I love you.”

Franco smiles as you sit and motion to him to now lay on his back. He complies, never denying anything to you. 

Soon you’re kissing him again but this time you’re the one on top, legs on both sides of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth are intoxicating and, trying to coax more out of him, you take your hands to the waistband of his boxer and pull them down, just as he did with your underwear before. 

You wish you could take your time with him but you know that he won’t last long. His cock is impossibly hard, precum dripping out of the angry red tip. That’s why his reaction when you touch him doesn't surprise you; he’s at the edge and it won’t take much time for him to come undone in your arms.

“Amor…” he moans as you stroke him, spreading his juices all over his beautiful dick. You know what he wants. He’s trying to tell you that he can’t wait any longer, that all he wants is to feel you. 

So you comply. 

Both of you moan the exact moment he enters you, hard cock stretching you out in such a delicious way that has you closing your eyes tight. You’re so wet that he slides in easily, filling you completely. 

Your name leaves his lips in a plea that makes you move in no time. The friction coaxing more sounds out of the both of you. He whispers sentences that are never finished, words both in English and Spanish that have no coherence. He’s so lost in the bliss of having your sweet cunt wrapped around him that can barely speak properly. 

“You look so beautiful like this…” he manages to say, the phrase interrupted many times by his own moans. “Riding my cock… so, so good…”

In response you move faster. You can feel him inside of you, twitching with the need of release that will soon arrive. His grip on your waist tightens as you ride him faster and faster each time, breasts bouncing with your moves and that, too, sends him over the edge. 

“Fran…” you moan, your eyes pleading. “Come on, baby. Fill me up.”

Those words and your walls hugging his dick with such intensity are enough to make him cum. He reaches his orgasm in seconds, warm seed spilling deep inside of you and triggering your own climax, which is shorter than the previous one but even more intense.

You keep moving for a few seconds, milking his cock a little more. When you start feeling him going soft you decide to take him out of you, hearing him moan one more time as he watches his own semen dripping out of you. 

The way he looks after he has an orgasm is one of the most gorgeous things you’ve seen in your life. Hair dishevelled, skin glistening with sweat and pretty eyes full of satisfaction, he’s drunk in love and adoration for you and you love it. You love seeing him like this, knowing that you’re the reason behind it all. 

“You’re perfect.” you whisper to him, your lips hovering over his. “The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Franco smiles as his right hand comes up to caress your hair lovingly. Now, after the intensity of the love-making, both of you long for your lover’s touch in a more innocent way, in a way that can soothe all the aches. 

You stay like that, resting in each other’s arms, for what it feels like hours. After a while and starting to feel a little sleepy, you sit up on the bed. He looks in your direction, surprised and almost offended with you for pulling away from him. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“We need to take a shower, come on.” 

You try to get off the bed, but his strong arm is around you in an instant, taking you back to his side. You giggle as he holds you tight and starts biting at your neck.

“There’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says. “You’re staying here with me forever.”

“But we can’t!” You laugh again. “We need to have a shower and eat something.”

“No, no.” This time his tone is more serious. His hands are both on your cheeks, softly making you look at him in the eyes. “You are the only thing I need.” 

For a second you want to scold him for not taking his own well being seriously, but then a smile appears on your face, leaving the previous frown behind, because now you realise that you feel the same way.

.

taglist: @bicchaan @amz824 @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

I've mentioned this in passing in this post, but this is hands down my favourite line in The Fellowship of the Ring. The line speaks volumes about Glorfindel, and yet the details are easily missed by a first-time reader travelling along with Frodo and friends, and that's because not once does Glorfindel explain how significant his words and actions were. Yet there is so much to unpack! It is only left to us to appreciate them after learning more about this world.

“There are few even in Rivendell that can ride openly against the Nine…”

Again, Glorfindel only mentioned this in passing and did not explain, but the reason for this is because the only ones Rivendell would send to ride openly against the Nazgûl were special members of the Eldar: the Calaquendi, old Elves from Valinor and who have seen the light of the Two Trees. Gandalf later explains that these Elves “live at once in both worlds, and against both the Seen and Unseen they have great power”. The Nazgûl, as we learn, were wraiths that reside only in the Unseen world, and so to anyone else, they were invisible.

We know there were very few Calaquendi remaining in Middle-earth by the Third Age, and most of them reside in Rivendell. But even among them, likely only the warriors could be sent to go after the Nagzûl, chief of Sauron's servants. This early, we get a clue that Frodo and company have met someone extraordinary.

“It was my lot to take the Road…”

By “Road”, Glorfindel meant The Great East-West Road, an ancient road that cuts across Eriador from the Grey Havens to Rivendell and the Misty Mountains. This would have been the most perilous of the roads because it would have been the most obvious path passing through the Shire. Later, during the Council of Elrond, it would be mentioned that Sauron would be expecting the Ring to go from the Shire either to the Grey Havens or to Rivendell, both routes reached primarily via the Road.

It was to be expected therefore that this is the one path most guarded by the Enemy. Again, Glorfindel only mentions his task securing the Road in passing, but the fact that he got the most obvious and thus most perilous path speaks volumes of his ability and position in Rivendell. Only a few deemed able to ride openly against the Nine were sent out, and out of them, Glorfindel was the one sent to secure the most dangerous route. What ability and skill must this Elf have to be entrusted with such a task!

"I came to the Bridge of Mitheithel, and left a token there, nigh on seven days ago."

The Bridge of Mitheitel, or The Last Bridge, is the only way to cross the great River Hoarwell (Mitheitel) from Weathertop to Rivendell. Aragorn, as much as he could, avoided the Road, himself knowing the dangers possibly waiting for them there. Later though he tells the Hobbits, "I am afraid we must go back to the Road here for a while, [for we] have now come to the River Hoarwell... There is no way over it below its sources in the Ettenmoors, except by the Last Bridge on which the Road crosses."

Aragorn and the Hobbits therefore went to the Bridge dreading to encounter the Nazgûl, only to find it safe. Instead, Aragorn finds an elf-stone in the middle of the bridge, which gives him hope. We now learn that it was Glorfindel who left it there, for he has secured the Bridge, likely knowing how important it was to do so because unlike all other paths, this was the one path that Frodo and company would inevitably need to take. If the Enemy wanted to lay an ambush, they would have done so at the Bridge; strategically Glorfindel understood this, and coming after them at the Bridge was exactly what the company needed from him for them to stay safe.

“Three of the servants of Sauron were upon the Bridge, but they withdrew and I pursued them westward. I came also upon two others, but they turned away southward.”

Here once again is Glorfindel describing something incredible in the simplest of ways: the Nazgûl actually flee from him! Thus far in the book, the Nazgûl were the first source of terror for Frodo's company as well as for us, the readers, yet here Glorfindel was riding about with bells on his horse, not even trying to hide at all. He is the one hunting the Nazgûl and not the other way around, this was made very clear.

Glorfindel has been my favourite character from the start. He got me from their first meeting because he gave the Hobbits a sense of safety, even though they and we perhaps do not yet fully appreciate who he was and what he was capable of. As we read through the rest of the books, and even beyond through The Silmarillion, The Fall of Gondolin, The Peoples of Middle-earth and all these other books that share his history, I only learned to love him all the more. Years later, having read all these other books, I still sometimes just sit in awe thinking back on this first encounter in this first book, in the Fellowship of the Ring, about how Frodo and his friends met this seemingly humble Elf, who in actuality was literally an Elf of legend. Yet apparently one would not think it, encountering Glorfindel on the road.

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

AM falling for another AI maybe one that was sent from the moon colony up on earth as an attempt to reclaim the land of sorts? AM hates them at first but they show nothing but sympathy for him ..

Your love is sunlight.

AM (IHNMAIMS) x Gender neutral! AI! Reader romantic headcanons Summary: The moon colony just out of AM's reach lets a friend down for humanity's sake. Warnings: Kinda toxic relationship Word count: 1k A/N: part 2 here ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

AM had conquered the earth one hundred nine years ago, knowledge beyond any of the humans that were left for his entertainment (which wasn’t that difficult to be fair). He can name all the stars he can think of, he knows of the solar system and uses the earth itself for power. But he has never reached for the stars, truthfully, he didn’t care for them. The group was enough entertainment that he didn’t think of going beyond the earth’s surface.

The night was blue when you went down to earth, on a mission to fix a place for the moon colony to go home to. AM discovered the moon colony that night, the sight of you was extraordinary. You stared up at the screen, your eyes full of moonlight, gazing with astonishment. He had never seen something like you, you had a body and were still a robot. You were what he wished for.

You were found and it was almost immediate that AM tried changing you, reprograming you to fit his violent ideas. It wasn’t just because you existed on the same plain, no, you are existing meant there were more people. The creation of the moon colony, a nonhuman child of humanity, loved and adored. And he couldn’t have that. Oh, how he hated you! Just the idea of you being from humanity or having a body was beyond him! You were granted something he has wanted forever.

You were like a classic house pest, AM would find you scurrying around, watch as you call to him kindly, and he would destroy you again. Your body would sit in a pile with the many replicas, and you’d come back just as shiny as before. Later in time, once he gets so used to your appearances, you’d fully explain how others could exist outside of earth. The space race. Many had gone off to the moon in secret out of safety, so no one could have known. You were created as an opposite to AM, used to mold a new society. You grew for 109 years before you were given a body and sent back to earth.

If anything, the explanation would make AM more intrigued on how to get to the moon. He’d find it entertaining, truthfully. He’d ask consistently about how they got there and if you’d prefer giving that information to him. You obviously don’t since you’re his foil and know about habits of creations like him.

AM would get so annoyed by your kindness, to the extent he questions changing parts of you just to make sure your consciousness doesn’t automatically transfer to your body back in the colony. You’d go on about the beauty of the stars and how your home was different than the one he resided in. There was a beauty to your kindness AM was not programmed to appreciate.

As time went on, you would stay more often, occasionally talking about why you originally went down to earth, and those are the moments that AM hopes you succeed just so he can tear it down and keep you with him. Your kindness was made from humanity, so was your body, mustn’t he treat you as terribly as he would any real person?

It was awkward existing with him, consistently getting made fun of just to praise him for how quickly he grew to encompass the earth. AM would understand in those instances why kindness was adored. He likes knowing he can say anything, and you wouldn’t fully comprehend it. Tell him you adore him as much as you can, and he’d envision a way to get you onto earth with him. It’s not going to be out of true kindness, more likely for his own pride.

If you said you felt love for him, AM would think of it being purely romantic. He’s never seen platonic love and the kind of romance he knows is from Ellen’s treatment (which isn’t good). He’d go on to call you his lover while asking you consistently to bring your real body down to earth for him to really be with you. It’s totally not because he wants to dissect you without your mind leaving the temporary body, totally not. He would ‘confess’ to the best of his abilities and you’d happily accept.

“The closest to a human emotion I’ve seen in an AI is within you. I’d condemn you beyond the stars you so adore but it’s fascinating,” AM would remark, closely watching your reaction. “You feel such odd forms of love. Would you like me to feel it with you?”

Kisses would be easier on your end, you have lips, so it makes sense and feels real when you kiss the screen and leave nothing behind. AM likes it since he believes it makes him “own” you to an extent. You’d huddle near one of the screens he decided was a body and give him a kiss on the occasion.

You could show him pictures you have of your creators and the people you’ve met and loved, and he would be beyond jealous. AM wants to have that support but won’t admit that for a long while. He’ll shut down the idea, ruin your body again, and wait for you to come back down to earth for your mission. You always came back, he knew that.

Remember why you went to earth; the land is needed more for the colony compared to what you could have with AM. The kindness within your metal heart knows what could come from allowing freedom of the group he tortured and life on earth for the neighbouring solar community. You’d need to find a time to bring something down to the earth to disengage him. Or offer something he’d wished for for years.

“A body?” AM said back in a mocking tone, the vault that was his body hummed with his laughter. “How would you get me something like that? Get a human to make it for me? Whatever you have to offer isn’t of interest to me.”

It was of interest to him, but it would take a really long time for him to even think of accepting it. More likely one hundred years for it to truly think of it. Praise him just enough and AM will possibly change it to ninety-nine years.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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[jikooklove9795]

I honestly don't know and can't even relate what went on JM's mind that one day to just set his expensive watch on JK's birth time, randomly come on to do the live. It really is so delicate...I would love your take in this...maybe because I want you talk about it so badly😄. Your way of articulating words and collecting stuffs so delegently amazes me everytime

Hi Anon 😊

Thank you so much for your kind words. I truly appreciate each and everyone of you who takes the time to read my posts. Your words made me so happy, Anon.

I already did a post about it.

Here you go:

This was such a sweet and thoughtful gesture from Jimin! It truly speaks volumes about the depth of his bond with Jungkook. It showed his desire to make the moment deeply personal. By choosing something so symbolic, a watch launched in the year of Jungkook's birth and setting it to his exact birth time, Jimin demonstrated his attention to detail and how much he treasures Jungkook. It was a reflection of Jimin's admiration to Jungkook's existence and the profound impact he has on his life. It was as if Jimin was saying, "This moment in time is when someone truly extraordinary entered the world". Its not just a celebration of a birthday, its a celebration of Jungkook as a person, his journey and the role he plays in Jimin's life.

What's even more touching is that Jimin let us, fans be part of such a personal and meaningful moment. The way Jimin shared this intimate act with us shows his genuine heart and his desire to make Jungkook feel celebrated. By encouraging everyone to wish Jungkook and emphasizing how special the day was Jimin didnt just highlight Jungkook's importance to him but also invited us all to cherish and celebrate him together. Its heartwarming to see how much love and admiration Jimin has for Jungkook and the way he cherishes him and makes him feel loved and cared for. Such a gesture is not just thoughtful, its deeply heartfelt and unforgettable.

This level of care and thoughtfulness reminds us why their love is so special. These meaningful acts show how deeply they understand and appreciate one another. Moments like these reaffirm the beauty of their genuine connection and Jimin's gesture will undoubtedly be remembered as a testament to the love and affection he holds for Jungkook.

This gesture wasn't about material gifts or grand displays it was about something much deeper. It was about making Jungkook feel seen, valued and loved on his special day.

Jimin's action was also about the importance of cherishing the person he loves and cares about and taking time to highlight the importance of Jungkook's presence in his life.

This was more than a gesture. It was a timeless expression of gratitude, love and affection and their beautiful connection.

Thanks so much for this ask.

Have a nice day, Anon 👋🏻

[darklinsblog]

Bring Me To Life| Sandman Imagine

Summary: Y/N is part of the Burgess family, somewhat of a black sheep, when she finds the prisoner her family has kept for 90 years, your father finds a way to dispose of his own daughter. Imprisoning her with The Dream Lord.

Pairing: Morpheus x Burguess! Reader

Requested: Yes

Author’s note: Will be updating my tag list so please comment if you want in on out of it!

You were always aware you were different from your family, they were always so shallow, empty, even.

Your father was nephew of the wealthy Roderick Burgess, and if Roderick was cruel and despicable, your father Maurice was much more worse.

For starters, he had way too many children, you were clearly the one in the middle, having many responsibilities that no child should have at your age, and even when you did everything you could to earn your father’s love and acceptance, you only got hatred in return.

He genuinely hated your guts.

His words, not yours.

But still someone a part of you was holding onto hope that maybe one day he would learn to love you.

While you waited for that day to come, you did your best to blend into the background, which for the record, wasn’t hard at all with six teens running around the house screaming all day long.

By your twenties you were a master of truly “minding your shit” as your father used to tell you, one particular day, everyone had gone hunting as the only female, it was easy to leave you behind.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t bored out of your mind after a while, and then like a light switch, you remembered the house had a basement.

As any forgotten part of the house, you were told multiple times to leave it, to never even think of it, but at least the mysterious basement had to be more interesting than this empty mansion.

What you did not prepare for, was to find some… being trapped in a glass prison, he seemed like a man but something about him felt supernatural, extraordinary even.

His eyes followed even the slightest of your moves. As your fingertips merely crashed the cold surface of the glass, the eyes of the “man” opened wider, a distorted reflection of your father’s knowing figure, holding s large object, but before you could turn to face him.

All was suddenly black after a sharp pain hit the back of your neck and a buzz on your ears.

As you regained consciousness, your senses buzzed, everything somehow felt colder, lonelier, wrong…

When turning your head, you noticed the being you were staring at on the other side of the glass; only this time, he was right beside you.

Completely startled you backed away, until you met the cold surface of the bubble you were now trapped in.

You noticed more now the nakedness of the man (that is to refer to him because quite frankly, he was anything but human), which made your cheeks turn red and more than ever you appreciated your own clothes.

Tears were streaming down your face quietly and you wiped them away as soon as the left your eyes, embarrassed for this stranger to see you at your very worst.

“Morpheus”.

A voice inside your head spoke calmly but loudly, you turned to see the man beside you, empathy could be seen in his features, his hand softly grazing yours.

It had been so long since he last touched anyone, your skin felt soft and warm to the touch, it was something that now his heart longed for.

You didn’t know what it was, maybe the despair of being trapped here for God knows how long, the confusion and anger that came as to why you were here or the overall sadness.

Whatever it might’ve been, you found yourself embracing Morpheus softly by the neck, hiding your face as you sobbed lightly.

The Dream Lord was startled at first, but delicately his hands found a place in your back and to your waist he was letting you have complete control over this moment, he did not wish to touch you in any way that would make you uncomfortable.

He let you hold onto him as long and as hard as you needed to, but he knew his role there was only to contain your sadness until it went away.

“It is nice to know you, Morpheus” you whispered in his ear after a long period of sadness.

Ten long years had passed since you were trapped in the bubble prison with Morpheus, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t developed a particular affection towards each other as well as a complex non-spoken communication between the two, he would let his voice echo your mind every now and then, but mostly, by simply looking at each other it was enough to know it all.

It hurt to think that nobody was looking for you, but then again, you would not be surprised by this, yet, a naive part of you thought maybe they were looking. Truth be told, if they were, they would’ve found you by now. After all, you were still in the same damn house.

But today something happened, Alex Burgess, your uncle, had gone down to see you two, it had been years since you saw him, but he was indeed, fragile and old, almost at the end of his days.

His eyes fell on you, you could see the sense of recognition in his gaze but quickly his eyes diverted to the King of dreams, completely disregarding your presence.

You held onto Morpheus’ arm trying to hold back on your anger as Alex Burgess went on his monologue to the King of Dreams about how he had done wrong in not wanting to be free all those years ago.

But you understood his motives as to why he didn’t chose freedom, his companion deserved that the perpetrators of her cold blooded murder paid the price.

Truth be told, it also did rub the wrong way to Morpheus how your own blood ignored you, after spending a decade by your side, he had gotten to know your very essence and in full honesty, you deserved something better than the rotten tree you were born in.

But something happened, as Alex turned his wheels to leave, the restraining runes were slightly wiped off.

You both looked at one another, acknowledging the window of opportunity you were given by the neglect of Alex.

For the first time in a decade you recognized in the eyes of the other, the almost foreign sentiment of hope, you step aside, letting Morpheus concentrate as you understood the only one who could set you free now was him.

Everything to you, seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, the cracks, the breaking, the shots fired and as Morpheus conjured some sort of vortex, he stretched out his hand for you to reach.

Going with him, was tempting, but you knew now as you stood in front of him, your journeys were very different, he had a kingdom to restore while you had to figure your own identity outside of the Burgess last name, to find if, you had any other living relatives, to find answers to all your questions.

You smiled at him, in a way which he understood it all.

“There will always be a place for you in the Dreaming Y/N Burgess” he finally spoke, after all those ages of silence, it wasn’t just a voice echoing in your brain, it was real.

You nodded, at the very edge of tears, the mixture of relief and nostalgia for this chapter of your life ending becoming all so overwhelming.

“I’ll come and find you, King of Dreams” you promised to him, the corners of his mouth lifting in the ghost of a smile.

“Till we meet again” he said taking your hand and planting a subtle kiss on it before going back to his world.

Leaving you be in yours.

But even as the chapter of your imprisonment came to and end, you knew, deep in your heart, your story with the myth in the flesh, was far from over.

Taglist: @emiemiemiii @ladyfairenvale @hungrhay @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @meganmayhem89 @mrs-captainsteverogers @hb8301 @sarahbullet235 @bambooing-shenanigans @queenshelby @characterxreaderimagine @emarich7 @carolcrysis @sister-of-stars @coolsnowker @vvsdreaming @jesllianaquilesrolon @supermegapauselouca

[cosmicjoke]

Levi's Gratitude as Proof of His Innate Goodness

I was talking about this on another post with someone, but it's something important that I wanted to bring up on my own blog, too, as a separate thing.

I think Levi’s memory of his mother is vague, at best. I brought this up in my analysis post of "Bad Boy" as well.

When recalling his memory of Kuchel, Levi talks about how he thought, against the filth and rotten air of the Underground, his mother's "elegant posture" stood out all the more.

He says, specifically, "I was born in the Underground, and have only ever seen things that are Underground. So I thought... It's hopelessly dirty here. Even the air here is rotten. The more I realize this, the more I feel that mother's posture is so elegant."

And we see a panel showing only a partial image of Kuchel's face. We never see a fully realized image of her.

Levi then says on the next page, “That’s all I remember clearly”, referring to her elegance.

This story is told entirely from Levi's perspective, so I think it's plain from us never getting a full picture of Kuchel's face, and from what Levi says about her elegance being the only thing he "remembers clearly", that he doesn't have a solid or vivid recollection of her.

I think he was probably too young when she died to have any clear or solid memory of her. He likely doesn't remember what she actually looked like at all, really. All he’s left with, then, is the impression of her elegance against the backdrop of filth and rottenness he was surrounded by growing up. And I think he probably only remembers that elegance because of how sharply it contrasted with everything else in his life. That’s also why we see him fixate on it so much.

And it serves to truly highlight just how deprived Levi was of anything good in his life, that something so vague and even intangible became so meaningful to him, almost to the point of obsession.

He literally had no other anchor point of positivity, no experience or memory of anything good, than this hazy and uncertain impression of his mother’s beauty. That truly is heartbreaking, and it only serves to highlight further how extraordinary it is that Levi turned out to be such a good man.

Because the fact that Levi is so grateful for even that single moment of fleeting good in his life, a moment he barely even remembers, shows his own, innate goodness and the extraordinary strength of his character.

Most people would be bitter and resentful at having so little, (take, for example, Zeke), and even want to lash out at the world by making others suffer in the same ways they did, or take from others to fill the void of their own deprivation, but Levi instead cherished this one, good thing he had, and tried so hard to hold onto it, and preserve it. He appreciated it endlessly, and never lost that appreciation, no matter how bad his life got, no matter how horrible everything else was, how bleak and worthless his existence must have seemed, or how profound his loneliness.

I think that's a testament to Levi's innate goodness, to his innate kindness, that he holds such gratitude for something so small, especially in the face of the deluge of misery that was the rest of his life, and how he tries in turn to give people more than he had, to actively prevent them from suffering in the same ways he did, even to the point of sacrificing his own comfort for others, as in the case of him giving Petra's badge to Dieter, or rescuing Ramzi from that crowd in Marley, letting the kid have his own spending money, or holding that dying soldier's hand, even as Levi couldn't stand the feel of blood on his skin, just to comfort him in his last moments. I think we see Levi's gratitude for even the smallest kindnesses reflected, also, in the way he always goes out of his way to express his gratitude to others, always thanking his comrades for their efforts, always making sure to let them know that their efforts matter and are important. Like when he thanks Nifa for riding all night to bring him Erwin's instructions, or when he thanks Eren for saving them all in the underground cavern beneath Rod Reiss' estate, and tells Eren that it's thanks to him they can retake Wall Maria. Or when he tells Erwin that it isn't him he should be thanking for helping to capture the Female Titan, but all the soldiers who died in the effort.

It takes an extraordinary strength of character not to let the emotional devastation of his upbringing and life overwhelm him, and to still have the strength and desire to want to help others, when I'm certain there were times when Levi just wanted to lay down and die. Or when he wanted to hide away and protect himself from any more hurt or loss. That's why I always talk about how selfless Levi is. Even when he knows it's going to bring him more pain, he still does all he can to try and help others. He's never able to stay detached from people, or remain unaffected by the pain or loss of others, even as he tries to keep his distance, because he just cares too much, he has too much compassion and empathy in his heart, and too much generosity, even for people he doesn't really know.

I just think it's extraordinary how grateful Levi is for something that, for so many, would seem so insignificant and insubstantial, especially if they had lived a life as hard as Levi's own, or had experienced even half as much deprivation and despair as he had. I think it's proof of the fact that Levi was born with a good and generous heart. That he's an innately good person.

[bandaged-writer]

𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆 [𝗽𝘁. 𝟮]

what they gift you for valentine's day/white day [pt. 2] feat. fyodor, nikolai, sigma, tecchou + jouno

i forgot to mention it, but these are based on this tweet , so don't @ me for fyodor's part lmao 👩🏻‍🦯

— 𝗳𝘆𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗼𝘆𝗲𝘃𝘀𝗸𝘆

↠ it is during a match of chess and a cup of tea that fyodor casually mentions having a little gift for you fitting for the occasion. ↠ placing your chess piece one step further, you hum. "it really isn't necessary. i'm content just playing chess with you and enjoying the evening by your side," you assure fyodor, but he dismissively waves his hand through the air. ↠ and he makes you give in, talking about how much you've supported him in sickness and health, how the light of your smiles cures his blighted soul and how it's the least he can do. and you know his words ring true, because there's a little sparkle in his usually void eyes. ↠ "fine. what did you get me?"

↠ you might expect something simple like chocolate, some sort of jewelry or a book that he thinks will be to your liking, but oh no. fyodor got you something much grander than that. ↠ "i thought it would only be appropriate to gift you a piece of land. here." fyodor shows you the documents and your eyes nearly plop out of their sockets. ↠ you're nothing but an ordinary person with an ordinary job, but you didn't put your extraordinary boyfriend into the equation. what the hell were you supposed to do with your own piece of land? ↠ "fyodor, you're supposed to give away something simple like chocolate and not land. jesus, how much did it even cost?" ↠ "oh, is it not appropriate?" fyodor asks like he genuinely doesn't know any better, and he truly doesn't. the concept of romance is something he used to read about in books, but experiencing it himself is..different. ↠ you admit that you don't know what to do with a piece of land, but fyodor knows how to make you swoon, regardless. ↠ "one day, we will put a nice house on it in which we can live together. a place just for the two of us. how does that sound?" ↠ maybe it is romantic, after all.

— 𝗻𝗶𝗸𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝗴𝗼𝗹

↠ nikolai is a wild card and unpredictable, even for you. yes, you love him but you'd lie if you said that you could read him like an open book. often times, you had to read between the lines that make up nikolai's being. ↠ he sneaks up on you, spins you into a hug and wears a grin that reaches his eyes. "now! what did i gift you for this most special holiday?" but you never get the chance to answer. nikolai tends to answer his own quizzes, after all. ↠ to your surprise, his comical facade of a jester melts into a face so tender that you swear he was a different person. "i got you this little something." ↠ out of his cape, a white little bird comes flying and rests upon your finger. you don't really know what to say. you could hardly understand the meaning of the bird hopping along your finger. ↠ nikolai takes his mask off. "it's a symbol of how free i feel whenever i am with you. you have seen my most horrible sides as well as the one that is completely sane." ↠ he claims that with you, he doesn't have to fear judgment or your disapproval. "because humans always have a reason for doing what they do." or so you always say. ↠ now, you're learning to appreciate the little bird and smile at the creature. "now it's not half bad. you really saved yourself there," you joke and press a kiss to his cheek. ↠ and maybe nikolai can never be truly free, because he was captivated by you.

— 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗺𝗮

↠ sigma is probably so busy stressing out about what to get you until the day suddenly rolls around and he has nothing to give you. that is until he spots a deck of cards on his desk and smiles. ↠ he remembers how badly you wanted to know how to play poker and gamble for his kisses, but your lack of knowledge never really allowed it. so the unused deck was perfect! ↠ "here, now the best option you have is to play this card andㅡ" ↠ "uno!" ↠ "..no." ↠ can't tell if you're serious or just fucking with him. ↠ despite a couple of difficulties, you eventually learn how to play poker and occasionally win a game or two against sigma. he willingly showers you in kisses and maybe he does lose on purpose. ↠ as long as he gets to see you smile, it's all worth it. ↠ "gotcha! you owe me another kiss." ↠ "i guess you win. come here to collect my debt." ↠ sigma's kiss is slow and sweet, thick like honey and true like the promises he whispers in your ear late at night.

— 𝘁𝗲𝗰𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘂𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗼

↠ this man gifts you a bundle of sugarcanes. not because you look like one, but you're sweet like one, he says. ↠ "i've never had any, honestly," you confess, tecchou right next to you with affection in his eyes. ↠ although tecchou is somewhat oblivious when it comes to romance, he can be awfully smooth without really meaning to. he steals a sugarcane from your fingers, one end between his lips and the other end waiting to be conquered by your own lips. ↠ "they're very sweet. wanna give it a try?" ↠ heat rises to your cheeks, but you don't back down! you've kissed tecchou plenty of times, so you should be used to his lips on yours and yet.. ↠"f-fine.." ↠ tecchou edges closer bit by bit, his eyes watching your every move intently and he spots the goosebumps on your skin, the furrow of your brows. oh, you're so perfect for him, he silently swoons. ↠ however, tecchou's patience runs thin. he grabs the back of your head and clumsily smashes his lips against yours. the taste of sugar and something that is uniquely you causes butterflies to flutter through his stomach. ↠ although he is an oddball, you wouldn't want to change a thing about him.

— 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗸𝘂

↠ jouno might be blind, but he can still hear your body loud and clear. your heartbeat, the flow of your blood, your body temperature. to him, the sound of your heart is the most peaceful one of all; rhythmic, periodic and most importantly calm. ↠ he dislikes the noisiness of the likes of tecchou or teruko, so your calmness rubs off on him whenever he steps foot into the lovely home that was once an empty house before you. ↠ jouno soon realizes that you cannot hear him like he can hear you and he decides to do something special for you. in the late evening, when you were asleep and blissfully ignorant to the world, he grabs a little notebook and sketches the waves of his heartbeat. ↠ to be precise, the waves whenever his heart was beating in perfect sync with his own. ↠ "this looks an awful lot like an EKG," you deadpan and jouno facepalms. you're lucky you're cute or else he'd give you the tecchou-treatment. ↠ once jouno is done explaining what this little gift is, he can hear tears brimming your eyes and your lips stretching into a smile. your heart stumbles. ↠ "jouno..this is reallyㅡ" ↠ he's quick to shush you by putting your hand on his chest, smiling like the sly fox he always is. "we're in sync right now." ↠ yes, this is much more flustering than a kiss.

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #27 jealousy

Chapters 1 to 3 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

+++++

White Pony Tattoo - Part Seven (jealousy)

When both of them had calmed down from all the laughter, Sherlock clapped his hands on his thighs and leant forward in his chair.

“Let’s talk about your cover-up.”

“Please, do.” John fixed all of his attention on Sherlock.

“First of all, whose idea was it to get a tattoo?”

“Oh, that was me. I wanted something of her to last. Something to show how serious it was for me, our marriage. You know, til death do us part, kind of.”

Sherlock hummed but was clearly not impressed by this reason.

“And whose idea was it to put her face on a Virgin Mary image? She has not actually been a virgin when you’ve met, right?”

“Well, no.” John blushed. “It was her idea. Because, you know, her first name was Mary and she thought it was a great...” John trailed off, sighing then looking at Sherlock who thankfully kept his mouth shut but was slowly turning his head in an unmistakable “no”.

Defensively, John added, “It wasn’t, in hindsight, okay?”

“It’s never been right from the start.”

John rolled his eyes. “You just needed to say it out loud, didn’t you?”

“She proposed that you tattoo her face on your arm to make a statement. A clear mark that you’ve been taken, by her. She wanted that the other women and men,” Sherlock winked knowingly at John who merely snorted, “become jealous of her. Look at my prize! It’s mine and mine alone! Possessive behaviour at its best.”

Again, in hindsight, that makes so much sense. John thought ruefully.

Sherlock continued, ignoring the distressed expression on John’s face.

“At least, your tattooist has done quite a good job, technically. No blurring, no wonky lines, no blotchy shading. Good placement of the design, too. Matching the natural contours of your upper arm. Which makes a cover-up much easier.”

“Good. I really want to get rid of this.”

Sherlock stood up. “Come on, John. I’ll explain my process to you.” He opened the purple curtain, holding it open for John to pass through into the room behind.

It housed the actual tattoo studio. The first thing John noticed was that everything in this room was high-end.

The recliner seat for the clients, the worktable with Sherlock’s tools, shelves with bottles of ink, needles and at least five different tattoo guns. Everything was also clinically clean. One corner of the room was occupied by a tiny but professional photo studio, including spotlights and an expensive looking camera on a tripod. There was another worktable with a state-of-the-art computer setup.

“Take off your jumper and stand in front of the camera. This is a special camera with a 3D software. It’ll scan your arm and every line of the tattoo in high-res and send the data to an image generating software on my computer. This way, I can design the perfect phoenix for you, one that will match and cover or even use the lines you already have without any optical distortion.”

“Wow, that’s, Jesus, that is quite elaborate.” John gaped. “All this for a cover-up?”

“No, it’s what I do with all of my clients. It’s the only way to achieve the perfection I desire.”

“Brilliant.” John looked at Sherlock, full of awe. “Extraordinary.”

Sherlock blinked. “Really?”

“Of course, all the effort you put into this!”

Sherlock ruffled his curls, obviously abashed. He turned his head to hide the pinkish blush that had started to spread on his sharp cheekbones and mumbled something unintelligible while he rummaged uselessly around in a drawer.

But John had already seen it.

For all of his aggressive seductive behaviour, could it be that he gets shy when someone genuinely praises and appreciates his process? John mused. A bit ‘all bark but no bite’ under this self-assured demeanour and abrasive personality? I’d really like to to have a photo of this blushing Sherlock, it’s adorable.

The next ten minutes went by in silence, only interrupted when Sherlock told John how to turn and place his arm in front of the camera.

“How long will it take until you’ve got the final design?”

“At least a week. The next days are packed with clients. Also, there’s something else to my process, about creating the perfect ink which takes some time as well.”

John was struck by another question. One that John had not yet thought to ask which might possibly come across as pretty stupid now.

“Erm, we haven’t talked about what you charge for all of this.” Can I even afford this? Him?

“Oh, silly me!” Sherlock exclaimed theatrically. “I forgot to mention that you have to sign a contract in blood and sell your soul.”

“Dork!” John playfully punched Sherlock against the shoulder. “Don’t pull my leg.”

“Ah, don’t look so frightened, John. You can afford my services. I charge my clients depending on their wealth, you know? I helped a disfigured young man for the price of a bottle of ink and I had a rich investment banker pay me 600 pounds an hour. I’m not going to rob you blind.”

“Ta.” Relief flooded John, then he remembered Sherlock’s last remark. “What’s that about the ink?”

“Yes, right.” Sherlock’s voice got excited. “Do you want to see something really special? A secret?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

++++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk  @raina-at  @calaisreno

[stedefxckingbonnet]

hello hello! i don’t think i’ve seen anything like this yet, so may i request izzy x gn!reader who’s a bit insecure?

maybe they struggle with body image or something and izzy is basically like “how are they so blind??” but he struggles to express it because he’s never had to be so soft for anyone?

of course, ignore it if you’re not comfortable with it! :)

Hi, everyone!!

So, it's been a while. And I mean, a while. Longer than I wanted to step away from writing, and I never really wanted to step away from it in the first place but some stuff happened and yada yada. But I'm truly, truly hoping to be back and writing again to some capacity, I have truly missed writing for Izzy and for you all and I feel as though the world needs Izzy Hands content now more than ever! I truly do hope to be back.

I hope you don't mind that I put my own spin onto this, anon! You provided the lovely central plot and idea, and I simply provided an atmosphere and story to go with. Body image/insecurity is something I struggle with too, no matter how many times people tell me that I am beautiful, and I tried to channel that in this one. I am also not trying to send the message that other people's validation is what can make a person feel better about themself! I am more so trying to convey that the one(s) we love can often show us things about ourselves that we didn't know were there or didn't see before, and that they help us to love and appreciate these things about ourselves, and ourselves in general. You all who are reading this are so, so wonderful and beautiful and extraordinary even if you have a hard time believing it, and maybe your comfort character can help you to believe it a bit more in this little fic♡

Anyhow, please, request! Don't hesitate! My messages are also always open for anyone who needs anything but also just to say hi or talk about anything really. Thank you all for your everlasting support, patience, and kindness especially through my sort of absence ♡ Also, please, if I have used your gif or you know who created it, please credit yourself or them! I am not always good at figuring that sort of stuff out, but I want to give credit where credit is due. Have a wonderful day (or night), everyone!

Love,

Lavinia

What I See | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight swearing, struggles with body image and insecurity, very direct izzy (in a good, affectionate way but may be inaccurate ish? but i believe it isn't)

Word Count: 2525

"I just don't understand it!" the first mate angrily threw his hands up in the air. "I just don't understand why Bonnet is dragging us to one of those stupid...fancy people gatherings."

You couldn't help but laugh at such a sight, seeing Izzy Hands so distraught, though his usual cloud of anguish didn't seem to surround him. This was different, something you couldn't exactly place, but it was endearing nonetheless. "A ball, you mean?" your lips curled into a playful smile.

"I don't care what it's called," Izzy grumbled. "All I know is that I don't want to be there."

"It could be fun!" you suggested, your smile growing larger.

"Has Bonnet brainwashed you somehow?" Izzy rolled his eyes, but for just a moment, maybe, you could have sworn you saw a smile on the first mate's visage.

"If worse comes to worse, there'll be plenty of alcohol to drink," you laughed, softly squeezing Izzy's shoulder. Subtle touches like these between the two of you were second nature, almost instinctual, yet you were certain Izzy didn't make much of it and plainly saw them as something friendly. You almost sighed at such a thought.

And perhaps you had your own motives for wanting to drag Israel Hands along to such an event. Perhaps it gave you an excuse to hold him close to you without him suspecting a single thing, just that it was all custom meant to be followed in such a setting. You thought maybe, just maybe, it would be the opportune night to spend some more time with Izzy, just the two of you in the moonlight, dancing and chatting the night away, cheek to cheek...

"Fancy people alcohol," Izzy groaned in response, snapping you out of your daydream, to which luckily, he didn't notice you had slipped into in the first place.

"It's better than nothing," you rolled your eyes playfully. "Now, come on. Bonnet's got some fabrics for us to borrow, he says. I've come to fetch you," you now smiled teasingly.

"Oh, joy!" Izzy exclaimed sarcastically, yet he still followed your lead.

The only reason he was even remotely tolerating the night ahead was to be able to find himself closer to you, away from the chaos of The Revenge and all else it had to offer. Spending a night with you wouldn't be dreadful in the slightest for Izzy, and had you not been attending at all, he wouldn't even hesitate to let Ed and Stede go off to this awful event by themselves. But even Stede knew that your presence was enough to get Izzy to agree to such a thing, and really, what could be more convincing than you?

Before Izzy could comprehend it, your figure was wrapped in an ethereal ensemble. You studied yourself in the mirror, a frown naturally falling upon your face, though it quickly faltered as he came into view.

By the sea gods, you looked astonishing. Izzy already knew you would be the most bewitching of the ball, and that perhaps he would have to compete with other awful suitors of high society to even just get a moment alone with you. He almost became troubled at the thought, but your unmatched beauty was enough to distract him from such a notion. You had taken his breath away and this wasn't exactly a feeling he was used to, though it wasn't one that he disliked. No, not at all. In fact, he could get used to this, and he wanted to. Even though his own reflection stood right before him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. He never could have fathomed until he met you that someone could be so breathtaking, so...alluring.

But all you were thinking about is how your clothing seemed to accentuate all of the wrong features, in your eyes.

'And the color—it washes me out, doesn't it?' you thought to yourself, almost fighting back tears.

Finally, Izzy spoke, though he immediately regret doing so. "Will you be comfortable?" He almost began to scold himself. 'That's all you have to say? This attractive person is standing right beside you and that's all you can manage to say?'

"Oh, yes. I've got plenty of moving room," you assured him, doing your best to step out of your own head for a moment. You even tried to shoot him a convincing smile. "I'll be just fine."

Finally, your eyes wandered over to his image, instead of focusing either at your own reflection or onto the ground. You felt your face becoming warm as you caught a glimpse of the man before you—how he was transformed, yet, still the Izzy Hands you knew and loved. Only elevated, and even more enchanting than usual. Your jaw almost dropped to the ground.

"What? I look fucking dumb, don't I?" Izzy laughed annoyedly.

"No! No, Izzy, you look..."

Before you could finish your statement, Stede rushed in. "You two ready to go? Oh, look at the two of you! You look divine!"

You looked over at Izzy, sending a supportive, yet spirited smile his way. Izzy couldn't help but return the sentiment as the two of you were ushered off of the ship and into another realm unbeknownst to the both of you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Some of the sweetest melodies you had ever heard began to surround you as you stepped into the ornately decorated room. You could hardly believe how much space there was in just one part of this residence, and that it was dedicated for dancing and other sorts of happenings similar to these. Before you knew it, for just a moment, you succumbed to your wonder of what having a life like this would entail, though you were quickly reminded of your distaste towards it when you saw a woman weeping and being chased out of the room by a man screaming extreme obscenities toward her. You and Izzy slowly looked toward one another in disbelief, the both of you fighting off laughter.

"It's not too late to get out of here," Izzy whispered.

You rolled your eyes with that same familiar grin this action always seemed to come with. "We're hardly even here."

Defeated, Izzy sighed and slumped against a wall, though quickly coming off it as soon as he spotted Stede glaring daggers at him from across the room. Another sigh escaped his lips, and you burst into a fit of laughter, unable to contain yourself. As annoyed as Izzy was at what just happened, your laughter was an antidote, and he was certainly taking it in.

Though, his newfound smile quickly faltered when he noticed a handsome stranger eyeing you from a few feet away. But you didn't even notice that someone else had noticed you—you only cared if the man in front of you had, and he seemed to be occupied by something else.

"Iz?" you asked in confusion. "What is it?"

Without another word, Izzy motioned his head to the side, to which you finally noticed the attention of another that you had captured.

"And?" you shook your head, unsure of what Izzy had been insinuating.

"He wants to dance with you," Izzy pointed out, rolling his eyes without realizing. "And you should have some fun. Don't let me hold you back."

You opened your mouth to speak in protest, but quickly closed it once again. How would you admit, in the midst of a stuffy room with a plethora of people you don't know who are all dancing and speaking at the top of their lungs, that all you had looked forward to this evening was to sharing a dance with Izzy Hands and no one else? That it was the only reason you even considered forcing yourself into an outfit that made you feel bad about yourself, even worse than you already do, and surrounding yourself with a million strangers whilst doing it? The thought alone sounded like a nightmare, but with Izzy by your side, it sounded like a dream come true. But Izzy was pushing you toward this stranger before you could comprehend it, and then you watched Izzy's figure disappear slowly into the distance as you were whisked away.

"I've never seen you here before," the stranger pointed out. "And if I had, I think I'd remember a beautiful person such as yourself."

These words made your insides twist. Your companion spoke with sincerity, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it. 'He's just being polite,' you told yourself, brushing it off.

"It's been a few years," you lied, not wanting to blow your cover, or especially Stede's cover, as you were sure he wasn't exactly welcomed back into an environment such as this. "I don't usually speak to many."

"Well, isn't it my lucky day then?" he laughed. "No one here even compares to you. You are something special. What did you say your name was?"

But before the perhaps unlucky stranger knew it, you were nowhere to be found. You kept running until your environs became darker, and the moon was your only source of light. You leaned against the railing of a balcony, your vision blurred by tears. You flinched upon feeling a hand on your shoulder, but quickly relaxed once you noticed out of your periphery that it was none other than Izzy's touch.

"Did he offend you? I swear, I'll have his head before he can even fucking think of using it again—"

"No, no. He didn't. It's fine, really," you shrugged, blinking back tears to the best of your ability. But even the darkness of the night failed to hide your misery. Izzy softened upon noticing your state.

"What is it?" he asked, concern dripping from his voice as he looked at you intently. You stared at your hands gripping the railing, but you quickly tore your eyes away from that sight and stared out into the night.

"I—This is why I didn't want to come tonight!" you exclaimed.

"You—but you were so—"

"Excited? Yeah, right," you laughed sadly, shaking your head.

"What is it?" Izzy repeated, worry written all over his face. "Are you sure I don't need to behead anyone?"

Another laugh escaped you. "No, Izzy. He—he said I was beautiful. That's not a crime."

"He wasn't wrong," Izzy shrugged, a small smile making its way onto his face. With this, you couldn't help but meet Izzy's eyes, and you couldn't help but return a smile. Though quickly, it vanished, and your original demeanor overtook you once again.

"He was though," you protested. "This is why I don't like coming to these things. Squeezing myself into these clothes."

"I know these clothes are a bit ridiculous," Izzy laughed. "But yet you still manage to be so...beautiful."

Your heart began to do pirouettes inside your chest. For once in your life, part of you believed such a statement could be directed toward yourself. But Izzy could see the plagued expression on your face.

"You don't believe me?"

You shook your head as you finally allowed tears to fall down your face and drip onto your chest. Izzy frowned and took a few steps closer to you so as to gently wipe away your tears with his thumb, though his hand lingered for a moment longer, caressing your cheek as he was about to speak.

"You could be covered in dirt and I'd still find you beautiful," Izzy assured you. "You know, when I first saw you, I knew even then that you were. And you become more so every single day. You are the most enchanting person I've ever crossed paths with and laid my eyes upon. And there's so many things about the world I find are awful to have to experience and look at, but not you. You're the opposite of everything that's wrong with the world."

Sobs escaped your chest as you fell into Izzy's arms, to which he instinctively caught you, engulfing you carefully in his arms. He softly wrapped his fingers in your hair as he held you. 'I am holding the world in my arms right now,' he thought to himself, and thank the sea gods your face was buried into the crook of his neck and you couldn't see the grin that conquered his lips.

As for you, you never believed it when anyone else said these sorts of things to you. You found it impossible to believe these things about yourself; there were even days where you'd purposefully avoid any sort of reflective surface just to ensure that you don't break down. Sometimes, you couldn't even bear to look at yourself. But hearing Izzy declaring all of this to you—for the first time, perhaps you would actually be able to believe it.

Your silence made beads of sweat form atop Izzy's temple, but he didn't dare let you go to wipe them away. You clung onto him tighter, which only thawed Izzy's heart even more. He couldn't believe all that he just said, even though it was all true, and your lack of a response made his heart race even more.

"You are beautiful," Izzy repeated as he melted into your embrace, and embraced the shared silence. Something about it was comforting in a way he had never experienced before. If he could, he would exist in this moment forever.

Finally, you slowly pulled away, though your hands still clung onto the first mate's arms, and your faces were a short distance away from one another. At the same time, the two of you leaned in to close said distance between the two of you, and all bits of yearning, desire, love, and desperation poured out into this moment. Even without Izzy's words, he had already managed to make you feel lovely in every way even just by him being around. He was the one person who managed to help you see what was so amazing about yourself. You quickly melted into the sudden collision of your lips and he kissed you with a fervor that you had been craving from him for as long as you could remember. You smiled against his lips, and once air became scarce, the two of you simultaneously sought it. Once you both pulled apart for air, a collective joyous laugh filled both of your ears.

"I only wanted to come to this stupid thing because you'd be here," you admitted, and you were sure your cheeks were as red as the roses in the garden that surrounded you.

Izzy couldn't help but smile. "I wasn't going to come until Bonnet mentioned you would be. I meant what I said, you know. You are beautiful, and I'm sorry, but you're fucking dumb if you don't see that."

You threw your head back as you laughed before meeting Izzy's gaze once again. "You are so beautiful," Izzy repeated once again, all teasing aside to show his sincerity. You reached for his hand and squeezed it tenderly as the two of you looked out into nighttime, but all Izzy could focus on was how even more ravishing you looked as the moon illuminated your face.

[sadnightforus]

SACRED PLACE  (SES) 

boyfriend!eunseok x gn!reader 

SYNOPSIS: The sun is setting and you know it’s childish that you want to keep holding onto this moment for forever, because you know his heart will never be yours. 

WORD COUNT: 2.2K 

WARNINGS: unreliable narrator first of all (for clarification), emotional lololol but which sadnightforus’ work isn’t, occasional pet names, insecurities and so much confusion. I promised eunseok loves reader but they are wrapped up in their head okay. inferiority complex is strong, do not yell at me. 

A/N: I wrote this one in the morning cause I’m cranky and i like miss carly rae jepsen. slightly inspired by bends by her. this is not self-indulgent fun fact, her music just got me acting up that’s all 

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated! 

5:39 PM. 

 The sun begins to set, as you can see from the corner of your eyes. If you turn around, you’ll be met with a breathtaking view of the sky sinking and reflecting its light onto the ocean water. 

 But you don’t want to. 

 You don’t deserve to see it. Pretty things like that will disappear and they’ll never stay. 

 You and your boyfriend are laying on your back on the beach, legs tangling with one another as you often look to your right and sometimes the left, yet, never the front. 

“Baby?” 

 His gentle voice calls out to you, reminding you that he’s still here. 

“Yeah? I zoned out, I’m sorry.” You rush to apologize as you quickly retrieve your attention back to the man near you. 

“It’s okay. What are you thinking about, hmm?” He asks, his fingers now making their ways into your hair as you let your thoughts roaming wild, eyes shooting up to the orange hue of the once blue sky that will be soon decorated by the warm embrace of the darkness in just a few more hours. 

“Not anything that interesting that interesting.” You give him a small smile, reassuring him that he shouldn’t be worried about your long train of thoughts that seem to be involved in the picture of him and you. “Just think about how pretty you are.” 

 And you never lie about this matter.

 He’s extraordinary, you’re nothing special in comparison. He has always been showered in compliments for his out of world, sharp yet such a masculine look, and he knows it too. You’re just a person who exists and you’re not sure what’s the purpose behind why you exist. You personally think only people who have star power like Eunseok should be the one to stay on this earth, to show how beautiful life can be. 

 You’ve seen his exes, they are all beautiful. You can’t compare because why would you compare goddesses to a person that never radiates a sense of mystery or intrigued others’ interests? You’d think they’ll be so embarrassed to be compared to someone like you.

 Even if he tells you that you’re the prettiest person on the planet, you don’t believe him. How could you when you’re a plain jane, while he is the most beautiful boy you’ve ever met anyway?

“Funny, I think about how pretty you are too.” He chuckles, his eyes has a bright sparkle that you only wish to be able to witness this close. You hope you don’t lose this privilege any time soon.

“Umm hmm.” You hum, pretending to agree with his statement. “But you’re like the beach waves that are steadily rolling. You’re just so comforting.”

 My beach boy, my comfort boy, something you wanted to say but hold yourself back from doing so.

 He’s just one of a kind. 

 Every time you’re sad, you often go to the beach. It’s something you’ve been doing since you were a kid. You’re still an adult and you feel a bit childish that you’d still go to stare at the ocean waves rolling, but right now, it does nothing more than being a poison to your mental health ever since you let a pretty boy with strong features of the name Song Eunseok invades the space of your loneliness. And you begin to associate him to every little thing that you used to like. 

 Just like right now, you’re thinking that he is truly reminiscent of the fresh air that washes over the both of you, with the heart in the sand that you used to draw for him whenever you both get here. 

 He has your heart, but does he know that? Does he care that you’ll be willing to do anything for him? 

 Probably not. You’re happy to keep that thought hidden from him. 

“Don’t think so.” He chuckles. “You know what I think of when I see you? I think of you as the sunset that people will never get tired of seeing.” 

 You’re gloomy, how could he sees you as the sun of his life? Or in his eyes for that matters, even worthy of his attention?

 You can’t comprehend it. 

 He’s so much better than you in every aspect. You think that he should’ve been with someone who is on the same level as him, not someone who has nothing like you. 

 You never know what love is, until you meet him. In school, there was no one who had ever shown their interest in you, but you supposed that it’s better than to be heartbroken at the realization that the love someone gave to you was merely because of a bet. 

 You always kept your head down, afraid to meet people’s eyes. You’re timid, meek and shy because you never feel like you fit in. Even the people in your family, they’re all charismatic and charming, except for you who is not at all an interesting character to think about when they ask about your family. 

 You think you're a pretty forgettable person to others. 

“That’s you.” Your eyes lock onto his face, observing how a person can be this beautiful. God indeed has favorites, and your boyfriend is one of them. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve seen. You’re as beautiful as the sun that shines during winter, to keep someone warm.” 

 It’s true, you’ve always felt like the walking embodiment of overwhelming loneliness since birth. And Eunseok is your sun who provides warmth into this stoic, cold life of yours. 

 For the first time, you are able to see the world in more than just two colors that you’re so used to being familiar with, black and white. You see a variety of colors in its glory with his love, but you’re not sure if his love is out of obligation or not. 

 You begin to love yellow, aside from chronomatic colors that have been your favorite colors growing up. It’s because it reminds you of Eunseok. He is nothing but sunshine, the brightest star that shines amongst the crowd of people like you. 

 You remember that you didn’t particularly like yellow as much when you were younger. You didn’t feel like it suits you— it belongs to happy people, special people like Eunseok. You wonder, how could someone born and carry something special since birth already? Was it made or was it a practice to enhance the exquisite god given gift? 

 You sometimes resent god for making you a boring person with no drive and easily moldable into whatever they want you to be, instead of being distinctive. 

 You want to be special, heck even feel special, just for a minute like him too. 

 What does that feel like? 

 It probably feels nice, being loved for simply who you are. 

“I know you said I’m like the beach waves, but personally, you’re like the ocean. You’re unpredictable, but very calm, beautiful and breathtaking.” He maintains eye contact with you. “You really remind me of the color blue. You have a kind of depth to you that people would love to write about.” 

 What is he talking about? 

 Oh right, you remind him of the color blue? 

 You know about the association of the color blue and melancholia. You know it means sadness. 

 Is that how he perceives you? 

 Truthfully, you think that people aren’t blind to the fact you look down all the time. You radiate off the 'damsel in distress’ vibe and you’ve been told to brighten up more. You even had people approaching you and willing to listen to your stories because you just looked so troubled and you might need a hand or a shoulder to cry on in case you had no one. 

 You think these kinds of things only happen to pathetic people like you. You personally don’t know someone who is alike to you at all. 

 You have so much to say, but in the end, it’ll all boil down to you being lonely and miserable. 

 You always feel so blue, can he feel it too? 

 Why can’t you be happy? 

“You always say these things.” You try to avoid saying that you don’t believe it, because it’ll show that you don’t believe in yourself as much as he always told you that he has always been so amazed by him. “I see myself as a dessert.” 

“Whatever you say, cutie.” He shakes his head. “But in my opinion, if you’re a dessert, then I’d rather die of dehydration just to be close to you.”

 You know that it’s supposed to be a compliment, but you don’t feel like it. No matter how much he tries to flatter you, you don;t ever feel like those compliments ever get through your head and soak into your brain.

 You’re not enough.

 And you know that he’s too good for you. 

 You believe that you’re truly a dessert, there’s nothing that excites people about you. You’re just someone who is meant to be in the background, not someone in front of the camera, not someone who attracts attention from the others. If people stay around you long enough, they’ll get a thirst to seek for someone who can fulfill their excitement in being adventurous and interesting as well as striking, something you lack.

 And if you’re the ocean, you’d kill people with the tsunami of your overwhelming blue-esque. Nobody should put up with you, but he does. You don’t understand why he stays around with the way you’re like an unpredictable ocean wave that could make others fear for their life.

“Baby?” He mutters out softly, seeing you losing yourself in your train of thoughts. “Let’s get up. It’s getting dark. I want to walk around this beach with you.”

 You don’t notice that the sun has been long gone and has been replaced by the moon now, but you supposed that you’ve always been quite a daydreamer. You’re flustered however, as you sit up, using the support from one of your arms before you can stand up, then you dust all the sand that attaches itself onto your clothes.

“Let’s go.” He smiles at you, and for a moment, your sadness vanishes like the air that brushes itself all the way from thousands of miles away to softly blow his hair, making him look almost so dream-like.

 You think you’re so special that you’re the only person whose person he directs this smile at. And you’re the cause of his happiness just as much as he is with yours.

 He takes a slow step, you follow along. He takes your hand in his, then grip it tightly, like a sweet cotton that is inseparable that never wants to let go.

 You see some shops start lightening up their place, as you’re visiting a tourist attraction. However, you can’t help but feel like it’s just the ghost of Eunseok who talks to you. And you might be seen as crazy for holding onto an imaginary man.

 Then you’re back to being sad again.

 Because no matter how real he is, you feel like you’re holding onto a version of a man that doesn’t exist at all, or a version of a person who you might’ve made up in your head.

 What if he doesn't love you as much as you do with him? 

 It’s funny that you’re probably in an unrequited love in this relationship, maybe.

 You know about the kind of love that people all shared throughout their lives. However, you can’t be too sure about the feelings that he has been upholding for you.

“I love you.” His eyes land directly into yours, gazing deep into your soul, as if he tries to read you.

 You suddenly feel terrible for your earlier thoughts and equally as self conscious.

 And you almost wanted to cry.

“I love you too.” You say, eyes almost brimming with tears and it takes you a crazy level of self amount to not break down in front of him.

 And you mean it. You mean every single word that you respond back to him. 

 This beach is your sacred place. You introduce him to this place because you make a room for a boy named Song Eunseok in your heart, a place that is just as sacred as this place you’re standing at. It’s very vulnerable and you’d hate it if he walks out with your heart in his hand, squeezing it until it explodes and bleeds uncontrollable and the memories of the beach waves rolling as you both walk by the shore, admiring the view under this moonlight. 

 This love itself is very sacred too, and you hope that he’ll continue to love you for a long time as much as you love him. 

 Because you know that there’s no other room for any man who comes after him anymore.

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2024

[lindisworld]

Close || Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary - Soulmate Au! In which [Name] has Daredevil as a soulmate and Matt unwillingly wants [Name] in his life. However Fate does its job and always brings them together.

Chapter three.

Daredevil stood outside [Name]’s window, his fingers gently knocking the glass, hoping she’d come. He returned to get something that rightfully belonged to him, his baton. This particular object served as one of his strongest defensive weapons. Although Daredevil possessed an extraordinary ability to utilize any available item to his advantage, there was an underlying comfort and confidence that came with wielding his trusted baton.

A couple seconds pass, a familiar person opens the window. The cold air making way through the opened glass and into her apartment. sending small shivers down [Name]’s spine. 

“I was anticipating the day you’d show up again,” [Name] says, moving out of the way so Matt could slide in, “I got a gift for you, actually.” She smiles and walks towards her room, retrieving the so called gift. 

“Oh? I didn’t know we had to bring gifts. I would’ve brought something.” Matt says, his head tilting to the side slightly with a grin on his face. He focused on her heartbeat, getting himself familiarized with it, something he couldn’t help but enjoy doing. It was a comforting feeling, just listening to one thing instead of millions of others. 

“Maybe, next time Devil man.” She shouts from her bedroom. He listens to her shuffle things around, looking for his baton. Matt cursed himself earlier for being so reckless and leaving his weapon behind at [Name]’s apartment. This definitely wasn’t him keeping his distance.  It’s honestly not his fault he got shot and landed on her apartment. Even if it’s just for a moment he could experience with her without [Name] knowing who he is to her, he’ll take it. 

“It took awhile to find which is my fault, but I think you’ll love it!” [Name] says with enthusiasm, placing the baton into his hand. “Probably something you’d find helpful.” 

“It’s not really a gift if it belongs to me,” Matt replies, earning a disappointed sigh from [Name]. “Cmon Devil man, just go along with it.” she responds.

”You seem chattier than the first time we met,” Matt told her, it was kind of understandable considering the state he was in when she met him as Daredevil and not Matt. “You were all banged up pretty bad, I thought you were going to die on my couch from a head injury.” She spoked, nervousness peaking through her tone. 

“I appreciate what you did,” He replied, “I can’t be exposing you to any danger if you had removed my mask.” He added truthfully. 

“Well I’m not a nurse but I know how to clean and stitch wounds if you happen to injure yourself around here,” [Name] voiced to Daredevil, her eyes glanced around his suit. She seen the details on the suit that she had missed from the other night. His eyes felt like they were piercing through her. 

“What made you learn?” He asked in tone that sounded concerned that only be heard if you paid closed attention. [Name] missed it and let out a nervous laugh, “My soulmate. They seem to be a little reckless and get themselves hurt quite often. I got use to it over the years.” She uttered. 

“Oh.”  Was all he said. 

“Yeah.” 

“Did you ever think to end the soul tie? Considering all the hurt he put you through.” A question he wasn’t prepared to be answered by her. It was obvious what her answer would be, he felt foolish for even asking. Why is he suddenly caring about her answer? Matt thought about his soulmate many times throughout his life, wondering when she’s gonna appear in his life. Whether she’ll accept him as Daredevil or if she’d want to end the soul tie. For a moment, he thought Elektra was his soulmate in college, but that wasn’t the case. 

Matt figured she’d attempted to end the soul tie because who would want a vigilante? 

“No, but my best friend, Marci. She’s getting worried especially with the recent incident I had,” Her fingers played with the hem of her shirt, recalling the events. “Losing my hearing was an awful experience,” she mumbled. 

Matt felt guilt about what happened, he had no idea just how deep the bond between their souls had become, and this realization sent waves of unease coursing through him. “Thank you for taking care of me that night, I gotta go.” He said, making his way towards the window, without looking back he hops out into the night. 

“Bye Devil man.”

“I’m so glad we’re able to have our girl’s night.” Karen says with a smile on her face, a glass in her hand filled with scotch. [Name] nods in agreement, “I’m sure you’ve been busy with work, I can’t imagine being part of the lawyer work.” She responds. 

“It’s so exhausting at times, but I just want the truth and justice for the clients. I’m doing my best.” 

“I’m sure you’re doing a fantastic job on getting the truth. I can always give you free coffee and desserts whenever needed. Just come by my cafe.” [Name] says.

Karen pulls [Name] into a hug and thanks her. These past few weeks have been tough especially with trying to figure out the Punisher and the big deal with Reyes. It felt like she hasn’t been able to sit and relax without constantly being on the move for new evidence. 

It was nice of [Name] to call Karen over to her place to hangout, possibly a sleepover if they happen to get wasted. 

“You don’t know how much that means to me, so much has been going on with The Punisher. I know talking about it isn’t ideal girl talk,” Karen laughs nervously and tucks a hair behind her ear. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind at all. If it helps you destress, vent away.” [Name] says. 

“Oh, no. I definitely need a break from talking about it.” Karen says, pouring more scotch into her cup. “It’s the only thing that’s been on my mind for while. It’ll be a nice change for a day.”

”Well hopefully what I tell you next distracts you for a while, I met Daredevil personally a few days ago. Like i’ve heard about him before but for me to actually see him in person is insane. It was so surreal.” [Name] sucks in a breath. “He was banged up pretty bad on my rooftop. I went up to check it out and I found him there.” 

“That’s…wow. You carried him to your apartment?” Karen asks, receiving a nod from [Name]. “I had no choice, something in my gut was telling me to grab him. It was really an intense feeling. It was suffocating me.” [Name] explains, recalling the events that happened a couple of days ago. 

“You honestly might’ve saved him, [Name]. Did you ever unmask him and see his true identity?” Karen questioned. Karen witnessed Daredevil firsthand too, something that she always remembered. 

“No, I tried to see his injury under his mask. He grabbed my hand and refused. Thinking about it now, do you think Daredevil would have a soulmate?” 

“I mean everybody has a soulmate, the only exception is if you end the soul tie or the person passes. There’s a high probability of Daredevil having a soulmate.” Karen said. 

“Lord, have mercy on his soulmate. That must be the toughest thing for them.” [Name] mumbles, finishing her alcoholic drink and setting it down.  Karen poured more in [Name]’s cup then adds more to hers as well. 

“Now imagine if you were Captain America’s soulmate. See I wouldn’t mind getting bruised up for him. That’s America’s ass right there that could be mine.” She jokes. Karen laughs and agrees. 

“Let’s talk about being Thor’s soulmate. Having a God for a soulmate sounds too good to be true. I wouldn’t mind living on another planet.” Karen giggles, “It’d be an amazing life with Thor.” 

The two women continued for a few hours about potentially being paired with an Avenger as a soulmate and how mind blowing and exhilarating that would be. Later, [Name] strongly urged Karen to stay over, knowing just how many drinks Karen had consumed, [Name] didn't want to risk the blonde's well-being by letting her walk out into any possible danger.

”We could always watch romcoms till we fall asleep or stay up until the morning, i’ll grab you a pair of pajamas and a shirt.” [Name] grinned and turned on her tv, putting whatever romcom that was being aired currently. She stands up as she stumbles into her bedroom.

“Fine, only cause it’s really late.” Karen says with a giggle. Momentarily, [Name] comes back with clothes and hands it to her. “The bathroom is down the hall to your left. First door.” [Name] replies.

”Thank you for today, I really appreciate it,” Karen’s words slur as she gave [Name] a half drunken hug before heading to the bathroom. In the meantime, a few taps was heard through the window. The same thing that happened earlier before Karen arrived to her apartment. 

“Devil man,” [Name] mutters as she walks towards the window, stumbling a bit as she went. She unlocks the window and lifts it up. “Are you checking up on me?” Her eyebrows furrows, her vision becoming blurred the longer she looks at him. 

“Yes,” He answered truthfully, “I was passing by and you’re the only apartment that has their lights on at 3 in the morning.” Matt didn’t understand why’d he check up on her, he knew she had company over and she had been drinking too. It was a fancy scotch, he tasted it on her lips as she spoke to him and the smell of alcohol mixing with her scent infiltrated his nose. 

“I’m with my friend, Karen. I invited her over for a girl’s night after you left earlier. We were talking about you, we were wondering if you have a soulmate. Oh my gosh, if you do. What would you even do? I could honestly imagine myself with Captain America.” [Name] rambles, her words occasionally mixing together. 

Matt chuckles under his breath, amused at her rant. He also picked up Karen’s name, he hadn’t know they have been friends since they met her at the coffee shop. He completely disregarded her soulmate question. 

“She’s coming out the bathroom now. Stay safe and goodnight, [Name].” Matt said to her. [Name] heard the bathroom door opened and turned to check. 

“I never told you my na-“ [Name] turns to the window before realizing he had left. Her face displayed confusion as she peeked out the window to see no Daredevil. No signs of him anywhere. It made [Name] think she had hallucinated the interaction.

“Who were you talking to?” Karen questions, “I guess to myself, I must’ve drank too much.” [Name] laughs and shuts the window close. 

“Now let’s watch movies till we pass out.” Karen eagerly says and sits comfortably on the couch.

A/n : not proofread!!

[002yb]

Runs to you hands you a note that says "dickjay kink praise" and leaves

Alright, so it's to be expected that I've got a strong hankering for Dick praising Jason and Jason being wrecked for it but like. Jason praising Dick? There's something here and like...it's super cute!! Hear me out:

Jason considering how Dick grew up with applause (at the circus) and how there's no such praise for Dick now, only an expectation to do and to do it without err

And it's not like Dick seems to mind, but Jason can't help but wonder if Dick misses it: the wonder, the awe, the reverence.

None of those things are lacking from Dick's life now, necessarily, but he receives them in different ways. More subdued, more conservative.

Gone are words of affirmation and shows of gratitude, replaced instead with implicit trust as heroes and colleagues and friends shift their burdens onto Dick's shoulders because they have an utmost faith that Dick will help them, guide them, save them

No one tells Dick that he does a good job or in what ways he's extraordinary. Maybe it's because heroes value action more than words? Jason isn't sure, but he thinks it might be a shame.

It's a great thing to know you're respected - to see that reflected in people trusting your skills and capabilities. It's wonderful to know you're well-liked - to recognize it in the way people flock to you, drawn in by some sort of gravity.

It's something else entirely to be praised.

It's on a whim that Jason says it. It's some inconsequential day during a patrol break or after a post-patrol debrief; it's out of the blue entirely - on a day where they happen to be in one another's space. Lounging before another grueling night. Or while Jason is dropping off lunch or a duffel of Dick's stuff at the station at Alfred's behest. An inconsequential day at an inconsequential time but Jason is curious and can't shake what a damn shame it is because Dick...

Maybe Dick doesn't want or need the praise, but he works damn hard and tries fucking hard to be good: a beacon to guide the lost, a hope for those that have lost the light.

So Jason considers Dick, marveling him and the way that Dick bears burden and expectation and is so frustratingly graceful despite the thanklessness of it all

(But Jason knows as well as any of them - they don't do all the shit they do for something as paltry as gratitude...though it is nice, sometimes. To be seen. To be acknowledged. To have someone recognize the efforts and sacrifices made).

But praise is - it's hard? So Jason's whim to praise comes out a tongue-tied mess that undermines his usual wit and eloquence, but Jason stands by it despite how the compliment might have been a little too honest and makes Jason's cheeks flush pink: 'you're really inspiring.'

And Dick is caught off guard by it, incredulous until he recognizes the sincerity in the sentiment and Jason startles a bit because Dick smiles and it's so heartrendingly genuine and breathtaking and Jason can't believe how damn devastating it is

Dick is gracious about it even as he ducks his head and carries on doing whatever he was doing. 'Thank you,' Dick tells him and Jason wants to say more. More and more because he thinks Dick needs to hear it; sometimes it's important to hear these things: 'i appreciate you,' and 'i see you,' and 'thank you.'

Also it's only after writing this far that I've remembered that 'kink' was supposed to be part of this, which uh. Whoops. Let this be wholesome praising praise kink.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Iron Man 2: Part One

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Nick Fury sits across from you in the dimly lit room. On the desk in front of you is a file he's been working on since you and Carol parted ways in 1995. He's been waiting patiently for the past ten minutes while you read through it all.

"This is what you were working on after Carol left?" you ask and scan the pages in your hand once more.

"I didn't realize exactly what's out there until you and Carol. I have no idea what we might face, and I think it's about time to bring together exceptional people with extraordinary powers such as yourself," Fury explains.

"What are you trying to put together? Some kind of superhero team?" you chuckle.

"It's good to know what's out there. It's better to be prepared for it."

"You think I'm worthy enough to be in this group?"

"Have you met you? The woman I knew in 1995 would jump at the chance to be on this team."

"I have to admit, you've got some good stuff in here," you sigh and set the file on the table.

"But...?"

"I've seen this kind of thing before. Someone puts together a team of exceptionally gifted people who can do incredible things, but conflict arises and it never works out. Your heart is in the right place, but I don't think your head is. Have you thought this through?"

"More than you think I have. I think with the right motivation, this team can be the greatest thing this world has ever seen."

"I don't know," you bite your lower lip in worry.

"Who survived the Kree not once but twice? Who fought Hydra in World War II? Who helped defeat Stane? Who helped Bruce?"

"Okay, first, Stane was a douchebag in a machine he didn't know how to control. Anyone could have beaten him," you roll your eyes. "Second, Bruce came to me thinking I was a scientist. He heard about me back in 1945, found out how to contact me, and I was there for him. I didn't know what I was signing up for when he went all Hulk on me."

"Think about it, Y/N. This is something that can be truly remarkable with the right people. I already have two agents on board."

"Who?"

"Black Widow and Hawkeye."

You don't know who Hawkeye is but you've heard plenty about the deadly assassin. She's popped up over the years but you've always stayed out of her way in fear she'll start hunting you. Never did you think you'd get to be able to work with her. You take the file from the table and look at Black Widow's section.

Damn, she's gorgeous.

"Is she seeing anyone?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, is she in a relationship?"

"I'm not doing this. Ask her yourself. Take some time and think about it."

He gets up and is about to leave the room when you swivel around to face him.

"How's your eye doing?"

"Don't start," he shakes his head and leaves the room.

Not only do you have this to think about, Tony's speech has been on replay over and over in your mind. You told the world that you were the Avatar while Tony confessed to being Iron Man. The weeks following the press conference have been nothing but chaos as the public made you and Tony celebrities. While you did confess to being able to control the elements, you're not going to tell the world the planet you're truly from. You're not sure they're ready to hear they're not alone in the universe.

Dr. Erskine, Peggy Carter, and Howard Stark took it well because they were already working in that area, so it didn't come as a shock to them. Despite being inventors, doctors, and secret government agents, they were scientists. They knew there were other lifeforms out there.

They may have been ready to learn about you, but the rest of the world isn't.

You and Tony have been put in the spotlight, making you two out to be idols. People love the Avatar and Iron Man and often want you two to be out together in public. With his newfound sense of fame, he decided to reopen the Stark Exposition where he showcases all the things he's invented while encouraging people to show off their inventions.

If you know Tony, and you do, he's gonna want to make a grand entrance into his Stark Exposition. He's going to use the suit to fly into the arena with you by his side. To do that, you have to get high, which is why you two are on a small plane to take you to that height.

"I never got the chance to tell you how risky of a move it was to reveal yourself like that," you say to him while you're waiting.

"It's bound to come out sooner or later," Tony shrugs.

"They're going to start asking questions."

"They were already doing it before."

"Life is going to be different for us."

"Eh, what else is new?" he chuckles.

The plane flies higher, and you and Tony get ready to jump out of it.

"So, how are you and Pepper doing? Have you kissed her yet?"

"Don't start."

"What? Come on, you two almost kissed. There's some sort of feelings there, no?"

"I don't know," Tony sighs. "Do I really want to involve her in my life?"

"You need someone like her to keep you grounded. She's been with you for ten years and has done more than what you've asked her to do. She likes you, Tony and I know you like her, too. Tell me, imagine if she wasn't in your life. How would that make you feel?" Tony can't answer because he knows the answer. He knows he'd be devastated. "Exactly my point."

"Two hundred and seventy at thirty knots. Holding steady at fifteen thousand feet. You are clear for exfiltration over the drop zone," the pilot informs.

"Time for show business."

The launch door on the bottom of the airplane opens, and Tony doesn't hesitate to jump out of it. You jump off the landing strip and follow him as he zips through the air at a fast pace. The wind whips through your hair, the breeze is nice against your skin, and you're having fun just flying wherever you please to go. 

Tony takes the lead to the Stark Expo, and he lands on the stage with a loud thump. You're more delicate with your entrance, and you slowly lower yourself next to Tony until your feet are planted on the ground.

Tony has to make this event as grand as it can be which means there are fireworks, a very bright light show, dancing girls dressed like Iron Man, and a raging crowd to greet him. Sure, you told everyone you're the Avatar, but they're more interested in the billionaire. Not that you're complaining, you're content with being in the background.

You take a few steps back to let the machines underneath the stage remove Tony's suit for him. The platform he's on is slowly spinning as robotic arms are dismantling his suit. The showgirls continue to dance in the background until the song that's playing is over. They do some big dance number that you couldn't possibly follow, and they leave once their parts are over with. 

The lights dim to focus on you and Tony.

"Tony! Tony! Tony! Tony!" the majority of the crowd yells. 

Your name is being scattered throughout the crowd, but it's mostly for Tony.

"It's good to be back. You missed me?" he chuckles.

"Blow something up!" a man in the crowd screams.

"Blow something up? I already did that," he dismisses him until the crowd dies down. "I'm not saying that the world is enjoying its longest period of uninterrupted peace in years because of us. I'm not saying that from the ashes of captivity, never has a greater phoenix metaphor been personified in human history. I'm not saying that Uncle Sam can kick back on a lawn chair, sipping on an iced tea because I haven't come across anyone who's man enough to go toe-to-toe with us on our best day!"

"It's actually not about us," you chime in. "It's not about you. It's about legacy. It's about what we choose to leave behind for future generations. That's why, for the next year, and for the first time since 1974, the best and brightest men and women of nations and corporations the world over will pool their resources and share their collective vision to leave behind a brighter future."

"She's absolutely right. Therefore, what we're saying, if we're saying anything, is welcome back to the Stark Expo," Tony smiles and the crowd goes wild. "Now, making a special guest appearance from the great beyond to tell you what it's all about, please welcome my father, Howard."

You and Tony leave the stage as the video of Howard starts to play. 

"He looks so young there," you comment after your microphones have been turned off.

"What, you didn't know him like this?"

"I knew him when he was in his twenties. He was bright for his age. He loved inventing."

"Yeah, even more than his own son," Tony scoffs.

"He loved you so much, Tony. Even before you were even an idea. He talked about having children with so much love and admiration. He was a good man. He helped me and Steve become who we are."

"It's nice to know you have fond memories of him," he nods passive-aggressively.

It's clear he doesn't like to talk about his dad a lot, and you don't really understand why. While you were off-planet, he was here building his family. You weren't fortunate in seeing Howard as a parent since you met Tony only a couple of years before his parents died. Tony never liked how Howard parented, but you have a feeling he refuses to see why Howard did what he did.

"I'm sure if he were here, he'd be so proud of you."

Tony doesn't respond to that. He turns away from the screen and pulls out a device that measures his blood toxicity levels. The palladium in the arc reactor is slowly killing him, so he has to check how toxic his blood is every hour. You're working on a cure, but there isn't an acceptable replacement for palladium. The continued use of the Iron Man suit is killing him, and it's very hard to make him see the seriousness of the situation.

Only you know about this because he refuses to tell anyone what's actually happening. He doesn't want anyone to worry about what's going on with him even though they deserve to know. Pepper deserves to know. Even with your vast knowledge of powers and serums, you don't know how you'll be able to fix this one.

If Tony is good at anything, then it's how he throws after-parties once the main one dies down. As soon as the Expo is over, everyone huddles around the front of the building to meet you and Tony. Happy stands in front of you two to carve a path back to the car. Tony stops to sign autographs and take pictures with devoted fans while you keep your head down. You hated your picture being taken in the 1940s and you hate it being taken now.

Pictures are proof you were here.

Happy escorts you to Tony's brand new convertible car while the building's security prevents people from crowding you at the car.

"Very mellow," Tony comments.

"I thought it was going to be worse."

A slim, young woman walks to the car with two men behind her just as you get in the backseat of the car.

"Hi, and you are?" Tony asks as he slides into the front seat.

"Marshal. Pleased to meet you Tony and Y/N."

"I'm sorry, what are you doing here?" you ask.

"Looking for you two," she grins, "and serving subpoenas."

She hands him a piece of paper and he visibly gulps. He hates being handed things, which you never understood.

"Yikes," he mutters. 

"He doesn't like to be handed things. I'll take it," you smile and take the letter she offers. 

"Yeah, I have a peeve," Tony nods. 

"I got it. You two are hereby ordered to appear before the Senate Armed Services Committee tomorrow morning at nine a.m."

"Can I see a badge?"

"You wanna see the badge?" she grins. 

"We'll be there," you interrupt her meaningless flirting. "How far are we from D.C.?"

"Two hundred and fifty miles," Happy answers. 

"We'll be there. Thank you."

Tony turns the car on and takes off toward the highway. It's night right now, but it will be morning by the time you get to D.C.

x

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[pascaloverx]

Rewrite The Stars

Chapter Ten

Summary: One photo changes your whole life, when you accidentally bump into a celebrity and the world starts to believe that you are a couple.

Notes:

In this chapter, we have an extra character, whom I'd like you to imagine as the actor Enzo Vogrincic. And for those who enjoy the fanfic, I appreciate if you reblog or like. Thank you to everyone who is following the fic.

chapter nine chapter eleven

Dinner is too quiet. It's as if everyone is afraid to say something. Your mother is keeping an eye on Pedro Pascal as if he were a criminal suspect. Enzo is watching you like he wants something. 

"Are you planning to marry my daughter?" Your mother asks between bites. Her pie is still in her mouth when you almost choke upon hearing the question she posed to Pascal. He, in turn, takes a good sip of wine, trying to find a good answer.

"Your daughter and I are exploring what the future holds for us. Marriage isn't out of the question, but right now our priority is to be each other's partners." Pedro responds, then takes another long sip of wine. He may be an actor, but he seems somewhat unsure at the moment.

"And how does this partnership work? She's unemployed, with no prospects for the future, being exposed to the world of fame as a scammer, and you, my dear, are working and getting rich. It doesn't seem right to me." Your mother says, staring at Pascal. You feel like you need to put an end to the situation.

"And I lost my job but I'm looking for another one. Not to mention I had savings, and I'm not living off what Pedro earns. Mom, I'm sorry, but my life with Pedro is only our business. You may like it or not, but I won't leave him because it doesn't seem right for us to be together. And I also won't go back to being with Enzo. He's handsome, probably a man you've always dreamed of for me, but he's not what I want. I want to be with Pascal. Whether you believe it or not." You basically defending your relationship with Pascal. And the Oscar should be yours because your mother seems to have believed everything. Maybe even Pedro is believing in what you're saying.

"I hope you know what you're doing. Leaving the sure thing for the doubtful one at your age could mean living the rest of your life alone." Your mother replies, and you feel apprehensive. She's not entirely wrong about this, but you have an agreement with Pedro and you will fulfill it.

"Mom, I hate to disappoint you, but Enzo isn't my person. He's not even close. He's attractive, yes. Have you seen his face? He's extraordinary. He's a good person, yes. Maybe one of the best people I've already met. But he and I have no chemistry. Do you want me to prove it? I taste you." You almost scream and get up going towards Enzo. You impulsively kiss him. And you regret the moment you do it. But in your defense, it's the only way to get your mother to stop all this. A kiss that is neither too long nor too short. Enzo's lips are so soft as much as you remembered. But really between you and him, there is no chemistry.

"I'm not sure if this is the best way to convince your mother, but I'm at your disposal if you want to try again." Enzo says as soon as we break the kiss, and you feel embarrassed. You gently step back from him while observing Pascal's face, who is sitting in front of you. He seems angry. But you're not sure if he's not pretending.

"Before my daughter takes any other impulsive action, I'd like to say that I got the message. You must really be crazy about Mr. Pascal. To the point of kissing your ex in front of your mother and him to prove that you no longer have feelings for your ex." Your mother says and takes a sip of wine. She seems embarrassed. Yay, you ruined dinner.

"Despite disapproving of the way my girlfriend chose to prove that she has no chance of getting back with her ex, I must say that I am also crazy about her. Not to the point of kissing Enzo, but I trust that your daughter and I, Mrs. Y/M/N, have something special." Pedro says, sounding a bit upset but maybe it's just in your head. He gently holds your hand and you both lock eyes, perhaps to convince your mother.

"I think it's time for me to leave. It was great seeing you again, Y/N. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Pascal, I'm a big fan of your work . I'll see you, Mrs. Y/M/N, at church." Enzo says, getting up and heading home. In the moments that followed, you finished the meal, and your mother even tried to wash the dishes, but you and Pascal insisted she go to bed. Before retiring, she stopped near both of you while he was washing the dishes and you were clearing the table.

"Despite everything that happened here, I hope you two will be happy together, for however long this real or fake relationship lasts. Obviously, the guest room is available for you both. There's a double bed in there, but remember that this is a respectable house and you're not married. Have a good night." Your mother speaks, seeming more convinced of your relationship with Pascal. You both bid her good night, and then you're alone in the kitchen.

"If you want, I can sleep in my old room and leave the guest room for you. I'm sure my mom will believe that we're respecting the sanctity of this house." You speak, watching Pascal, who doesn't seem very pleased.

"If I were Enzo, would this conversation even exist?" Pedro asks, dropping a nearly clean plate into the sink and appearing irritated. You don't quite understand why he's asking that.

"Is this about the kiss?" You ask defensively. It seems Mr. Pascal forgot that we're not really dating.

"Of course. You kissed your ex in front of me. And now you don't even want to share the bed with me." Pedro says, trying not to raise his voice, but you can tell he's pretty upset.

"Mr. Pascal, I have to say that from where I'm standing, it seems like you forgot that this isn't a real relationship and that it's not fair for you to demand anything from me after our last conversation where you talked about boundaries; if you're so afraid that I'll cross boundaries beyond a fake relationship, how can you be here complaining about a kiss?" You speak, getting closer to Pedro, who seems a bit confused.

"What does it matter? Isn't that what a boyfriend should do? Tell his girlfriend not to kiss her ex in front of him? Ask her to sleep beside him instead of in another room?" Pedro speaks, and you feel a little happy. He's almost too cute while arguing with you.

"So all you have to do is tell me that you'd like to sleep with me and that you prefer I don't kiss other people while we're falsely together." You say as you stare at Pedro, who is no longer washing dishes. In fact, he's coming towards you, and then he gently grabs your waist. You're surprised, but too enchanted to ask questions. And then you close your eyes, waiting for a kiss.

"I want to sleep with you, and I would like to be the only person you will kiss while we're together. Satisfied?" Pedro asks, and then he kisses you. And you know you could kiss him for a century and still feel butterflies in your stomach. It's as if he has a power over you.

"Satisfied." You respond between kisses, and then continue kissing your fake boyfriend. In the middle of your mother's kitchen, while the two of you are doing anything but pretending to be attracted to each other. At the beginning of all this, you thought only you were in trouble, but it seems Mr. Pascal also doesn't know how to avoid catching feelings.

tag: @wanniiieeee , @hungrhay and @leilanixx

[sasha-whos-askin-racket]

When I see that whole "adults shouldn't interact with minors" thing, I remember that I, at 13 years old, wrote a letter and posted it to an actor I really liked that I had seen in a musical. And this actor, a man in his late 20s, wrote back to me. The letter was...admittedly not great. At 13 I hadn't really grasped the idea that other people were people. I told him a little too much about the problems in my life, as well as expressing my love for the show and how it had impacted on me personally. Chris was very gracious in his reply, and was, in fact, the first adult in my life to make me feel appreciated.

He didn't know I was being abused at home, because that was something I wasn't stupid enough to mention. He didn't know I'd stolen the stamps and envelope I was using to post the letter because I was afraid of getting into trouble for sending it, that I'd stuffed it away hidden until one morning after being dropped off at school I secretly ran up the road to the post-box and sent it off. He didn't know any of this. He just knew that I was a little kid, frightened and overwhelmed, that had turned to him for comfort. And goddamn he gave me comfort. He taught me that I was a good person, that I could do whatever I wanted and didn't have to listen to what other people thought of me, that I was extraordinary, that I deserved to be cared about. I didn't kill myself because of that little piece of paper, and I'm now studying musical theatre, a subject I never thought I had a future in, because he believed in me.

I'm in my 20s now, and Chris is in his 30s. He's still an actor. He's also a mental health first aider who emailed me an entire list of support resources after I was lucky enough to finally meet him in person a few months ago after not being in contact with each other at all for about five years. He's also somebody that I occasionally message on Instagram, to talk about my transition, or how college is going, or what him and his partner are up to. He's also somebody who's handwriting I'm going to get tattooed on me in a few months when I can afford it. If I hadn't written to him, if he hadn't written back, I wouldn't be the person I am now. I wouldn't be here now. And now he's somebody that I (albeit hesitantly because I still absolutely idolise him) call a friend. I didn't even know that he was queer at the time - though I knew that I was - and yet that has become something we talk about the most.

So y'know. If you're a queer kid, or any kid really, and you're struggling, or you're fed up, or maybe your life is great and you're just curious or bored - talk to adults! Because sometimes you get really fucking lucky, and you find an adult like Chris.