#bears fed daily

[petsincollections]

Washington Park Zoo - Bears Fed Daily Sign

Polar bears in the old cages at the Washington Park Zoo. A sign indicates that they are fed daily at 2:30. In 1919, the zoo was home to the first polar bear born in captivity in North America.

Milwaukee Historic Photo

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ white mustang ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢

╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x single!mother!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ you were a single mother raising a four-year-old daughter in the bustling, unforgiving city of seoul. life had not unfolded as you once fantasized it might, instead, it had cornered you into a relentless cycle of poverty and struggle. you had married young, filled with hope and naivety, but those dreams were shattered when your husband abandoned you shortly after you announced your pregnancy. unable to bear the duties of fatherhood, he not only left but also cast you out of the home you once shared, leaving you to fend for yourself and your unborn child.

˚ ༘♡ your own family, steeped in tradition and pride, turned their backs on you as well. they viewed your divorce as a mark of shame, a stain on their honor. the fact that you would raise a child without a father was, in their eyes, an unforgivable disgrace. they refused to take you in, forcing you to seek refuge in whatever options you could find. eventually, you found work as a sales assistant at a small boutique, where the pay was barely enough to scrape by. minimum wage stretched thin over endless expense, formula, rent, utilities, and it quickly became apparent that even the bare necessities were a luxury. in a moment of sheer desperation, you began taking out loans amounting in tens of thousands of won, well aware you could never repay them. the interest piled up as fast as the bills, but the loans kept your daughter fed and clothed, albeit barely. you hated yourself for it, but there were no other choices that didn’t feel impossible.

˚ ༘♡ your home, if it could be called that, was on the less fortunate side of a narrow street lined with aging apartments and cracked sidewalks. the peeling paint and broken railings were a daily reminder of your circumstances. yet, even amidst your despair, you couldn’t help but notice the contrast a few blocks over, a wealthier stretch of the same neighborhood, where sleek cars parked outside magnificent homes and prosperity seemed to flourish. it was during one of your daily walks to the bus stop, your daughter’s tiny hand clutching yours, that you first noticed him.

˚ ༘♡ cho sang-woo. a man who seemed completely out of place in your reality but belonged so effortlessly to the better half of the neighborhood. his polished suits, sharp gaze, and air of quiet confidence spoke of success and power. you didn’t know much about him, only the whispered details you overheard at the local convenience store. he was a former student of seoul university, where he graduated at the top of his class, and he now worked at joy investments, one of the most prestigious firms in the city. he lived in the nicer part of the street, a place that might as well have been a world apart from yours.

˚ ༘♡ for weeks, your paths crossed without words. you would see him on the way to work, his brisk stride purposeful and somehow detached. you’d clutch your daughter’s hand tightly as she skipped beside you, her laughter a rare mirthful mark in your otherwise gray days. sometimes, you wondered if he noticed you at all, or if to him, you were just another melancholic face in the crowd. but there was something in the way his eyes briefly wandered to yours, a swift, barely noticeable moment of acknowledgment, almost imperceptible but not absent.

˚ ༘♡ a month passed without much change. you worked long hours at the boutique, came home to your daughter’s laughter echoing in the small apartment, and fell asleep each night with exhaustion pressing against your chest. spring had arrived, softening the chill in the air and filling the streets with blossoms and a sense of renewal you couldn’t quite feel for yourself. still, you tried to give your daughter a taste of joy, taking her for walks when time allowed, letting her skip along the sidewalks as if the world weren’t so cynical.

˚ ༘♡ one bright afternoon, the kind that made the city’s grime seem almost picturesque, you saw him again. cho sang-woo stood ahead, unmistakable in his dark business suit. the clean lines of his attire and the polished leather of his shoes seemed to set him apart from the bustling, chaotic world around him. his square-rimmed glasses caught the sunlight, and his expression, though composed, held a trace of warmth when he noticed you approaching. he lifted a hand in a brief wave and nodded. “good morning,” he greeted, his tone polite but personable.

˚ ༘♡ you returned his nod with a soft smile, your daughter tugging lightly at your hand. “good morning to you as well, sir,” you replied, your voice calm, though you felt a twinge of surprise that he’d acknowledged you.

˚ ༘♡ your daughter, far less reserved, beamed up at him, her youthful cheer impossible to contain. “hello, sir!” she exclaimed with a giggle, her small voice cutting through the hum of the city.

˚ ༘♡ he stopped in his tracks, the corners of his mouth lifting in a genuine grin. “how old is she?” he asked, his gaze shifting to your daughter, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “four years old as of last month,” you replied, brushing a hand over her dark hair with a hint of pride you didn’t bother hiding.

˚ ༘♡ he adjusted his glasses, the gesture quick and practiced, before replying, “she’s a clever child. you’re blessed to have her.”

˚ ༘♡ his words, spoken so simply yet with unmistakable sincerity, stirred something in you. “i tell myself that every day,” you said quietly, your fingers tightening gently around your daughter’s small hand.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t seem rushed to leave, lingering as though the conversation mattered more than wherever he was headed. his questions were unintrusive, small talk about the weather, the flowers blooming along the street, and whether you’d been in the neighborhood long. you answered politely, aware of the contrast between his world and yours yet struck by how easily he spoke to you.

˚ ༘♡ after a few minutes, he glanced at his watch, a subtle flare of responsibility returning to his expression. “i’d better get going,” he said, though there was no impatience in his tone. “it was nice talking to you.”

˚ ༘♡ “and to you,” you replied, dipping your head slightly.

˚ ༘♡ he offered your daughter one last smile before walking away, his pace measured, his presence lingering even as he disappeared down the street. you watched him for a moment, then turned back to your daughter, who was already pulling you toward the park.

˚ ༘♡ from that day on, whenever your paths crossed, he made a point to stop and speak with you. at first, the exchanges were brief, a polite inquiry about your day or a comment on how quickly your daughter was growing. but as the weeks passed, the conversations stretched longer, even when his crisp attire and leather briefcase suggested a packed schedule. he would pause, leaning slightly toward you as he spoke, his words carrying a kind of attentiveness you hadn’t encountered in a long time. those encounters, swift as they were, began to carve a small space of solace into the otherwise monotonous routine of your days.

˚ ༘♡ one quiet afternoon, as you were tidying up after a long day, the phone rang. you glanced at the screen and saw sang-woo’s name flashing. you hesitated for a moment, unsure why he was calling, but you picked up. his voice on the other end was casual yet warm. “would you like to grab dinner tonight? nothing fancy, something simple,” he said, his tone friendly enough to put you at ease.

˚ ༘♡ you smiled softly, though he couldn’t see it. “i’d like to, but i can’t leave my daughter home alone,” you replied, your words tinged with regret. her well-being was always your priority, and you weren’t in a position to make exceptions.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t hesitate to reply. “then bring her along,” he insisted without hesitation. “it’ll be fun for all of us, and i couldn’t think of leaving her out.”

˚ ༘♡ his sincerity made it hard to say no. after a brief pause, you agreed, telling him you’d meet him shortly. your daughter, wide-eyed and excited, picked the dinner, a feast of fried chicken and tteokbokki. it wasn’t what you considered a balanced meal, but sang-woo laughed softly when you voiced your concerns. “an occasional indulgence won’t hurt,” he reassured you, his tone effortlessly convincing. “besides, it’s my treat tonight.”

˚ ༘♡ when you arrived at the small, bustling eatery, your daughter clung to your hand while her gaze darted around, taking in the brightly colored menus and the sizzling platters on nearby tables. sang-woo was already seated, waving you over with a welcoming smile that made you feel momentarily lighter. he pulled out a chair for you before settling back into his own seat, engaging your daughter with playful questions about her favorite foods and games. her laughter filled the air as he entertained her, his natural charm putting her completely at ease.

˚ ༘♡ as the meal went on, you found yourself relaxing, enjoying the rare treat of good food and pleasant company. when your daughter noticed the arcade machines near the back of the restaurant, her face lit up with excitement. before you could say a word, sang-woo reached into his pocket and handed her a coin, encouraging her to go play while the two of you stayed behind. it was then, as you sat alone with him, that the evening took a turn you hadn’t anticipated.

˚ ༘♡ leaning in slightly, his expression grew more thoughtful. “can i ask you something personal?” he began, his voice measured and quiet. you nodded, unsure where he was going with this. “are you seeing anyone right now?”

˚ ༘♡ the question caught you off guard. you hesitated, but there was no point in pretending. with a quiet sigh, you opened up about your past, your brief, ill-fated marriage, your ex-husband’s abandonment, and the struggles that had followed. sang-woo listened intently, his gaze steady, never betraying judgment or discomfort. when you finished, he offered a small, empathetic smile and reached across the table, his hand brushing yours lightly. “you’ve been through so much, but you’re doing a wonderful job as a mother,” he said, his words sincere. before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, quick and discreet, ensuring your daughter didn’t see.

˚ ༘♡ the gesture left you momentarily speechless, your heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years. cho sang-woo was everything society valued, handsome, intelligent, and successful. yet, you couldn’t ignore the gap between your worlds. a single mother scraping by on meager wages didn’t belong in the same orbit as a man like him, no matter how kind he was. you told yourself he was simply a good friend, someone who offered comfort in a lonely existence. but the truth was harder to dismiss, and the growing fondness you felt for him remained long after that night.

˚ ༘♡ weeks later, the strain of your financial troubles bore down on you more heavily than ever. the debt had spiraled out of control, and every day felt like a losing battle to stay afloat. you were walking home one evening when a sharply dressed man approached you, his presence almost unsettling in its precision. he introduced himself with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and held out two small folded squares of paper. “care for a game of ddakji?” he asked, his tone cheerful but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place. “if you win, you’ll get one hundred thousand won. if you lose, i get to slap you.”

˚ ༘♡ desperation clouded your judgment, and against your better instincts, you agreed. the first few rounds ended in failure, each slap stinging more than the last. but you persisted, driven by the thought of what that money could mean for your daughter. finally, with trembling hands and a burst of determination, you flipped the paper correctly. the man handed you the cash with an unsettling smile and then extended a business card. “call this number if you want to win more,” he said, his words lingering in your mind as you walked away clutching the money.

˚ ༘♡ that night, after tucking your daughter into bed, you stared at the card for what felt like hours. the temptation was overwhelming, and in the end, it won. you called the number, your voice shaking as you gave your name and address. within minutes, a sleek black limousine pulled up in front of your building, its windows tinted so dark you couldn’t see inside. stepping in, you barely had time to settle before a strange chemical filled the air, and the world went dark.

˚ ༘♡ when you awoke, the surroundings were unfamiliar and unnerving. rows of bunk beds stretched endlessly across a vast room, the walls painted a distasteful shade of green. you looked down and saw the plain jumpsuit you now wore, the number 017 stitched onto the fabric. confusion and fear gripped you, but one thought rose above the chaos, your daughter was at home, and you had to survive this for her, to give the life she deserved.

˚ ༘♡ the goal of winning was your aspiration when the first game began. at first glance, it seemed absurd, red light, green light, a relic from childhood memories long buried beneath the weight of adulthood. the vibrant, oversized doll at the far end of the field seemed almost laughable in its stillness, its painted smile eerie but harmless. but that illusion shattered when the first player was eliminated. the sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, followed by the horrifying sight of their lifeless body collapsing onto the dirt. the cheerful voice announcing the rules continued without pause, as though nothing had happened.

˚ ༘♡ panic erupted among the players. shouts of disbelief and terror filled the air as dozens bolted toward the exits, frantic and desperate to escape. one by one, they were struck down, their bodies littering the field as if caught in an invisible storm. the realization hit you like a physical blow, this was no game. this was life and death, and you were standing in its grasp. your knees trembled under the weight of fear, and your breaths came shallow and quick. every instinct screamed at you to run, to flee the nightmare unfolding around you.

˚ ༘♡ “the doll’s eyes are motion sensors. don’t move.”

˚ ༘♡ the voice came from behind, quiet but firm, cutting through the chaos. you turned your head slightly, careful to avoid triggering the sensors. it was cho sang-woo, his expression as composed as ever, though his voice carried an edge you had never heard before. his presence shocked you, why was he here? he had a prestigious job, a beautiful home, a life far removed from the misery that had led you to this place. what could have driven him to join this horrifying spectacle? but there was no time for answers. survival demanded your complete attention.

˚ ༘♡ you fixed your gaze on the doll, its head swiveling unnervingly to scan the players. the melody began again, and with it, the rules of survival. move forward, stop immediately, stay frozen. you forced yourself to take small, deliberate steps, resisting the overwhelming urge to sprint. each time the doll’s head turned, you froze, your body taut with fear, your heart pounding so loudly it seemed deafening. every second stretched into eternity, every step forward a test of willpower.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo crossed the finish line seconds before you, his figure stoic as he turned his back to the field. you pushed onward, your focus unyielding, until you finally crossed the line with seconds to spare. the tension in your body snapped, leaving your legs weak beneath you, but you remained upright, clinging to the knowledge that you had survived, for now. you glanced toward sang-woo, hoping for some acknowledgment, but he avoided your gaze entirely, turning away as if you were a stranger.

˚ ༘♡ once the last player stumbled through, the harsh blare of a horn signaled the end of the game, and the survivors were ushered back into the dormitory. the atmosphere was suffocating, the air thick with tension and fear as the reality of what they had just endured began to sink in. the sight of so many bodies lying lifeless on the field haunted you, but there was no time to grieve, no space to process. the masked guards stood silent and menacing, a constant reminder that you were trapped under their watchful gaze.

˚ ༘♡ as the players murmured among themselves, questions and disbelief rippling through the crowd, one of the masked guards stepped forward. his voice was distorted through the microphone, chilling in its detachment. “to remind you why you are here, we will reveal the amount of debt each of you owes.”

˚ ༘♡ the room fell silent, a collective tension building as a screen lit up on one of the walls. one by one, the players’ faces appeared, alongside staggering amounts of debt. gasps and whispers spread as the numbers grew larger and larger, each amount more crippling than the last. when your face appeared, the sum displayed made your stomach churn, a figure so vast it felt insurmountable, nearly half a billion won, a reflection of every foolish decision you had made to keep your daughter fed and housed.

˚ ༘♡ but the room truly stilled when cho sang-woo’s face appeared on the screen. his debt was six billion won. the air seemed to grow heavier as the number glowed on the screen, an incomprehensible weight tied to the man who had always seemed so polished, so composed, so untouchable. a few players exchanged shocked glances, but sang-woo’s expression didn’t waver. his face remained unreadable, a mask of calm that betrayed none of the turmoil he might have felt.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop staring at him. six billion won? how could someone with his education, his prestigious career, have ended up in such a dire position? questions swirled in your mind, but the icy tone of the guard’s voice broke through your thoughts. “this is what brought you here. this is what you must fight to overcome.”

˚ ༘♡ as the screen darkened, the room buzzed with subdued murmurs. the revelation had shifted the atmosphere, exposing the cracks in the carefully guarded facades of those around you. it was a stark reminder that no one here was truly secure, no matter how confident or composed they appeared.

˚ ༘♡ murmurs of confusion and disbelief filled the air. then, to your astonishment, sang-woo stepped forward and initiated a vote to end the game. the announcement caused a ripple of hope, and soon the vote began. by the narrowest margin, the majority chose to leave. the thought of returning to your daughter filled you with relief, even as unease lingered in your mind.

˚ ༘♡ back in the outside world, you clung to the brief sense of normalcy that returning home provided. your daughter’s laughter was a salve to your frayed nerves, but the relief was fleeting. the reality of your situation hit like a tidal wave when you opened the door to find loan sharks waiting, their demands sharper and more insistent than before. a stack of bills sat ominously on your table, a chilling reminder that leaving the game hadn’t erased your debts. it had only delayed the inevitable.

˚ ༘♡ when the sleek black limousine returned, you didn’t hesitate. you kissed your daughter’s forehead, returned her to the care of your elderly neighbor, and climbed into the car, your resolve hardening. the gas filled the air once again, and the world faded into unconsciousness. when you awoke, you were back in the same vast dormitory, the green jumpsuit hanging from your frame like a prison uniform.

˚ ༘♡ to your surprise, and perhaps dismay, sang-woo had returned as well. he stood apart from the crowd, his expression carefully neutral, as though he had already resigned himself to whatever horrors lay ahead. you couldn’t help but feel a pang of curiosity and frustration. what could have brought him back to this nightmare? but his presence, as unsettling as it was, also brought a sliver of comfort. at least one person here wasn’t a complete stranger. whether he acknowledged you or not, the fact that he was there, breathing the same air, enduring the same fate, made the unbearable feel slightly less isolating.

˚ ༘♡ as you climbed through the maze of brightly colored block structures on your way to the second game, the oppressive silence among the players was broken only by the occasional scrape of shoes against the smooth surfaces. the atmosphere was suffocating, each person wrapped in their own thoughts of survival. as you reached the next passageway, you caught sight of sang-woo walking a few steps ahead, his broad shoulders unmistakable even in the dull green jumpsuit. you quickened your pace, weaving around other players until you came up beside him.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo?” you called out hesitantly, unsure if he even wanted to be acknowledged. “it’s good to see you.”

˚ ༘♡ he turned to face you, his expression weary, his sharp features softened by exhaustion. his glasses were gone, leaving his face bare in a way that felt unfamiliar. the hollowness in his eyes made your heart ache, a stark contrast to the composed man you once knew. “it’s good to see you as well,” he said quietly, though his tone carried an undercurrent of shame. his gaze drifted downward, as though he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes for long.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, unsure whether to press him further, but the words poured out before you could stop them. “sang-woo, i had no idea you were in so much debt. i thought…” you faltered, the unfinished sentence hanging heavily in the air. you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud, the claims you’d heard about client embezzlement and loans swirling in your mind. surely, he wouldn’t have stolen money from his workplace? the man you thought you knew wouldn’t sink to such levels, or so you hoped.

˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression tightening. “we can talk later, alright?” his voice was calm, but the subtle edge warned you not to push further. he looked away, focusing on the corridor ahead, his discomfort palpable.

˚ ༘♡ before you could respond, the masked guards appeared, their presence commanding immediate attention. one of them stepped forward, his voice cold and distorted as he barked instructions. “players, form a line in front of the four doors, triangle, circle, star, and umbrella.” the straightforward simplicity of the directive only heightened your unease. no explanation was given, and the purpose of the shapes remained a mystery.

˚ ༘♡ you watched as sang-woo leaned toward the group of players he had been speaking with, his voice low but audible. “we should split up,” he suggested. “i’ll take the triangle.” his tone was measured, but there was something deliberate in the way he spoke, as though he knew more than he was letting on.

˚ ༘♡ you stepped closer, offering him a faint smile. “i’ll take the star,” you said, trying to inject a bit of optimism into the tension-filled space.

˚ ༘♡ his jaw tightened visibly, and he shook his head, the motion slow and deliberate. “no,” he said, his voice firm. his friends had already dispersed, blending into the lines forming at the other doors, but he didn’t move. his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching.

˚ ༘♡ “why not?” you asked, confused by his sudden insistence.

˚ ༘♡ he hesitated, the pause stretching long enough to feel significant. “i think you should stick with me,” he said finally. “for a woman, the next game could be dangerous, and you might need protection. choose triangle with me.”

˚ ༘♡ there was something in his tone, persuasive as it could be, that made it impossible to refuse. though his reasoning unsettled you, you nodded, falling into line behind him as the players shuffled forward. your eyes scanned the room anxiously, searching for any clue as to what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ when the game was finally revealed, your stomach sank. the guards handed each player a thin tin containing a piece of dalgona candy. the shape on the door you had chosen corresponded to the delicate imprint in the sugar, triangle for you and sang-woo. the instructions were chillingly simple, extract the shape from the brittle candy without breaking it. failure meant elimination.

˚ ༘♡ as you stared down at the candy in your hands, your breath hitched. the triangle, though angular and sharp, was mercifully the easiest of the shapes. your fingers trembled as you picked up the needle provided, its point glinting under the harsh overhead lights. you glanced at sang-woo, who was already at work on his candy, his face an unreadable mask. you offered him a small, grateful smile, relieved that his advice had spared you a more complicated shape. he acknowledged it with a weak nod but didn’t look up from his task.

˚ ༘♡ the room was filled with the sound of quiet scraping, interspersed with the occasional crack of breaking candy and the deafening gunshots that followed. each failure sent a ripple of fear through the players, the stakes of the game becoming all too real. your hands shook uncontrollably as you traced the edges of the triangle, the needle’s tip scraping against the delicate surface. beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ finally, with painstaking caution, you lifted the triangle free from the candy, the edges intact. relief flooded through you, though your hands continued to tremble as you approached one of the masked guards. holding up the completed shape, you waited for his acknowledgment. “player 218, player 017, pass,” the voice from the speaker announced, devoid of emotion.

˚ ༘♡ as you and sang-woo stepped into the expansive player quarters, the dim lighting and echo of murmured conversations created an atmosphere that felt dreadful yet oddly subdued. the space was filled with rows of bunks stacked high, each one occupied by players whose expressions ranged from numb exhaustion to quiet fear. you glanced around briefly before turning your attention to him, your gratitude bubbling to the surface.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo, you saved my life,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. the words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. “i wouldn’t have had the precision or patience to cut out the star. thank you for convincing me to choose triangle.”

˚ ༘♡ he paused mid-step, his shoulders tensing ever so slightly as he turned to look at you. his expression was calm, but there was something unreadable in his gaze, a flicker of thought he didn’t voice. you tilted your head, your curiosity piqued as a question formed in your mind. “did you know it was going to be dalgona?” your voice held both curiosity and suspicion. he was intelligent, brilliant, in fact. it wouldn’t have surprised you if he had pieced together clues that no one else had noticed. but then again, if he had known, wouldn’t he have told his friends?

˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he looked almost reluctant to answer. “i didn’t,” he said finally, his tone measured and deliberate. “it was a lucky guess, i suppose.” but there was something about the way he said it that left you unconvinced. his words felt too crafted, too careful, as if he were guarding a truth he wasn’t ready to share.

˚ ༘♡ before you could probe further, he shifted the conversation, his gaze tender as he looked at you. “come on,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you look like you’re about to collapse, and i can hardly stay upright myself after how draining that game was. let’s try and relax our nerves.”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, the tension in your body loosening slightly as his words pulled you away from your thoughts. together, you made your way to an unoccupied bunk in one of the quieter corners of the dormitory. as you sat down, the fatigue of the day hit you like a wave, the adrenaline that had kept you going during the game now fully drained from your system.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo leaned against the metal frame of the bunk, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. his face was pale under the fluorescent lights, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed how much the game had taken out of him. for a moment, the silence between you felt almost comfortable, a reprieve from the chaos that had defined the day.

˚ ༘♡ “you know,” you said after a while, your voice barely above a whisper, “i don’t know how you stayed so calm out there. i felt like i was going to fall apart the entire time.”

˚ ༘♡ he let out a low breath, not quite a sigh, as his eyes shifted to the floor. “i wasn’t calm,” he admitted. “i was terrified, but fear doesn’t help you survive. you have to focus, no matter what.” his words were matter-of-fact, but there was an edge to them, a glimpse of the pressure he carried that he rarely allowed others to see.

˚ ༘♡ you studied him for a moment, your gratitude mingling with a growing sense of unease. there was so much about him that remained a mystery, layers of calculation and restraint that made it impossible to fully understand what he was thinking. but for now, you were too tired to dwell on it.

˚ ༘♡ “thank you, sang-woo,” you said again, your voice softer this time. you meant it, not simply for his advice during the game, but for the quiet sense of stability he brought in a world that felt increasingly unmoored.

˚ ༘♡ he gave a faint nod, his lips curving into the barest hint of a smile. “get some rest,” he said, his tone gentle but steadfast. “tomorrow will probably be worse.”

a/n: can you all tell my favorite character is cho sang-woo? don’t worry, part two of the hwang in-ho x wife series will be out soon! let me know your thoughts! 🤍

[glassrowboat]

Lights! Camera! Headcanons! Reca.

SFW collection of silly HCs!

- Little Miss Frog is only ever oiled by Reca. He doesn't trust anyone else to be as thorough with her joints as he is.

- Reca has multiple hats for his favorite assistant director, it's just the one we see her wearing all the time is her favorite

- If for some reason you ever needed to switch shoes with Reca, he would gladly do so. After all, what kind of love interest would he be if he couldn't even do that much? The only problem is that he looks better in your heels than you ever have.

- He has a pair of shades with a print of old TV static on the lenses. They are not practical at all but he still uses them.

- This man does not know the meaning of the word subtlety

- You're getting atrocious petnames 24/7, to the point you even begin to think he's forgotten your actual name. It's always love muffin this, honey bear that- and if you ever jokingly refer to yourself as one of them it might as well become a part of Reca’s daily vocabulary.

- He has had multiple people in the past pointing a remote at him to see if they could pause the YouTube play button in his eyes. Now, whenever he sees someone holding one close to him, Reca just snatches it because he's that fed up.

- The button can change, but he's never telling you how it works.

- “The mystery only compels you further to my character, sweetie pie.”

- Please do not trust this man with cooking. He's more of an order in kind of guy and trust that that's preferable over letting him near a stove, oven, or even a microwave on some days. However, he will set the table and clean the dishes for you- it just might take a while because he's busy editing a script.

- Has picked up tons of little facts over the years from all the research he's put behind films. You could ask the most random questions and he'll undoubtedly have an answer- even if it concerns you how he knows how to dispose of a full body.

- On that note, Reca knows a good handful of the meanings behind names, so when someone introduces themselves to him, he usually ends up deciding if that “meaning” fits their character.

- Usually, it doesn't.

- Aka: Crew members

- It's easier that way.

- Those who are a regular part of his filming crew all carry earplugs with them now as a habit after having to listen to Reca's …excited shouting.

- He disapproves of relationships amongst the cast. There's always going to be issues working with people, but he doesn't need the entire film getting pushed aside because one couple had a fight! It’s utterly nonsensical to bring that onto his set. Save that for after everything has wrapped up.

- Anyone listen to Distractible and Markiplier’s entire stunt with lenses? Reca's worse. That's your only warning.

- After your first kiss, when Reca was walking back home, all self accomplished, he jumped up and cracked his feet together- completely unironically. He's not even ashamed about it, either.

- If Reca didn't start on Broadway as part of the crew, then he at least had some experience with it. (He was the theater kid in school). He knows a good couple of songs off the top of his head at this point, and when this one particular song comes on, he always has to stop himself from dancing.

- Owns a gramophone, but it only works half the time. Reca claims it's part of its charm….

- You've watched him mix redbull and coffee together only to drink it all down in a single sitting, then walk away without an explanation. That entire night he was yapping in your ear excitedly only to fall asleep on top of you as soon as it hit 4am.

- Reca tends to repeat the stories he's told you. He just loves them so much that he gets a little ahead of himself and forgets which ones he's shared, that's all. Plus, with his flair for the dramatic and tendency to add in a new line or two, it keeps things fresh.

- Reca affectionately pinches your nose using that baby voice of his. It’s supposed to be an affectionate gesture, in his own way, but it just comes across as annoying.

- Reca will pick you up and spin you around (just like the movies) but at the same time this man will happily let himself flop into your lap with a hand to his forehead so he can lament to you about his woes. Usually, this just means he wants attention.

- He gets busy with filming a lot, to the point you both can go up to a month without really getting anything more in than a one minute call. Usually, Reca is running around during these, or he's so close to passing out after a long day that you're left with the sound of him snoring on the other end of the line.

- Because he's famous, there are actually a good couple of edits and images of Reca made into memes you see when scrolling online.

- His handwriting is comically large. To the point it takes up so much space, Reca might as well be writing a signature instead of scrawling down notes to ensure he doesn't forget a fantastic idea.

- He writes his 7's with that little line crossing it.

- Reca is the type to grab your shoulder while he's laughing. And he does this whether you know him well or not.

[bluelockmaniac]

⊹ ࣪ ˖𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓-𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄

↳ "a cute first encounter which leads to a romantic relationship later on."

★ ft. reo, nagi, gagamaru, chigiri, sae (separate) x gn!reader

a/n: basically, you do not recognize these professional players during ur first encounter, & their reactions. biased about sae so i made him a oneshot :)

𝐑𝐄𝐎 could not help but chuckle when you bumped into him while you were at a lavish boutique, admiring items you could only dream of affording, mistaking him for one of the store’s extravagant employees. it was amusing that you did not recognize him as either the heir of the mikage corporation, or the popular football player that he is. he found your obliviousness quite refreshing. when he flashed you his well-known smile, the kind that usually made girls fall head over heels, he noticed your reaction— it seemed you had also gone weak at the knees. without hesitation, he reached into his suit’s breast pocket and handed you his business card, containing his contact information.

𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 couldn’t care less that you didn’t recognize him, bluntly speaking. sure, he was slightly annoyed when you accidentally bumped into him just as he was about to beat the final level of the arcade game he had always struggled with, but at the same time, he had always found it a hassle being pestered by weird fans all the time and dealing with their constant attention. being a renowned player was tedious, and for nagi, it meant he couldn’t enjoy arcades like he used to before his fame, always swarmed with admirers. when he saw your apologetic, innocent face turn into one of awe as you glanced at his booth’s screen, and when you expertly helped him beat the game, he couldn’t help but give you both his phone number and his roblox username.

𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐔 fell in love at first sight. not because you were unable to recall who he was— after all, as goalkeeper instead of a striker, he did not expect much recognition anyway— but because you were bravely camping alone deep in the mountains (probably a dare, but that’s besides the point), where visitors were nonexistent. you had fainted out of fear when gagamaru approached you in his bear costume, and so he was currently sitting next to your unconscious form as he set up a fire, guarding you from any potential dangers. he was surprised and innocently confused when you fainted again upon regaining consciousness. perhaps he looked scary? no, there was nothing frightening about a gigantic 6’3 foot man dressed in bear skin in the mountains at night.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐈 was taken aback, and quite possibly offended, when you bumped into him in the hair care section, then with a sweet smile, told him he could work for some no-name modeling agency with a face as pretty as his. sure, the compliment was nice and all, and it fed into his already inflated ego, but he already receives lots of praise on his social media and strangers, whether they’re fans or not, on a daily basis. what bothered him was that someone as beautiful as you had never heard of the glamorous, speedy football star, and recommended he join an obscure agency no one has heard about? the least you could have done was recommend a notable modeling agency! after you inquired about his hair and skin care routine, he decided he was going to give you his phone number so he could teach you (and maybe brag about who he is).

𝐒𝐀𝐄 — click here for the one shot !

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[skyahri]

Get Over it |Madara Uchiha X Reader| HC

Summary: You're the Hokage's assistant just trying to do your job.

Warning: Fem pronouns. Madara is an asshole.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Hashirama was definitely behind you and Madara meeting.

Anytime he needed something delivered to the Uchiha compound, he sent you- his cute little assistant.

Despite the fact that Madara was at the Hokage's office almost daily, you still found yourself making a trip to the compound every evening.

Madara was always rude, asking you why you were bothering him despite already knowing. He'd have you leave whatever it is was you had brought on his desk and shoo you away.

Today, he was a little moodier than usual. Maybe he was having a bad day, maybe he was just fed up with you, who knows.

When you knocked on his office door and slid in, he immediately started yelling.

"Must you bother me every day, woman?"

"It's Hokage's orders, Madara-sama."

"Then ignore them. I'm tired of you interrupting me every day."

"I'm afraid I cannot-"

"You can and will. I am Madara Uchiha, head of the Uchiha clan and I order you to-"

"Well, Mr. Madara Uchiha, head of the Uchiha clan, I don't answer to you. I'm afraid you'll just have to take it up with Hashirama or get over it."

And with that you left his office, shutting the door a bit harder behind you than you usually would.

To say Madara was stunned would be an understatement.

Was he just belittled by a civilian woman?

He wouldn't stand for this.

So he immediately made his way to the Hokage building to confront his dear friend about his unruly assistant.

Hashirama just laughed at him, and that made Madara all the more sour.

"Keep your people in check, Hashirama."

"Why? Are you threatened by her? Can't handle being yelled at?"

He stormed out after Tobirama started snickering at him.

The next day, he anxiously waited for your arrival. He'd been stewing over your encounter from the previous day and it wss fueling the fire in his belly.

So when he heard your usual knocks, he stood up and made himself as big as possible, like a bear.

You walked in, unphased by his damming aura, handed him a single scroll, and turned to leave.

He moved in front of the door to stop you from leaving, not satisfied by how this encounter was going.

"You will speak to me with respect from now on. I do not tolerate such behavior."

"Yeah, I still don't answer to you. My job is to be amicable, not a kiss ass. So again, take it up with Hashirama, or get over it."

You put your hand on his arm and gently moved him out of the way of the door. He allowed this, for whatever reason, and just watched as you made your way out.

Now you'd definitely caught his interest.

It's not that he liked being talked down to, it that he loved being challenged.

For the next few weeks, he allowed you to do your job without issue. He'd just stare at you as you came in, delivered whatever stupid thing Hashirma had sent, and left.

That is until today, when you had shown up several hours later than usual. It was dark out, and you were visibly tired.

"You're late."

"My apologies, Madara-sama. It was busier than usual today."

You handed him the envelope and turned to leave, ready to finally be done with the day.

You noticed Madara get up and move alongside you, but didn't pay much mind. It was entirely possible he was just making his way home as well.

Until you'd arrived at the gates of the compound, he was still at your side.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm escorting you home."

"Um, okay? May I ask why?"

"Hashirama is a fool for allowing you to wonder the village at night unaccompanied. I feel I must make up for his stupidity and ensure you get home safely."

You just nodded. It was honestly a relief.

The office had been overwhelmed today because of rogue shinobi reports in the area. Having Madara with you basically guaranteed you'd have a safe trip, so you didn't argue with him any further.

The next few days went similarly.

A cluster of reports and actual captured rogues had kept you up to your neck with work until odd hours of the night.

After the first few instances of you showing up late, Madara had taken it upon himself to meet you at the Hokage's tower. You were thankful, with for the relief from walking all the way to the compound and also to have your own personal guard.

He kept doing this even after things had settled down, and before he knew it, he'd grown quite fond of your presence.

Your nightly walks had turned more casual and became more frequent outside of your working hours.

Over time he'd opened up to you and that's when the relationship really blossomed.

He was torn between his traditional values and his aversion to emotions, but eventually, he caved and asked to court you.

Obviously, you said yes, and so started the beginning of a lifelong relationship with the unlikely man.

[sorcerous-caress]

Hello!! I love your writing 😍 Would it be okay if you wrote Karlach, Lae'zel and whomever you wish with a tiefling!Tav that loses both a horn and an eye during a battle and can't quite find balance in their fighting afterwards bc of it?

Reacting to Tav losing a horn/eye

[Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, nb!reader, Tiefling!reader]

[Karlach, Laezel, Wyll, Halsin]

Karlach

She swears she can still hear it, your agonised scream, the splatter of blood, the crunch of bone being torn apart.

As if the world slowed down for a moment, an eerie quietness surrounding the battlefield for the uncomfortable stretched out seconds. Your companions turning to look at you, clutching your eye with your back hunched.

Dread filled her stomach, one of your horns laid on the bloody floor next to your feet.

She doesn't remember the rest. Only when she stood atop the burnt rubble of what used to be the battlefield, did the all-consuming rage fade away from her mind.

Karlach is immediately at your side after, apologising for not being there sooner.

She's by your side as you heal, making sure to bring you anything you might need. As your struggles to adjust to combat again in the aftermath become more and more evadint, she is one of the first people to suggest fully leaving combat to her.

Yes, you are capable. Yes, she has seen how strong you are. But sometimes life just doesn't go the way we plan it. You can relay on her instead.

You don't have to go back to the cruel world. You can let her take care of it. Karlach really can't afford losing you. She'd claw her way up the heavens and steal you away if your fate took a turn to the worse.

Laezel

She completely disagrees with Karlach. This is nothing but a minor setback if anything. Laezel completely has faith in you to relearn how to find your balance, and she'll teach you if she has to.

As long as you can still stand on your feet and carry a sword, then you can fight in her eyes. She will give her sincere apologies for letting you down in battle and not doing something before enemeis got the chance to best you, but besides it, you'll get no pity from her.

Why is everyone acting as if you died? You're clearly still the same strong and capable person she knows. If anything, each scar is evidence of how your enemies' failure to put you down, you should show your broken horn with pride.

She has enough self awareness not to impose her views on you, no matter how much she thinks her companions are being dramatic and oversensitive, is she noticed you being fully uncomfortable with her approach she will take her leave from your bedside.

But you got fed up with people infantlising you, then she will be the first to 6pull you back into an intense daily training routine until you regain your footing.

Wyll

While Karlach and Laezel were too busy arguing about your own fate, Wyll was there for you throughout every stage of healing. He knows what it's it like losing an eye. He can relate to the horror and dissociation that happens whenever you look at the mirror to see a piece of yourself missing.

He still hasn't gotten used to his own horns himself, and losing one of yours must have been painful to bear. He will stay by your side until you feel better, no pressure to discuss the future or your fighting abilities or anything.

Wyll will make sure you don't feel alone, that the dark thoughts don't consume you too much. Share you worries with him, let him help carry your burdens, please. It kills him seeing someone so dear to him suffer when he can't do anything or help.

Halsin

His heart breaks, seeing you coming back to camp limbing and bloodied that day. He prays to Silvanus to ease your pain as he takes shift with Shadowheart to nurse you back to health with healing spells.

Nature can be so unforgiving sometimes, to some animals, losing an eye or horn can be a death sentence.

But he has seen even the most withered of plants suddenly flourish and regain their strength, he has personally stayed up countless nights to care for the weak kittens that their mother refused to even acknowledge.

He has seen them grow, nurtured them into a strong healthy state.

Don't surrendered to the darkness, when the abyss starts whispering about how this is your end and how your potential was wasted you yell at the abyss, bite, claw and fight your way out of this rut.

True strength lies in the heart, give yourself time to rest, and don't rush your healing. Eventually, you'll be back on your own two feet with a new view on the world before you can realise it.

[intothedysphoria]

The house was tiny.

Steve took a moment to take in the peeling paint and rusty doorframe (god he didn’t want hepatitis) before knocking as confidently as possible when it felt as if the door might cave in.

The things he did to see his boyfriend more than once a week.

(Steve would remember later that Billy used to live with a father who called him “that damn Jew” whenever they “hung out”. So maybe the new situation wasn’t that bad.)

A man who looked like, despite being eighty, he could still probably take on a bear, opened the door with a suspicious look on his face. He then gave an even more suspicious look at Steve’s footwear.

“Billy’s lad?”

The man spoke with a heavy Irish accent and Steve quickly realised he was speaking to Billy’s grandfather.

He nodded and was then ushered inside, choosing to ignore the grumble of “Americans”, which he could have done without.

Billy was sitting behind the kitchen counter, wearing a soccer uniform and chatting animatedly with an elderly woman. She pinched his cheek and then addressed Steve in the same cadence.

“Will you be wanting any tea love?”

Her voice was like being plunged into a hot bath, but pleasantly so. Steve grabbed a mug, tracing his fingers over the intricate designs. Billy decided to acknowledge him at last by loosely cupping their hands together.

“How’s it been Harrington?”

How had life without Billy been? Steve being stuck in the same old small town while Billy had moved an entire continent away?

Cold. Lonely. A depressing amount of crying.

Steve forced a wafer thin smile to curl up onto his lips.

“Fine. It’s been fine. So how’s Killarney?”

Billy’s face lit up. He loved Ireland, maybe even more than he had California. The only people he’d really missed had been Steve, Max and Eddie Munson (Munson’s Welsh, he gets it).

And Heather.

They didn’t bring up Heather.

Billy’s grandparents seemed to choose to ignore when they left to go upstairs together, only throwing out a “be down for dinner love” at Billy.

Not even Steve’s family cared that little. And yet it was so clear that the O’Connors cared very much.

Billy was fed, clean and healthy. He was in sports, and while he didn’t seem softer exactly, there was a happiness to him that Steve had never really seen before. He’d even began to lose his American accent, vowels mellowing out when he spoke.

They lay under the covers of Billy’s bed, Billy complaining about no decent metal bands coming to an area as rural as this, and Steve reached out. Melted further in his boyfriend’s arms.

Billy huffed out a small laugh and kissed him.

“We’ll be alright Steve. I promise.”

Steve did his best to believe him but already felt like he was being forgotten.

@shieldofiron your daily angst

[imagines--galore]

Hello! Can I request a fake dating fic with Clark with coworker and best friend reader please :)

Pairing: Superman(Clark Kent) x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Oooooooooooo I ADORE the fake-dating trope! Meep! Also vote for the second part here.

"Your mother thinks what?!"

Several nosy reporters poked their heads up from where they had been working on their latest scoops. Only to be greeted with the sight of you dragging Clark by the sleeve of his shirt and into the empty conference room. To anyone new it would've been an unusual sight, seeing someone as tall as Clark Kent be dragged by someone at least a head or two shorter them him. But the workers at the Daily Planet were used to seeing the two of you together.

Once inside the conference room and assured that no one else would hear you or Clark, you turned you attention back to him

"Keep your voice down!" You huffed, before giving a small shrug. "And its not a big deal."

"A big deal?! Y/n, you lied to your mother." The corner of your mouth twitched and you were unable to meet the disappointed look in his blue eyes. "I didn't lie to her per se."

Clark rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his broad chest. "Well you didn't correct her either."

Pouting slightly you threw him an accusing look. "Yeah well, its your fault isn't it? You shouldn't have gotten me such an expensive gift for my birthday! She just saw the necklace and when she asked who gave it to me I said you did, and then she just assumed we were going out and I.......I didn't correct her." Your voice trailed off, seeing that you weren't really going to win this argument.

At the mention of the necklace, your fingers had unconsciously lifted to run the tips of them along the piece of jewelry that you had taken to wearing since Clark gave it to you.

It was truly a gorgeous piece, and now counted as one of your most prized possessions. Not because it was probably expensive, but because Clark had been the one to give it to you. His gaze dropped to your throat as well, where the necklace lay just between your collarbone.

"And now she has invited us over this weekend to meet me?" Clark confirmed, finally meeting your eyes once more to which you gave a nod. "Well she wants to meet the new beau, her words not mine." You were quick to clarify, your eyes widening in horror at the word that had slipped you. "So you're suggesting we spend an entire evening together, and pretend that we're dating?"

You gave a little flinch. "Sounds cliché, I know." Clark only shook his head. "I should really stop you from watching those rom-coms you're always crying over." He grumbled under his breath. "Too many romantic ideas in your head makes for these kinds of situations."

You bristled. "Hey! I'll have you know I watch classical rom-coms, none of those new hallmark rom-coms that makes you wanna puke." You had a particular taste when it came to the movies you watched, although your best friend's taste was significantly different then yours.

Yes.

Best friends.

You and Clark were best friends who were now being roped into fake-dating. Why? Because you were too much of a coward to come out and tell the truth to your over-bearing hard to please mother.

This would either go really good or turn into a complete disaster.

                                             ————————–

A few hours later you and Clark were both at his apartment, sharing the food you had ordered to bribe him further.

"Well I suppose we should start setting the rules and such? At least thats what they do in movies." You suggested, once the Kryptonian had managed to go through half the food. A well-fed Clark was a happy Clark, you had learned long ago.

"Remind me again why am I doing this for you?" He asked, digging into your takeout container to steal one your chicken pieces. You smacked his chopsticks away with your own, pulling the container out of his reach.

"Because I'm buying you dinner here, and also because you love me." You stated in such a off-handed manner as you stuffed your mouth with chicken that you didn't even notice how Clark stiffened at your side at your words.

Polishing off the food you began to speak. "They'll be coming in a couple days, so dress nice, and appropriately. Make sure to wear your coat. I know you have an internal heater given that you're freakin' E.T." You gestured to his overall physique, to which he rolled his eyes at you. "But us puny humans get cold a lot, so coat, hat, and gloves."

"I know, Y/n." He said in an exasperated tone, to which you grinned. You loved messing with him, acting all delicate and weak just to tease him about his strength and powers. It was all in good fun though.

"She already knows how we met, and will probably ask really nosy questions. Dad will just sit there quietly and let her do all the talking. Besides he already likes you so you don't have to win him over." Clark looked up from where he had been pouring himself a drink.

"He does?" You smiled at him. His blue eyes were so hopeful and the smile he wore was so adorable. Did it really matter to him that your parents liked him?

You shrugged. "Well yeah. I mean I did tell him how you helped me out with the stalker situation, without telling him that you were Superman, and he was really grateful. Said it was good that I had someone sensible looking out for me." You poked your tongue out at the triumphant look in his eyes. "I agree with your father, between the two of us one of us should be the sensible one."

Raising an eyebrow at him you leaned towards him, arms wrapped around your legs which you had pulled up on the couch. Your eyes narrowed. "Remind me which one of us flies around wearing a cape and goes around actually looking for trouble?"

Clark gave a smug smile, leaning back against the couch and resting the back of his head on his forearm. "At least I can handle trouble. If I didn't, I couldn't have handled you all these years now could I?"

You scoffed, though you were unable to fight off the smirk that pulled at your lips. "Oh please. You? Handle me? I'd like to see you try."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Do you honestly need one Kent?"

"I am a gentleman Y/L/N. Of course I do."

"Alright fine! If you pull off convincing my mother we're dating, I'll let you handle me however you want."

Translation: You would do whatever he asked you to do.

"And if I loose, I'll take you up to the Watch Tower again."

"Sounds good! I'm due for a gossip session with Wally and Diana."

He stuck out his hand. "May the best of us win." You grinned, grasping his hand within your own and giving it a firm shake. "Oh, I will."

Clark only smirked. When it came to betting and competitions, you both had rather competitive streaks. Sometimes he would win, and other times you were the victor. It was always fun to one-up the other.

And you had a feeling this little competition would take the cake.

                                             ————————–

The day of the dinner arrived, and you spent the entire day pampering yourself. Just because it was a fake dinner date with your parents, with your fake boyfriend, it didn't mean you couldn't be looking nice.

Good think it was a Saturday. You were meeting your parents in the evening, and Clark would be picking you up. You had only just put the finishing touches on your makeup when the bell rang. Dashing to the door, quite the feat since you were wearing heels, you pulled it open.

The sight that greeted you had your mind short-circuiting.

Both of your office attires were semi-formal at best, and at home both of you wore the worst of your clothes. And though the image of Clark as Superman was impressive enough, nothing could beat the sight that your eyes feasted on right then.

You had told him to dress nicely, and clean up. And damn, did he clean up good. Under the winter coat he had on, he was wearing a black suit that was tailored to show off his muscular body perfectly. The shirt under the jacket was a deep red, which actually looked quite good with the black tie. You had a sudden urge to tug him forward by grabbing it, but you refrained yourself.

Little did you know, Clark was battling his own inner dilemma. Seeing you standing there in the dress you had chosen for the evening. Wearing the necklace he had gotten you. You were already beautiful on a daily basis, but right then you looked absolutely stunning.

Managing to come back to the present, you gave him a quick smile. "You clean up nice Kent. Just let me grab my coat and we'll get going." You pivoted on your heel to retrieve the garment, completely missing the way his blue eyes roamed the expanse of bare skin the dress left exposed.

Tonight would be a long night for him.

                                             ————————–

"So far so good."

You heaved a sigh as you slumped into your chair, with Clark drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. You mother had gone to the powder room while your father stepped out for a quick smoke, under the pretense of a phone call.

"I now understand where you get your perceptive nature from." He attempted to joke, recalling to all the questions your mother had thrown at the both of you over the course of the evening.

"Yes, but unlike my mother, I know when to stop." You muttered, taking yet another sip of your wine. You had topped off long ago, and were still going strong. You needed all the alcohol you could get when it came to dealing with your mother.

"Well we're just left with dessert." He pointed out as the waiter brought their choice of desserts and left. You didn't even wait for your parents to get back, starting to dig into the chocolate tart you had ordered. Clark shot you an amused glance to which you held out a spoonful of chocolatey goodness for him to taste. He obliged, never once breaking eye contact with you. And the absolutely sinful way his mouth wrapped around the spoon had an involuntary shudder course through your entire body.

The feeling had become rather frequent since the start of the evening.

When Clark had taken your hand to help you out of the cab.

When his hand had rested against the bare skin of your exposed back.

When he had settled beside you and offered you a reassuring smile.

When you had rested a comforting hand on his thigh when your mother's words had become a little too harsh and you had defended him.

When your foot had slid to touch his under the table and had stayed there for the rest of the evening.

When you had allowed your pinkies to touch when both your hands had rested next to one another on the table.

When your eyes had met and he had recounted the time he had first met you. You had never considered the moment from his point of view, and your heart had nearly melted at what he had described.

How he had thought you were one of the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. How he adored the way you were able to call him out on his bullshit. How he could just be himself when he was around you.

It was a pity all of this was pretend.

Or was it?

As he pulled away from the spoon, your eyes drifted to his lips where a small chocolate smudge had remained. You had no idea what compelled you to reach out and gently wipe away the thick chocolate.

Only to bring the digit to your lips and licking it clean.

You definitely weren't imagining the way Clark's eyes darkened, his light blue orbs suddenly taking on a stormy sheen that had you shivering deliciously.

This had to be an award-winning performance right?

Whatever trance the two of you were in was broken by the arrival of your mother, loudly complaining about something in the powder room that wasn't to her liking. You turned your attention back to her, with Clark a little surprised that your mother had been so oblivious to the moment you and him had been having just a moment ago.

Suddenly Clark sat up straight. You frowned at him as he quickly stood and muttering something about a phone call walked out of the restaurant, just as your father returned.

He returned moments later. "I apologize everyone, but Mr. White needs me to cover a story and I need to get going right now." He said, picking up his coat from the back of his chair as he did. From the urgency in his voice you quickly deduced that it was superhero business.

"Well now!' Your mother began indignantly to which you quickly cut her off. "The life of a reporter. Always on the clock." You said with a small laugh as you stood as well.

"Enjoy the rest of the evening everyone. And don't worry about the bill." Clark added with a charming smile. He was doing that on purpose, you knew.

He turned his attention to you and you smiled at him. "Well go do your job then and be careful." You straightened the collar of his coat. He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Before you could say anything else he quickly leaned down, cupping the side of your face, to press a chaste kiss to your lips. It was a simple brush of the lips, and yet you felt it to the very tips of your toes.

It was over just as soon as it had begun.

"I'll see you later." He muttered as he pulled back before he was off.

You stood there for a few more seconds before slowly sliding into your seat once more.

"I suppose your taste in men has improved significantly Y/n." You heard your mother say. You glanced up at her, still a little lost from having Clark kiss you.

"He's a good one, honey." Your father said gently, giving your hand a small pat.

Just then the big screen television that had been playing some program in the background was interrupted with some breaking news. News that showed Superman and the Justice League fighting yet another threat to Earth.

And while the rest of the patrons and staff clamored to get closer to the screen your eyes never left Clark's face as the camera showed him as Superman, as he rescued civilians.

"He is." You softly spoke, more so to yourself then your parents, as you smiled at the next thought.

Seems he won your little bet this time around.

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (Catching Fire, Ch. 11)

probably one of my fave everlark-heavy chapters and one i believe is so important and so huge for their relationship development. it's long but please bear with me because it's such a great chapter and there's so much to say and it'll be worth it!!! this is my best one

i love how haymitch and peeta have just become a part of katniss's family. like they don't seem out of place just sitting playing chess in her house.

peeta instantly picking up on her being hurt when she makes that noise and holding her steadily once he does

peeta carrying katniss up the stairs and tucking her into bed

katniss catching and holding his hand to keep him there and trying to fight off her lowered inhibitions due to the sleep syrup. that whole 'drunk words are sober thoughts' thing. she's fighting hard to 'control her tongue' but man, i wish she would've let go. there she goes keeping secrets from us again as the unreliable narrator

her holding his hand against her face, him warming her hand in his own. ugh. HANDS.

"stay with me" - the fact that she doesn't tell us what peeta says here but we know from mockingjay that he says 'always.' more evidence that peeta was endgame, carefully constructed by suzanne collins herself, from chapter one of book one

peeta being a husband and making sure katniss gets her daily cheese buns. for so much of the trilogy so far, we have seen gale be synonymous with providing for katniss and her family through hunting but peeta was that figure when he gave her the burnt bread and he's also that figure now, constantly providing her family with bread, keeping them fed and warm.

it is so IMPORTANT that katniss includes peeta in her family plant book project. it is her family book, passed on through generations. her mother and father worked on it together. it is so deeply hers and she lets him in. she lets him become a part of her family book by asking him to draw the pictures and including him in the process. i actually can't overstate the importance of this. this is something they do together that also later, after the war, becomes a crucial part of their healing process (and haymitch also ends up contributing - family!). at this point in the trilogy, he is her family.

i'm just going to include most of this passage and do a full on analysis of it because it is IMPORTANT:

I like to watch his hands as he works, making a blank page bloom with strokes of ink, adding touches of colour to our previously black and yellowish book. His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I've seen flashes of this before: in the arena, or when he speaks to a crowd, or that time he shoved the Peacekeepers' guns away from me in District 11. I don't know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don't notice much because they're so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they're a light golden colour and so long I don't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks. One afternoon, Peeta stops shading a blossom and looks up so suddenly that I start, as though I were caught spying on him, which in a strange way maybe I was. But he only says, "You know, I think this is the first time we've ever done anything normal together." "Yeah," I agree. Our whole relationship has been tainted by the Games. Normal was never a part of it. "Nice for a change."

her fully checking him out as he works, his hands, his eyelashes. katniss describes him so poetically, like the sunshine slanting in from the window. what a romantic setting. she is constantly talking about him in sunlight (this is just one example) and it's like, in her eyes, there's always this glow around him, this light radiating from him. and then she gets caught checking him out.

peeta can make a blank page bloom with colour. and there we go with the language of growth again. this boy who radiates hope, possibility for katniss. this boy that she associates with life and with the growth of dandelions. he breathes life into things - in this case, her family book.

katniss is so intrigued by and deeply, carnally into his intensity. like she is down bad for him here. all her examples are examples of him protecting her: in the arena, in interviews, from the peacekeepers. she is so into this charming, dominant, protective, passionate side of him that i don't know how people can say she isn't romantically/sexually into him. like the proof is there. she doesn't know what to make of it because this side of him scratches an itch that she hasn't allowed herself to confront until now (and not even now, because she's unsure here but it's there. and we know she'll confront it after the war when she mentally can)

so far, katniss has been thinking that her relationship with peeta is the capitol's design. it is overwhelmed the the games, by the capitol, by snow, by the cameras, the flashing lights, the crowds, the having to 'act up' element of it, that katniss is constantly trying to tell herself that her connection to peeta is inauthentic in so many ways. but here, we see them in a 'normal' moment. a quiet intimate moment. a moment just for them. and it seems like bliss. removed from all the other capitol-forced elements, they choose to sit together and work on her family book and it is such a truly lovely moment for them. and it's not singular. while katniss is injured, they do it for a lengthy time. and i think that this particular chapter, this particular era of their relationship, post-victory tour and pre-quarter quell announcement, is when their relationship really develops to the point of katniss fully being in love with him. i think she was falling for him long before, and the victory tour also solidified them more but here, removed from the games and the capitol, given a sense of normalcy, i think katniss really got a taste of what life with peeta would be like, in all his shades. his kindness, his goodness, his intensity. she was thinking about all of it. him carrying her up and down stairs, bringing her bread, showing his passion/artistic talents, him just being there for her and her family, him looking after and protecting her despite her 'choosing' gale, how he looks, how he works, how he smiles and laughs, how he touches her. because of these days, she gets to the point where she's willing to die and leave prim and her mother behind to ensure peeta lives.

[damnesdelamer]

‘Socialism has never worked’?

What do you call Russia, China, and Cuba functionally eradicating homelessness and illiteracy in their respective spheres within a few years of the massive upheaval of revolution, and radically improving the living conditions of millions after generations of poverty? What do you call the Soviet Union bearing the brunt of the greatest military conflict the world has ever seen and emerging victorious? What do you call the Soviet Union holding out for four decades of sustained military and economic warfare against the greatest military and economic superpower the world has ever known? What do you call Vietnam defeating the greatest military empire the world has ever known in its anti-imperialist resistance campaign? What do you call China emerging from the 20th Century as the most populous country on earth with the highest GDP? What do you call China reducing daily covid numbers to double digits in a population of 1.4 billion? What do you call Cuba thriving after six decades of brutal embargoes? What do you call Cuba passing the most progressive and practically protective legislation for family and LGBT rights in a world historical moment marked by increased LGBTphobia among the Western powers? What do you call the people of Asia, Africa, Latin America, and Eastern Europe shrugging off the muck of ages to usher in an era of progress, all while Western powers conspire to sabotage them at every turn while growing fat off the earth they’ve scorched?

I’d ask what history books you’re reading, but I know that you’re not reading any, and the only information you have on the subject is spoon-fed into your colonised mind by the people’s enemies, whose vested interest in fabricating events is readily apparent to any who bother to look into these things.

‘Socialism has never worked’? It has been one of the dominant political-economic models of the past century, and has made drastic strides on every front despite its relative infancy and constant opposition from Western superpowers. If you fear socialism, what do you really fear? Socialism is the people. Socialism is me; socialism is you; socialism is all of us, together.

‘Socialism has never worked’? Socialism has always worked. Socialism is working right now. We will see socialism work again, always.

[faegoddessog]

Day 28: What happens when he's amazing

January's DDof AB @dailydoseofaustinbutler

Warnings: Bear with me as I try, maybe a little TOO hard, to include the daily theme. 🤦🏼‍♀️ I promise it'll be worth your while.

Peeps who may want to know! , @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight @thisworldisntrealhoney,  @1nho,  @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo  @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke @peggyao3

I pointed to a framed article hung on the wall. It was an old, faded magazine cover of Geology Monthly. A little girl holding two roughly spherical chunks of pyrite smiled from the cover. Her hair was in long braids and one adult tooth in front was only partially grown in. 

“This is me, I found those when we were digging the pond out there” I nodded to a shelf, two golden spheres sitting next to the other semi precious stones. I hoped he would put two and two together and get what I was trying to say. 

“ ‘A little girls’ Golden Globes?” Austin read the caption blazened over my head, He looked at me confused and shocked even. 

“Ok, it’s a terrible headline,” I admitted “ but look at the date.” I pointed, “I was seven. Austin… do the math.” 

He blinked twice and looked at me. I couldn't tell if he was astonished or  flabbergasted or simply fed up with me.

“Wait, is this what you are worried about?” he understood exactly what I was getting at. “After all this time, you think I care about what year you were born?” 

“What will people say,  Austin. They’ll roast you, roast us both.” I crossed my arms around my waist protectively trying to hold that terrified part of me at bay. 

“Pff, there is always someone saying whomever I’m with isn’t good enough and I’ve never fucking cared,” he said. 

“Not good enough, not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not young-” my mind started to spin.

 “No,” he interrupted,”no, none of that. Y’know what I’d say to any of that bullshit?” He put his arms on my shoulders lightly, recognizing my potential spiral.

I shook my head.

“She’s more that good enough, so beautiful, and so fucking sexy and so perfect for me.”

“Austin,” a smile tried to creep onto my face, but still had my doubts.

“We are both grown adults,” he stated, “and I’m long past the need to mold myself into what I think other people want. Besides, it’s not without precedent. Hugh Jackman, Sarah Paulson, Heidi Klum, they all have age gaps with their partners.” 

“I don’t need to be compared to Heidi Klum,” I could feel the insecurity fueled tears, “besides people would still-”

“Those people aren’t in here,” he poked his chest with his fingers, “they don’t get to dictate what I’m drawn to, what makes me happy, or what I love.”  

I took a shaky breath, letting his words sink into me. I let him carefully unwind my arms from my middle and place them around his waist. He brushed under my chin with his fingertips. I looked up into that stunning face that I had fallen so completely for. 

“And I’m so in love with you,” he said simply. 

[malicedragoness]

Ok, but what if Syzoth can transform into an actual lizard? Not a Zaterran (is this what they’re being called now?), but like a monitor lizard or an iguana. And he can accidentally change back when he’s caught off guard.

(Not proof read. We die like men. And if you can guess the 80s movie reference you get a cookie 🍪)

@bihansthot Syzoth fluff 🤗

Imagine it:

Syzoth only turns into an iguana when he’s extremely weak and is trying to hide from whoever is pursuing him.

He’s got gashes on him, he’s cold, and has been starving. He can’t hold his form anymore. He transforms and climbs into a tree to hide and make himself small. He tries to stay invisible until they’re gone, but it’s getting too difficult.

Once his pursuers are gone, he decides to rest there and falls asleep. Hours later, he wakes up when he hears a noise.

That’s when Syzoth meets you. You climbed a ladder to pick apples from the tree he’s hiding in. He continues to watch you, ready to transform and jolt if he has to. He’s still not sure if he’s able to. Everything hurts and he feels weak to his bones.

But the longer he watches you pick apples and sing to yourself, he realizes you’re not a threat. Your voice is lovely to his ears. Your hair is so pretty he wants to touch it. Everything about you, your body language and scent, seems so soft and gentle.

When you climb further up and get to his branch, you let out a surprise yelp when you see him.

“Oh my god! Are you ok, little guy?”

Syzoth couldn’t help but laugh internally. He must look horrible being surrounded in green blood. But your wide eyes and sweet voice was so cute.

“Are you alive?” He blinks when you reach to touch his nose.

You look at him and then down to the ground for a few minutes, contemplating your next move. You turn back and pet his nose again. “I’m going to pick you up and take you home, ok? Please let me help you. And please don’t bite me!”

Syzoth closed his eyes shut, pain searing through his body as you carefully pick him up. You settled him against your chest, his claws hooked onto your shirt, little tears already forming, and blood staining your shirt. He did his best to not sink his claws into your flesh, but the pain was making it hard to concentrate.

You climbed down the ladder, as slowly as you can, repeating “Please don’t bite me. Please don’t bite me. Please don’t bite me.” Once you were down the tree, you put him in your basket and took him home.

You spent the next few hours researching everything an iguana needs to survive. You bought a heat lamp, some fruits and greens, giant fake rocks. You’re not sure if you just throw the greens at him or cut them up to make it easier for him to eat. But you’re trying your best.

Syzoth watches you put a bowl of greens and fruits in front of his face and stare at him. If only he could tell you that he would be fine in a few days and all of this wasn’t necessary. Although, he did appreciate all the kind gestures.

After seeing you cry about him not eating the food and worrying about him dying, Syzoth decides to eat the food you prepared for him. His gentle heart couldn’t handle your tears, and it made him happy to see your face light up.

As the days go by, Syzoth lounged on his fake rocks, ate all the food you gave him, and watched you go about your daily routine. You kept calling him ‘Zammis’, and he had no idea what that meant.

He’s healed, but he’s had such a lovely time being with you that he doesn’t wish to go. He knows it’s wrong, keeping this secret from you. But you’re so happy with him there, he couldn’t bear the thought of you crying again.

You fed him his greens while watching a movie. (Another favorite thing of his to do, watching the moving pictures in the giant screen). A princess on the screen kissed a frog and he turned into a prince. You sighed and complained about how unrealistic that is.

Then your face filled Syzoth’s vision.

“Are you a prince, Zammis?”

Syzoth blinked. Then you leaned in further and kissed his nose.

Syzoth’s heart leapt in his throat. And suddenly he’s back in his human form, sitting in front of you on floor. Your hand still holding his bowl of greens and eyes wide as saucers.

“Z-Zammis?”

“Actually, it’s Syzoth, princess.” He said shyly.

[canaidliafail]

what she brings out of me

sadie adler x f!reader

4.5 k words MDI

old piece that isn’t proof read but I wanted to post it. Sort of canon compliant for 1/7 of the story so read at your own risk + bad english ahead. enjoy

hunting with Hosea was a chore more often than not but the man raised you to be the hunter that you are now and you were willing to tolerate the withered old man. He had his fun but he couldn’t do the miles he did before and his aim left much to be desired. But he kept you company and gave you maps for all the legendary animals he wanted to see and you, to catch.

That winter while you sought out shelter and a temporary camp while leaving blackwater,he was more prickly than usual.He insisted you stay in and help Pearston skin and cook the animals and man were you a shitty cook.

Pearston decided he would let you sneak out to hunt being the greedy drunk fool that he was so long as you brought something other than vegetables for the crew to eat.

You had barely managed to mount your horse when Arthur came back with Dutch and the rest with a new guest. a woman, frightened like a rabbit, shaking from the cold and the grief judging from her tear stained cheeks

the crowd came in with questions and she shrunk in herself stepping behind Dutch. You hitched your horse back and half ran your way to them

“This is Ms. Adler. Abigail help her out, she's had a rough night” he said and Abigail approached the woman who seemed reluctant to move from her spot as everyone discussed what took place. fed up with the situation you pushed the others away clearing a path for her and stopped beside Abigail

“Christ people give her some air can't you see she’s frightened?” You commanded and they lowered their heads, hats covering their eyes.

The three of you made your way back into the cabin and left it up to Abigail to talk to the woman.

Men widowed her that night and took everything else with them, money,silver, dignity….

the night was grim and you could hear her weep quietly, mourning her lost husband till daylight hit and she passed out from exhaustion. You woke up first and made coffee and left one by her bunk bed with a note

You probably won’t have much appetite but try to consume some liquids at least

Throughout your whole stay there you never conversed any further than a tip of the hat when you entered the cabin at night and a soft sigh when you replaced her untouched plate and cup in the morning.

You felt for her despite not knowing what it meant to lose a husband. You didn’t know what it meant to even have a husband in the first place

But your heart still ached to see such a lovely woman stripped of all joy and light

•••

“a 1000 pound bear and you thought we could take her out with our piss poor rifles?!” You asked bewildered and glanced at Arthur who had much more patience than you that day, which said a lot. Hosea passed him the map with a hand over his heart still scared and in shock how quickly he came face to face with death

“Ill head back…You two gonna chase after that thing are are you coming with?”

“coming with. Arthur its all yours” You said and mounted your house and he did the same

“Had enough entertainment for now. Let’s head back” He agreed and you all three started the two day journey back talking about everything and how everyone was settling in

“By the way, Karen has been asking for you again”

“hm?” you looked up at Arthur. Of course she was. you leave for a few days and she is looking for you again to let out some steam. You stay at camp and she won’t bat an eye your way. You took little offense however simply enjoying that you had someone to have your fun with when no one was looking

“Ill go by her tent later…” you mumbled

“Speaking of can you keep some company to Ms. Adler as well? You two have a spunky spirit and might lift her up a bit”

Sadie Adler had continued her daily routine of wandering off to the far end of the camp sitting on the rocks and crying. You caught her talking to Abigail more than anyone else and despite wanting to get close to the woman you had no idea how to approach her

“Ill…see what I can do”

you agreed and continued silently too tired to indulge in small talk

you arrived at the hideout the next evening. Arthur took off shortly to go back to blackwater for a lead on some members that stayed behind

You bathed in the dreadfully cold river and made it back to your tent combing your hair into two braids, putting on a clean pair of jeans with a shirt to go out and see if there was any coffee or herbs to make tea.

Your caught Sadie with the corner of your eye sitting by the rocks looking off into the distance and decided to give it your best shot. At this point you were the only woman who had not talked to her and it felt rude

you grabbed two chapped mugs and poured whatever hot liquid was available and made your way to her

“Evening Ms. Adler” she looked up at you

“Good evening”

“Mind if I keep you some company?” you said pushing the warm cup in her direction which she took without protest and schooched to the side giving you space. You sat next to her and looked at the dim light from the sparse fire pits enjoying the cracking of wood and soft unison of voices talking in the background

“Listen Im sure everyone had asked how you are doing so I won’t try to remind you of that but, I hope you are finding your stay with us of some comfort”

you said and dared a fearful look at her admiring her untamed blonde hair and freckled nose. A second longer and you may have found yourself in love with a widow so you turned your sights back on the coals and fire in the distance

“As much as I'd rather be left alone, its nice to have some company” she confessed and you nod, waiting to see if she had anything else to say. With a shaky voice she continued

“I just wish my Jacky was here with me. He was a good man you know, better than anyone out there”

your lips thinned almost feeling her anger. Karen passed in front of you in the distance quirking a brow indicating she would be waiting for you tonight

“I just wish it was me in his place. I feel so lost”

you brought your attention back to her and slowly pressed a hand against her back gently moving it in circles. she leaned into your touch and you felt her breath stutter

“I wish I could take my own life…but i’m not brave enough to do even that” you matched your breathing with her own pulling her closer silently trying to calm her down the minute you felt her shoulders shake

“To be brave is to keep on going. To keep on living” you quietly offered your thoughts and she shook her head tears falling again

“I don’t know…”

you kept caressing her back

“Keep on living Adler. Show those fuckers what you’re made of”

You said boldly and she turned to look at you surprised. she seemed to consider your words and then your face. maybe both. You knew you weren’t good at this but you were satisfied to see the tears stop and her features soften

You smiled and hesitantly tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear and then stood up

“We are here for you. Take your time to grieve the man. He is worth it” she nod and took in a deep breath looking into the distance, taking a sip from her tea “Thank you for listening” your shrugged “least I can do for a pretty lady. Should you ever seek company my tent is open” you said and saw a soft smile graced her lips for the first time before she turned away. Remorse hit you quick and hard realizing you accidentally just made a pass at her and felt shame drown you.

with a tip of your hat you excused yourself.

You feared you had messed up, spoke too soon and maybe with too much ignorance. You prayed she’d brush your words off. Its not like anyone even considered that a woman could flirt with a woman.

You sought out Karen and her willing touch that night. You forgot yourself in the pleasure of her spread legs and let her soft gasps fill your mind.

However the next day you were surprised to see Sadie with her hair braided and her shirt tucked in neatly with a lovely brown straw hat shielding her face from the sun. she went to pour coffee and caught you staring and for the first time greeted you first with a smile

•••

Days turned into weeks and Sadies curt greetings turned to small talk that turned into long conversation and eventually she took interest in your role with the gang asking of your trips

“a huntress?”

you felt pride in your chest. sure women weren’t expected to do much but you loved that you challenged that standard from a young age

“I feel I am of more use with a bow in the wild than with pins and needles”

“What's up with you managing to have every woman all over you?” Arthur asked one day and you laughed pushing him away with a soft punch on his arm

“Its my talent”

“and here I thought that laid in hunting animals. ‘s that why we’ve been starving lately?”

he asked meaning no harm and you saw his crooked grin and the softness in his eyes, crinkling with wrinkles

“shut up arthur. Don't you have a train to rob or something?”

“my bad, I won’t take any more of your precious time with Ms. Adler”

You also quickly found out Sadie had a sharp tongue and a short temper. Her strength and quip was overshadowed by her grief before but slowly it raised to the surface and more people took interest in her. She grew more familiar with Arthur and her long skirts were slowly replaced by the occasional tight black jeans that accentuated her assets even better

Some nights she was still haunted by nightmares and you took it upon yourself to invite her to your tent. You talked for a while and when she tried to excuse herself you stopped her and patted the side of your bunk bed

“You can sleep here for tonight”

“and you?” you laughed “Ill also sleep here. Never had a sleepover with a friend before?”

“Not like that you prick” she said and laid next to you. Her eyes widened, noticing she was a little too close than she calculated. you held her by the waist guiding her “turn around for me” you whispered and she obliged. You pressed your chest against her back and held her like that and felt her tense shoulders slowly relax only to stiffen again when you spoke again close to her

“Goodnight Sadie”

“goodnight”

It only happened once but after that night You often caught yourself admiring her, those warm brown eyes, the raspy voice that gave you goosebumps and when no one paid you attention you shamelessly eyed her figure.

“You are no better than a man,huntress” Karen teased and leaned next to you against the tree. You chuckled and glanced at her “jealous?”

“you wish” she said. It didn’t go past you that she wore a dress that exposed her chest nicely yet it did little to arouse you and in horror you realized your mind drifted over to Sadie and how nicely she tucked in her shirt leaving no more than two buttons open barely exposing her collar bones

“The boys are going out for some job” she said leaving the invitation and you smirked looking down at her

“Hm…Maybe Ill join them”

“or..” she said and carefully flattened her palms against your chest pretending to fix your bandana for you “you can join me instead” she looked up at you with doe eyes and your lip twitched in a smile. She left swaying her hips and you let your gaze linger for a second before looking up. Sadie stood there with an unspoken question in her eyes and then cocked a brow in challenge.

you took two cigarettes out of your pocket and she approached you accepting your offer. she placed the stick in her lips and you motioned her to come closer.

her head tilted in confusion and you carefully pulled her in by the back of your head till the ends of your cigarettes touched and lit them both in one go

you tucked the lighter back in your pants and she took in a long puff in thought “You seem closer to Karen than the rest. Does your friendship go back in time?”

you laughed at the innocent and awfully unsuspecting question and decided to test the waters

“Friends ? Hardly, we are close though. In different ways” she seemed even more puzzled “Everytime you answer my questions I end up more lost and confused than I was before”

“Maybe I'm just that bad at conversing with others” she chuckled, a low raspy giggle almost “You give yourself too little credit. Had it not been for those coffees you left and your company Id probably still be on that rock crying” you smiled

“Glad I could help” you continued to smoke in silence and you inspected her clothes your eyes falling on the yellow brooch tied around her neck

“That's a nice brooch” she looked down and smiled “thanks. One of the few good things I own”

“Oh don't say that. You have a lovely sense of fashion darling” you held the ornament in your fingers leaning closer feeling her breath fan your cheeks. Something shifted and it wasn't even anymore. you looked up and saw her completely focused on your every movement catching her eyes that were stuck on your lips. Flattered, a cocky smile escaped you.

There was a tense moment that snapped from Peaston calling out to everyone informing them that dinner and drinks were ready.

You both pulled away from each other abruptly and pushed yourself off the tree patting your pants and dusting them off

“Will you join us?” you asked and she shrugged “Was about time I did”

•••

You were drunk. Way too fucking drunk.

“shit how many…” you tried to look around and count how many glasses of whiskey you had. everything was spinning and buzzing. Karen and Mary-beth were singing and you clumsily joined. Sadie sat next to you cracking a joke here and there but still was mostly quiet listening to all of you and sometimes laughing. Karen laid her head on your shoulder and her hand fell on your thigh beneath the table going upwards and staying there fondling your thigh. Too drunk to care if Sadie was looking, you indulged her sensual move and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

unbeknownst to you Sadie withdrew from you slightly and confused looked at the pair of you her frown growing deeper as Karens hand traveled higher eventually tugging at the metal belt clasp

amidst the chaos- which you were uncertain if there was any due to your drunken state- you remembered getting up and escaping to the quieter place of the camp, then your hands were on Karens hips and her lips on your neck biting and sucking and everything else was a blur

had you been slightly more sober you would have noticed that you weren’t completely hidden. Because Sadie was interested in you in ways she couldn’t explain and she was out looking for you that night. And she unfortunately caught a glimpse of your nasty sexual endeavors with the other woman who you had so willingly pinned against the tree and who elicited the most pornographic sounds

•••

Sadie caught herself interested in you. She liked the fact that you were a huntress and she liked more that you took little pity on her state and gave her solid motivation to get back on track with her life. She realized she chased your polite compliments when she wore a new accessory or when she braided her hair.

but to feel like this towards a woman? how?

she questioned and doubted it immediately believing it was the grief that made her lose her mind. That was until she saw you devouring karen in the deep of the forest. Something woke within her. fiery jealousy and heat bloomed in her chest and her core ached.

She-at first- was convinced she was repulsed by the act, finding it vulgar. than she thought that she was simply taken aback by it but not in an unpleasant way. eventually she decided to sleep frustrated and confused, unable to understand what she felt.

two days later she sought out Karen who seemed very eager to tease and taunt her

“What a voyeuristic eye that you have Adler”

“Are the two of you in a relationship?”

she laughed, loud enough to almost make her feel humiliated and stupid as if the answer was obvious

“Gods no! I mean I know she only likes women but I don’t care for things like that”

“only women?”

“If you ever find yourself with too much frustration pay her a visit. In my opinion every woman should feel her tongue” Sadies eyes widened and then she shook her head in disappointment

“Ill find other ways to keep myself busy” she barked growing angry with Karens games

“Suit yourself. I'm just saying that I trained her well” and with that she left. Sadie was angry. Jealous.She saw Karen marking her territory and she didn’t like that

why does she try to claim something that isnt hers

She avoided you on purpose for the upcoming days and she hated seeing your confusion and visible pain to her dismissive attitude

You once tried to approach her more boldly and in her spitefulness she spat

“what's up with you? Nothing to do?”

You huffed out a frustrated breath and crossed your arms standing in front of her.

“Ive thought about it a lot and it all boils down to you probably finding out I swing the other way”

“I did find out”

you nodded in repeat looking away and she saw your jaw tense and your brows lower “well Fuck me then” you hissed exasperated

“Id like to be alone” she said with a low growl and you scoffed “Really Sadie? Am I that disgusting to you now that you won’t even say goodmorning to me?” you raised your tone and she stood up “Don't you use that tone on me”

“or what?!” she stared at you long and hard. You were the first to break contact and took a step back, arms swinging softly

“You know what Sadie? You wanna be alone ? then be fucking alone” she watched as you turned your back on her and left immediately regretting how sbe handled that conversation.

She didn’t see you for a week after that. That week she herself was busy with her first bounty hunt and she could hardly be happy about it. Her stomach felt like she’d swallowed stones and her throat was dry.

and when you came back it was with Arhur, Hosea and another woman. Someone you rescued on your recent bounty hunt who was as lost as she once was. You attention was on the hurt woman keeping her company making sure she felt secure with your group of people

“Listen we ain’t good but we ain’t them either” you consoled an arm around her shoulders soothing her and Sadie had enough of it. She approached you with heavy steps the heel of her boots digging into the dirt

“I wanna talk to you”

you looked up and the girl in your arms seemed intimidated by her. Sadie disliked that she seemed threatening to an innocent person but her focus was on you and you alone

you silently questioned her, eyes wide, jaw tense as if saying really?! now?!

she stood her ground until you gave in and followed her back to your tent where you could have some privacy

“You wanted to talk? speak”

“Why do you have to be like that?” she asked annoyed and you shook your head defeated “Like what hon? I am around you and you are repulsed, I give you space and you are equally unsatisfied. The hell do you want from me, woman?!”

“I just needed time! Time!” she emphasized the words and you sat down knowing your knees were too weak to handle this unprovoked attitude

“time? for what?” You tried peacefully and truly exhausted knowing someone had to be tame or this conversation wouldn’t go far without resulting in you pulling a gun to each others head

“Christ I- I just was confused. I didn’t know a woman could look at a woman like that”

“And why does it concern you?” you asked and she seemed taken aback. Why indeed

Because I considered you that way too

she came to the conclusion her tongue numb and heavy, unable to speak these words out loud.

She hated how quickly you caught on and in a delightfully predatory way she watched you stand up and approach her, circling her like a vulture

“Sadie did you hate that I look at women like that or did you hate that you weren’t one of those women?”

the hair on the back of her neck rose and heat pooled in her stomach again. A feeling she thought had surely died with her late husband yet here it was.

“I wasn't?” she asked, her confidence faltering. She was sure she caught you staring at her chest, her lips, her hips at first not questioning the wandering gaze until she put the puzzle pieces together to figure out the reason behind it

your hands were on her shoulders running up and down the length of her arms slowly

“Would you like to be?” she turned around and as if in a dance sequence your hands fell on her neck to pull her in for a hungry kiss

She could feel how starved you were in the way your lips pressed against hers tasting her, imprinting the feel of her skin against hers. She returned the notion with equal fervor if not with more and was reluctant to be the one to submit. her hands landed on your hips pulling you in and she was shocked to find how right this position felt. how velvety your tongue felt against her own and how your skin molded into her palms becoming one.

she pulled away to take in a few deep and heavy breaths looking at you and was pleased to find you putty in her arms, to see the mighty huntress small, fragile and ready to do anything she would ask you to

“Do I awaken something in you Sadie?” You asked and held her closer, your arms wrapped around her neck and she responded by kissing you again loving the power and control she had. The passion melted into something more gentle, affectionate and tender and when you pulled away the second time she held your cheek in her hand caressing the flushed skin

“ that answer good enough for you?” she asked with a lazy smirk and you huffed out a laugh still gasping for air “Never thought you packed such heat” you confessed and her ego grew dangerously “You haven’t experienced the half of it”

•••

Unlike you, who was secretive and shameful of your nature the minute Sadie felt sure in herself she didn’t hesitate to greet you with a good morning kiss letting everyone think about what they just witnessed. As outlaws you certainly had bigger problems than two girls deciding to kiss each other and you came to the stupidly obvious realisation. Hosea and Arthur were the first ones to tell you

well we knew men didn’t do it for you, but I didn’t exactly know what did so…I just do now thats all it is

and you felt good about his awkward and reassuring words. Sadie didn’t care on the other hand. if she spent the night in your tent she didn’t hide it and if she felt like making a move on you while at the saloon she would and dealt with the consequences violently and eagerly still needing to vent out her pain and frustrations.

“are you not…scared?” you asked her once at night when you both laid together, naked beneath a thin sheet and she smiled giving you small kisses on your cheeks, jaw, neck

“I am scared of other things darling. Death is one of them. Random drunk men ain’t on the other hand are not”

“You aren’t indestructible Sadie. I worry for you” you confessed and she smiled “Nobody’s taking nothing from me ever again” she said and kissed you “And nobody’s taking me away from you either”

[fromduck]

Mrs. Afton’s Daily Life: THREE

Warnings: Mentions of Child Abuse, William being a bit fucked up ngl, Unedited :')

A/N: Enjoy!

BEEP!! 

HONK!!!

“Watch where you’re going!!” A furious William yells to an elderly driver who almost crashed into him.

The older lady in question only flips him off to which he returns the gesture.

“Crazy old hag, you’re lucky I don’t want to do jail time.” He grumbles to himself, taking out a cigarette to place between his lips. 

It was his lunch break and usually around this time, he would pick up Michael from school. 

But today would be different for he would be picking up both Evan and Michael. 

A smile paints his lips, his baby boy Evan was growing up so fast. It felt like yesterday when he was just barely learning how to walk and now the little boy was going to school. 

He didn’t know whether to feel proud or anxious. Evan was small for his age. Knowing how little brats his age act, they’d probably pick on him. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. 

Unlike Y/N who wouldn’t dare hurt a child no matter how furious she was with the kids who would beat up Michael, William had no issue with harming the nearest brat who threatened his children. 

Sure William had some violent tendencies growing up, but did he grow out of them? Pfft no.

Similar to his son who was starting to get involved in fights, William had been a violent child growing up.

From witnessing both his parents get into violent fights and being on the receptive end of that abuse, William grew up with pent up anger that was quick to flare up. As a small child he would let out that anger onto innocent rodents he would find crawling in his walls at night. His soulless black eyes would observe as his small thin hands strangled the life out of the innocent mice he got his hands on. If his mother caught him again in the act, she would beat him, her own black eyes tearing up.

“Why can’t you be normal?” 

He found that he hated his own eyes when they reminded him of his parents. 

Both held the same blank look that was quick to convert into rage at the drop of a hat. 

His home was a suffocating place that was filled with the threats of violence and anger. His mother was constantly angry with his father for “not providing the lifestyle she deserved.” While his father would argue back that it was her fault for “failing as a woman by being a useless wife.” Then their anger would shift onto him and they’d berate him for ruining their lives. 

Both his parents were high school sweethearts from the countryside of England. 

They’d both come from abusive families that made them both bond over their own personal struggles. 

His mother wanted stability and to be lavished in riches that his father couldn’t provide. 

While his father wanted her love and for her to give him the happy family he’d always wanted. She never wanted children but she’d kept quiet hoping that he’d eventually forget about wanting a child. 

Both teenagers thought that they’d be happy together so they decided to elope to the United States. 

They’d spent all their life savings on the move, their imagination of a perfect life in the States blinding them of the realistic problems. 

Problems quickly arose when they both realized how completely inadequate they were for each other. 

His mother’s resentment to his father grew with each passing day she worked minimum wage jobs, her wish to be taken care of slipping from her fingers.

And her father started to grow irritated with how often she refused to bear him a child. 

There would be times William wished she kept refusing him. For both his parents to be aware of how morally wrong it would be to bring an innocent baby to whatever fucked  arrangement his parents had going on.

But alas, fed up with his persistence for a baby, she caved in begrudgingly. She hoped that if she birthed a child, things would go as they planned. Maybe the baby would look cute?

Something she would remind William constantly that she regretted caving into her father’s wish for a child. 

She hated being pregnant and hated the changes it brought to her body. The birthing process had left her traumatized after many hours of pain and blood loss.

The first time she’d laid eyes on an infant William, she’d only sneered at him.

He wasn’t the blonde baby with the chubby cherub cheeks she wanted. Nine months of torture, sacrificing her body, and hours of agony. 

For this weak looking baby? He was underweight for his age and he remained silent when he took his first breath of air. No piercing wails or exciting emotion evoked from his mother. 

This baby looked dead. She didn’t want such an ugly looking baby.

Poor William had been barely born and his mother had already rejected him. 

His father tried to love him at first. He’d want to have the perfect family all his life. But when his mother was caught in an affair, was when the fights started. 

The earliest memory he recalled was being four years old and watching as his father beat the shit out of his mother. Her screaming cries  

as she begged him to stop were overshadowed by the furious yells of his father. The man had come home from work to see his wife in a lovers embrace with another man. 

William was only watching from the box television when he saw a half naked man run out of the room followed by his father carrying a shotgun. His father had dropped the shotgun in the living room before storming back to his bedroom. There he’d drag his wife by her long black hair as she kicked and screamed. 

When he’d beat her till she was black and blue, he’d gotten up and stood over her body.

He sobbed about why she brought the worst out of him and that she hoped she learned her lesson for being an ungrateful wife.

When he’d turn around to go clean himself of his wife’s blood on his fist, he failed to realize that his shotgun was near his wife’s hands.

Big black eyes that belonged to an innocent William watched as his mother started to shoot at his father. Said man taking cover behind the kitchen counters, screaming about how crazy she was.

The man cried out as he felt a spare bullet nick his leg. Once his mother realized what she did, she started to cry hysterically claiming that she didn’t mean to harm him, only to scare him as a lesson.

They both then screamed at each other until the police had shown up after a neighbor made a complaint. 

His mother plastered on a fake smile and assured them everything was fine. That the bruises on her face were a result of the pet cat playing rowdy again. While she convinced the concerned officers that everything was ok, William’s father cleaned out his wound and any blood that stained the creaky wooden floors.

And William watched it all happen. 

That was his home life. A never ending dance that his parents refused to end no matter how miserable they made each other. 

Not even in school could he be safe because he was bullied for being smaller than the other children. His British accent was also picked on, kids mocking the way he talked because he spoke differently. Everyone and their mothers also knew about his abusive parents, so it was easy to label him as the “weird British kid with issues at home.”

He’d only feel happiness when he’d visit the traveling circus. 

The famous attraction he’d love to see was the dancing bear that was the main attraction. 

There was where his love for entertainment began. He’d remember how the dancing bear would distract him from his miserable home life and he became allured at the idea of bringing that entertainment to those who were like him. Miserable with their day to day lives and in need of a distraction. 

As he grew with those dreams in his head, so did he grow too. The small little boy that he once was grew bigger until he towered over his parents. They’d stopped beating him once they realized he could retaliate against them. 

The bullies at his school that would pick on him cowered at the sight of him. He had cracked the skull of one of them, threatening to go after all of them if they let word get out he did the crime. The kids he grew up with that would bully him now did anything to avoid him. 

If someone said, acted, or even looked at him the wrong way William would beat them mercilessly. Threatening much worse if they were to tell anyone. 

People avoided him at all cost once he revealed his violent tendencies. 

Word got around that the once meek boy became a danger to those who he didn’t like. It was advised for anyone who met him to treat him with caution. 

Something that his parents started to do as they realized how much of a threat he could be to them. 

When he turned eighteen, his parents had kicked him out of the house. Fearing that he would seek revenge against them for abusing him as a child.  

That was when William sought out to build his own replication of the bear he saw many years ago. 

He got into engineering through a mentorship at a car deal. The sleepiness nights learning about mechanics at the school library paid off greatly. 

He absolutely hated working there but knowing it kept him fed and housed in a dingy studio, made him bite his tongue whenever the owner would belittle him. 

Double Majoring in business and engineering, he met his future work partner Henry Emily in a class.

The two were very close at the start of their friendship, they’re work together made them an unstoppable force that would soon create the Freddy Fazbear Franchise. It was a shame they grew apart as the success of Freddy’s skyrocketed. 

While attending college, both young men started to pour all their ideas into making the place of their dreams.

Through gathering enough funds, they were able to create the first two animatronics, Fredbear and Spring Bonnie. FredBear was inspired by the dancing bear at the circus. And Springbonnie was William’s own personal creation. He affectionately dubs Spring Bonnie as his first child much to your annoyance. 

Impressed at the mechanics and advanced technical abilities of the two robots, they were able to convince investors that “FredBear’s Diner” would be a massive hit with all the children of the United States.

And it was.

The first two days, their small diner was filled with many customers. Children crowded around the stage as they watched the two robots sing and interact with the guests. 

Sure the food served wasn’t the best, but he really came for the food anyway? Not when both young men had created something so…revolutionary.

Then the Diner and expanding the Freddy Franchise became a priority in both men’s lives. It was a golden opportunity that they’d be fools to ignore. With that they both dropped out of college and William finally quit his dreadful job at the car dealership. Flipping off his former mentor as he walked out the door. 

There was when both men started to make the Freddy Franchise grow.

Kid restaurants like McDonalds, Burger King, and Chuck E Cheese (he hated all of three of them, especially the last one. Cheap knockoff) were sweating as most of their child customers were swayed by the restaurants made by both William and Henry. Then merchandise and many other products made from them live in the arcades, hell! Freddy’s even had its own cartoon! Money was flowing in and both William and Henry would be recognized as the youngest entrepreneurs to succeed in the country. 

Then William had started his own company, “Afton Robotics.” That quickly became a success as well. 

The life that both his mother and father wanted in America had been achieved by the son they had thought was insignificant. 

He showed them he proved them wrong. 

They both would pester him for money, still in the low economic class. Despite both being divorced, they still were miserable and insufferable people. His mother married the man she cheated with on his father. It wasn’t surprising to learn that she also had issues with him. Like in her previous marriage, she cheated on the poor lad as well. 

His father had turned to drinking to cope with the divorce and spent anything he earned on alcohol. 

Thankfully, none of them had any more children with each other or with other people. 

Thank God.

If they did, William had no qualms of fighting for full custody of any sibling born of those vile people. No little kid deserved to experience what he went through as a child. 

The violence he’d seen growing up 

So when he recalls his family life as a child. 

Never would he lay a hand on any of his precious family, he’d rather die than hurt any of the people he loved most in the world. Even Michael would never experience his violent wrath for he made an oath to himself to never harm his children as his parents did him. 

But anyone besides them? They held no sympathy from the large man.

In his head, everyone and anyone was a threat to his family. 

He’d raised a business from the ground as a college dropout, he’d seen how cruel the world could be.

He’d be damned if anyone hurt them on his watch. 

[bread-and-roses-too]

Demonizing menstruation doesn't help spread information, mysticizing menstruation doesn't help spread information. Going completely neutral is the only way forward.

Periods are an expulsion of waste. They're no more gross than pissing is. The social etiquette of "excuse me I have to go to the bathroom" shouldn't change because someone puts a pad in their pocket before they head off.

Period blood is blood, along with endometrial cells. It isn't more dangerous or gross than the blood that comes out of a wound. It should be treated with the same level of caution because of the potential for disease transmission, but it's not some toxic sludge that you're going to die from looking at wrong. If blood gets on a nonporous surface a simple antibacterial wipe will remove it and prevent the spread of most potential diseases. For a porous surface like fabric soap and water may be enough, or hydrogen peroxide if the stain is stubborn. More careful steps may need to be taken if the blood may or does contain HIV, but it's important to remember that HIV can only be contracted by blood-to-blood contact or sex. Blood from a person with HIV isn't that much more dangerous than regular blood, just try not to touch blood directly in general and wash your hands correctly after handling soiled objects and you'll be fine.

Periods are not your body "punishing you" for not being pregnant. Your body is just a container for you, it doesn't have any feelings that you don't have. If you don't want kids but feel guilty about not having them, it is not your uterus making you feel guilt. That's you being reminded by your period to feel guilt because you were conditioned growing up to view everyone with a uterus as valuable only in terms of their ability and desire to carry children. Anthropomorphizing the function of your reproductive system is the way you deal with the guilt of not living up to your societal "purpose" of bearing children. Everyone who doesn't have kids, has kids late, or has a journey regarding children that's different from the societal norm deals with that to a certain extent, although people who were raised as girls/women tend to deal with it more. It's a line of thinking that you will likely need to work through, either alone or with a sympathetic therapist, in order to be content. Also, if your periods feel like a punishment that could be a sign that something is wrong.

Periods aren't supposed to disable you. Cramping should be at a "oops I ate something that didn't quite settle with me" level not a "cosplaying as a wounded animal" level. You should be able to pop your over-the-counter pain medication of choice and not have to think about the fact that you're on your period aside from the occasional bathroom trip to change your menstrual product. Bleeding through pads or tampons on an hourly basis isn't normal. Fainting from blood loss or pain isn't normal. Being unable to complete daily tasks, or completing them with difficulty, due to pain is not normal. Nausea or vomiting that interferes with your ability to stay fed and hydrated isn't normal.

Irregular periods can be normal, some people just don't get periods on a consistent schedule. Going more than 35 days between can be a sign that something is wrong. Going more than 90 days without a period, sometimes called "losing" your period, can be a sign that something is wrong. If you don't want to have a period, forcing yourself to "lose" it through starvation, overexercise, or stress is not a safe way to do it. These behaviors can have other long-term consequences, including premature death. Hormonal birth control can be taken consistently, skipping periods, with no excess effect on fertility or personal health that we're aware of.

Emotionality is normal before and during your period. Crying at a cat video that you would normally scroll past without thinking is normal. It's ok to be frustrated with emotionality, it can be annoying to feel out of control. It's also ok to withdrawal from others for a short time when you feel unable to socialize. Panic attacks, depression, sleep disturbances, loss of interest, and other major mood disturbances are not normal and can be a sign of premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD). PMDD is as serious as other depressive disorders and can lead to suicide.

Your reproductive system isn't self-contained, it's connected to the rest of your body via blood supply and other mechanisms. Even if you plan to have a hysterectomy or other permanent birth control at some point it's still important to get "period problems" checked out to ensure the rest of your body isn't affected.

People deal with their periods how they deal with them and it's none of anyone's business. Someone isn't lazy for not feeling up to activities during their period. People who eat junk food on their period aren't "making themselves feel worse". Judging someone's choice in menstrual products is so fucking weird and rude, yes I am judging you back. People who skip their periods using birth control (hi!) aren't ruining their bodies with chemicals. People who choose not to use birth control or don't use it for that purpose aren't choosing to suffer for no reason. People are infinitely complex in the ways they choose to deal with inconvenience and challenge and tearing each other down for not being the same is unproductive. Period stigma can only end when we work together, trans and cis, intersex and dyadic, all gender presentations, races, sizes, and abilities, to make it work.

In the theme of the last paragraph, if anything in this post is incorrect or uninclusive, please let me know and I'll fix it asap.

[image ID: a banner that reads "TERFs and SWERFs DNI].

[the-august-one]

Listen, tumblr staying free and running (poorly [affectionate]) depends on several things but one of them is absolutely the tribute of psychic damage that is fed to The Spirit of Tumblr. It must be fed daily the sanity of the user base. Thankfully there are enough of us that it only takes small sips from each and it does just fine. So I think we should all bear the burden of our psychic damage with grace when it occurs, bc look at what we receive in return! A barely functioning website that is still clanging on coming up on two decades now, which houses some of the greatest contributions to internet history!