#but getting into the rhythm of it so maybe the page will pick up a little

[fushiguruuzzzz]

𑁤 Cherry Waves

Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Words — 2.3k

Cw — rockstar au, yes the title is a Deftones reference, mentions of alcohol (no use this time! Yay!), written in one sitting, not proofread, sort of situationship to lovers????? I’m not even entirely sure that’s a secret between them ig, chappel roan reference, lmk if there’s anything I missed !! All you long for is Megumi Fushiguro to love you when he’s sober. All he longs for is to have the courage to show you he does. These two dreams tend to clash when paired with insecurities and desperate secrecy, and the question is: will you be able to work it out?

a/n — this was fun to write tbh, I love rockstar Megumi baddddd and just wanted to get something out for him I fear. This won the poll so Gojo fic out some other time, in the meantime I’ll probably post Kilby girl prologue :3

Being famous had its perks, but with them came many downsides. One that you would consider the most pesky was the lack of privacy. Every secret you kept so precisely hidden was uncovered somehow, sometimes ones you weren’t even aware of yourself. Sometimes it was an old video of you found in the darkest depths of the internet, sometimes it was a song you hadn’t released yet. In your case, it was… whatever you had going on with your bandmate. Honestly you weren’t sure what exactly it was, neither was Megumi. But there was something, far too many glances that lasted just a beat too long, the graze of your fingers as you passed him his guitar that seemed to set you alight. The drunken kisses you’d share in the back of a crowded club that you were both eager to leave, the ones you wouldn’t talk about when the morning came. You’d share glances over the breakfast table that grew less awkward and more knowing as your rituals continued, the weeks going by and your dynamic never changing.

Sometimes months would go by without those moments of solidarity when your desperation bubbled over and came out in bursts. He never dared to voice it, but it killed Megumi. He loathed the way your touch would be all consuming, and then just a few hours later he’d been imprisoned by the lack of label between you, your distance heart wrenching. You were everything, and then nothing. You came in waves, not steady like the rise and set of the sun, but like the tide, unpredictable and heavy and undeniably passionate. You despised it equally as much, but you had the self control to contain it. Until you were on stage and consumed by nothing but the music, the songs you wrote about him, that is.

Your fingers were nimble and quick as they strummed the guitar, your lips ghosting over the rough wire of the microphone with every lyric. The rhythm reverberated through you, your heart beating in sync with the unsteady beat of the drums. This was it. This was life. Life was impending hearing loss and callouses on your fingers, it was red lights and the screaming of a crowd and the lingering knowledge that who might be the love (or loss) of your life is just a few pages behind you. The energy emitting from your body picked up his own every instance without fail, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as soon as he walked into the room. Paranoia? Maybe. Soul ties? Also maybe. That secret wasn’t yours to know, as it seemed.

Everything felt blurry, your consciousness only ever going up to half capacity on nights like this. You figured that if you were fully present, you couldn’t handle it all. It was a defence mechanism you’d made for yourself to handle the constant attention, the haunting awareness that you were being constantly perceived. Every shift of your eyes as they wandered to your black haired bass player was recorded, forever on the wide world of the internet. So you had to be careful, tread lightly at all times. They were everywhere, it seemed. You never really got used to it. This was your job, though, you signed up for this. You knew that, so you put up with it. You just wished you could love in peace.

You panted, chest heaving as you took in gasps of warm air. Not all that refreshing, but oxygen nonetheless. The last instrumentals of the final song faded out, the only noise being the dull chattering of the crowd. You felt their eyes on you, but one stuck out far more than any others. Him. His emerald eyes in the dim light were piercing, having such a deep effect over you even when they were out of sight. You were suddenly all too aware of the sweat sticking to your forehead, and the faint aftertaste of coffee on your tongue. You’d chugged three cups beforehand, figuring you’d need it to get through the night. Maybe it should’ve been four.

“Thank you so much for coming out, folks! That’s all for tonight!” you said, putting on an overly cheery tone that you were sure reeked of bullshit. With that the crowd began filtering out, the rows becoming gradually more empty with every passing minute. You, Megumi, and the others fell into the same old routine of packing up your instruments and getting ready to head out.

When the equipment was away and you were officially free to go for the night, Nobara spoke up. “Anyone in the mood to get drunk off of shitty overpriced vodka and hope we don’t get cancelled?”

As you walked to your respective vehicle, you couldn’t help but laugh. Your eyes flickered to Megumi for but a brief moment, but long enough for him to catch it. Something lied in the air between you then, the acceptance of what would happen the moment the alcohol took its toll and you were left alone. But as you met the sight of his raw eyes shining with what almost looked like expectation, something shifted. You didn’t want to be something that he only loved when he was drunk, you didn’t want to be the girl that was always just there when he needed you. The smile slowly faded from your face, being replaced by something softer; something more fake.

“I’m spent, I’m not gonna join tonight. Call me, yeah?” you asked, giving a small nod to the group as you lowered yourself into your drivers seat. Megumi’s eyes followed you inch by inch, taking in every subtle shift of your face, the soft crease between your brows as you put the keys into the ignition and made an eager escape. You were doing this on purpose, you were avoiding him. Why? Was he not enough, was he too much? Was this the end of whatever sick dance of passion and indifference that you were playing? But Megumi wasn’t stupid, in fact, he was an academically gifted boy. He knew that if he loved you when he was sober, you’d be willing to get drunk. It made something in his chest clench unfamiliarly, and he hated it. Hated the way you made him feel, hated the way he made you feel. He just… hated.

He hated the way the sound of your engine faded as you drive further and further from him, because it felt like you were leaving him in more ways than one.

Your fingers strummed impatiently against the steering wheel, though you weren’t sure what you were waiting for. You had nothing to wait for, no one. Maybe you were waiting for the moment your screen would light up with Megumi’s name, that he’d magically overcome whatever emotional blockage that was keeping him from you and learn to love you properly. You shook your head. Be realistic, now. It’s Megumi.

Pulling into the darkened parking lot of your apartment building felt like the nail in the coffin, the break in the inconsistent pattern you’d been following for so long. And as you stepped into your apartment, the falls felt oddly empty. It was missing something that had never been there in the first place, something that seemed to fit so perfectly, yet you didn’t. Maybe that was the case. Megumi fit into your life, he fit whatever love you held for him, but did you fit him? Maybe not.

You felt exhausted, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. You tossed and turned uncomfortably in your sheets for what felt like hours before sighing in defeat and trotting out to your kitchen.

As you sat on your counter, tentatively sipping an icy cup of water, your mind wandered. You wondered what type of lover Megumi was. When the lights were soft, would his touch be, too? Would the scrambled urgency of his lips against yours turn into something calmer when he knew you had the time? His rough hands calloused by his passion, would they hold you as delicately as they cupped your face in his moments of weakness, as you escaped from the crushing reality of your status? Your heart ached at the realization that you didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance to. Maybe someone else would, someone that fit.

A firm knock on your door pierced through the walls more than it should have. There was an empty sort of quiet that followed, as if the person waiting to enter didn’t have the courage to fill it. You slid from the cold marble, socked feet hitting the ground as you placed your glass next to you. There was barely the sound of shuffling as you padded to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole in your sleepy haze.

When you swung the door open, he looked nearly as shocked as you did. Of course Megumi had been the one to come here in the first place, but he half expected you to be asleep or just ignore him entirely.

“Megumi?”

He blinked at you for a moment, eyes unfocused. “…hey,” he said, voice hoarse as if he was the one who’d spent the night singing.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out?” you asked, standing dumbfounded in the doorway.

He paused. “You didn’t go.”

That statement meant a lot more than its words. You didn’t go, so he didn’t. He wanted to see you, to be with you.

“Can I come in?”

You looked between you, suddenly remembering that he was standing outside in the hallway whilst you were keeping him there. You shuffled to the side, motioning for him to enter. He did, no words shared in the silent moment. You fell into step, taking the few strides across the apartment and plopping down on the plush cushions of your couch.

You stared down at your fidgeting hands, debating whether you’d break the silence or not. He was the one who showed up here, so shouldn’t it have been him? But deep down you knew Megumi, he wasn’t one to speak unless spoken to. Not usually.

“What are you doing here?” you asked again, voice softer. He lifted his head, the black spikes of hair shifting with every movement. He looked particularly disheveled, like he’d spent his night tossing and turning as you had. “You and I both know why I’m here.”

With a soft exhale through your nose, you nodded. The thing was, you didn’t know the exact reason for his appearance. Was it to put an end to whatever you had, or the opposite? Because whether you liked it or not, it wasn’t casual. You didn’t know if they ever had been.

“What am I doing wrong?” you blurted. Your eyes widened, surprised by your own words. Damn your mouth and its tendency to act before your brain could, because it put you in situations like this.

His expression mirrored yours, confusion and something else, something more unrecognizable. “What?” he said, throat suddenly dry. “I never said you did anything wrong. You… you didn’t.”

That only puzzled you further. If you’d done nothing wrong, what was it that kept him from you? Perhaps your actions weren’t wrong, just you were. “I don’t understand,” you whispered, unable to find the correct words.

“Why would you think you’re doing something wrong?” he pushed.

“Because you don’t like me.”

A silence fell over you, and Megumi felt more flustered than he had in his life. “I’ve given you some pretty clear implications denying that,” he murmured.

“But you don’t like me when you’re sober, Megumi.”

A heavy silence fell over you, swirling with unspoken words and the quiet desperation for closure. You just needed him to confirm it, you couldn’t spend any longer clinging to the last bits of drunken hope residing in you.

“I’m sober now.”

“Yeah, well-“ you were about to shoot back, but then he was tilting your chin up and pressing his lips to yours. Your lips were captured in his as he inhaled every bit of you, the taste of your lips overtaking his senses. Cherry. He swallowed every claim and rebuttal rolling off of your tongue, rough hands cupping your face as he kissed you with a mission to prove himself. Megumi had never been one for words, opting to show his intentions through action. He sure got his point across.

He panted into your mouth, brow bone ghosting over yours as his eyes drank you in, deep and curious. Not an ounce of alcohol swirled in his bloodstream, but he felt completely drunk off of you. Maybe he couldn’t ever love you when he was sober, for your every breath intoxicated him, drew him in.

Your mind was spinning, wondering if you were in the midst of a fever dream. Megumi tasted of nothing but espresso and mint, no traces of vodka bleeding into your mouth as it interlocked his. He was completely present, and he was kissing you. He held you with a delicacy you weren’t aware he was capable of, hands that were once in tense fists now cradling you like fine china.

“Are you saying…” you breathed.

“Yeah. Now shut up, will you?”

You huffed, but it did little to hide the eagerness in your actions as you took him by the collar and pulled him in once again.

As you felt his lips on yours, you realized that they were perfect; like puzzle pieces reunited. The thing about puzzle pieces is that it was never one fitting in the other, it was that they fit together, reciprocated. They were two parts of a whole, equal, mutually connected. Megumi filled the empty walls of your home, and you filled his heart, and that felt pretty damn equal to you.

Tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniya @anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @lizbix

[unabashegirl]

my best friend's dad | part 2

/N and Scarlett Styles are best friends in college. They share everything even their plans for Spring Break. They have a trip to Bahamas planned. Everything takes a turn when Scarlett is unable to fly, and Y/N is forced to coexist and interact with Scarlett's dad.

Author's note: I initially decided not to post this part on Tumblr, but people began having issues with me because of that decision. I received rude messages in my inbox, but I'm going to posting it—not because of the rude messages, but because my Patreon subscribers asked nicely for another part. I want to be very clear: I WILL NOT BE POSTING THAT PART ON TUMBLR. No matter how many insults I receive in my inbox, this will not change. i hope you enjoy.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all the one shots and much more :) thank you beforehand!

word count: 2.4K

warnings: smut

part 1

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Harry, determined to keep a respectful distance from Y/N after that morning’s perverted thoughts. He dressed in a freshly washed swimsuit and headed straight for his studio, a serene space filled with natural light and a calming view of the beach and pool below. The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing background as he settled in at his drawing table.

He immersed himself in his work, focusing intently on finalizing the layouts for the new building project. The creative process helped clear his mind, and he found solace in the familiar rhythm of sketching and planning. Occasionally, he glanced out onto the balcony, where he could see Y/N below, absorbed in her book.

She looked peaceful, the morning sun casting a soft glow around her. He noticed her occasionally reaching for a piece of fruit from a bowl beside her, her expression content as she turned the pages. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight.

By midday, Harry had completed the layouts he set out to finish. He stretched his arms and stood up, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Glancing out at the balcony once more, he caught Y/N turning herself onto her chest and untying the top of her blue bikini. She slipped on the top and threw it beside the sunbed. She was topless and Harry tried to hold his composure.

“How is Bahamas?” Jeff, Harry closest friend asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

“It’s fine” Harry responded as he sat down and took off his reading glasses.

“It doesn’t sound like it. How is Scar?”

Harry sighed, knowing Jeff could read him like a book. "Scar's doing well," he admitted, leaning back in his chair and glancing out at the tranquil ocean view from his study. "But... there's something else."

"What's going on, mate?" Jeff's voice held concern.

Harry hesitated, unsure how to articulate the conflicting emotions he'd been grappling with since Y/N arrived. "It's Y/N," he finally confessed. "She's Scarlett's friend, and she's... she's a guest here."

Jeff remained silent, sensing there was more to Harry's unease.

"I find myself thinking about her more than I should," Harry admitted quietly. "She's smart , funny, and..." he trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the attraction he felt.

"You've got it bad, haven't you?" Jeff said knowingly.

Harry chuckled ruefully. "It's complicated. She's much younger, and I shouldn't be thinking about her like this."

"Maybe it's just a crush," Jeff suggested gently. "It'll pass."

"I hope so," Harry murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I just need to focus on work and keep my distance."

"Or you could test the waters. What if she's also interested?" Jeff suggested, knowing that his friend always played it safe and never ventured into morally gray areas. He believed Harry needed to embrace life more, and perhaps Y/N was the catalyst he needed.

Harry sighed again, torn between Jeff's suggestion and his own reservations. The idea of pursuing something with Y/N was both exhilarating and unsettling. He valued Scarlett’s feelings and didn't want to jeopardize them or make things awkward between them.

"I don't know, Jeff," Harry finally replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "She's Scarlett's best friend, and there's an age difference..."

Jeff interrupted gently, "You can't control who you're attracted to."

Harry nodded slowly, considering Jeff's words. He knew his friend meant well and understood his perspective, but the thought of complicating things weighed heavily on his mind. He had always been cautious, preferring to maintain boundaries and avoid unnecessary risks.

"I just don't want to mess things up," Harry admitted quietly, his gaze drifting back to the view outside. The ocean shimmered under the afternoon sun, a peaceful contrast to the turmoil in his thoughts.

Jeff nodded understandingly. "I get it. Just see how things unfold. You'll figure it out."

As they ended the call, Harry leaned back in his chair once more, reflecting on their conversation. He knew he needed to tread carefully, balancing his growing feelings with his respect for Scarlett and Y/N’s feelings too. He just wasn’t sure if he just wanted to sleep with her or something else.

Harry hadn't been in a relationship for years. He had devoted his time to work, ensuring his daughter had a comfortable life. If he thought about it that way, he felt he deserved to have some fun. However, he still didn't know if Y/N felt the same way toward him.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Harry?" It was Y/N, holding a bowl of fruit. Her hair was wet but pulled back by her sunglasses. Harry noticed she was already getting a bit sunburned and looked tanner than she had just three days ago. "I just thought you might like a snack," she said sheepishly.

Harry smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Y/N. That's very kind of you," he said, standing up and walking over to her. He took the bowl of fruit from her and placed it on his desk.

"So, this is where the magic happens," she said with a grin, walking over to the drawing table.

"Yep, this is it," Harry replied, his heart racing slightly at her presence. "Come, take a look.”

He led her to the table, where his latest project was spread out. Y/N leaned in, her shoulder brushing against his as she examined the intricate designs. Harry could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and he fought to keep his focus on the work in front of them.

“Oh! Look at that” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. “The detail is breathtaking”.

"Thanks," Harry said, his eyes flicking to her face.

As Harry explained his vision for the project, he couldn't help but notice how close they were standing. The small studio felt even smaller with her beside him, and the tension between them was palpable. He tried to keep his voice steady, but the proximity was making it difficult.

At one point, Y/N reached out to touch a section of the blueprint, her fingers lightly grazing his hand. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he glanced up to find her watching him intently. The air seemed to thicken around them, and for a moment, the world outside the studio ceased to exist.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to dispel the growing tension. "So, um, that's the main living area," he said, pointing to the layout on the paper.

They stood there, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. Harry's mind raced, torn between the desire to close the gap between them and the need to maintain the boundaries he'd set for himself. He could see the same conflict in Y/N's eyes, and it only intensified the pull he felt toward her.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence. "I should let you get back to work," she said, stepping back slightly, though her eyes lingered on his.

Harry nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. “I was thinking of taking a break and going for a swim. Do you want to come?”

She gave him a small, smile. “Yeah”.

They both made their way out of the studio and down the path towards the private beach. The sun was burning hot as it neared lunch hours, and the air was filled with the sounds of seagulls and the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. The crew was starting to prepare the table for lunch, setting out plates and utensils under the shade of a large umbrella.

As they walked, the soft sand crunching beneath their feet, Harry stole glances at Y/N. She looked radiant in her bikini, her skin glowing under the sunlight. He felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

They waded into the water together, the cool waves lapping at their legs. Harry couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration as they moved deeper into the ocean, the water enveloping them in its refreshing embrace. The sun glinted off the surface, creating a dazzling display of light and color.

As they swam, Harry found himself drawn to Y/N, their laughter and playful splashes creating a sense of intimacy and connection. They floated on their backs, gazing up at the clear blue sky, the worries and tensions of the world seeming to melt away.

"I think my face is getting burned," Y/N said as she stood up near the shore, the water lapping at her waist. Harry swam over to her, concern in his eyes. He stood up beside her, leaning in to check on her more closely.

"Let me see," he said softly, his voice full of genuine concern. As he leaned closer, his eyes scanned her face and cheeks, which were definitely flushed from the sun. The close proximity made Y/N's heart race, but she couldn't help staring at his lips, her breath hitching slightly.

Harry noticed her gaze, and his heart pounded in response. He could see the nervous anticipation in her eyes, and it was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly, deliberately, he closed the gap between them, his eyes locking onto hers.

She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "Harry," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gently cupped her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing lightly against her sun-kissed skin. The world seemed to stand still as he leaned in, his lips finally meeting hers in a tender, lingering kiss.

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she responded, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but quickly grew more passionate as they both gave in to the emotions they'd been holding back. The warm ocean water swirled around them, adding to the sense of intimacy and connection.

Harry's hands wrapped around her waist as the waves nudged them deeper into the water. With the sea current interrupting their kiss, Harry lifted her off the ground. Y/N instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on tightly.

Their lips met again with renewed passion, the sensation heightened by the cool water surrounding them. Harry's grip on her tightened, anchoring her against him as the waves swayed them gently. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

Harry kisses her again but the softness if gone and now there is a sense of urgency. Y/N lips moved to his jaw and then to the side of his neck. Harry hand coming to grip her jaw to stop her.

“Are you sure?” He asked, not wanting to take advantage of her. She was younger and with less experience than him. The last thing he wanted to do was to pressure her into having sex. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t want”

“I want to” Harry didn’t question her any further. Perhaps because of his own selfish reasons. He untied her top and released her breasts, he tend to them, putting one of them in his mouth as his other hand massaged the other. He bit her softly, earning a whine from her.

“Harry” she moaned as she watched him devour her breasts. His hot mouth against her cold skin was a different sensation. Y/N was surprised that she had deliberately agreed to have sex at the beach, in the ocean. However, the desire was too intense to make it back to the house.

Y/N’s feet started pushing his swimming trunks off his body wanting to feel and see him.

“This is wrong” Harry said as he started to make his way out of the water and towards the shore with her still wrapped around him.

“So wrong” Y/N said as he laid her down on damp sand. Harry’s hand went to her sides and untied the sides of her bikini. Something had taken over him. He was ravenous for her.

“Spread your legs baby. Wider” His face was quickly buried between her legs.

“What if someone see us?” She asked though it quickly converted into a moan as Harry pressed his tongue on her, his nose brushing her clit. Harry hummed at the taste of her, she still tasted salty from the ocean water.

“Just like I imagined it” His finger drawing circles over her clit as he continued licking her and sucking her sensitive folds. “Don’t cum yet. I want to be in you when you do” he warned, his English accent raspier that usual.

“Then fuck me” Y/N begged, to which almost made Harry cum in his swimming trunks. It was such a stark contrast from who had arrived a few days ago. His hands frantically pulled down his swimming trunks. Harry’s head teased her entrance for a second before he sunk into her. He filled her up completely and for a second Y/N was worried that she wouldn’t be able to take it.

“God” She whined, throwing her head back, her hair getting covered with sand. Harry stayed still as he allowed her to adjust. He also needed a second at the newfound sensation.

“Fuck” he groaned as he pulled out of her and back into her. Her wet walls around him clenched up, as she looked at him drunken eyes. “You are so tight”.

She was overheated. The sun, the hot sand, and the way he looked at her as he pounded into her was too much. They were starting to get sticky. Harry hands gripped her hips, helping him to keep the constant pace.

“Cum f’me” he exhaled between thrusts as he felt her clench around him. Harry watched her come undone as she whimpered his name over and over again. Harry followed right after her before dropping right beside her.

Y/N looked over at him as they both tried to recuperate after their orgasms. She could see his skin covered with sweat and salt from the ocean and he still managed to look incredibly attractive.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy” He said with a smirk with his eyes still closed.

She didn't feel an ounce of regret...yet.

part 3 | sneak peek

[iridescentparkers]

tease ˚ ༘ ౨ৎ⋆｡˚ a small pre-500 gift. enjoy ;) (18+)

warnings - swearing, smut. a little sub!peter!

HE SLUMPED his long, lanky body against his bedroom floor, pressing his back against his bookshelf. Peter's glasses slid down the bump on his nose, his mouth gaping slightly open as he stared at his textbook. You sat against his headboard, watching the rhythm of his chest move as he studied what was in front of him.

His tongue touched the roof of his mouth as he turned the page, the little movements sending warmth to your body. 

Weren't you supposed to be studying? Fuck. He’s not trying to tease you. That’s what made it so much hotter. Just his steady breaths alone turned you on.

As he adjusted in his seated position, leaving his eyes on the page, you felt sweat drip down your side. 

You huffed, beginning to fan yourself with the book, “It’s really hot in here.” 

Peter looked up to you from his book. 

“Extremely,” he said, looking around, before meeting your eyes. “Once I finish this chapter, I’ll go downstairs and try to fix the A/C.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled. 

“Anything for you,” he cheesed, glancing up at you before moving his eyes back to his book. 

You quickly moved your eyes between him and your material. As some minutes passed, you sat bored, aimlessly moving your fingers around the page as your brain thought about watching him come undone on his bedroom floor. 

“God, it is warm here,” he stated. “Maybe this will make it less stuffy.” 

With the window open, he removed his shirt, putting both his arms on the windowpane. As he looked down at the cars and streets beneath him, he gripped the wood, his veins growing prominent on his skin.

“Wonder if anyone else has a broken A/C too?” He asked. He moved back to his previous position, grabbing the book next to him to continue studying.

Was he doing it on purpose? You watched him take a breath as he continued studying to then looking at the band of his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. They were loose around his body. His hand that was not holding the book sat on the upper part of his thigh. 

Peter put his head back as he huffed, closing his eyes and peering them back open before looking back to you, “Something wrong?”

Your expression is neutral, hiding how gobsmacked you are by him right now. “No.”

“Really? You keep looking at me. You sure?”

You paused right before moving to the floor and sitting against his bed. “It’s just- Peter you look really…good, right now.”

“Now? I’m a sweaty mess.”

“A hot, sweaty mess.”

He smiled, leaning over to place a peck on your lips before going back to his position, “What do you need from me right now?”

“Whatever you want,” you smiled, crawling over between his legs before walking your fingertips to the head of his cock. “Let me make you feel good.”

He nodded, letting you guide his hand to the inside of his pants, you both feeling him inside of his sweatpants. You both glide his hand up and down, feeling his hips twitch beneath him. You both continue the motion, Peter biting down on his lip as he hunches forward, moaning into your ear. 

You felt him get hard beneath you, Peter moaning louder as you ran your thumb briefly along his tip.

"You're so hard already, and just for me baby?" You teased, rubbing a gentle hand along his chest as your foreheads touch, his breathing picking up more speed. "You're doing so good."

You moved his hand away as you slid down his pants from his hips and slowed the gentle strokes on his dick. “Can I tell you something?”

He whimpered his sentence, dropping his jaw as he moved closer to your ear as you nodded, “I saw you watching, and I took off my shirt to make you flustered.”

“Really?" You asked, slowly moving your hands from him. "Since you didn’t want to behave, should I stop?”

“No,” he shuddered. “Please, you’re just so cute when you get like that!"

You cut your lids, placing a hand on his cheek, cupping his chin as you pull his ear closer to your lips.  “Don’t let it happen again.” 

You whisper in his ear, gritting as you look down at him before placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Yes- Yes, ma’am.”

[vomitspit2]

the doctor is giving me all these medicinal notes about floyd, can u guys take them off my hands [headcanon/exploration from canon]

1. his pain threshold is high high. out of everyone in the leech family, he has gotten into the most accidents — perhaps not the worse accidents! but definitely the most! — and developed a pain tolerance that is off the charts. he won’t even really wince at a broken nose. he knows it’s there and is happening, but he has gotten a broken nose so much that it is the equivalent to getting a really bad stubbed toe.

1.2 really enjoys hand squeezes with azul. an octopus’s grip is tighter than an eel’s. floyd can dig his fingers and nails into all the pressure points on azul’s but he is always the one letting go first. however, it’s very rare that azul every entertains this hand-squeezing competition.

2. fickle sleeper. needs something to tire himself out like a dog with zoomies, so on RARE occasions, floyd will join jade in his night walks. he does parkour around the courtyard — his best moves are underbar, gate vault, & 180s down — until he’s exhausted. his sleepwear is very movable, a wife-beater and pair of baggy pants is optimal when moving and jumping around a lot.

2.2 do not put this man on a trampoline unless you are fine with endangering everyone in the vicinity!!! — which translates too, jade would probably ‘find a way’ to get vargas to consent to a trampoline in the gymnasium for a day. floyd learned out to do one (1) front-flip with his legs and it has spiraled since then.

3. hates getting mild runny nose. he never got one in the coral sea and now suddenly his nose starts dripping!!! ⋋_⋌!!! what’s up with that!!! he doesn’t really do well with colds in general but a runny nose is his nemesis and will complain loudly about it.

4. he eats what he wants when he wants!! but i think he’s a real enthusiast for food challenges, especially warheads and anything really sour. candy is rare undersea; he wants to test out his limits and this little 3-day-long fascination led to him discovering he really likes peppermints.

5. has a comic series he is working on about a samurai merman who kills and cooks his enemies. into various plates of seafood. jokes it’s about teaching children how to make healthy meals in the coral sea. the art style is on level with takehiko inoue but maybe like ten pages are actually finished? Samurai Swordfish is very important to him though, even unfinished, and he will not tolerate slander.

6. it’s something that people without siblings wouldn’t really get but floyd and jade are incredibly close and also very independent. despite this juxtaposition, it became clear the relationship they would have in NRC when floyd, in the first month of his first year, was sitting in class, thinking ‘i want to see jade right now’ which evolved fast into ‘i’m going to see jade’. since that little epiphany, floyd has had no issue with simply abandoning class to walk into whatever class his twin is in.

7. picks up instruments easily and almost always finds a way to master it. from this, it is evident he has perfect/absolute pitch. sound is especially important to him — not just from tapping a rhythm with his fingers or whistling a tune, the voice of his loved ones is very important to him. with such a unique sensitivity to sound, he really thrives off calls and voicemails. he is not a texter, he is a caller 100%.

8. brain tank empty …. goodbye …. 💔

[novlr]

I want to write poetry but I have no idea where to start. Any tips?

Poetry is experiencing a massive resurgence. With the rise of social media, poets are becoming the literary heroes of the Instagram feed as more and more people recognise the therapeutic value of poetry and turning their own thoughts to the page.

Maybe you’ve thought about writing poetry but haven’t been sure where to begin. Not to worry —  we’ll guide you through everything you need to know, so that you’ll be writing great poetry in no time. 

Before writing

Learning the art of writing poetry starts before you even pick up the pen. Here are some preliminary steps to take before you write a great poem. 

Read widely

The best thing you can do as a new poet is read the kind of poetry you want to write. Not only will this give you a sense of what other poets are doing well, but it will also help train your inner ear for the sounds and cadences of poetry. It’s a bit like learning a new language; you’ll absorb it best by immersion. 

Learn the basic poetic terms

You don’t need an MFA to write poetry, but it will help if you learn some basic terminology like stanza, line break, enjambment, caesura, metre, and so forth. Being able to put a name to these moving parts will help you make more conscious decisions as you write and heighten your awareness of these choices.  

Study rhyme, rhythm, and metre

Likewise, it will help if you develop an awareness of the way a line of poetry is put together. You don’t necessarily need to worry about technical terms like trimeter and trochee just yet, but try to focus on where the voice rises and falls throughout a poem. 

One of the most popular metres of poetry is called iambic, which is a pattern of unstressed syllables and stressed syllables: “’Tis now the very witching time of night”. This undulation makes the poem soothing to the ear. 

Once you see patterns in the way writers structure their poems, you can choose how to bring these patterns into the way you structure your own poetry. 

During writing

Ready to start writing? Let’s dive in.

Choose a subject to write about

Now it’s time to choose what you want your poem to explore. It can be something minuscule — a drop of dew on a blade of grass that looks a bit like a tiny globe — or something grand, like the corrosion of free education, for example. You might find it helpful to do some journaling on the topic first to explore how you feel about it and get your creative wheels turning. 

Find a format that works for you

Because poetry is so intimate and emotionally driven, it can be beneficial to give it a tactile element by writing with a pen or pencil and paper as well as drafting on a digital platform. Different forms look and feel different depending on where and how they’re composed, so explore what works best for you.

Don’t worry too much about getting it “right” — that’s what revision is for! Just begin structuring your thoughts into some kind of order and practice, practice, practice. 

Overwrite first, trim later

When you’re writing a rough draft, put down lots of material that you can shape into a polished poem later. Many poets find that their poems become a lot shorter as they revise. That’s because they write out a lot of lines and phrases that help them uncover what the heart of the poem is and then cut away the parts they don’t need.

Find your poem’s turning point

Great poems are characterised by what’s called “the turn”, or a shift in the poem’s tone or focus. Often these poems begin by talking about something small and innocent, and then shift into something more emphatic part way through.

For example, maybe a poem starts by talking about a drop of dew on a blade of grass that looks a bit like a tiny globe, but soon the reader realises that what the poet’s really talking about is climate change. Or you could start by writing about a dress you haven’t worn in years, then shift to talking about the person you last saw the night you were wearing that dress. This “turn” gives your poem emotional layers. 

After writing

You wrote a poem! Congratulations!! Now it’s time to make it the very best it can be. 

Read your work out loud 

Great poetry is all about rhythm. The best poets know that reading a finished poem aloud is the key to picking out any snags in the musicality of the piece. Pay attention to any moments in which you get stuck on a hard consonant or trip over any hidden tongue twisters. 

Hearing the way it sounds out loud can help you catch issues that you wouldn’t have noticed on the page and make the language as smooth as it can be. 

Revise, revise, revise

Poets (in fact, any writers) rarely get it just right on the first draft. Once you’ve completed a poem, set it aside for a little while and come back to it with fresh eyes. Then, you can examine how to give each line the maximum impact and how the overall narrative comes together. 

Also, look at the way you’ve shaped your poem and if the line breaks and stanza breaks are pulling their weight. Cut out any material that isn’t necessary — it’s not uncommon for poets to delete the first few lines of a poem because they were just their way of warming up their voice. These superfluous lines are sometimes called “throat clearing” lines. 

Get your poems out into the world

Once your poem is as perfect as you can make it, and you’ve revised each punctuation mark and line break until you’ve gone cross-eyed, you’re ready to send it out. There are thousands (thousands!) of literary journals in the big, wide world that welcome submissions of poems from new writers. Somewhere out there is an editor who is going to love your poem and want to share it with their audience. 

Next stop: worldwide acclaim. Good luck!

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 6

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.

I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.2k+

You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.

Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise

You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises

“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”

“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”

You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.

You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”

“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”

You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”

It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.

Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”

She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”

“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.

“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.

“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.

“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.

You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”

“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away. 

Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.

You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.

When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.

“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”

This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant Y/N was most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for her to wake up to.

Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)

“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.

Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name��� and that’s none of your business.”

“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”

“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”

She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”

Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”

“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.

“Am not.” He quipped back.

“ Are too!” She shoved him.

“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.

She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”

Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”

She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”

Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.

“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”

Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”

Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.

Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”

2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.

Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?

Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?

Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.

Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?

This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place. 

Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?

Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)

Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual. 

When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.

“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”

“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”

He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”

“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.

He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”  

He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”

She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”

“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.

“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”

You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”

“You’re not a runner?” He asked.

“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.

A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.

“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.

His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”

You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.

It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”

He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”

Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.

You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.

Tag list:

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@that-gay-person-27

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Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[madeholyy]

you & i ; leon kennedy / reader

and i'm not normally the jealous, jealous type. but if we're picking favorites than i am yours. [jealousy, requited unrequited love]

He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see it clear as day in his eyes. Or at least you think you could. Leon was quiet and focused, repeatedly checking on his hand gun like he didn’t believe it was perfectly fine. You fiddle with your combat knife between your fingers while stealing glances at him. No matter how many times you asked if he was alright he always gave the same excuse: It’s just Ashley. But it wasn’t. He was worried, but his mind was occupied with something else— someone else. It wasn’t any of your business, but the haunted look swirling about the solid blue in his eyes was your ghost as well. She might as well wrap her gloved hands around the column of your neck and squeeze the air from your lungs with the aftershocks she sent through you both. An appearance from an echo of another time, another place.

And the silence was the worst part of all.

It gnawed on the marrow of your bones and made a home in your chest. He barely acknowledged any attempt you made at a conversation. You wanted the sky to open up and swallow you whole; break every bone in your body and tear you so finely apart you were nothing more than stardust. Maybe you’d come back as a hurricane or an earthquake. Maybe you’d unleash your anguish and heartbreak in a fury of raging winds and seismic waves. You didn’t care what you’d leave behind in the wake of your destruction, everyone else be damned. What mattered was the aftermath. The peace beyond satisfaction as you wither into nothingness. But you weren’t a devastating storm, you were just devastating. And it hurt to feel so small with someone who made you feel so warm. Leon never talked about her much, but he confided in you enough for you to know whatever you guys were was in jeopardy if not already damaged beyond repair. His demeanor only solidified the fear.

Then he stood up and you watched his every movement right down to the way his shoulders rose and fell in rhythm with his breathing. He holstered his gun. You faced the knife blade down between your thighs and dug it into the wooden chair beneath you. He avoided eye contact. Your knuckles turned white from the sheer force of your anger-turned-suppressed-sadness. Did you even exist to him right now?

“Let’s get goin’.” His voice held firm, but you felt anything but. Standing up after him, you slide the knife back into its sheath wrapped against your thigh. You figure a small hum in response would suffice. Before walking out behind him, you glance back at the window that is wide open and clench your jaw. Then you swiftly turn away.

You suppose you should have realized Leon wasn’t serious about you two. All those flirty exchanges and nothing to show for them. You had thought this was just the usual talking stage, but perhaps he never planned for it to go past that. Of course, why would he? With a woman as beautiful as her it would be no competition. You follow him through a hallway in disarray with only a single room at the end of it. Chairs, tables, and other furnishing items were shoved up against the walls with no regard. Inside the small room was nothing special, but you looked around regardless. The fireplace was lit and wood burned and crackled within. There was a table with books and cups strewn across it with chairs around it. You stepped forward, placing your hand on the book that rests at the end of the table. Your eyes scanned over the pages and you barely noticed Leon attempting to press on.

“You could let me get a good look around before you rush me.” You narrowed your eyes at him, your voice dull of emotion. He seems a bit taken aback by it, but his expression melts away into something more his speed; neutral.

“We have more important things to do than read.” Leon holds your gaze and you roll your eyes only to abide by his pace in the end.

His hand reaches out for you. You look up at him from the ground, cautious and hesitant, but accept his help. You didn’t realize how badly you had been smacked into the stone wall until he examined you from behind.

“That’s gonna make a nasty ass bruise.” He scoffs, his demeanor different all of a sudden. You’re quiet, studying his face for a sign. Your lack of reaction causes him to stare back with something almost unreadable then his gaze drops to your lips and back up to your eyes. There’s something soft, but you’re so scared of his soft. Quickly looking away, you roll your shoulder back a few times and groan.

“They pack a punch in here… I hope Ashley is okay. I know they wouldn’t—“ You pause, inhale, then exhale, “Let’s just fine her.”

Leon keeps his eyes trained on you and you alone. He makes you feel naked under his stare; vulnerable and exposed. There’s a beat then he’s matching your steps down the path before you. It’s so painfully awkward, but you only have yourself to thank for that. It would’ve been easier to play the stupid, oblivious second choice as you assumed he’d want you to. But you didn’t want to. You wanted to be selfish in a job that forced you to be only selfless. You wanted him in every possible way and so painfully wholeheartedly it made you want to cry. So badly it felt too heavy on your chest and you struggled to breath against the weight of your wants. What did you have to do to be enough? The pain rushed through you in quick succession. You were thankful Leon was behind you or he’d see the way your lip quivered as you fought back tears the welling in your eyes. 

Leon never promised a future together. He never even let you get your hopes too high. It always hurt knowing he wasn’t all in like you were, but you accepted it nonetheless. Now you feel foolish. You couldn’t convince someone to love you.

Ashley was elated to reunite with you both after Leon comforted her. You stayed back guarding the door, unable to look her in the eyes. She would know something wasn’t quite right with a glance. It was a talent you weren’t anticipating dealing with. Ever since you had both located and saved her, Ashley was keen on asking you questions about your relationship with Leon. You wouldn’t give clear cut answers, but the way your cheeks dusted pink and you tried to hide a smile, Ashley knew. She would be able to spot it a mile away. The older sister-younger sister dynamic came easily between you two as you were relatively close in age to begin with. It was sweet, but also terrifying how she could pinpoint your thoughts with accuracy. Maybe that was your downfall. You wore your heart on your sleeve and Leon kept every little thought and emotion locked up tightly. He wasn’t stoic by any means; capable of laughing, smiling, and joking. He was just…guarded. Way better at it than you were. If she couldn’t get answers from him she could get them from you. It was easy to tell yourself that talking about how you felt made it somewhat better, but then you’d have to admit what you avoided. You’d have to tell Ashley she was right all along. These were words you weren’t sure you could say.

There was a knock on the double door behind you. A signal that he and Ashley were finished talking. Once you had walked in, Ashley ran up and hugged you with all her might (which was surprisingly a lot). Her head easily rested against your shoulder due to you both being very similar heights. You, of course, embraced her back and the lump in your throat came back. Warm, comforting…it was what you needed most with your conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The moment was broken by Luis on Leon’s earpiece. You and Ashley slowly pulled away from each other as you watched. From what you both could hear it sounded as if Luis was in quite a predicament. You frowned, but there was a hint of amusement in your eyes at their interaction. The transmission is cut short and Leon’s face is contorted in annoyance.

“Can’t believe that guy.” He scoffs, doing one last sweep of the room for anything remotely useful before your journey continues.

“He’s in trouble. We can’t just leave him, right?” Ashley was not fully separated from you, concern glistening in her eyes. She was sweet, but Leon looked exasperated having to come to Luis’s aid. He was an interesting guy despite his past dealings and you couldn’t lie about feeling distrusting of him, but he made you laugh and it was hard to not like someone who did that. You join him in taking a quick look around before he pushes the door open to reveal a hedge maze below. You lean against the railing, pulling your rifle off your pack and situated in your hands. You peered through the scope. A lone Colmillo stalked a pathway across from your group.

“Fifteen?” You asked.

“This isn’t even a fair bet.” Leon huffed a small laugh, crossing his arms as he watched your target. You hummed, taking aim and watching for a moment to catch the creature off guard. The second he stood still your finger squeezed the trigger and a loud shot rang out across the maze. His body fell limp to the floor. You leaned back and Leon whistled, ruffling your hair. For just a minute you forgot why you were even upset and welcomed his gentle touch.

“Alright, write it down. I owe you fifteen bucks.” He playfully rolled his eyes at you. When his back turned, you watched him saunter off down the steps with his handgun ready. Ashley glanced at you.

“Did he do something?” Her voice was soft and gentle as if you were a cornered animal. You hardly realized the frown on your lips and the way your eyebrows creased together. His retreating form made you feel empty. Loneliness thrived.

“Let's not fall behind.” You smiled in her direction, but it never reached your eyes. Now it was Ashley’s turn to frown, but she complied.

Your knuckles turned pearly white as you gripped the golden bars of your cage. Your eyes were focused on the balcony above you where Ashley had been taken. Leon hurried to unlock a door, but was interrupted by another call on his ear piece.

“Ada?” His voice speaking her name caused your stomach to plummet far, far down— or at least that’s how it felt. Every nerve in your body trembled as you bow your head against the bars. The conversation seemed brief as not a minute later he was calling out her name frantically then sighed. You couldn’t even stand the thought of looking at him. It seems that’s all you have felt this last hour; unable to confront the one person you should be able to trust the most.

“C’mon— Hey, are you alright?” His hand barely grazed your shoulder before you whipped around and stared at him with wide eyes. He seemed stunned himself, holding his hand in the air, mouth agape. You couldn’t think, couldn’t move. The ache in your heart and the burning in your lungs. Your chest feels heavy and constricted and you could only watch as he lowered his hand and waited on your cue. But there wasn’t a cue. You wanted to scream at him, but you also wanted to run off alone and scream until your throat was raw and bloodied. Attracting the attention of the castle's inhabitant did not matter, but thinking rationally wasn’t on your agenda currently. You bit the inside of your cheek and inhaled a trembling breath.

“...I’m sorry. I just…” But you couldn’t finish your thought or rather your excuse as none came readily to mind. It should’ve been easy to blame the things you endured, but that wasn’t it. And even if you were to voice the real reason you would feel idiotic. Leon was in mission mode and didn’t need a lovesick girl making a scene while the President’s daughter was snatched from their hands.

“You haven’t been acting like yourself. One moment you’re talking to me like normal and the next you’re— You seem so angry.” Of course he would pick the worst time to wrangle the truth from you. His eyes were so sincere, but his features weren’t soft. There was determination dancing in his tone as he spoke.

“It’s just this whole mission.” You were quick to excuse yourself, but Leon followed.

“Is that really it?” He brushed his fingers on your elbow, but you refused to look back at him. You’d kill for one of those Zealots to interrupt this moment, but God wasn’t so kind.

“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but everything is so fucked up. I’m just not doing so well.” It absolutely murdered you to seem so weak and vulnerable to something you both had been groomed for, but it was easier to use that as an excuse than confess to being head over heels for your partner. Of course, it wasn’t like Leon hadn’t already blurred that line. He proved it in the way he stepped around you to stand face to face once more. You didn’t need to look up to know exactly how he was watching you. In fact, it was better you didn’t. One look into those mesmerizing blue eyes and your anger and sadness would waver. It was so easy to forget when he looked at you like that. Leon cautiously raised a hand and wrapped it very gently around your elbow, caressing the material of your black long sleeve. The fabric had already been snared by a close call with a Zealot and his crossbow. He could make out the vibrant blue and purple painting the soft skin of your arm. You were littered in battle wounds and deep bruises.

“We’ll handle this the same way we always have. Together.” He was soft spoken and reassuring. It only made you want to cry. How could he be so kind when breaking your heart?

“Yeah…yeah. Let’s go find Ashley.” You finally matched his gaze with a meek smile. He was hurting you and didn’t even notice. Leon was ever the oblivious type unless you made it apparent. He looked over you with confliction as if something was stuck in his throat and he didn’t know how to say it. His hand fell down your arm, fingertips bumping against yours as if he was attempting to muster up the courage to hold it. You could feel your heart rate speed up at his simple gesture. You quickly cover the lower half of your face with your hand and turn away from him.

“I said let’s go find Ashley!” You sped walked over to the room that opened up beside you guys earlier.

“As you wish.” He huffed a laugh and you could just hear the smile. He knew he had gotten to you.

The mineshaft was damp, musty, and smelled heavily of rockdust. You sat next to Leon as he flexed his arms, watching the limb very carefully for any protruding veins. Luis proudly leaned against a structure. You wished you could finally breathe a sigh of relief that the suppressant worked, but Leon was a ticking time bomb. Any moment the infection could regain control and the symptoms would resurface. How long did he have until then? What measures could you both take to hold it at bay? You were overthinking and thinking overall was bad, you knew that. If you thought for too long you would eventually break away piece by piece until nothing was left of you but brittle bones and teeth. Your heart was shattering for a man who would not give you his eternity.

So you did the next best thing: walk away from the problem— literally. Feigned the desire to strategize while he recovered and hid away between wooden crates and empty drums. It wasn’t home, but you could breathe. The ache in your chest and lungs subsided as you drew your knees to your chest and wrapped your weary arms around them. Held them as close as you wanted to hold him but he longed for the embrace of another; a woman dressed in red and confidence. An image of her face flashed through your exhaustion riddled mind and you simpered. You were a kettle ready to shriek from the pressure that built deep within. Only your shrieking would be a spectacle. It would be tables turning, glass shattering. You would not go with grace for that was admitting a defeat only you knew of. Was letting go even possible? Leon left a scar on you that would never fade and every fall you’d see him in the fog like a phantom of the past. He was inescapable. And you wanted to be selfish anyways, hold onto him like he’d dissolve into ash if you let go.

“You look…stressed.” A familiar voice startled you out of your thoughts. Eyes wide like a deer in headlights, staring up at Luis as he held your attention with his signature smirk. You scoffed, stretching your legs out while he took a seat beside you.

“That’s an understatement. All this Plagas bullshit is getting on my nerves.” You fibbed through pearly white teeth. The words felt bitter on your tongue and you were unable to hold his gaze.

“Is it really that?” He asked. You froze. Your expression remained neutral, but Luis could feel the confliction radiating off of you like body heat.

“Is that answer not good enough? I know I’m bad at lying, but have some sympathy.” Your words spilled from your lips with a tremble. Your voice cracked into a whisper as if you strained to maintain composure and perhaps that was precisely the struggle. A question. It was simple and you could have lied again. But you were weak and he was honest.

Luis sighed, smiling softly to himself while looking at the ground, “I’ve spent my whole life mastering that and you can’t fool a professional.”

Now you were fraying at the seams. Every emotion bloated in size and threatened to burst. Heavy was the weight you burdened yourself with. Droplets fell like pearls on the floor of the mineshaft, collecting dirt on its spherical surface until it popped and soaked in. You looked up for a brief moment wondering if the ceiling was leaking only to discover you had begun to cry. Ducking your head down again, you pulled the hem of your sleeve up your palm and used it to dab the tears streaming down your face.

“That was kind of corny.” You sputtered a laugh and sniffled.

“Corny? I think you’re just embarrassed and don’t want to admit it.” He was right, but you refrained from answering. Instead, you inhaled deep breaths as you patted down your damp cheeks.

“I guess you can know, but it’s a secret between us.” It was meant to come across as humorous, but you sounded pathetic, “It hurts. Ya’know, being in love with someone who belongs to someone else.”

Luis didn’t interrupt. He also didn’t belittle you for how you felt. He sat there, listening attentively, and occasionally nodding along so you knew he was still listening. It meant the world and more to you. Had Ashley been here you knew you’d have broken down the same way in front of her, but she was so far away and you were so fragile. Luis was a shoulder to cry on; something you needed for a long while. 

“I don’t really know the specifics, but…maybe you’re not looking at it from the right angle.” Luis merely suggested and you could hear the struggle in his words as he chose what to say very carefully. It made you laugh again.

“Hey, we ready to go?” This time, Luis was startled as well, but he hid it quickly behind a cheshire grin. You looked up to see Leon a few feet away. In the dim lantern light, he appeared holy. If you were to believe in something, you’d believe in his divinity. Something godly walked among men and you weren’t the religious type, but you didn’t need to be. Shaking your head gently, you stumbled onto your feet. Leon watched you cautiously. You knew your eyes were red and puffy, but you merely walked past him to the path forward. It took awhile for you to realize they had fallen behind, but the further away you were from him, the more at ease you felt. 

If looks could kill, yours would be lethal. In fact, you spent the entire boat ride avoiding absolutely any eye contact with Ada. It was awkward and Leon was tense. You expected him to make his move here, but that was more so your imagination. As soon as Ada had left and the boat stilled at shore, you leapt forward to grab his arm. You don’t know what came over you. It was almost on instinct you attached yourself to him. Leon looked down at you, eyes filled with bewilderment. The waves crashed against the rocks below you both, filling the silence with ambient sounds. When he fully turned to face you, you pushed yourself off him and heaved a shaky breath. 

“Leon—”

“This is about Ada, isn’t it?” You paused, snapping your head up to meet his eyes. It was like he gave you permission to combust, word vomit everything you had been thinking and feeling the entire time.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” It came out close to a whisper, but you tested the waters with it.

“Hey now—” But he was effectively cut off as you picked up a rock and threw it at the boat with all your might. Now he was just confused. This didn’t stop him taking a step back as you found more ammo to unleash on the one thing that did absolutely nothing to you. You pelted it with stone after stone, grunting at the force with which you launched them. It was the same cycle of scour and attack until you became noticeably feeble with your hurling.

“I hate—” The rock hit the very front and left a noticeable dent, “—her so much! I hate that you love her!”

Then you crumbled, meekly tossing the rocks now with no strength behind them. It was cathartic at first, but quickly became meaningless in the face of heartbreak. You were now a shell of your red-hot anger; a bright flame dwindling in the rain until the glowing embers were burnt out. For the first time since this feeling settled on your stomach, you sobbed inconsolably. You covered your mouth with your palms and leaned forward to curl into yourself and released a scream muffled against your skin. It hurt. Everything hurt and you wanted to puke so hard your intestines fell out of your mouth. You wanted to be gruesome and unsightly. You wanted to be swallowed whole by absolutely anything at this point. Unrequited love was too much to bear. Ashley was gone. Luis was dead. You had no one to lean on while you wept so hard you began to choke and gag. The arms that wrapped around your trembling form were so warm and, even if it was Leon’s, you were desperate for comfort.

“Please, please don’t pick her over me. I can’t live with that. You’re not allowed to break my heart like that. You’re supposed to fall for me.” Your hands came up to grip the material of his black shirt, “I want you, Leon. More than anything and if you pick her, then you pick wrong.”

Your conviction was solid. It had to be you and no one else because who better to understand exactly what he was going through than you? The world could end tomorrow, but all that would matter was that he wanted you more than he ever thought of her. You both could fail this mission, you could become parasitic with the rest of them, but you would know he loved you more. It was a simple choice. You or her and you hoped to god he would choose you any day in any lifetime. 

Leon was silent, however. His grip never wavered, but he was in deep thought. Then he pulled back from you and you lifted your head. He leveled his gaze with you. There was something unreadable on his face. His touch was ever so gentle and you swore you would melt if he were any softer. One of his hands reached up to caress your cheek with calloused fingertips. You shuddered, leaning into his touch. As you closed your eyes, you pictured spring and flowers and his smile belonging to you. It was perfect and so were the lip brushing against yours as your eyes fluttered open. There was no time to react; you could only accept his lips pressing against your own in a gentle kiss. There were no sparks, no fireworks, only something akin to the gentle warmth of a fireplace. After what felt like eternity, he pulled away.

“It wasn’t like you gave me a choice anyhow. The moment I looked in your eyes for the very first time, I was fucked.” He chuckled, thumb brushing against your supple cheek as he leaned his forward against your own. You could hardly contain the tears of joy that flooded you now. It felt almost too good to be true, but sometimes that is just the way it goes.

“Good because I was prepared to give a whole speech about it.”

“Powerpoint, too?”

[ivorydragoness44]

“Blush” Part Two Morgie le Fay x Merlin’s Kid! Reader

(A/N: A collaborative piece between @where-dreamers-go and @ivorydragoness44 for a continuation of two magic users who are crushing on each other: Reader who is headmaster Merlin’s kid attending Merlin Academy and Morgie, son of Morgana le Fay. Warnings: Awkward teenage-hood, mention of snakes, and use of (Y/N) for your name. Also Lain translations: facti sunt inanimati (become inanimate) / Ego amo te multum (I like you a lot) / acceptus (welcome/pleasing) Word Count: 4,740 words)

An outdoor common area wasn’t crowded during your lunch time. Various seating and tables welcomed anyone outside of class time. The open area distributed voices into an easily ignorable murmur.

Your usual go-to reading spot in a comfy armchair was exactly what you needed after you had finished eating. Some time to yourself. Time to get a head start on assignments or study. You did neither.

A large volume on momentum spells sat upon your lap. There it laid open to the same two pages for the past ten minutes.

How did I not notice before?

You had been searching through any reliable memory for nearly twenty-four hours since Bridget had cleverly hinted of Morgie’s crush on you. In turn, you realized your own stirring feelings for him in such an odd fashion.

How could I not know my own feelings? You wondered. I know when I’m happy or anxious, impatient, sad, or surprised. Definitely surprised. These feelings were obvious.

Blinking, you retained nothing from the pages before you.

How could you?

You had such a confounding and unanticipated revelation. It was as if you were questioning everything around you as it looked fresh and altered in a way.

Am I in the beginning or all ready in the middle of these feelings? You sighed. I just want it to make sense.

Not that there was much reason for your scurrying between classes the day before. All wrapped in your own mind and hardly making so much as a glance at anyone around you.

That anxious feeling and fluctuating levels of anticipation followed you into a new day. Always on the look out for a specific magically inclined student.

Two more classes and then he’ll be in that one. It’ll be fine. It was fine yesterday.

A sway of greens and black caught your eye from further away. Passing chairs and laughing fairies.

Recognizing the figure only made your heartbeat pick up into a rhythm that made your fingers twitch.

Thoughts whirled in your mind and the large room felt too warm.

I can’t.

Picking up your belongings you dashed around the armchair and sped out into the closer hallway.

I need a quieter place to study anyway, you reasoned with yourself. Your feet took you down a familiar path and soon you had your sights set on a corner seating area. It’s totally normal to sit here, you thought, I’ve done it before. No one really comes here unless they need to. It’s a big school.

Indeed, it was a large academy.

But, who else would sit outside the Headmaster’s office to study other than his offspring? Probably no one.

You sat a bit too upright against the cushions.

I just need to focus. That’s a skill.

Yet shame rose to your cheeks and chest as you considered your escape. A move quite cowardice.

The truth was simple: You were unprepared for the new situation. Having near romantic feelings, more than friendly, towards Morgie was not something you foresaw. The weather, sure, but not a crush. Not int the least.

All you could do was hope to get through the rest of the school day as smoothly as possible…and maybe see Morgie. Maybe.

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

Many questions could be asked within the halls of Merlin Academy. None were deemed silly, mostly.

Why is it called ‘butterflies’ when my stomach flips from seeing (Y/N)? Morgie thought while he strolled to class. They’re nice flips.

Hopping over someone’s school bag, Morgie chuckled and quickly surveyed the common area with its tall windows. He saw the same students chatting animatedly, practicing magic, and keeping close to those they knew.

At the sight of a familiar shade of blue, Morgie felt those butterflies.

(Y/N)! Morgie came to a halt as he watched you speed walk through a threshold with a large volume tucked against you. I wonder what spell book they’re reading now. Or history book.

Being gifted with magic himself, Morgie knew almost exactly how knowledgeable and skilled you were. Magic ran in both of your families. Strong and well-known.

A mental image of your eyes shining in magic filled him with a tickling warmth.

Very magical, he thought dreamily.

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

Mathematics class; intimidating to some, aggravating for others, and a welcomed challenge by few students.

Sitting in the front row of desks made it easier for you to take diligent notes. Goodness knew how important it was for you, child of the knowledge-seeking Merlin. Especially when you continuously fought the urge to check windows’ reflection.

It was just the right lighting. The perfect cloud cover outside. A subtle way to have a look at the classroom.

So what if you were curious?

I’m just checking. That’s all, you thought as you glanced over to Morgie’s reflection.

After twenty minutes of repeating the action every so often it could no longer be considered ‘checking’. No, you were studying Morgie. Observing how he presented himself in class, a learning environment. He didn’t interrupt. Expressive, but not loud.

By the end of class, your notes could had been neater. An easy task for later.

You took your time leaving class. Slowly packing your belongings where they ought to be in your bag. Yet your eyes had began a habit.

You wanted to see him more. To see what might happen.

Is that a side effect of having a crush on someone?

Could you truly call it studying, something you were confident in doing?

Morgie squeezed passed a taller student while heading for the door. It was when he reached it that he looked over his shoulder and caught your gaze.

In the time it took you to hold back your gasp, Morgie had a flush rise up his neck.

Oh.

In a flash, Morgie left the classroom.

You blinked.

What does this even mean?

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

Too much thumping. Too warm and flighty.

Morgie had never shoved and bounded down a hall so fast. Not for avoidance anyway. He had no idea what came over himself.

Eventually stopping underneath a tree, Morgie breathed in the fresh air.

Why does my face have to get so warm? He thought while fighting the urge to hit his forehead on the tree trunk.

Uliana’s words from the day before rung in through his head: “A villain shouldn’t be blushing; not over an honors student.” She had seemed so bewildered then by Morgie’s reaction to you.

It wasn’t as if it was his fault. He didn’t make himself blush on cue, nor did you. If Morgie had it his way, no one would had been able to tell how he liked you. He didn’t want them to.

But (Y/N) probably knows, Morgie thought. They’re too smart not to know I like them. His heartbeat increased steadily.

Seeing your figure ascending a set of stairs took a short gasp out of Morgie.

I could say something.

The youth leapt from out of the foliage, took a few steps, and stopped. His chest felt like it was shaking with the rapid thumps of his heart.

Morgie swallowed. Hazel eyes watching nervously as you walked out of sight.

Maybe another time.

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

A whole week passed with just as many assignments and suggested readings. Knowledge was gained and some sleep was lost. Studying for a text was involved.

Maybe I’m getting better at this, you thought.

Leaving your final class of the day, you held your head a little higher and had a slight bounce to your step. Days were looking up, more positive. Magical, one might say.

You had good news to share with your father, Merlin, and Bridget had given you a copy of a cookie recipe. All good things.

And I’m pretty sure Morgie had looked at me in class today, you thought with a giddy smile.

Oh, that crush of yours? You one hundred percent knew you liked him.

Did you figure out when those feelings started? No, and that bit irritated you. You really wanted to know in order to figure out the details. But your mind liked to keep some secrets it seemed.

On route to your dorm, you avoided the sea of students. Each gathered in various sized groups to socialize after a long day.

You wanted to put your books and all away in your room first. It was a wonder how much you could fit into one bag.

Walking into a near deserted hall with mid-afternoon lighting gave you an odd sense of awareness. No distractions moving about or unpolished enchantments to dodge. It was you, your surroundings, and your senses.

Through those senses, it was easy to notice someone trotting up behind you. Not too fast, but also with intent.

“Hey.”

Your eyes widened a fraction at the sight of Morgie slowing to match your pace.

“Hi.” You greeted lightly and did a quick glance behind him.

He came alone.

This is a bit new.

“How’d you do on the exam?” Morgie asked and gingerly bit his bottom lip.

“Better than I thought. Thankfully. I spent enough time studying for it.”

“I know.”

You looked forward briefly and asked, “How about you? How’d you do?”

“Near perfect.” He nearly smiled from ear to ear. His chest stuck out just enough.

A swell of pride unmistakably grew within you.

“That’s great.” You said, grateful to have an easy conversation. “I’m not surprised.”

Was that too much?

Walking alongside Morgie was quite new. Welcomed and almost peaceful. What blasted all that into the stratosphere was the delighted grin brightening Morgie’s face.

Oh. You could feel your heart squeezing and your own smile widening.

All major smiles dropped once the pair of you reached a staircase.

“I’ll…see you later,” Morgie took a step away.

“See you.” You gave one last smile and started the ascent. Even with eyes focused on the steps ahead of you, you were aware of Morgie’s gaze following your movements.

Definitely a more positive day.

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

Time and one’s innermost desires didn’t always line up as one hoped. Not even with magic.

Morgie had thought his time was perfect, but there were other factors he forgot to take into account.

This could be better, Morgie thought, or worse.

Morgie had followed his band of fellow villains in line for lunch. Stomachs hungry and eyes trained ahead was the usual standing for the students.

For Morgie, however, his fingers twitched and he was much too aware of every movement he made. He could hardly help it. Making an impression and standing out to you kept him on his toes.

You were standing behind him talking with someone. A fairy who was asking for wand advice, apparently.

They’re a really good listener, Morgie thought as he kept waiting to hear your voice. They might be smiling. He managed not to turn around. Even teenagers with magic had some self control. More so, gaining the attention of the other villains wasn’t something he wanted at that moment.

Suddenly, inhaled sharply as he felt the slightest movement of air behind him. You had almost touched him.

Standing so close together in line felt like the best and the worst thing all at once. Morgie could hardly breathe in a normal manner.

“Hey,” Hook tapped Morgie on the shoulder.

His eyes glanced over to the pirate captain. Soon he met the others’ gazes.

“Are you sick?”

Morgie shook his head.

“The line shouldn’t take that long,” said Hades.

“It could be faster.” Uliana pointedly looked ahead.

After quiet observations of Morgie le Fay, the villains turned back around as the line moved up. He was thankful for the lack of questions. Perhas they had thoughts on the weekend ahead. Morgie sort of did.

Hearing your cheerful laughter practically roll through his nervous system reenergized him like a potent potion. He pulled at his thin scarf.

I need to do something.

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

After a rainstorm everything felt alive and…wet.

Nearing the end of your lunch period you had dried off a part of the seating at a table in a courtyard and got to work fixing your notes. Earlier in the day, one of your teachers had spoke faster than you would had preferred. At least the cramp in your hand ebbed.

If they weren’t in a rush to finish the lesson today, you thought, my notes wouldn’t look like a total lopsided disaster trying to keep up. Picking your pen up, you had an idea. Why can’t I let my pen write for me? A mixture of a locomotive spell and personification. It could work. Worth a shot, you thought and set down the pen.

A quick shake of your arms to stay loose, and you straightened your posture.

Any spell started with an intention. With yours set, you spoke clearly and allowed your gift to charge. You had done spells since you were little. This one could be considered a light exercise.

One you completely goofed up when the sight of Morgie le Fay walking by with his hazel eyes already gazing at you threw off your concentration.

“Oh, goodness.”

The pen in front of you didn’t move.

 A startled scream drew your attention to your real mistake. Across the courtyard, a stone bench scampered by a group of students.

“Blast it.” You hit the table and leapt from your seat.

“(Y/N)!” Jasmine and Aladdin shouted, both rushing away from the animated furniture.

“Sorry!” You ran after the bench as it fled form you in a gallop. “Stop!”

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

Merlin Academy allowed magic in the curriculum. No question about it, with a wizard as its headmaster. It was then, expected by most, to see magic nearly everyday, given the various students’ skillsets.

“That looks like fun,” Hades commented on the running bench, Maleficent nudging his arm in disapproval.

“Maybe they like mischief after all.” Hook said to Morgie and peered to his friend. “Morgie?”

No one was beside him. Not anymore.

Moving as fast as his legs could take him, heart pounding, Morgie ran through an alcove. He had a simple plan: cut off the animated bench’s path and stop it before it caused you any harm.

If (Y/N) wanted it to be running amok, they wouldn’t be panicking. A logical thought for the teenager keeping an ear for any sign of the likely misbehaving bench.

Sunlight poured into an opening of a walkway intersection, and Morgie skidded to a halt when he heard your aggravated shouting in Latin. The corner of his lips curved up.

“Come on,” Morgie murmured in a ready stance.

Rhythmic thuds came closer and closer.

Gray stone tumbled around the corner.

“You,” he kept his hands raised, “facti sunt inanimati.”

 A jolt and stiffness hit the bench, stopping altogether. Echoes of its last movements faded into the building.

“Ha.” Morgie gave the bench a good look-over. “Nice try.”

In the next moment, you rounded the corner with determination. Your objective had been completed without you. It stood to reason why your surprise built as you slowed to a stop by the bench.

Backlit from the afternoon’s warm sun and your gaze on Morgie, he found himself speechless.

“Morgie,” you inquired between intakes of air, “did you… Did you stop it?”

He nodded, heartbeat increasing.

A grin brightened your face. “Thank you.”

Morgie stuck out his chest proudly. He could feel himself grinning.

“You, uh, you didn’t have to.” You gave the stone bench a light tap with your shoe.

“I wanted to.”

An expression and emotion came over you, one Morgie couldn’t quite read. You weren’t angry or disappointed. It was neither sadness, irritation, or disgust.

The longer he studied you the more you stood there in wonder.

Should I walk closer? He thought, glad to not be blushing.

“(Y/N),” Fay had scurried into the covered walkway. “Are you all right? Oh! You got it.”

You had turned around to face the fairy, “Actually…”

“It’s all right. I messed up with my wand again yesterday. But, perhaps, we can move the bench back. Somehow.”

“Levitation could work,” you suggested with a cute tilt of your head.

“Yeah. Excellent, (Y/N).”

Standing quietly, Morgie’s heart had a small leap of warmth whenever your name was spoken. A spark of excitement.

“Morgie,” you said looking over your shoulder, “I’m glad the bench didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“It would’ve ran away if it knew what I can do.” He replied feeling more confident.

“I’m sure.” You smirked playfully.

Not so deep down, Morgie really wanted to keep the conversation going despite the new task ahead, Fay standing right there, and an upcoming class. He could probably come up with something.

“Uh.”

Both you and Morgie looked to Fay as she stood waiting with her wand at the ready. Patient as she was, Fay appeared confused at your interaction.

Good. She doesn’t need to know.

“I have to run.” Morgie leaned forward and allowed his magic to alter his eyes. “You can catch me later.”

After witnessing surprise on your lovely face, Morgie took his leave. Blushing was the last thing on his mind this time.

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

Warm afternoon sunlight made the headmaster’s office cozy and nowhere near intimating. It could also be the familiarity and the sheer number of books in your father’s office. Not particularly a surprise for you.

The actual surprise came earlier when you decided to talk to your father about what had been nagging at the back of your mind.

If only you could get yourself to that topic.

“You heard about that?” You cringed, slouching into your seat.

“I did.” Merlin said calmly as he sipped his tea. “It’s not often a stone bench runs around the academy. Oh, don’t take it to heart. Mistakes happen. We can learn from them.” Ever the understanding and intelligent man. Anything could be a lesson in his view.

Now’s as good a time as ever, you thought apprehensively.

“I…was distracted.” You admitted quietly, nervously.

Setting down the teacup, he looked at you pointedly.

“Well now, you know better than that.” He cleared his throat, “especially with others around.”

“I know. I know. It’s just… It doesn’t make sense,” you rambled on, “it’s like one day everything’s normal and then… Oh, goodness.” You sunk further into the furniture a little embarrassed. “I have…feelings for someone.”

Merlin chuckled, “I see!”

“But I don’t know when it started so that I can know fully why.”

“Very illogical and confusing. You might never know.”

“What?”

He continued to chuckle happily. “There’s no logical explanation for this.”

You grumbled, thought half-heartedly with how your father was in such a good spirits.

“A most befuddling thing.”

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

Late in the evening when crickets started chirping and owls were starting their day, villains mingled in an enormous rotting eel. An excellent place as any to hang out after school at the black lagoon.

Moods were high and shared as the motley crew recalled the chaos you enchanted bench caused. A real highlight of the day.

“I’ve never seen a fairy fall into bushes before,” Maleficent snickered with a swirl of her hair.

“Or a wave of students diving out of the way.” Hook laughed along with the others.

“Who knew (Y/N) could cause such glorious chaos.” Uliana added gleefully.

“Speaking of fleeing,” Hades turned to Morgie. “Where’d you run off to? You missed the fun.”

“I caught up with (Y/N).” Morgie replied as all attention fell to him.

“Oh, you spent time with Merlin’s goodie goodie?” Uliana teased playfully. She wasn’t oblivious to how Morgie acted around you.

Feeling more confident and a tad bashful, Morgie added, “I think (Y/N) and I could cause some mischief together.”

“Now that I’d like to see.” Uliana said positively.

“Merlin’s child without a book? How shocking,” Maleficent said and patted Hades’ arm.

“They mustn’t be afraid of the dark,” Hades said casually.

“Aye, but how much do they like it?” Hook questioned and looked to the young sorcerer.

Morgie breathed in slowly. “I’ll have to find out.”

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

Sounds of water and chirping of birds ground you after what felt like the longest class of the semester. An exaggeration of course. But being by a water feature with friends between classes helped ease your mind.

“Is there a world where you’d consider not being in honors classes? It would give you some freedom.” Jasmine smiled encouragingly. “Or do you like a challenge?”

You shook your head, laughing. “I like learning. Is that so bad?”

“You’re not trapped in expectations are you?”

“Trapped? No. Trying to ignore them? Definitely.”

“I have some experience with—No!” Her words broke into a yelp as she looked down to where you both stood.

“Oh!”

A cream colored snake slithered over your shoe. Not a large one, and it hardly had any weight to it at all.

Odd, you thought and bent down to inspect the creature.

“Be careful.” Jasmine said from a couple of steps away.

“I will,” you squinted and almost laughed once you made a discovery. “Oh? It’s paper.”

“What?”

You chuckled and held out your hand. The parchment, very much enchanted, coiled upon the palm of your hand.

“Will it bite?” She inquired.

“What bites?” Aladdin showed up, almost out of nowhere. His gaze went from Jasmine to where hers was locked. “Are you planning to trick someone?”

“No.” You Brough your hand closer to you and added, “I’ll check it out. No worrying, all right?”

“All right.” Jasmine relented. “I’ll see you in class.”

Giving a wave to the happy pair, you departed for some seclusion. It was truly a good thing that the academy was large and not a simple rectangular building.

This is not a trick, you thought as your mind quickly narrowed down who would enchant paper to be a snake. Those thoughts only made your heart rate quicken.

As inconspicuously as you could manage while not fast-walking, you ducked behind a tree full of branches to obscure yourself from view. The last thing you wanted was a nosy student popping up behind you.

“Alright,” you exhaled and held the ‘snake’ up. “Do you have a message for me?”

With a shiver and nod, the paper snake unrolled before its serpentine enchantment subsided.

“Huh.”

Heat rose to your chest and neck.

It is form Morgie.

Your eyes had looked to the signature first before reading his message in its entirety.

(Y/N), Ego amo te multum. In my chest there is a hum every time I see you and hear your name it’s fluttering and warm and all the same. It’s new and acceptus and I wish you and I were an “us”. Please reply yay or nay. If negative, destroy this letter today. Morgie

Hardly knowing if you were breathing properly or what time it was, you read the letter two more times. You had to be certain you weren’t mistaken. Your heart threatened to burst! metaphorically, of course.

Morgie le Fay did like you! It wasn’t just a misreading of situations. He liked you a lot.

Him writing in Latin may had got you a little flustered, but you’d manage.

Quickly with shaking hands, you folded the letter and stashed it into your bag.

Yup. This is new. Befuddling maybe. You thought as you attempted a few calm breaths. He likes me! A wide smile curved your lips. Oh, wait, wait. I need to reply. Reply…and say what?

⭐︎ ⭐︎ ⭐︎

As with each weekday, the rest of the school day went by. Each spare moment gave you a chance to breathe more consciously and time to contemplate what to write back to Morgie. Obviously, you would. It needed to be written just right.

Morgie liked you and you liked him. For once in your life, you needed to fully express that in words. No more avoidance. Time had come to admit your emotions.

A little intimidating, but he took a big step—a chance. I can do the same, you thought as you walked into your dorm room. Your safe place. No more hiding. It took me long enough to figure out how I feel. I can do this.

So your writing began. Many scratched out marks and revisions later, the reply to Morgie’s confession was complete.

Morgie, How could I reply with a simple Yay? My dear Morgie le Fay Ego amo te multum. I have found where the hum comes from. It’s from oneself being incredibly happy. I have it too. You may have my reply, YAY And I’m keeping your letter. Affectionately, (Y/N)

Thankful to have finally written with a steady hand, you folded the letter and enchanted it to fly as a bird. Speedy delivery for the sorcerer who would without a doubt be hoping for a reply.

Poor Morgie had to wait hours all ready. I hope he doesn’t think I burned his letter, you thought anxiously. But if he didn’t have hope or bravery that I might feel similarly, then he wouldn’t have sent the letter in the first place. Oh, goodness, how do people deal with this?

All you could do was pace the floor of your room.

What else could you do?

Your thoughts were no where settled to do anything academic. So you waited.

Waited for what exactly? You were not certain.

Anything and everything could happen. Even nothing.

Just breathe. You did your part. You leaned against your bed. Then again, there are no instructions for these sort of…illogical things.

About ten minutes since you had sent out the letter, there came an unfamiliar knock on your door. It spooked you as if you had been sitting in the dark alone.

Apprehension to disappointment of another person and nerves overcame you then. There was only one way to find out who knocked.

Be brave.

You walked up to the door.

Unless it’s Ella returning my book…

Upon opening the door, you were doubly happily surprised to see a beaming Morgie with very tidy hair, holding a single flower. The sort of flora that grew around the school grounds.

“Hi.” Morgie stood almost completely still.

“Hi. What are you doing here?” You asked with a grin.

“I wanted to see you.”

Your chest swelled with warmth and all you could do was stare at him, the body who liked you back.

Hazel eyes peered passed you and Morgie tilted his head.

“Why do you have crumbled paper all over your desk?”

Looking over your shoulder briefly, you laughed. “The first few drafts of my reply.”

“Oh,” Morgie raised his free hand to reveal a piece of paper. “Like this?”

“More rambling and messy because I was nervous, but yes.”

“Affectionately nervous?” A smirk upturned his lips slowly.

“Happily so.”

Beaming, Morgie took a step forward, but stopped as he was unsure of your reaction or preference of closeness. He looked ever so adorable. A letter from you in one hand a flower held in the other.

A hug I can handle.

Taking a step back into your room, you held out your arms and beckoned him in for a hug.

Morgie didn’t waste a second of your invitation. The two of your embraced. All nervous jitters forgotten. Enjoying the affection from the other with all the giddiness, warmth, and comfort that came with it.

“I really, really like you,” Morgie whispered onto your shoulder. His arms embraced you a little tighter, emotions shown freely.

I could hear that on repeat.

“I really, really like you,” you said, happy your voice didn’t crack. “Maybe we could do something this weekend?” Your bravery had come out full force.

Was there anything to be nervous about anymore in regards to your feelings?

Morgie leaned back to look at you with bright eyes.

“Yeah! Anything.” His excitement level escalated.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” he insisted. “A walk, a prank, trying a new spell, causing mischief, or dinner.”

“You’ve had time to think about this.”

“All day and when I ran here.”

“You ran?”

“I wanted to see you,” he repeated and finally offered you the flower.

You accepted the flower without hesitation.

Perhaps your time and future with Morgie would be something like that. Beautiful and unexpected. More than anything, you knew it would be magical.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

[niki-phoria]

hii! can I request a foreigner 8th member of enhypen studying Korean with niki except they just keep using it to flirt with each other and the other member who’s teaching them (heeseung/jungwon/jay whoever) is like damn I didn’t come here to third wheel and they get all flustered hihi

Rlly love your work! It’s so difficult to find gn reader fics so your blog is rlly one of my comfort safe spaces 💙

pairing: niki x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 613

includes: flirty niki, lowkey secret dating au, reader isn't korean but race/ethnicity aren't specified, this is short i'm sorry i had no ideas ://

a/n: thank you for requesting !! it means so much that this blog is a safe space <33 i hope you like it :))

requests open !! read my rules first

niki leans his head against your shoulder as you pull out your textbooks. you flip through the pages until you find the chapter you had been working on. beside you, jay raises an eyebrow at the unusual affection from niki, though neither of you notice it. 

“we left on adjectives last time,” jay says. “why don’t we work on more vocabulary?” you glance at niki for confirmation before nodding at jay. “okay, there’s a list of different words, i think we should practice using them in sentences. you can make up whatever sentences you want, just focus on grammar structure and picking words from the list.”

your practice begins routinely - you and niki take turns practicing how to use more and more complex words to change the context every now and then. jay speaks up to correct you every now and then, offering feedback on your pronunciation or pointing out how small variances change the meaning completely.

it isn’t long until niki’s half of the conversation stalls as he stares into your eyes. you can feel yourself growing increasingly flustered under his watch. his lips quirk upwards as you nervously look away from him and back down to your notes. “your eyes are pretty.”

“yeah?” you turn to look back at him, cocking your head. 

“yeah,” niki nods. “you have pretty eyes and a pretty smile.” 

jay scoffing behind you makes you jump slightly. he raises an eyebrow at you, eyes moving from you to niki. “are you two flirting? in front of me?” his faux offense makes you laugh as you turn back to the notes in your textbook. 

“we’re not flirting!” 

niki’s poor defense falls of deaf ears as jay playfully continues teasing. “really? you’ve never told me that i have pretty eyes or a pretty smile.”

“maybe i just don’t think that you’re pretty.” 

you laugh as jay playfully gasps, putting a hand over his heart. “well, if you two are gonna sit here and flirt, then i’m gonna go.”

“we weren’t flirting!” you call after him. you can’t help the laugh that escapes you when the door closes behind jay. niki is quick to join in as you collapse onto your shared bed beside him in a fit of giggles. “we should keep studying,” you whisper. 

“we should,” niki replies. “but since when have we ever followed the rules?” 

his teasing makes you chuckle even more as he reaches up to wrap his arm around your waist, tugging you down to lay beside him. you let out a sigh as you relax beside him against the covers. you shift even closer to him so you’re resting your head against his chest as his grip around you tightens ever so slightly. 

you fall into a comfortable silence together. niki’s eyes slowly begin to flutter closed in the silence until you break it with a whisper. “do you think he knows?”

“hm?” 

“jay. do you think he knows about us?”

“maybe.” 

you shift to look up at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “maybe? you’re really not worried that he might know about us dating?”

“even if he does-”

“he probably does.”

“even though he does,” niki continues. “he’ll support us. all of the hyungs will. we both know that.” you sigh, laying back down against his chest. you let the steady rhythm of his heart beating calm your own anxieties as he rubs a gentle hand against your back. 

“hey,” niki whispers, tilting your head up to look at him. “i love you. regardless of what happens or who finds out, i’ll still love you.”

you smile, leaning up to pull him into a sweet kiss. “i love you too.”

[greetingfromthedead]

12. Gunpoint Stranger

Series: Apple Blossoms Pairing: Knives x GN!Reader Word count: 3.2k

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You rise before the suns. You're so used to cold and quiet mornings that this one immediately strikes you as different. You are warm, snuggled up in a soft blanket in addition to your flimsy sleeping bag. Winds howl over the desert dunes, occasionally spraying the grains from the very tops of the mounds, but you are sheltered in the little valley in the sand. As you sit up, you're careful to keep the warm covers around you. The cold night air seeks every crack in your defenses to chill your sleep warm body. You realize it is Knives's blanket that keeps you comfortable and safe from the elements, which makes you look around for signs of him.

You can still make out the line of footsteps that lead up and over the dune, but nothing else. He is not on his sleeping pad, and there are no other paths. You're filled with dread that he has gone off on his own. The moment that thought crosses your mind, you get up, your blood running colder than the night air. You got angry at him last night; one might even call it a fight. You felt hurt and frustrated by the sudden shift in the way he acted and the words he said. You admitted to him something you never thought you would. Did it all cross a line? Did you scare him away while he is still healing?

Clumsily you stumble along his path until you can see the very top, where you spot him lying on his side, curled up, unmoving. Somehow this is worse than not finding him at all. What is he doing here? What happened? The questions bang loudly in your head as you make your way to Knives, kneeling before him. He looks peaceful, his arms folded under his head, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. He is asleep. Relief washes over you, the sigh you let out getting drowned out by the wind. You still don't understand how he got into this situation. Why do you have his blanket, and why does he not sleep on his mattress, sheltered from the wind? He is a strange man, and there is still so much you don't understand about him.

You consider waking him up, but you have noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the hints of tiredness on his face. While he doesn't complain, you can tell he has trouble sleeping. You wish you could help him figure out what causes the insomnia, but you're too afraid he will take it as a personal attack. Maybe you can trade for some tea today that will calm his nerves and help him rest. You take the blanket that somehow didn't fly away from your shoulders. Carefully and softly, you drape it over Knives, resting your hand gently on his upper arm to avoid the cover from getting carried away by the wind while you tuck the edges around him. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you watch him sleep. He is strange beyond words, and you remember the wing that grew from his back the night you first saw him. Maybe one day you get to ask about it.

You descend back into the valley where you rouse the toma from their slumber. Normally it would be about time to start getting ready to head out with the suns' first light, but today you decide to postpone. Fairvale is your destination, and it is not far away; you will have no issues getting there before nightfall. So you settle the birds, bribing them with food and water to stay calm and quiet so Knives can rest.

Filling the time is quite easy. Usually you spend minimal daylight on generic tasks like organizing and cleaning, but today you can afford to do that. You finally fold your clothes properly, making sure you can easily grab the dirty ones as soon as you get the opportunity to do laundry. You make sure your medical supplies are all in order. You clean your tools and the toma's gear. And when Knives still hasn't woken up, you take a book from your saddlebag, happy to be able to read it as you wouldn't want to waste the dim burner light for this purpose. You pick up where you left off; the pages of the little book are worn and soft from being read and reread countless times. Some pages are dog-eared from the previous owners, marking their favorite lines and quotes. It has been well loved by many before you.

Knives comes down before noon. He doesn't look at you, avoiding eye contact as he descends, his feet sinking into the fine sand. His blanket is neatly folded over his arm, ready to be packed away with the sleeping mat and pillow. He acts like you aren't there at all, walking to his spot and settling down without saying a word. His expression is unreadable, distant, and guarded.

"Eat a little something. I was thinking of getting a proper lunch once we arrive in Fairvale," you say as you reach your hand out with a meal bar. You push the closed book under your pillow with the other hand, hiding it from view. Knives takes the food, his fingers just barely touching yours before he pulls back.

"You should wear the cape. Pull up the hood." You continue to speak as Knives eats. "You might look shady, but at least they won't recognize you. There are more people here, and not all of them know me, so we can't bank on them trusting me. It is a somewhat cautious place; they might be careful around strangers. Not to mentionthat we are almost at Octovern."

He doesn't react to your words and continues to eat. He pulls out a small canteen and drinks from it in deep gulps. You watch him, observing his Adam's apple bob up and down along his long, toned neck as he swallows. In the beginning you barely saw past his injuries. He was battered and bruised, one foot in the grave. But now that he is mostly alright, you find yourself admiring him more and more often; at first it was to confirm his improving health, but nowadays you find yourself looking at his handsome face and strong figure. You no longer see him as a patient but as a companion, even a friend, but you aren't sure if he knows what that even is. He remains a mystery. From the rumors you've heard to what you've seen yourself, there is so much more to him that remains hidden.

Begrudgingly, you turn your gaze away, looking at the toma, who clean themselves, digging their beaks into the feathers of their wings, getting every bit of dirt out. You should get started on saddling them for the journey, but it would make stealing glances harder. You decide to wait for a little bit longer, occasionally looking from the corner of your eye as Knives finishes his small meal.

With practiced routine, you eventually pack up your camp. Knives rolls his bed gear into the sleeping mat before saddling his tomas; he even strokes the bird's neck and allows it to nuzzle its beak into his large palm. He still hasn't said anything, but when he thinks you can't see, his face reveals that he is battling with something. His thoughts are far away, occupied with things he probably doesn't want you to know so you don't pry.

To make walking easier for the toma, you guide them up the steeper dune by their headgear without getting on their backs. The toma's steps are slow and deliberate while you make your way diagonally upward. As you reach the top, the wind picks up speed, causing the sand to whip around you in a frenzy. It rips at the cloaks you and Knives wear, stinging your skin as you shield your eyes from the onslaught. It is not quite a sandstorm, but it feels like one. You overlook the landscape; it seems to get more level after the first few mounds, so you keep going on foot, hoping to spare the birds by not making them go up and down steep banks with your additional weights in this wind.

You lead the way, half a step in front of Knives and his tomas; you come up to another dune, but before you can start to climb up it, a figure appears from the top. He is wrapped in a ripped cloak, but he seems skinny and tall, a long unkempt beard covering his face.

"Halt!" he cries, pointing a gun at you.

Immediately you raise your hands, showing that they are empty except for the reins. You look at the man, examining his expression the best you can. You look at him taking a step closer, the weapon still pointed at you. You try to stay calm and keep eye contact, hoping he will see you mean no harm.

Knives sees the man too; he notices the rustiness of the drawn weapon and the unsteadiness of his feet. His head does a million calculations from what he sees. He could laugh in his face; the puny and weak man stands no chance against him even in his current state. He would probably miss with that shake in his hand. His posture is unfortunate, his footing unsteady. Knives could just sit back and let that man make a fool of himself. He could even survive a shot if one hit by some miracle. There is no threat to his life here. None.

But without even thinking, purely subconsciously, Knives pulls the knife from the side of your saddlebag and positions himself in front of you with a long step. He doesn't lunge forward to attack, which would be the easy and natural way for him, but instead he remains standing in the path of the bullet that is currently aimed at you. Knives waits with the knife pointed at the stranger, his free hand outstretched to block your way. It all happens before Knives can finish his thought. He even surprises himself with that. His heart races in his chest for no apparent reason at all.

"Leave your gear and the toma! Take ten steps back! I will shoot!" The man shouts with a raspy voice that sounds painful. The stranger's eyes are wild and filled with desperation. He stops halfway down the dune, leaving enough space between you to remain outside of what he thinks is the knife's range. His hand is shaking as he points the gun directly at Knives, his finger hovering over the trigger.

Knives is a millisecond away from making a move. His body is tense, drawn tight like a bow, ready to bounce and attack with the pure intent to kill. His knuckles are pale as he grips the handle of the knife, but your gentle hand takes hold of his arm that holds the blade, and you step out from behind his figure. The barrel of the gun shifts, following you as you come into sight.

"You're hurt. Aren't you?" Knives hears your voice say as his eyes flick between you and the stranger.

"A wound in your leg and a hurting shoulder. Correct? You seem dehydrated too. I can help you if you put away your gun," you say calmly, keeping your eyes on the man opposite you. "I have supplies in my bag that can help, but it is better if I do it."

Knives feels frustrated. He hears your composed voice, and he knows you mean every word. But he doesn't trust the man who still looks tense and suspicious. He could still put an end to it, put an end to the threat, but your hand that gently guides his arm down feels like a chain, something he cannot defy. He stays frozen, his eyes locking on the stranger even as the tip of his blade is pointed downward thanks to you. Even in this situation, he feels your hand holding his forearm, the imprint of each of your spread fingers burned into his skin.

"I will just take a waterskin from the saddle. Is that alright?" You continue, waiting for the small nod of the stranger before taking the container filled with liquid and tossing it at his feet and raising your hands again.

Carefully the man bends down and picks up the waterskin, his face twisting in pain as he uses his other arm. His aim gets more lazy as he focuses his efforts on opening the skin, but he finally manages to take a sip of the water inside. His whole demeanor changes with the first gulp, a look of relief washing over his features, and the hand holding the weapon falls to his side as he continues to desperately drink.

Your gaze shifts to Knives, who has a severe look on his face. You give him a reassuring smile. You want him to know it is alright; you have it under control. There is no need for violence and bloodshed. He doesn't relax in the least even as he looks back at you. He is still tense and on edge. He is gripping the knife tightly in his hand.

A sigh of relief reaches your ears as the man lowers the hand with the waterskin. His head still leans back as he breathes heavily. His grip on the weapon is loose, and he looks like he has forgotten about it; the only thing on his mind is the water you offered him.

"Would you let me examine you? I can help. Just put the weapon away. Please." You plead softly.

"It's not loaded," the stranger admits before looking downwards to meet your gaze. He doesn't look nearly as crazed anymore, the look in his eyes replaced with gratitude. He puts the weapon into its holster on his hip, and you take a step closer.

You introduce yourself, stretching your arm out towards the man. "Feel free to call me Doc. Everyone else does."

"Carl," he responds simply, his bony fingers taking hold of your hand.

"Come, Carl, let's have a look at you," you say, still holding his hand even after he is done shaking it to help him down the sandy slope.

Knives remains where he is, watching the two of you with an expression that can only be described as loathing. It seems wrong. Everything about this. Why would you choose to be kind to someone who threatened your life? Why would you not want him to receive the same treatment? Why would you accept such a risk? Humanity is always greedy, taking what they please with no regard for others. That man wanted to take everything from you, yet here you are now, holding his hand and helping him in every way you can. It makes his stomach turn.

"Would you hold on to the toma in case they get spooked? Please?" you ask with a smile as you raise your gaze to look at Knives. His expression softens slightly. You choose to show him kindness too, even though his hands are painted red with the blood of your kin. Everything he did, he did for similar reasons than the stranger called Carl. You haven't asked about his past. You haven't even really wondered out loud. You must know. It was in the paper. His posters are plastered on every wall of every settlement. Yet you smile all the same, your eyes tender, your voice calm.

"Tell me what happened," you continue as you start examining the man after helping him sit down on the bedroll you pulled from your saddle.

"I come from Silvercrest," the man starts, his voice still rough like sandpaper. "A horrible disease has taken hold there! Messengers were sent out to every larger settlement in the area. Nothing got better; just more and more people started to get sick. We got supplies, but they weren't enough. I decided to leave again before I got the sickness too. Maybe I am a coward for that, but I didn't want to die. I traveled this way; I wanted to seek shelter in Fairvale. I was mugged by some bandits two days ago. They took everything. My supplies, my food, everything. That's how I got the wound too."

"But weren't you just coming from Fairvale?" you ask as you examine the cut on his leg.

"Yes," Carl sighs, "They turned me away as soon as they heard I am from Silvercrest. They are afraid I will bring them the disease too. But I am not sick! I'm really not! I would never want another settlement to suffer like mine does!"

Knives puts the knife back into the sheath as he holds the toma by their headgear. He has turned his side towards you, keeping watch from the corner of his eye. He doubts this man is as noble as to not lie about an infection just to get shelter and food. Especially since just moments ago he had a gun pulled on the two of you. The whole situation makes him angry, but he does his best not to show it, stroking the long necks of the birds and keeping himself busy.

"How did you hurt your shoulder?" You continue your examination.

"Struggle at Fairvale's gate. They threw me out when I pleaded for them to let me stay."

"I'm sorry it happened to you," you say sympathetically, "but I have news from Silvercrest if you would like to hear."

"Depends. Are they bad news?"

"No, they are good news." Knives hears slight amusement in your voice, and it makes his stomach tingle. "We seem to have gotten the infection under control. Jenny is taking care of everyone, and I am on my way to get more supplies. Things are looking up there."

"Thank the gods," Carl exclaims.

Knives can't help but think with annoyance that he should thank you instead. Without you choosing to care, the town would be inhabited by nobody but the dead by now. A whole settlement wiped off the map if it wasn't for you. What do gods have to do with this?

"I can confirm that you do not seem to be sick with the Silvercrest disease, and the wound in your leg doesn't need stitches. I'll clean it for you and bandage it up. You should take it easy for a few days, both for your leg and the shoulder. How about you come with us? I'll explain the situation to the guards or whoever else I need to. I happen to know some people in Fairvale, it will work out fine. You can't just wander into the desert with nothing but an unloaded gun."

Knives listens to you talk to the man. His stomach and chest feel stranger and stranger with each word. He can't help but stare daggers at the man, his eyes cold and piercing. He doesn't trust him. He doesn't want you to act so calm and familiar around the stranger. He does not want him to join the two of you on your journey to the settlement, no matter how short or long the distance may be. Perhaps he should have ignored your hand that lowered his knife. Maybe he would feel better.

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[bosinclairsgff]

Could you please write a NSFW about Dale and Ruth fucking in the first month of living together?

You are wild but I appreciate it. In fact it’s always welcome on my page. Also idk if this was what you were looking for if you wanted more smut shoot me another request and I’ll write a super dirty one ;)

warnings: NSFW

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Ruth and Dale had been living together for about a month now. At first Ruth absolutely hated him. She couldn’t even stand to look at him. He was a bad man who made her become a bad woman. Slowly though a relationship started to form between the two of them. She’d make dinner and leave him a plate at the top of the steps. Then it wasn’t only dinner but breakfast and lunch too. He showed his appreciation through little notes he’d leave with the dirty plate. Always in some weird code but she knew it was his way of saying thanks. Raising Lee wasn’t always easy and sometimes she needed someone to talk to. That’s when her visits downstairs started. At first she made some excuse like she was looking for something she might have left down there. But she’d linger, watching him make dolls or clean up some mess he made. Dale is such an awkward man he’d just breathe loudly and nod his head maybe breathing out a “thanks” now and then. One late night she couldn’t sleep and neither could he. He doesn’t usually sleep much but he just couldn’t focus on anything either. Not her first thought but she decided to go downstairs to see him. He was in his pajamas, she was in her nightgown and robe. It was silent between them for a moment. They just watched each other, neither of them making the first move. But then she did. He was lying down on his mattress, back against the cold hard wall, legs straight out. Even a book tossed to the side, he must not have been very into whatever he was reading. Ruth made her way to the mattress. He was still, his breathing loud and heavy. She hovered over him before straddling her legs over his hips. Dale’s breath gets caught in his throat but he doesn’t stop her. She can feel him getting hard. Slowly, she unties his pants, watching his face for a hint of uncertainty. She doesn’t find any. His eyes are half open and his breathing is fast and loud. Pulling his pants down, revealing his hard cock. It was bigger than she was expecting, letting out a small gasp. Dale chuckles slightly. Pre cum was leaking everywhere. Ruth sits up on her knees pulling her underwear to the side then slowly letting him fill her up. She whines because it stretches her out so much. He whimpers and hold onto her hips. Dale doesn’t help at all just simply lets his hands rest on her hips. Ruth slowly sits herself all the way down, moaning as she bottoms out. Dales a whimpering, whining mess. Bucking his hip upward trying to get her to move. So she gives him what he wants. Slowly rising herself up then crashing back down. That almost makes Dale cum, just that little act. Ruth picks up her pace, moving up and down finding a rhythm that makes both of them happy. Dales fingers dig into her hips, she lets out a small yelp. He whines at the sound she made. Slowly turning into a mumbling, whining mess he tries to hold out longer. But he can’t, cumming deep inside her. She holds onto his shoulders as she does the same. For a moment they sit in silence, Dales breathing being the only thing they hear. Ruth gets up and leaves. Not a word being shared between the two.

[missqhughes]

5 on the smut prompt list with trev pls pls

first trev request, makes me giddy seeing this and jamie ones in the queue 🤭 enjoy!

-

you were a bit, preoccupied before trevor got home.

he was supposed to be gone for a while, and you were nose deep in a steamy romance novel. trevor always commented on how ridiculous they are, but you always brushed him off.

your eyes trailed the lines of the book, core aching just reading the filth in front of you. how good the main characters were pleasuring each other, making your mind wander, replacing the words on the page to an image of you and your boyfriend.

you pursed your lips, contemplating whether you should or shouldn’t. you decided fuck it, you didn’t feel like waiting for trevor to come back to pleasure you, so why not do it on your own?

you slid down your flowy shorts and panties, a trail of slick from your core connecting them. you closed your eyes, letting your hands wander down between your plush thighs, circling your puffy clit.

letting out a light sigh, your fingers moved down, plunging into your leaking hole. thoughts vivid, thoughts of how good trevor made you feel, trying to get your fingers to curl the way his did, chasing his movements, but yours falling behind.

your pace was quickening, small fingers trying to fuck your cunt to climax, whimpers falling from your glossed lips.

you didn’t hear trevor’s keys fiddle the apartment door open, and the soft click of it shutting couldn’t be heard behind the closed walls of your bedroom. he could hear you though, stopping to listen when his ears picked up familiar sounds.

“oh, trev, feels s’good,” you moaned out, pushing your hips into your own hand. trevor quietly walked closer to the door, straining against his pants when he heard how you moaned his name, even when you’re alone.

he couldn’t take it, he needed to have you, even if it was a little wrong to barge in. he opened the door with a slight creak, enough for your eyes to snap open and your legs closed.

you grabbed the comforter, pulling it over your naked lower half, “jesus trevor! maybe a knock first?” you voice slightly elevated, matching the rhythm of your heart.

he only laughed at your remark, a grin painting his face, “on c’mon, it’s nothing i haven’t seen before. still pretty fuckin’ hot though.”

he was right, it’s not like he had never seen you naked, you were dating after all. nonetheless, you still felt embarrassment of being walked in on touching yourself like a teenage boy.

“still! it’s rude to not knock y’know.” you say, still keeping the covers on you, burning desire haven’t not left your cunt.

you and trevor stare at each other for a moment, his eyes flickering over you, walking to the empty chair in your bedroom. his eyes don’t break from yours, undoing the zipper of his pants.

“what are you doing trev-” you start, tightly closing your legs under the comforter, before he cut you off,

“-what? can’t touch myself too?” he sneers, relieving his straining cock from his boxers, his tip angry and leaking with precum. the veins on his tattooed arm more prominent as he pumped, tongue swiping across his bottom lip.

you watched in complete silence, unable to rip your eyes away from the sight of him jerking off right in front of you, like it was no big deal. your cunt was desperately needy, almost rubbing yourself against the bedsheets.

trevor leaned back with his legs spread slightly further apart, smirk not leaving his face, "are you just going to stare, sweetheart? or are you gonna come take what’s yours?”

you sharply exhale, trying to bring down your tshirt, the fabric barely covering your ass as you made your way to trevor, his eyes dark with lust. you crawl on top of him, hovering his tip over your entrance.

“don’t be shy. come on, take it.” he growled, his hand finding your ass, roughly squeezing as you lowered yourself down onto his length, wetness slipping him in so easily.

you both moaned in delight, his other hand lowering to mimic the one already groping your ass, using them to pound you on his throbbing cock.

“fuck, trevor,” you breathe out, his dick complete in your walls, your hips grinding at the base of his length.

“yeah, fuck yourself on me, baby,” he growled, hissing when your grinding moved his dick back and forth in your tight pussy. his words only enabled you to move faster; sweet, high pitched moans drooling from your lips.

your high was close, a climax only trevor could help you catch. your stomach felt tight, the knots of desire about to release.

like he could read your mind, trevor moved to roughly grab your hips, keeping you in place, thrusting hard into you,

“can feel you getting close, gonna fill you up,” his hips snapping into yours, drips of cum seeping out of you, both your juices flooding your thighs and his. you fell limp into him, a lazy, sweet kiss connecting his soft lips on yours.

“think i’m gonna have to walk in on you more often yeah?” he teases, stealing another peck from you. you roll your eyes, lightly slapping a hand on his chest,

“don’t even think about it”

[once-upon-an-animation]

Some thoughts on Annabeth’s Character Arc

Before I begin, just want to say sorry about not being online much. I’m in a very busy period of my life and haven’t had the mental capacity to address all the responses I’ve gotten on posts and such. Will do that in the future.

That being said, I still enjoy writing, so today, I’m going to write a post sharing my thoughts on Annabeth’s character arc in the original PJO series.

For context, someone posted on Reddit that TTC was their favourite book in the original series because of Annabeth’s absence. The comment resulted in a discussion about why people didn’t like Annabeth’s character. I shared the extremely unpopular opinion that Annabeth’s character peaked in Sea of Monsters for me, and I didn’t really love what was done with her character from TTC onwards. Here’s why:

In general:

• ⁠I feel like her perspective towards Luke lacked a lot of nuance. I’m fine with her not thinking he’s completely evil, but it would have been nice to see her also consider all the harmful things Luke had done before the incident with Silena in TLO. It just felt like her POV was sweeping a lot of those things under the rug even though I know that wasn’t necessarily the intent.

• ⁠The Perachel thing would have been fine if there was an on-page apology. But the fact that there is none and it seemingly took Rachel becoming the Oracle and not being allowed to date Percy for Annabeth to finally stop hating her seems like a missed opportunity to have Annabeth address her pride and the way she acts towards others.

• ⁠On that same note, I have mixed feelings about Annabeth’s overall character arc in PJO. While I feel like her relationships with other characters in the story changed over time, I don’t always feel like she truly changed as a person. I mean, she ended up being right about Luke in the end, so it’s not like she had any major motivation to shift her perspective of the world, change her way of thinking, or work on her personality flaws. Given that her fatal flaw is hubris, I would have loved to see a character arc where her pride gets her in deep trouble and she has to confront it head-on by actively learning humility in different ways. She did that well in the first two books, which is why she peaked for me as a character in SoM, but it feels like TTC lost the rhythm and never picked it back up. I would have liked to see her acknowledge being wrong about the way she treated Rachel, and walking away from the war with a different perspective on Luke other than just “I was right all along”. It would have also been nice to see more people actually call Annabeth out on her BS. Someone other than Percy should have said something to her about her behavior. I feel like Chiron could have done it in a “loving dad who wants the best for you” kind of way. Thalia could have also done it.

Or maybe Annabeth gets a visit from Athena after BoTL, where they talk about the quest, the battle, and the stuff on Daedalus’ laptop, but Athena also expresses disappointment in Annabeth for acting petty and not recognizing Rachel as a useful addition to the quest. Maybe Athena reiterates that she doesn’t approve of Percabeth’s friendship, especially because it seems like Annabeth is letting her feelings cloud her judgement. Annabeth’s arc could have been about learning what true wisdom is. Wisdom and knowledge aren’t the same thing, and wisdom is so much more than just knowing facts and battle plans. Wisdom is about maturity, exercising well-informed judgement, and recognizing the truth about things, including yourself. Humility is a huge aspect of gaining wisdom and I think it could have been a great arc for Annabeth, given her fatal flaw. Her overall arc in HoO could have been a continuation of this, especially with what happens in BoO with Piper in that temple.

• ⁠I don’t really like the way her arc with her dad was resolved. The way the story is written in TTC, it seems to imply that Annabeth was to blame for assuming the worst of her dad/stepmom (which I know was probably not the intent, but it has that vibe). I think there was a better way to acknowledge that Annabeth’s parents do in fact care about her, but didn’t do the best job of showing it when she really needed it and made her feel like she needed to run away.

• ⁠There are tiny things that Rick adds into the way he writes Annabeth that make Annabeth seem kind of inconsiderate, like all the little moments of aggression , the fact that she keeps teasing Percy about Rachel even after everyone else has moved on, or in Crown of Ptolemy where Percy said that he “has a healthy fear of Annabeth because she’s kicked his butt plenty of times” and doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to disagree with her. I know it’s mostly supposed to be amusing, but it’s a little uncomfortable to read at times. It sucks because Annabeth is obviously supposed to be a kind person and in many ways, she is, but these moments don’t always make her look nice.

Whew. Sorry that this was long.

I chalk much of my complaints with Annabeth up to not having much of her POV in the original series. Then again, even if Rick decides to delve deeper into Annabeth’s story in the Disney series, I feel like he’s just generally not that great at writing female characters, so I don’t know how much he’ll be able to improve this. In addition, it feels like Rick has generally been losing sight of his characters and they feel less and less like themselves with every addition to his franchise. I’m genuinely nervous for Chalice of the Gods because I don’t know what he’s going to do with Annabeth’s character and I don’t know how much I trust him, lol.

[atiny-for-life]

I apologize if you’ve answered this before, but is there a reason why the Kingdom performances are not included in the Ateez lore masterlist? Thank you!

No one's ever asked before, actually! I'm happy to explain:

There are multiple things making me hesitant about this right now. For one, I wouldn't expect them to assume all Atinys will watch these performances and look to them for lore clues since most only go by official MVs and the albums.

To me, these performances have always had the energy of getting people hyped and excited about their lore themes of revolution, pro expression, anti oppression and their team was likely working on putting together The World series at the time so it made sense to trial run some of their ideas here.

I actually tried to fit these performances in before but I could never find a place where it'd make 100% sense - they seem to be a blend of real lore and stuff just meant for Kingdom.

To start with: in "The Awakening of Summer" (the Rhythm Ta performance), Hongjoong breaks the Cromer out of a glass case at the end. Based on that, timeline wise, this would've had to happen in the Z-World before Ateez ever got there because the only time they lost the Cromer after was when Yeosang smashed it and the recovery of that was in the A-World and we know how that went down (Museum heist gone wrong) and it was nothing like this.

However, with it happening before Ateez's arrival, I wouldn't expect to see them distributing flyers (with the anarchy logo from Guerrilla) and for Hongjoong to hold a speech at a podium because something of that scale didn't really happen before they hijacked the Strictland transmission system in Guerrilla.

From everything we know, the Black Pirates were only doing street performances before their movement picked up speed after Ateez got there. They didn't have the manpower and means to pull off large scale heists prior to that; they were operating out of an abandoned warehouse and they didn't really start getting allies until Left Eye set up the Black Link where people could reach out after waking up.

And on top of that, it was A-World Yeosang's tech know-how that got them spy gear and everything so I kinda don't see them breaking into a Strictland government facility full of armed guards in their early days.

But, if I did have to fit it in somehow, I'd put it pre-Ateez's arrival as the event in which the Black Pirates first got hold of the Cromer:

The Awakening of Summer

They caught wind of the government having found the Cromer and heard it has unique abilities like teleportation, entering the dreamscape - powers that could help them free their world

So they get all the guns they can find, hop into their bulletproof van (like in Guerrilla) and take off

They shoot down the guards stationed at the facility but then also somehow manage to bring them back to life with the magical masks they own (?) or maybe they used rubber bullets or stun guns or something

Regardless, the masks presumably contain breaker technology (somehow) which separates the guards' microchip link connection which means they can now feel and think freely

However, Ateez aren't dumb so they keep the guards tied up for now so thy can't run off and rat them out

While some of them are looking for the Cromer, San straps a bomb to a security guard's chest and ties him to his desk chair (pretty extreme - that's some Halazia universe Matz shit)

During the heist, Yunho and Wooyoung find their Wanted Posters and a bunch of newspapers

The front page headline of the newspaper reads: "The Central Government defined The Black Pirates as a terrorist"

San then goes off on his own and climbs up a rope to an emergency button which opens the massive double doors to a high security section of the building (the one with the Cromer)

This allows the rest of Ateez to waltz right in and Hongjoong immediately goes off to the section with the confiscated art

Which should normally be stored in the Android Guardian bunker, the converted museum on Guardian Island, but I guess they must've used another type of building before - maybe they changed it after the Black Pirates broke into this place (I digress)

Either way, the former guards are now freely raiding the place, making me assume they've switched sides after discovering what art is and that the government's intentionally been withholding it from all of them

While Hongjoong's raiding the place with the guards they captured in the beginning, Wooyoung, Jongho, and Yeosang are handling the guards stationed in this section

During the following dance break, Hongjoong's walk off right before something interferes with everyone's ear pieces (I assume they were using them to communicate while they were separated)

Immediately after, Hongjoong begins his speech, indicating he hijacked all frequencies, including the one they'd been using, so he could broadcast this to the entire city:

"People, open your eyes! For our lives! Keep your mind! Now is the time for freedom, if we try! Listen, look, write! Open your eyes!"

(Note the slogan "Hearts Awakened" on the podium and the small-scale version of the blimp we saw in Guerrilla above Hongjoong - these, plus the van, are part of the reason why I think this was a test run for The World series and the Guerrilla mv in particular)

After the speech, they walk off and Jongho throws up a handful of flyers (which, again, look exactly like the ones from Guerrilla)

During Jongho's high note, Hongjoong walks off again and we next see him putting on the Black Pirates' getup (signature fedora) and break the glass case in which the Cromer is kept

(The clothes are likely just to ensure we as the audience know this isn't A-World's Ateez but the Black Pirates)

Cromer in hand, he smiles and walks off. Mission complete. The performance ends.

Ode to Joy

Now, regarding Ode to Joy, this one feels like it's more so meant to connect some dots between the former two series and the (then) upcoming one.

To start with, they filled in the small gap between the Fever and Treasure series by exploring how they, Ateez and the Black Pirates, managed to break out Yeosang after he was captured by the Android Guardians at the end of Deja Vu/the Fever Pt. 3 Diary Entries since the only canon thing we know about this event is from Say My Name and this one section from the Fever Epilogue Diary Entries:

"Somebody please get me out of here! Please!" The light that I hadn't seen for ages slid in when the door opened. Men in black fedoras were fighting with Android Guardians behind the opened door. "Hey, Yeosang." I heard a warm voice calling my name. A guy came near my glass room and pulled down his black mask. Tears of relief burst out of my eyes. It was Seonghwa.

We open on Yeosang in the glass prison during the Full Moon (meaning reality jumping is possible with the Cromer right now so Ateez can switch over from A to Z World)

One of the Android Guardians walks in and the camera moves to the moon where we get to see the Cromer in action (sand disappearing from the bottom, indicating it's flowing up like we saw in the Diary Film)

Seonghwa, holding the Cromer, then appears in Yeosang's cell (small deviation from Yeosang's diary entry but I'll take it)

Yeosang and Seonghwa then, together, turn the Cromer again, causing Yunho to appear who immediately starts fighting the Android Guardian

After distracting the Guardian for long enough, Yunho pushes him away and runs off, leaving the Guardian to turn around and realize the cell is empty - Yeosang escaped

Following this, we move right on to Answer and that one iconic meeting where Ateez and the Black Pirates got together and formally established an alliance - they're even on the same sides

We then see Hongjoong walking along during his verse while, behind him, people in different get ups are throwing each other guns, etc., indicating the spread of the movement we later read about in the Movement Diary Version: The Revolution

And then we get to the part where I first went "eh?" which made me realize I can't see this performance being fully canon:

San, during his verse, tries to run off but Wooyoung grabs him, clutching him by the jacket, to stop him from leaving

But it doesn't work - San's made up his mind

He holds eye contact, yes, indicating they would've exchanged words if this weren't a song (likely something along the lines of "Stop, don't do this, it's suicide!" and "I have to, I'm sorry.") before he removes Wooyoung's hand from his jacket and runs off-

- and literally hurls himself at an Android Guardian - presumably sacrificing himself by knocking them both off this ledge for the sake of protecting the others

Then we've got Jongho fighting an Android Guardian while Hongjoong is blindfolded and gets captured by four more

Jongho wins his fight (potentially) and makes his way to the grand staircase where he receives a crown on the way up, only to hold it out and toss it aside once he makes it to the top

However, I'm quite certain this isn't related to the lore at all but rather the concept of the show which wants all groups to compete for the crown and see each other as opponents

Ateez refused to align with this idea - they wanted to make their time on the show about friendship and collaboration, having fun, which is very obvious when you watch their performance of The Real

But to really drive this point home: the song "An die Freude" ("To: Joy" as in it's addressed to Joy), which is being sung here by a guest performer, is actually a famous Germany poem by Friedrich Schiller, and an ode all about an idealistic society in which everyone is connected through joy and friendship

While this is being sung, Ateez, the Black Pirates, and the Android Guardians are all dancing together - a truly idealistic and unrealistic outcome far removed from reality but one that wouldn't have required the loss of life we just saw with San throwing himself off a ledge and Hongjoong getting surrounded and captured

The implication is clear: in a world where everyone treats each other kindly, a world without oppression, peaceful coexistence is 100% possible

But in a world of injustice, of oppression, the loss of life, the deaths of some of the kindest people, are inevitable because the ones who are oppressed will always rise up to free themselves of their shackles, even when they know some of them will have to die to make it happen

In conclusion: I think the performances do hold lore beats but they're not fully canon and the lore gaps they fill in are small enough that I always thought it was easier to toss them entirely than to potentially confuse anyone by telling them to disregard some aspects and embrace others. I hope this helps!

[sandy-the-glader]

maybe a george x grumpy! reader who never really smiles or shows emotion and George kinds makes it his secret mission to do that

Come on I see that smile!

Character: George Karim x Fem!Reader

Type: fluff

Length: 1.7K Words

Summary: Ever since you got to Portland row all it has been is neutral faces, anger and frowns. But George seems to be curious about what your smile looks like… for research purposes of course!

Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine (sorta)

A/n: Sorry if this is bad I've been trying to get back into writing btw maybe a tad bit of ooc George? Anyways this is a mix of second and first-person. Lmao lastly the format and like the 4 and 1 idea came from this fic so go check it out!

4 tries and 1 unintentional victory

Baked goods

Large raindrops pattered against the kitchen window of 35 Portland Row, creating a relaxing rhythm. I sprawled out articles and other various newspapers across the table. There wasn't much information on this house, no visitors had been reported before this caller. No murder cases from that house or interesting behaviors. I jotted down as many notes as I could on a surprisingly clean part of the thinking cloth.

A loud knock echoed through the house. I was too sucked into finding information and suspicious parts about this house to answer the door. Thankfully, I heard someone (most likely George) quickly dash to the door and handled with whatever it was. I assumed it was Arif since it was a quick interaction and the scent was so strong I could already smell it. Damn it smelled good.

George's quick footsteps dashed down to the kitchen, quickly landing the box on an available part of the table. I quickly drew my eyes back to the pages scanning for something remotely helpful. The worst case was going in cold.

"How's the case going?" George came to look at the papers and my progress. His fingers traced my handwriting.

"Not good. There is not a single thing tied to this house. And she said I have to be there in a week." I said with a dry expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George rock back and forth on his heels before he spoke again.

"Well um, I got you extra of your favorite this week." I looked up at him. "If you need to take a break they are there." He offered.

"Thank you I appreciate that." George looked somewhat upset with my reaction. Why? I'm not exactly sure

"Yeah.." He grabbed a chocolate donut from the box and sighed on the way out of the room. I hope he’s okay.

Did I do something wrong?

"Is that a donut??" I heard Lucy call out from the stairs. "I didn't even know we had those!" maybe a break wouldn’t hurt…

2. Stress Cleaning

Sure this was more for George than it was for you but he hoped to kill 2 birds with one stone. He had spent the whole evening cleaning the house. Kitchen, library you name it. He left the bedrooms for last.

He knocked softly on your door and waited for a reply before going up the stairs. There wasn't much to clean in your's and Lucy's shared area besides maybe the windows and a few pieces of clothing needed to be picked up off the ground.

You were reading a book on your bed instead of trying to find more information on that house. You needed a break and your mind was just tired from searching article upon article. You had 3 more days and thought to hell with it I'll just do my best.

"What's up, George?" You peered over your book and at the boy. "Oh." From seeing his apron and blue gloves you already knew he meant cleaning. "You know you don't always have to clean up after us." He shook his head.

"You know cleaning is one of my favorite things right?" He cleaned every single day. Not even kidding. You can't remember the last time you've seen the house jaw-droppingly dirty. Because it never has been. For the many months you’ve been here George has done a fantastic job with keeping the house organized.

"That is true. I do feel bad sometimes." You hummed. "Well thank you." George quirked a small smile but you just nodded in acknowledgment.

Well, it was worth a try. He sighed quietly.

3. Favorite food

He knew as soon as you stepped through the door and slammed it shut, he had made a good decision. Another thing on George's list of "Y/n's smiles" was dinner. Sure food didn't work as well last time this was different.

He heard you curse at something and then throw your rapier into its spot by the door. You took in a deep breath through your nose trying to contain your anger from the trip and not make a lot of noise considering the time but you smelt something. Something so heavenly that's all you needed right now. Food.

You quickly went down the stairs and saw George in his apron Moving around the kitchen.

"Smells great Georgie. It's 3 am you didn't have to." She frowned feeling a bit bad for keeping him up.

"It's really no problem at all." He loved cooking so really it was just fun. "Looks like you had a fun night." She rolled her eyes and groaned. He leaned against a cabinet and glanced at you up and down. Your hair was very messy, traces of ectoplasm was all over your shoes and the bottom of your pants, and you were just really wanting food and a shower.

"Sarcasm. Not now I beg of you. But really the food smells fantastic." A sneaky smile formed on George's lips, not yours though you were far too tired to even think about it.

"Alright. Food's ready anyway." He brought two servings of the food over to the table placing one in front of you and the other across from you. "Do you want to talk about it?" He offered sitting down in front of his food.

"It was awful! The source was in a completely different part of the house than she thought and it was just disastrous!" You complained. He sat there and listened to your troubles like you always did with him.

You finally had a bite of the food and you felt at ease.

“George Casper Karim why can you cook so well?” He smiled downward. You didn’t smile you just had this tired yet calm look on your face.

“I have more talent than just touch.” He joked. She was right though the food did taste amazing.

“Yes you do.” George wasn’t entirely mad at the fact you didn’t smile but he did enjoy the compliment.

4. A New Sweater

George scanned the shelves of your favorite store looking for something you would like. There were plenty of things your style but what caught his eye was a sweater.

Your closet was full of them. Lucy too and so a sweater could be another candidate for his "Y/n's smiles" list.

It wasn’t too thick nor too light because he knew you were sorta picky when it comes to sweaters. And a bonus was it was one of your favorite colours.

He held it in his hands but, he double and even triple-checked the store for something you might like better. But he did not and he went and brought it up to the counter to pay.

The cashier was nice but she had mistaken George as your boyfriend which made him blush furiously and confirm the two of you were just close friends. The cashier didn’t buy it. She gave him a small disbelieving look and he tried to ignore it.

He was impressed by how well she wrapped up the sweater and put it in a really nice bag.

When he came back the house was insanely quiet, mainly because Lockwood was out of the house and Lucy was training in the basement. You had decided to have a lazy day you were mainly just in your bed or in front of your desk.

But he noticed you were making tea in the kitchen so he quietly ran upstairs to put your gift on your bed. And then he snuck back down to his room to wait for your return.

You held a cup in your hand and carefully walked upstairs. You were confused when finding a gift on your bed mainly because no one really gave you gifts out of the blue. A small gasp escaped your lips when you reached into the bag and pulled out a sweater. You held the sweater close. It was the right size it was quite a shocker

You didn't think Lucy even knew your size.

"Surprise." George came back up the stairs. You went and hugged him. He was slightly taken aback by the gesture. He wasn't exactly a hugger but he wrapped his arm around you and squeezed gently.

"Thank you, George. You do so much for me." Again he wasn't exactly angry that it had failed because he's never had a hug that felt this relaxing. He was feeling loved. "Anything." He said simply. You pulled back and ruffled his hair.

"You're too good for me."

George returned to his room and took a pen and struck off another idea on a sticky note above his desk. But he did put a small heart next to it.

5. Quality Time.

"Wanna go the archives with me? Lucy and Lockwood already said no but they were caught up in their own thing." George huffed. You sat up immediately and shoved a bookmark into your book. You cracked a half smile.

"I would love to." You sprung up and grabbed your bag and shoes. "They never want to go with me either." Still, a small smile plastered on your face.

George was shocked in the 3 months he knew you that's all it took? Just going to the archives? He would have groaned if he wasn't so happy for finally making you smile. The look was so unfamiliar on you but he definitely knew he wanted to see it more.

"I don't know why I never asked you." You chuckled softly. That was a complete lie. You didn't want to admit it or make it obvious that you have a raging crush on the other boy while being alone and so very close to him doing what you loved most.

George didn't even think about your comment. A chuckle? George's expectations were exceeded. He thought you would shrug it off and either go and keep to yourself or kindly decline.

"Come on Georgie!" You practically skipped out of the room, brushing past his shoulder and sending a jolt through his body. His heart swelled and he was honestly quite boastful at the moment. If he could shout it at the world he would. He felt like he deserved something for making Y/n L/n smile. But seeing your smile was an award in itself.

George followed her out of the house and down to explore the archives.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/7/2024

i have Got to read a book i enjoy this week or my brain will turn into something the consistency of dried tomato paste on a kitchen counter

also i have lost track of the timing and rhythm of the seasons so for the first time in a very long time there is no may starred war tuesdaypost

listening

Chapstick by COIN off my weekly recommended spotify playlist. i don’t think this song is particularly interesting or well-executed as a whole, but the lyrics

She’s a friend of mine, and an alibi

And the getaway car in overdrive, like

Hey sharpshooter, I like the way you’re moving

i think the use case for this song is a telecom company trying to get you to switch by promising some portable Bluetooth speakers for your summer parties and this is playing diagetically as we slip in and out of various summer parties, following one TV-hot woman in a sundress

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reading

i am once again not sleeping well and have shoved a lot of mediocre books into my gaping maw. i have read a good fuckin chuck of the jason todd outlaws runs. i like jason todd/the red hood bc i feel a certain kinship with someone trained for an incredibly specific thing who are then thrown away the second they stop conforming. darth maul also but that’s a different post.

i have several bones to pick with writer scott lobdell. i know this was the early teens but can we chill with the misogyny for a singular page. why themes of addiction only when it is needed to fill a narrative lull? and why are you continually going to put jason in interesting situations where he might confront his trauma or grow despite his trauma and then. not have him confront his trauma or grow at all because of it??? i like snatches of the early issues of the run, when the outlaws are figuring out how to be a polycule team on the most beautiful deserted island and crashed spaceship you’ve ever seen. i liked the art in most issues and these had just enough fun flashes of character (about every other issue) to keep me reading. but im annoyed by it.

i finally finished Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone, the first physical paper book i have finished in a long time. the flaw of being the first in the english detective fiction genre is that everyone who comes after has a lot of time to perfect it. i felt the actual perpetrator was a little beyond belief and the ending was fumbled. however it was very good at sustaining my interest for like 400 pages. not my picture bc i cannot be bothered to find my copy and bother a cat, but this is the penguin edition i own. i don’t actually know if i will keep it on my shelves but maybe it’s more of a trophy of me getting back into reading physical books?

Alexis Hall’s Mortal Follies also annoyed me. i do not think this author’s strong suit is in longer books. i have read previous books in two hours and change and while i found the ending here satisfying from a fairytale perspective, i did not enjoy the path we took to get there. i thought we were ending and wrapping things up at least three times, and the number of Things that happen in order to carry us on to the next Thing does not feel gleefully madcap but sort of frantically shambling. a very classic three-days time limit is introduced in the middle, it is met, and then we continue on for several months. also the author introduces the concept of shipping your friends with an equally made-up word as shipping through one of the more tiresome characters in the novel and this…cracking? chip? in the fourth wall? fucking annoyed me. it felt very out of tone with the rest of the book. surely there was a better way for this character to express that she wanted the two leads to be together

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watching

Hammerhead (1968, dir. Miller). this is leaving tubi soon and sometimes the heart needs a silly little James Bond ripoff. had high hopes for this one bc it was rated R and the baddie was obsessed with collecting vintage erotica. i don’t really know why this is rated R. the erotica we see is almost all prints of Fine Art Nudes. there’s a lot of cleavage and undergarments and bikinis but not like. full frontal at any point. no man has their chest out except for an enterprising motorcyclist near the end.

anyway this is a deeply unserious film, as you may surmise. it’s not much fun, especially when it’s not very good at getting everyone to the next scene. Vince Edwards is kind of a cold fish, i do not know why every woman is throwing herself at him. Judy Geeson makes every scene she’s in better (there’s a very funny scene in a post office where they play both keepaway and the thimble game with an important package) but she cannot hold the whole dragging movie up by herself. god they made leading ladies fucking tiny back then. very throwable

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playing

not fallow but i don’t have anything interesting to say about genshin this week. a friend started playing fnv after several months of subtle hints, i was only able to join his streams after twenty hours in and promptly let him know the inventory is sortable if you click at the top. how had he been going through his whole fucking inventory for twenty hours like that. a man singularly obsessed with both inventory management and min-maxing caps. he had like 8k caps by the time he got to Novac, taking the normal route. people sure can play games in different ways huh

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making

put some dijon mustard and some broccoli in some macaroni and cheese. that's about it