#but they will always stand in opposition to each other

[alotofpockets]

Running to you | Steph Catley x Reader

Where long time best friends are both oblivious to each other's feelings

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.8K

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You met Steph on your first day of kindergarten. The two of you were instant best friends, despite being opposites. Steph was an outgoing kid, who loved playing every sport out there. While you were always found in a quiet corner with a book in your hands.

It didn't take long before you were a part of the Catley family, and Steph was a part of yours. The two of you were inseparable. When Steph was at football practice, you were somewhere near with a book. When you were sitting on a park bench with your latest favourite book, Steph was kicking around a ball near you.

When Steph played her first match after joining a football team, you were sitting in the stands, leaned against her father while flipping through the pages. Of course, when the whistle blew, your full attention went to your best friend on the field. 

After her first win she ran up to you and engulfed you in a hug. “You were awesome, Sunny.” A nickname you had given her after hearing your mom say that Steph reminded you of sunshine.

The same tradition stuck around after that initial match. It didn't matter what the final score was, she always came running to you, and you always welcomed her with open arms.

Your love for the sport grew while watching Steph play. While you didn’t have any interest in playing the sports, you got pulled into it in a different way. Your passion for writing grew over the years, and it didn’t take long to figure out that you wanted to be a sports journalist when you grew up.

In high school you had started writing about Steph’s matches purely as a hobby, but as soon as you got to college, you joined the school’s newspaper and became their sports journalist. Sport connected you with Steph on a deeper level. Whether you were at one of her games, or you were watching a different sport with her, the two of you always shared it and the love for it.

Throughout high school and college the same tradition continued, Steph running to you at the end of a match had been a constant through all these years, but that was soon to change as both of you had big opportunities coming up after college.

Steph signed a contract with a club in America and would play in the NWSL, while you found a job in London covering the WSL. It was hard at first, because you had always been by each other’s side, but you made it work. Texting, voice notes, and video calls became your new normal. Steph had found a new way of running to you after a match in texting you as soon as the match was over. Your phone was always filled with a recap of the match from her perspective. 

Then one day, everything changed again. “Sunny, it’s 4am. Did you forget we live in different time zones?” You groaned when you picked up the phone. “I’m moving to London.” The statement alone was enough for you to be wide awake. “Go on.” 

She told you about the offer she had gotten from Arsenal and that she would make the move in just three months. It had been two years of long distance friendship, and you could not wait to have her close again.

“I guess you’re stuck with me now, y/n/n.” She teased over the phone. You rolled your eyes at her, but were unable to wipe the smile off your face, “Like I ever minded.” 

Moving in together was a no-brainer. You had dreamed of it ever since you were little kids, and you were finally able to live that dream. 

The first time Steph stepped onto the pitch in an Arsenal jersey, you were on the sidelines covering the match. You did the pre- and post match interviews, as well as reporting on the match itself, as writing was still your part of it all.

When the final whistle blew, you stepped onto the pitch to get ready for the post match interviews. It wasn’t long until a pair of familiar arms found their way around your waist. 

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your team?” You teased, but without any hint of wanting her to let go. She let her head rest on your shoulder as she read over the notes you had made for your interview. “I missed celebrating with you.”

The words made a heat rise to your cheeks. “Interview time, Sunny. Shoo, I gotta be professional now.” You pushed her off lightly, not used to this feeling around your best friend. As Steph walked off, you followed her with your eyes, had you always felt this way for Steph?

“You and the interview lady seem pretty close.” Katie said while wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Before Steph could answer, Caitlin walked up. “Was that Y/n?” Steph nodded proudly. 

“Okay, someone fill me in. Who’s Y/n?” Katie asked the two Aussies. “She’s my best friend from home.” You said which made Caitlin chuckle. “Still haven’t admitted that you like her, I see.” Steph’s cheeks turned a bright red, as she playfully shoved Caitlin away.

This raised even more interest for the Irish woman. “Oh, please tell me more.” A smirk grew on Caitlin’s face. “If you ever lose Steph after a match, it’s because she ran off to find Y/n. They’ve been doing that ever since the Matildas Youth team.”

“Actually we’ve been doing that since we were like five.” Steph added. “That is adorable. I am with Cait on this one, you two together would be so cute!”

The teasing from her teammates had started that day. It started with just Caitlin and Katie, but soon the whole team caught on to Steph and the girl she always ran to after their matches. 

Steph ignored the teasing and continued to live her life the way she always had. In other words, in love with her best friend, but not sharing her feelings with her best friend. You on the other hand did the exact same.

Months passed, and you settled into the new rhythm. The change of living in the same time zone was something you quickly got used to again, and took as much advantage of as you could. The two of you lived together in your cosy London apartment, sharing everything except for your feelings.

You thought about confessing your feelings many times. Especially when it was just the two of you on a quiet night, curled up on the couch. It was the most natural thing for the two of you to be cuddled up to each other. Each time you thought you would confess, you hesitated. What if your friendship didn’t feel the same any more after?

On the morning of a big match for Arsenal, Steph was pacing in your shared living room. “Are you okay, Sunny?” You asked when your eyes fell on her. “I can’t keep pretending anymore.” She started and went quiet again.

You were about to ask what she meant, but then she continued. “I love you, y/n/n. I have loved you for as long as I can remember, and I can’t keep my feelings to myself any longer.” 

You stood in front of her with widened eyes, shocked at her sudden confession. A smile crept onto your face as you started processing her words. “I love you too, Sunny. I always have.”

There was a moment of silence where the two of you were just looking at each other and taking in what you had just shared, before Steph stepped forwards and cupped your face, her thumb gently brushing your cheek as she leaned in. 

The feeling of her lips on yours was better than you had ever imagined. You got lost in the kiss, until you were rudely interrupted by your alarm sounding across the room. “To be continued.” You say with another peck to her lips, before you rush off to silence your phone. 

When you came back Steph was still standing in the place where you had left her. “Sunny?” You asked carefully. Her head turned your way and a smile spread across her face. “Yeah?” With a light chuckle you shook your head, “Just checking if you were still working.”

“Hmm, maybe you should kiss me again to make sure that I am.” You stepped closer to her, “Gladly.” You reconnect your lips, something you could definitely get used to. “I wish we could keep doing this, Sunny, but we’ve got an important match to go to.” 

You were both reluctant to go out of the home after your shared confessions, but you both had a job to do. Before you each went to your own cars, Steph pulled you in for another kiss. “Show them what you’ve got, Sunny.” Were your last words before you drove off.

During the match you had to keep reminding yourself that you had to write about the whole match and not just Steph, the person where your mind kept going. While in your pieces you were unbiased, in real life you fully stood behind Steph and whatever team she was playing for. So, when the final whistle blew and Arsenal had won the match, you cheered inside.

You quickly gathered your notes and made your way onto the pitch. Excitedly waiting for Steph to come running to you after she had celebrated with her team. You spoke with your coworkers while you waited for the players to be brought to you for the post match interviews, but excused yourself for a moment when you saw Steph making her way towards you.

She ran into your arms like she had always done. “You did it, Sunny.” You whispered proudly. Steph stepped back a little, but still with her arms around you. She shot you a questioning look, that you answered with a small nod. Her smile grew and she stepped closer again. She kissed you and you both smiled into it. 

“Ahem.” You heard behind you. When you turned to the sound you found Leah and Caitlin staring at you with knowing looks. “Took you long enough.” Caitlin chuckled. You put your arm around Steph’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“Come celebrate with us when you’re done with work?” Steph questioned. “I’d love to.” She quickly pecked your lips again before she let you interview the captain and the player of the match.

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[kiddotarot]

Why you are your future spouse made for each other

Explanation = We only brings our personality ( Ascendant) and 7H according to our past life karma and this is why you and your partner made for each other to balanced the complete you . Check your Ascendant and sign sitting to your 7h . Thank you jay for jay ( astroid) regarding too much help and teaching and learning from his vedios .

Aries = Libra

Aries = person are more related to themselves. " me" is a perfect word to describe them cause this associate with ego , level of growing, what can you do to yourself. If you ask this person to do charities and donations they may be not intrested in this but if you ask them to help in surgeries and body related help they surely going to help for example = Salman khan do a lot of donations for operation and also donate is born marrow for a child. So this thay have opposite sign libra in there chart because you alway think about yourself and focus on only you with your future spouse you going to learn how to work in a partnership and work for others and manage things and resources in a relationship you can fi d ot difficult but it is the basic rule which god decided to teach you .

Libra = you are a person who always focused on relationship and how to satisfy everyone need . You can always find yourself stuck in a web of relationship from your family and friends and society because you think you need to make good relations with everyone . And with libra ascendant you have gain house leo (11H) so you want popularity from there but you need to understand that you are slowly loosing yourself in this that's why you have Aries as a partner which can show you how and what you can do to yourself always doing for others not always give you acceptance. They can show you to take desion for yourself too first look at yourself then others.

Taurus = scorpio

Taurus = you are more focused on external things family, society and recourse and outher validation . You always work for them or always think about them and of by chance your ascendant in afflicted then sure you going yo have problem from speaking for yourself your own people can insult you but you are not able to answer back. You always pit more focus on those things like you want your name mention in a donations if you do charity . That's why you have scorpio in you 7h because sure you future spouse going to teach you to go silent and why you need to be alone and cut out from others. Because god want you to learn internal expension. And these people spouse stand up for them and speak no matter if your family stand against you . If they have strong moon and venus as scorpio ascendant they going to be a obsessive lover. I am sure your sleep cycle is disturbed now for sure but after marriage it going to be improve.

Scorpio = you are a reserved person and sure rigid also . You have a bigger world in your innerself than outer world . Very private person you always cut off from society and peoples it make you feel you are enough alone but that's not it we are humans the social animals we need to do coperative with each other so your 7H Taurus person going to show you how to put efforts in a family after marriage because familys runs from both side and efforts they will sure bring you out of your zone and make you a coperative person . Because your partner know how to deal with enemies and diseases and coperative situation these three things going to add in your life for sure.

Gemini = sagittarius

Gemini = you are immature by subconscious mind like a kid so this is a little baby Mercury house which is not mature enough do your nature is like that . You either take desion very fast or always stay confused in your life even in your career. And your 3H rule by moon regarless its position in chart you always dpeak by your emotions and you less you mind in speaking caure you are pure heart like a child can be emotional speaker. Always take random action. Thats why you have sagittarius in your 7H according to me it is best placement cause your future spouse is really mature and knowledgeable going to tach you a lot of thing and act like a guide throughout the life they are the best person to take advice in life. Your luck can be rise after marriage cause they are supportive towards your desion are correct them . If you have bad 7h still check your partner jupiter it can still give good effect in some cases.

Sagittarius = you are always lucky and ethical and most of the time right in tyiur life but its make you a person who never be so experimental and may be find it difficult to accept chsnges. Its a jupiter ruled sign and no other planets is exalted here so we can say you never listen to others. You can have habit of procrastination in trying new things and experience. That's why you have Gemini in your 7h your partner is going to shake your world . They going to teach you how to be more changable and accept it. They going to teach you who be easy going on life and chill and be curious sure you going to have a hard time for that but they will be bright and open up your world.

Cancer = capricorn

Cancer = you are very emotional person and carying people often take advantage of it. And you may be get ashamed up for showing your emotions and you learn how to keep thing to you only not share them. That's why your house have capricorn 7h your spouse belives in more taking action and karma. They really don't have any filter when it comes to speak of fight for what's right in there eyes. And if Saturn placed goid your spouse can take stand for you always no matter what throughout your life.

Capricorn = you are always rigid and can have not do good experience in your life. Which can make or developed your mind set in a way thst you believe thst if i want something i need to do work hard and neglected your own emotions. You never forgive a person and aldo not forget what they do you believe in punishment that's why you have cancer in your 7H your person going to show you do not be hard on yourself and others . And you can believe in uour emotional side and not to shut it . They make you believe that innocence and purity still exists. You can work for others without selfishness.

Leo = Aquarius

Leo = you are wtical and may be main attraction in your own group . You carries a king qualities and believe in doing justice but on the negative side it can give you too much overconfidence and rudeness you are not ready to surrender in front of someone thsts why you have 7H Aquarius your future spouse going to make you humble and grounded cause Aquarius is mixture of rahu + saturan so its make a eclipse situation to a leo person but don't worry you are blessed by god only ehy this person can control you by his duality and expension. You sometimes you can't understand or can't handle there duality because they are always two step ahead from you.

Aquarius = you are a person who is deciplined but also have a great social contact you are like mass personality which is just expanding. And if your saturan placed bad i am sure you are not ethical. You can have a low immunity system and that's why you always fall sick fast and have some mysterious decease. That's why you have 7H leo your person going to show you how to be more ethical and justice. Because god give solution not punishment so your spouse is solution they ga e great immunity or they can creat a environment that can help you to stay healthy. Like tsking care of you routine and food a lot of good stuuf included a great person.

Virgo = pisces

Virgo = you are always more technical in your life because you always deal with enemies and problems so your mindset is developed yo use a strategy often and may be you get succeed most of the time and jave a thought that i am god or i am enough that's why you have pisces in 7H because your partner is a perso who never think. They will teach you how to get free from your active defence system and urge to controll everything they hsve a very flowing energy which make you to leave yourself in life flow. And everything is not logical something are out of our mind and in god hands.

Pisces = you are a person who believe in spirituality and often judt dream about things . You mostly not use your mind and think its all god wish but god is busy so thats why you have virgo in 7H your partner going to teach you a lot about how to work logical mostly in matters of enemies and life. They going to teach you its ok to make plans and give your hundred percent because as a human atleast we can do what's in our hands.

©️ kiddotarot

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

Just a little reminder: This fantasy of some magical “sisterhood between all women” that is now being threatened by including trans women - that is just that, a fantasy. It’s a made up narrative to paint transphobia as feminism. 

There has never been a world where all women were the same. There have always been (and will always be) women’s issues that not all women relate to.

Even if you exclude trans women from your definition of womanhood: A lesbian woman will still have different experiences than a straight woman. A woman who grew up poor will still have different experiences than a woman who grew up rich. A disabled woman will still have different experiences than an able-bodied woman. A black woman will still have different experiences than a white woman. 

Actually, even apart from any systemic injustices that certain women face and others not: even two women growing up in the exact same circumstances can still go on to have vastly different life experiences - because women are human and have their unique wishes and desires and life goals. Some women choose to undergo IVF, some choose to get their tubes tied, just as one example! 

Obviously I’m not saying “women who are different can’t be friends” or “women who have different life goals can’t stand up for each other”. The opposite of that, actually: Differences between women have always existed… and they haven’t erased womanhood. They haven’t killed feminism. 

The fear-mongering idea of “oh no, they are now adding women to our spaces who are Other and Different!!” doesn’t really make sense (and not only because trans women aren’t some new invention or just spawned into existence in 2024) because there has never been just one kind of woman to be. 

It’s actually not very feminist to say otherwise. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[silverskye13]

Enemy caretaker, but Wels helping Tanguish this time!

Maybe something along the lines of, Wels getting Tanguish to tell him what he sees in Helsknight in exchange for the help, if you’d like a slightly more specific prompt ^^

When it comes to the whole Hermits vs helsmets thing, Welsknight can, nine times out of ten, say with confidence, he's the good guy. The Hermits are all, barring a few hiccups from time to time, objectively good people. Helmets are the opposites of Hermits. Ergo, helsmets are evil. And if he didn't have logic to prove this, he had Helsknight. Helsknight who, as soon as he had the wits to start making his own identity, immediately started orbiting Welsknight like the most destructive, malicious moon might tear up the atmosphere of a nearby planet. He was mean, vindictive, cruel, heartless, brutal, and worst of all, perfect. Perfect form with the sword, with his knightly duties and tenets, hels, even when their fights were more philosophical, he always seemed to have the perfect argument. There was something uniquely insufferable about fighting a perfect enemy. Grinding.

{This wasn't about Helsknight.}

Anyway. Helsmets. Everything their Hermits aren't. And if the Hermits are objectively good, well, it follows they're all pretty evil. And a good person fighting an evil person -- the good person is in the right. That's what good is all about, generally speaking.

So, chasing Tanguish through a strip mine: Objectively Good. He is Fighting Evil. Sure, that evil is terrified of him, and keeps scrambling away like he thinks Welsknight is the devil incarnate, but... Objectively, Welsknight is doing the right thing, the good thing. Fighting evil. Fighting Evil Is Good.

{Subjectively, Welsknight admits to himself, begrudgingly, it doesn't feel good.}

They ran into each other by accident. Welsknight was mining. He wasn't wearing his good armor -- just some old chain beneath his tunic, so nothing would maul him. He'd been digging away mindlessly and broke through a wall into the bottom of someone else's strip mine -- probably Tango's. He came out of the wall right beside a pile of chests, and right beside the little helsmet sneak thief pilfering from those chests.

Welsknight and Tanguish made eye contact. Welsknight drew his sword in the time it took either of them to blink, and swung it. Tanguish dodged. The vertical slash that would have pretty neatly bisected the little helsmet missed by less than a fraction of a hair's breadth. It was so close, in fact, that it cut through the chain chord that fastened his cloak to his shoulders, so when Welsknight lunged forward and grabbed that cloak in his fist, the pins tore free, and Welsknight was left standing with a bundle of cloth while the helsmet escaped down the hall. Welsknight sheathed his sword and sprinted after him.

It was a long, dark, relentless run. They didn't shout at each other. There was no epic chase music playing. There was only the pounding of feet, the wind in their lungs, and the echo of their movements bouncing off the tunnel walls. Tanguish turned a corner, and so did Welsknight. Tanguish leaped down a drop, Welsknight followed. The little creature was nimble and quick, but he had no idea where he was going, and all Wels had to do was follow. They burst out of strip mines into a mine shaft, splintering the depths of some cave somewhere. The sound of feet on stone turned abruptly to the hollow thrum of old, rotting wood. The place was only half-lit, and the glittering red eyes of spiders high in the ceiling glinted with watchful malice. Far below them, amidst the old beams at a bruising drop, the clattering bones of skeletons started pulling themselves together, warned awake by breath and sound.

Tanguish did a snap turn on the wood, a quick dart off a side path -- or what would have been, if his claws hadn't slipped. The caves were humid, and the ground stayed just the barest amount of slick. Momentum caught him in its fist and he tumbled, only saving himself from rolling off the edge by digging in with long claws. Welsknight slowed his sprint, pulling to a stop before he could make the same mistake. He and Tanguish made eye contact again.

{Subjectively, it felt very, very bad when someone stared up at you with blind panic, and, in a snap decision, figured out they would rather drop to their potential doom than be caught by you. Which was exactly what Tanguish did.}

The little helsmet gasped, bright yellow eyes flashing fearfully. He let go of the wood, plummeting off the mine shaft's boardwalk to the hard stone below. It wasn't a killing fall. Welsknight knew that because, when the helsmet hit the ground, he let out a cry of pain. Welsknight stepped up to the edge, paused long enough to make sure he wasn't leaping into a hazard, and then stepped over the side himself. He landed safely, his momentum dampened by the splay of his elytra, and the feather falling enchantment that sparked off his boots when they touched the ground.

Tanguish was curled up on the ground not far from him, hands grasping at his ankle, a painful grimace on his face. When Welsknight landed, Tanguish snapped his gaze to him, breath coming sharp in his chest.

Welsknight swallowed hard, steeled himself, and drew his sword.

For every one of his steps forward, Tanguish scrabbled back away from him. He didn't stand -- maybe his ankle was broken. He kicked away with his good leg, and pulled himself with his claws and elbows until he backed himself against a stalagmite. Welsknight continued forward. He reminded himself to be relentless. He reminded himself to be steadfast. He reminded himself that this would not be the first time he killed a disarmed enemy, someone completely at his mercy. He had done it to Helsknight a few times before, and Hels had done it... several times to him.

{But Helsknight didn't show fear. Helsknight didn't cry out. He growled. He snarled. He spat. He did grandstanding. He spoke quiet, seething oaths. He vowed to do awful things, threatened, and made good on those threats sometimes. Helsknight didn't show fear. He did the thing that monsters did: when he felt pain, he made himself dangerous.}

Tanguish did not make himself dangerous. He didn't make himself monstrous.

Tanguish pressed himself against the stalagmite like he thought, if he leaned hard enough against it, he might fall through it into safety. He didn't watch Welsknight. He watched Welsknight's sword like it was a snake, waiting for that fatal strike, as though, if he could only see it coming, he might be able to better prepare for it. He shook, shivers that gripped him so violently they made even his breaths shudder. He would probably cry, if he weren't too scared at the moment to remember what tears were.

And then, as though all of that weren't bad enough, he begged.

Welsknight closed the final distance between them, heart hardened as much as he was able. He drew up his sword, laying his free hand across the blade to better steady it. He was going to do this right. One swift, well-placed stab, somewhere the little thing wouldn't suffer.

"Please. P-please. Please--" Tanguish hiccuped a terrified breath and stammered with every exhale, over and over, like a prayer. "P-p-p-please."

Welsknight felt something cold wash down his spine. His determined scowl twitched.

{Just be done with it.}

Welsknight drew his sword back an inch more, tilted his shoulders--

"P-please don't," Tanguish gasped louder. Quicker. Words tumbling out of him like a flood. "Please d-don't--! Don't--! Please don't--!"

By the time Welsknight had moved into his lunge, Tanguish was screaming, his voice echoing loud and terrified off every wall in the cave.

"--d-don't kill me! Please don't--! Please--!"

His shriek cut off abruptly against the ringing crash of steel on stone. Tanguish choked, peering at Welsknight wide-eyed through his crossed, shaking arms he'd thrown up to shield himself. He was crying openly, hiccuping gasps that shook his whole body. Very slowly, he glanced to his side, to the gouge in the stone where Welsknight's sword lanced against the stalagmite at the level of his neck. Welsknight could see in the helsmet's eyes the fatal arithmetic of where that sword would have gone if it hadn't twitched to the side.

Tanguish lurched for Welsknight's sword. It was a motion that seemed almost as surprising to Wels as it was for Tanguish. Welsknight managed to draw the blade back before he could grab it. He cursed himself for his moment of weakness, pulled the sword high over his shoulder to bring it down on the treacherous little creature--

"Wait wait wait!!" Tanguish shouted, curling up small, arms over his head protectively. "I'll-ll-l l-leave! M-my ref-flection I'll--" he looked up at Welsknight beseechingly, begging with every inch of his terrified posture. "Y-you d-don't have t-to kill m-me I'll g-go. Please. I d-don't-- I don't-- I d-don't--"

Tanguish hiccuped, and swallowed, and bowed his head. It was by far the most miserable, defeated thing Welsknight had ever seen a person do. Tanguish curled up on the ground, face buried in his arms to save himself the view of the sword, and shaking and crying, he whispered. "I don't want to die."

{There is nothing, objectively, subjectively, abstractly good about killing someone begging desperately for mercy. Even if that someone is Evil. There is nothing good about bringing someone so much terror, they sob at your feet, would rather fall to some terrible end then meet whatever justice you have in store.}

{And, on that note, there is nothing just about relentlessly pursuing and killing someone for... what? Rifling through some chests?}

{Well, it was more than the chests. It was the fact that he was a helsmet. But the chests had kicked this whole thing off and... Well... It just seemed a bit stupid.}

With Tanguish cringing at his feet, Welsknight felt uniquely ridiculous. It was all very dramatic and harrowing, and surreal. Wasn't this thing, effectively, a demon? Wasn't this thing evil? Why then, did he feel like such a monster doing what was supposed to be right? Why wasn't right easier to do?

Somewhere further in the cavern, some mobs groaned. Welsknight was almost relieved to hear it. Zombies and skeletons and creepers were simple, straightforward evils. So simple and straightforward, they were almost benign. They hurt, so he killed them before they could hurt him. They were merciless, because they had no reason not to be. There wasn't enough sentience or thought in them to be any way else. They did not cry or run or beg. They didn't look at him like he was...

... A monster.

Welsknight had lowered his sword at some point. He didn't know when. Probably around the same time Tanguish had buried his face in his arms and stopped begging, resigning to his fate. Welsknight sighed. He suddenly felt very, very tired.

An arrow fired from a skeleton in the dark sailed wide and rattled off some rocks somewhere.

"Can you stand?"

Tanguish flinched at the sound of Welsknight's voice, but didn't answer.

"I said, can you stand?"

Tanguish cracked an eye open and looked up at him hopelessly. He sniffed, and swallowed, and rasped, "N-no." His gaze flicked to his ankle. "It's-- it's broken."

Welsknight sighed and sheathed his sword. The barest flicker of something like hope sparked in Tanguish's eyes. It was a look that nearly guttered out when Welsknight shoved his hand forward. Tanguish flinched away from him again, and then watched his outstretched hand like he feared it would suddenly lunge forward and strangle him.

"Well, come on," Welsknight snapped impatiently. That look, distrustful and scared, angered him. He didn't know why, other than it galled him to know someone thought he was more likely to harm than to help.

Hesitantly, Tanguish reached out and took Welsknight's hand.

Welsknight forced himself to be gentle, to not rip the infuriating helsmet to his feet. He pretended he was a squire again, and there was a knight over his shoulder telling him gentle when you take a lady's hand for a bow, you don't want to hurt her. Tanguish was not a fair lady at court {quite the opposite, in fact}, but he had the fragility of someone whose wrist might break if Welsknight squeezed too hard by accident. He tried not to be too bitter knowing he'd inspired that, made the helsmet breakable with terror.

Tanguish had to lean on him heavily to stand. He refused to look at Welsknight, an expression of misery etched into every line of his face, a wounded animal forced to take shelter by a starving wolf.

Welsknight decided abruptly that he'd never felt so guilty in his life.

{This is ridiculous. He's an enemy. He's evil. He should be scared of you.}

Welsknight stamped down the little voice in his head. He reached down and scooped up the helsmet's legs. Tanguish screwed his eyes shut and hugged himself, an action that made Welsknight scared he'd drop him. His elytra flared out behind him, splaying into a shape like eagle's wings. Welsknight leaped into the air, hovered briefly, long enough to figure out where he needed to go, and swooped off down into a nearby tunnel.

It was cramped. The wind whistled by his ears, and his wing-tips brushed the walls and floor when he flexed them. It was an act of immense concentration not to lose his balance and send them both hurtling into a wall. Yet somehow, he still managed to be disconcerted by the fact that Tanguish barely clung to him. He had one hand pressed against Welsknight's chest, almost restraining more than it held, like he anticipated needing to pitch himself from Welsknight's arms at any given moment. The other hand had found Welsknight's chainmail where it peaked out from beneath his sleeve, and the clawed fingers tangled in the links, like only the metal was safe to touch. His expression was grim death, someone offering trust not because they wanted to, but because they had no other choice. Someone who was convinced they weren't being saved, but were instead only prolonging the inevitable.

Guilt like nausea bubbled up in Welsknight's stomach, and he stubbornly told himself it was the motion of flight that made him feel so wretched.

At last, Welsknight burst from the winding tunnels and into the bright day. He soared skyward, reveling for a moment in the feeling of stretching his wings without fear of crashing. There was a brief moment where, high in the sky and warmed by the sun, Welsknight felt some relief from his guilt. He even dared to wonder if he might impress the helsmet he carried -- surely he'd never flown before, or if he had, never on Hermitcraft, where there was only sun and wind and endless horizon, and not the twisted, smothering red of hels. But when he looked down, Tanguish's eyes were closed, that same look of mournful patience on his face, waiting, perhaps, for Welsknight to make the fickle decision of dropping him to his death.

"The sky is beautiful today," Welsknight said before he could stop himself. A peace offering. Look. See. I'm not a monster. A monster could never admire the sun. The sun, something of Light and Good. The sun, which burns away the darkness. The sun, which seemed to glare down at him like a great, judgemental eye, and make stark the deep, creasing lines of fear and strain on Tanguish's face. The helsmet didn't respond, besides a very quiet and appeasing whimper of agreement.

Whatever you say, if it means I'll live.

There was a very nasty, vindictive anger in Welsknight that wanted to drop the little beast. Expect the worst of me? Fine! Have it then!

The much louder voice of his guilt replayed for Welsknight the image of Tanguish curled up on the floor begging for his life, with a sword aimed at his throat.

Welsknight swallowed another sigh. He angled towards the earth in slow, gentle circles, spiraling to a landing outside of his tiny castle home on its distant shore away from all the other hermits. He carried Tanguish to the door, then stood in front of it awkwardly, trying to remember if he'd locked it. Tanguish cracked an eye open, glanced between Welsknight and the closed door, and then slowly, like he was scared Welsknight were under a spell that sudden movements might break, he reached forward and turned the door handle for him.

Welsknight awkwardly bundled them both inside. He dropped Tanguish as gently as he could manage onto his couch, and meandered to his brewing stand. He set to work on a healing potion, moving with practiced ease throughout the different barrels and boxes. Behind him, he could feel Tanguish's eyes boring into his back. He did not move from the couch. He didn't even move from the position Welsknight had dropped him in, except to curl his tail protectively around his injured ankle.

Finally, Welsknight's guilt and irritation got the better of him and he snapped. "Calm down, jeeze! If I was going to kill you, I would've done it in the cave."

Tanguish didn't move. He whispered a very obvious lie, in a voice that, rather valiantly, only just barely shook. "I'm calm."

"Then stop staring at me like that."

"When you change your mind," Tanguish whispered again, "I think I would... Rather see it coming."

"Change my mind?" Welsknight turned to face him, scowling. "What in hels is that supposed to mean?"

Tanguish didn't answer. He only watched Welsknight with that lamplight stare. It was deeply distrustful, and deeply unsettling. For a long moment, neither of them moved, or made any sound. Only the birdsong outside and the rolling bubble of the brewing stand reminded them that, while they both froze and watched, the world kept moving. Welsknight had to force himself not to fidget.

Eventually, Welsknight had to give up... Whatever weird little battle of wills they were doing. The imp was clearly better at his terror-stricken statue impression than Welsknight was at abiding it. He turned to his brewing stand, now finished, and quietly corked a bottle. He tossed it -- it was a bad throw -- and far nimbler than Welsknight expected, Tanguish caught it out of the air. He clutched the little vial to his chest, but didn't drink it.

Welsknight gave a scornful snort. "You know what a health potion is, I assume?"

Slowly, Tanguish nodded.

Agitation bolted through Welsknight like the liquid heat of a redstone charge. "Then take it."

Tanguish looked down at the potion in his hands. His eyes narrowed at it just slightly, the very first hint since this whole escapade started that the helsmet was calculating something.

"It's not poison," Welsknight said. "You watched me brew it. You'd know."

Tanguish glanced up at him again, cunning glinting in his gaze somewhere. It was striking. Glimpsing it sent a titter of unease through Welsknight. All the pathetic groveling had made him underestimate what he was dealing with, apparently. Tanguish was still a helsmet, after all. Though Welsknight couldn't imagine just what anyone would plot with a health potion of all things. He straightened slowly from where he leaned against the counter.

"What?" Welsknight demanded, when the silence grew long and uncomfortable, and the little beast still didn't move.

Tanguish watched him for another long second, braced himself, and said, "I am trying to figure out what happens when I drink this."

Welsknight frowned, pure, untarnished confusion pulling a snort from him. "Your ankle heals. It's a health potion."

"Then what?"

{... Then what?}

"Then you go home." Welsknight sniffed. "Wasn't that what all your dramatics were about?"

Tanguish, for the briefest of moments, managed to look insulted. But he was evidently still too scared of Welsknight to argue about whether those were just 'dramatics' or real fear for his life. Welsknight was quietly thankful for that. He didn't need to be convinced the panic was genuine. That look on the little beast's face would... Probably stick with him for awhile.

"Give me your word," Tanguish said very quietly, apologetically breaking the silence, "that when I drink this, you won't find a reason to kill me."

"I don't need to find a reason."

Tanguish's expression got just a little bit tenser around the eyes. He leaned over the side of the couch and gently deposited the health potion on the floor. Welsknight felt another flicker of irritation.

"Are you serious right now?"

Tanguish blinked at him.

"Just take the stupid potion, and scamper back to hels," Welsknight snapped in explanation, when all Tanguish did was stare.

"Not until I have your word," Tanguish insisted, not looking at him.

"Why do you need my word? If I was going to kill you I would've done it by now!"

"You stayed your hand out of guilt and pity," Tanguish murmured. Welsknight had to marvel at how well his voice made space for itself when it stayed so small and contained. "If I'm healed, there's nothing stopping you from deciding I'm a threat that needs dealing with again."

"Coward."

"Obviously."

That took Welsknight off guard, set his mind a little off-balance. He wanted to argue about that, needle at the comment and make the little pest angry. You admit it so easily. And then he had to remind himself that Tanguish was a helsmet, but, again, he wasn't Helsknight.

"I am not a knight," Tanguish murmured, apparently doing his best impression of a mind reader. "I'm allowed to fear for my life."

Welsknight tried a different tactic.

"You would seriously rather sit there with a broken ankle?"

"I can survive a broken ankle," Tanguish informed him. "I c-can't survive a knight."

"You survived Helsknight just fine." It wasn't supposed to be an accusation. It definitely, definitely sounded like one.

Tanguish squinted at him and said with equal, accusatory venom, "You're not Helsknight."

"You're right," Welsknight snapped indignantly. "Helsknight would've killed you. And probably told you all the reasons you deserved it while he did."

"He would have spared me," Tanguish said with a galling amount of conviction.

"No he wouldn't," Welsknight snapped. "If the tables were turned, and it were one of us Hermits caught wandering around hels--"

"He would have spared me then, too," Tanguish stated, with all the faith of someone dedicating themselves to a god. "He wouldn't have liked it. I'm sure he would get big and loud, and pace like an angry tiger, but he would find a line and would not cross it. He would make sure I knew he wouldn't hurt me. If I was truly lost and scared in hels, he would even try to help me. If I was being attacked, he would intervene. And he-- he d-definitely wouldn't come s-so close to killing me, that only his l-last m-minute guilt made him flinch. And I wouldn't have t-to cry and b-beg for that mercy. He-- h-he would g-give it f-freely."

As Tanguish spoke, his eyes narrowed and his frown tightened. His hunched shoulders squared themselves into something a little stronger. It was the look of someone committing to some great bravery. Someone who knew what they said or stood for might get them killed, but who believed it so whole-heartedly, they accepted whatever grim consequence came from it. It was a startling difference from the cringing helsmet on the floor of the cave, shaking and begging. So different, Wels was half convinced it had all been an act, that he'd been made a fool of, his emotions manipulated for some unforseen end.

{The other half of him looked on that conviction, that ride-or-die belief, and felt no small amount of envy. Welsknight wouldn't fool himself into thinking he was friendless. Even on his darkest days, he knew he was loved. But he didn't think any of his friends, when faced with what they believed to be imminent, unpleasant death or torture, would speak about him with such obvious adoration and conviction. He had no doubt, if he drew his sword right now and aimed it at Tanguish's throat like he had in the cave, and demanded the little devil take what he said back, Tanguish, cowering and crying the whole while, would stubbornly refuse.}

{That kind of faith and belief in anyone was awe-inspiring. That kind of faith and belief in Helsknight specifically was unthinkable. Helsknight, the most perfectly black-hearted knight Welsknight had ever met. He almost couldn't believe they were talking about the same person, if he hadn't seen the two helmets together before.}

When Welsknight finally managed to puzzle through the mire of his own thoughts, he said, "You have so much faith in him."

The helmet moved minutely, folding his hands in his lap. One of those dagger-sharp claws dug into his knuckle, drawing blood.

"I do."

"Why?"

It had not been the question Welsknight intended to ask. In fact, he hadn't intended to ask anything. But the question slipped past his teeth unbidden, driven by envy and curiosity, and the surrealness of the situation.

Tanguish blinked at him, that mask of grin determination slipping off into something markedly more nervous. The claw he had sank into his knuckle removed itself, found a spot slightly above the knuckle, and started scratching at an old scab. He did it without flinching -- nearly unconsciously. Welsknight had to wonder how Tanguish didn't spend his days finding inventive ways to get bloody fingerprints out of everything he touched.

"If it's because of some misguided sense of duty, don't bother," Welsknight prompted coldly, fishing for more of that conviction. Tanguish watched him warily, stiffening just slightly. "He was made to be a perfect knight. If he's protected you, it's because he has to. If it's because he's risked his life for you, he has no choice. He can't even swear he'll die for you -- he'll die for anyone his tenets demand he make a sacrifice for. It's how we-- it's how knights are."

Tanguish frowned at him as he spoke, the kind of grimace that implied he'd eaten something bitter. His claw made quick work of the scab, and he glanced down at his hands long enough to find a new scab on another finger to pick. Tanguish sat like that for a long time, studying Welsknight, bloodying his knuckles, lost in meditative self-harm, thinking. Watching him turned Welsknight's stomach. He wanted nothing more than to cross to the other side of the room and grab his wrists, force him to stop hurting himself. Maybe he could find some oven mitts to tie on the helsmet's hands to discourage the habit.

{Gloves. He would benefit from a very thick pair of gloves. The kind Keralis wore when he gardened maybe, with the rubber pads on the fingertips.}

"Do you love the sun?" Tanguish asked.

Welsknight blinked, perplexed. "What?"

"If the sun disappeared today," Tanguish said, "blinked out for no reason. No other consequences. The grass still grew. The seasons still changed. You could still see. But the day and night cycle, the sun on your skin. That bit stopped. Would you be sad?"

"That's a stupid question."

"You're probably right," Tanguish hummed thoughtfully. "Something less important to you then." Tanguish looked around the room. His gaze settled on a picture frame hanging on the wall, a sketch BDubs had made of all the hermits together near the end of the last season. "Have any of your friends ever died for you?"

Welsknight scowled. He didn't like the implication that he had more emotional attachment to the sun than his friends. He answered regardless. "No."

"Do you want them to?"

"No."

"When you first made friends with them, did they imply they would only like you if you were willing to die for them?"

"I would be."

"But would they ask you to?" Tanguish pressed, fixing him with a severe sort of glare.

Welsknight hesitated. "I don't know."

"Would you ask them to."

"No."

"You're certain?"

"I get it."

Tanguish had the audacity to raise an eyebrow at him.

"I get your point."

"You don't."

"You're making a stupid point about how obligation and duty don't matter--"

"Have you ever wanted to die?"

Welsknight stiffened. His stomach did a complicated cartwheel, something that knocked uncomfortably at the bottom of his ribs and asked his heart if it was home. Asked if it was listening.

"That might be hard for you to answer," Tanguish admitted for him, his gaze sliding back to the picture on the wall. "Or maybe, you don't want to answer it in front of me. I'm. Uhm. A helsmet, after all. I might use it against you. Right? But. Humor me." Tanguish started picking at his knuckle again, bloodying a new spot away from any other scabs. "Hels is... a hard place to live. I don't expect you to understand why. Uhm. S-suffice it to say that, a lot of people living under the shadow of greatness, all striking out at each other to prove their existence is worth the space it takes up in the universe... it is very, very hard. Between hels, and, between people like you, who think we are only obstacles to overcome... finding a single bright spot is... so, so important. You know, there are helsmets who can't leave hels? There are people alive out there who, outside of a very lucky, almost unattainable set of circumstances, can never see the sun?"

Tanguish swallowed. His voice was getting hoarse, a symptom of someone, normally quiet, forced to speak too long.

"You make your own light in hels. You try to do it without m-making anyone else's life worse. Or, most people do. Some people don't care, as long as they can capture some light but. But. You have to have something. The universe hates us too much. Without it, living is..."

Tanguish's brow creased, the kind of inward scowl that involved picking apart complex emotions, attempting to lay them to order in the most succinct and useful way.

"When I found Helsknight, I was in a very dark place. I was lonely. My world was becoming dark, and isolated, and cruel. I was cut off from light and heat and warmth. I thought I had lost everything. I thought, if I could die to set things right, I would. And I knew the universe wouldn't let me."

"Death is a temporary inconvenience," Welsknight said quietly.

Tanguish's expression twitched, something like irony.

"When Helsknight found me, I think he was defeated. He had given up on a lot of things that made him... him. He was holding onto the only thing he had left, spitefully, and angrily, and violently. And yes. He was terrifying. And yes. He was hard to like."

Tanguish swallowed.

"When we found each other, I was a bright living thing that wanted to die, and he was a defeated, dying thing that wanted to live. We were not good or kind. Not in any way either of us could recognize. I thought he was dragging me around hels, forcing me to solve my problems. He thought I was a coward wasting precious time. Time I should be grateful to have. We were incompatible. We hurt each other. But we needed each other. The spaces we carved for ourselves into each other's skin, we fit into like puzzle pieces."

Tanguish's claw felt along his knuckle, found a sore spot he'd already worried, and only then did he wince. He looked down at his hands. When he refolded them in his lap again, his hands were balled into fists, an attempt to keep the bitter habit at bay.

"You're right. Helsknight probably doesn't have a choice about who he dies for. He's a knight. You get weird and stupid and noble about things like that. I hate it. I've grown... fond of the space he takes up. I would be incomplete if he left -- all open wounds. And I do not want to know if, or how, they would heal." Tanguish took a breath. Then another. "But when I was at my darkest and most desperate, I hurt him as hard as I could, and still, he helped me. And when he was at his darkest, and he hurt me back, he remade himself to be more harmless. Let him have his duty. Let him be a perfect, insufferable knight. But I think, if his every tenet demanded sacrifice, and I stood in front of him and demanded he live instead... I think he would."

Tanguish offered Welsknight a thin smile. "And what is faith, if it isn't first trust, and trial and error?"

They sat in silence for a moment.

Eventually, Tanguish shrugged. "I don't know. The sun is a lot of things. It burns. It brings life. But I think, most importantly, it has yet to suffer a sunset, and refused to rise again."

Welsknight's chest was a complicated tangle. It occurred to him he should say something. Argue. Maybe point out Helsknight's many flaws. He found he didn't have the heart to. There was something withering about that much faith. He found himself wanting to believe, for the briefest moment, that Tanguish was right. That Welsknight's terrible other half was worth something -- worth living for, for someone at least. He thought, on a fundamental level that had nothing to do with Good or Evil, or his own grudges, that everyone deserved that.

Everyone deserved the sun.

Not knowing what to say or do, Welsknight found himself moving. Tanguish tensed on the couch, convinced, for a moment, he might be moving to violence. Welsknight made sure to keep his hand far away from his sword as he passed.

"Heal yourself," Welsknight said, "and be gone by the time I get back."

He left.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You clean your leg again. The wound looks and feels little better than the night before. The pulsing ripple of pain is a constant reminder, not that you can get that man out of your mind. Or your life. 

You get ready for work numbly. You’re just going through the motions. You don’t know what else you can do. 

Colin never returned your call. None of them. The window is broken. You don’t care. The window doesn’t matter. Breaking glass is far from the worst thing this man can do. 

You get on the bus wearily. You sit at the front. Each stop, you look up, expecting the man. Some teens, then a man with a walker. You tense up each time the breaks squeal. He’s taunting you again, without even being there. 

When your stop comes up, you get off and stand at the stop a few minutes, searching. You don’t if it’s better to see him coming... 

You cross the lot and enter the mall. You stop at the coffee shop and get a latte. It won’t help but the warmth might help whittle away at your rigid muscles. You go to the tea shop. This time, it’s Jeremy at the counter. 

“Hey, sup?” He asks as he put out the sample pitcher of fruit punch iced tea. 

“Nothing,” you answer, eye dart to the mall corridor and back to the counter. 

“Oh? Security was asking about you this morning.” 

“Um... what?” You turn to him, “they were?” 

“Yeah, something about a report last night. Said they were following-up. Something happen?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so concerned with anything. Not more than his phone. You shake your head. 

“Just... a suspicious customer,” you shrug. 

What’s the point in saying anything? You doubt his reaction will be any different than the police. Or that he could do anything more than offer empty platitudes. It’ll be okay. I’m sure the guy will get tired and leave you alone. 

No, he won’t. 

The look in his eye as he latched on and tore out your hair assured you of that. You can feel his grip, how strong he was, and you remember the way malice roiled off of him. He’s not just a man, he’s a monster. 

“Hm, no surprise there,” Jeremy snorts. “Halloween collections coming tomorrow. This place is going to get stupid.” 

“Of course,” you mutter without much thought. 

You stare over the counter into the bright mall. Waiting. Watching. He wouldn’t do anything now. Now with Jeremy right there. 

He would. He could. Last night on the bus, there were a dozen other passengers who didn’t give a shit about what he did. You put your hands on your head, gripping your skull as if it’s splitting in half. You show your teeth and whine. 

“Woah, everything okay?” Jeremy moves towards you and you wince away from him. 

“No! It’s not okay,” you spin and hurry into the back room. You grab your bag and your jacket and veer back out. 

“Hey, where are you going?” He shouts as you race around the counter. 

You don’t answer. You don’t have one. You just can’t stand still and wait for this man to show up again. 

You charge through the mall and to the exit opposite the one you usually come in. You stop just outside, right before the tarmac and heave. What are you doing? Where are you going? Home isn’t safe. There’s nowhere else to go. 

Your sister stopped talking to you when you called her boyfriend a deadbeat. Your parents took her side, like they always do, and the rest of your family doesn’t give a shit. Even if anyone did answer your call, they’d call you dramatic, or a liar. The latter is more likely. 

The police didn’t listen either. Your landlord won’t fix your window or replace the chain, he won’t even bother to check his voicemail. So, what now? 

You look around and your eyes snag on a dark figure. It’s him. Just beside one of the light poles. He stands unmoving, as motionless as the metal next to him. You trip backwards and twirl, bursting back into the mall. 

You sprint through the corridors, ignoring the patrons as they send you looks, swerving and weaving around them. You turn and come out on the east side of the mall. You slow to catch your breath halfway across the lot. 

What do you do? That stupid question has no goddamn answer. What are you doing? That one’s just as pointless. 

You get to the patch of grass and climb up onto the sidewalk. You turn south and walk without seeing. Cars blow by on the street as you grip the straps of your knapsack. You just walk. No where in particular. 

You cross and continue down the next block, and the one after that, and the one after that. When you’re dizzy and tired, you find a bench and sit. You bend forward and cradle your head. Your lungs burn, your legs too. Your head pounds from fatigue. 

You just sit there. When you sense gentle brush next to you, weigh creaking on the slats of the bench, you don’t look. You already know. It doesn’t matter how he found you. The inevitability was a given. 

Silent, still, you languish.  

You flinch only as he wraps his hand around your wrist and forces your hand away from your head. You sit up and he stands. He tugs you with him. You sway on your feet and he strides forward. You stumble along with him. Not a word, not a glance in your direction. 

He just marches on and you have no choice but to go with him. 

[mimismenu]

stitched back together

꒰ 🧵 ꒱ ℒee ℋeeseung [희승] : 𝒯wo-shot! (pt. 2) pt. 1 here!

𝓰enre : angst (??), fluffy fluffy fluff!

𝓹airing : non-idol,,best friend heeseung x fem reader – ex friends w/ benefits trope.

𝓢ynopsis : in which you’ve ran but he loves you too much to let you go.

𝔀arning(s) : prepare to see some sickeningly cute content.

𝔀ord 𝓬ount : 751

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝓂i 𝓃ote :

a much asked for part two of “the unravel of his cardigan”. you asked and i am hoping to deliver! i hope you enjoy it, and if you do, please like and reblog. it’s always appreciated. <33

enjoy, my lovely readers. xoxo, mi.

weeks have passed by dreadfully slow for lee heeseung and jang y/n, the latter maintaining a gruesome period of no contact. the boy tried dreadfully hard to pry you from the monstrous walls you’d placed up, wanting to have an ounce of understanding as to why you’d shut him out.

yet, you never gave him the light of day. torn between leaving his messages on read and blocking his contact, you’d have to face the reality of his persistent presence anyway. having shared lectures only made your distancing more difficult, heeseung perched beside you as he always was– like you hadn’t walked out on him.

hell-bent on your decision, you tried to validate the reason as to why you’d placed a pause on your friendship: that you were in love and he wasn’t. except, you didn’t know the truth, whether he reciprocated or not; and you needed closure.

to distract you from the weight of your feelings for heeseung, each return to your apartment was welcomed by a gift at your doorstep. whether it be flowers, your usual order from your favorite cafe, or even a plush that reminded the secret admirer of you. silently, you wondered who would have known the information of your apartment, your regular order, and the other favorites– your mind slipping past the idea of him.

one night, settled in your apartment for the rest of the day, you’d received a knock at your door– not expecting a guest nor package. standing in confusion from the warmth of your couch, you’d paused the drama playing on the television to inspect your mysterious visitor. your steps gently pattered against the floor, warning the boy on the opposite side of the door of your impending presence.

unlatching the lock, she pulled open the front door with hesitance, only to meet the gaze of lee heeseung.

with widened eyes, you simply stared in surprise, lips parted and absolutely no words slipping past them. however, he took your pause as an advantage, extending a large bouquet in your direction, a smile gracing his features. once you’d taken the flowers from his grasp, he paused for a moment– wanting you to understand his sudden appearance.

“beautiful girls, all over the world…” he begins, voice soft– his singing reverberating in your chest. stepping closer, he invades your space, hands extending to grasp your waist in a gentle touch.

“i could be chasin’ but my time would be wasted, ‘cause they got nothin’ on you, baby,” he continues, voice raising a degree as he pushes the door shut with a maneuver of his foot. maintaining his hold on you, he guides you backward, further into your home.

“nothin’ on you, baby,” he whispers, brushing his lips against your forehead in an affectionate display of his longing– a sigh escaping you as you melt into him.

“they might say hi, and i might say hey,” he continues, gaze intent as he meets your eyes.

“but you shouldn’t worry about what they say, ‘cause they got nothin on you, baby,” raising a hand, he presses the tip of his index finger against your nose’s tip, earning a giggle from your lips.

“nothin’ on you, baby, mm-mm.” he finishes, heaving a sigh as he presses his forehead to yours. staring up at him, your eyes can’t help but gloss over, the boy warming your heart.

“hee.” you call in a broken voice, his eyes softening at the sight. in an unspoken understanding, he leans down to capture your lips in a gentle and slow kiss, your emotions mingling.

“i’m so sorry.” you sniffle as he retracts from the kiss, his thumb reaching to swipe a stray tear from your cheek. “shh, baby. i know, it’s okay.” heeseung reassures in a low voice, cradling you as if you were the most delicate object he’d ever held.

“i love you, so much.” he begins, his laughter rumbling in his chest at the sight of more tears escaping your eyes from the simple confession. “so stop running.” he firmly mutters, holding your chin between the pad of his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger.

“okay.” you laugh through the stream of tears, nodding your head with the range of motion heeseung had left you. “i won’t run away, not from us. i love you too, so much.” you confess, reaching to cradle his nape.

and despite the distance you’d originally hoped for, the warmth of his arms reassured you that he was yours, and you, his.

taglist : @greentulip @nshmuras @wonsdoll @pnghoon @pshbites 📎

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Omg Ivy I love how well you write your marauders fics! You’re amazing! Specially your wolfstar x reader!!!

Could you write another one, please? Like, reader is Remus’s best friend but she hates Sirius (he’s dating Remus), or she thinks she does, but in reality she’s jealous of him because he gets to touch Remus like she has always wanted to. And consequently Sirius thinks he hates her too, but in fact he’s just trying to hide the fact he’s on his feet for her as well. One day Remus is done with both of them and lock the three of them in a room and spill to them he is in love with both of them and can’t have them fighting anymore. And after that reader and Sirius end up confessing their own feelings for each other and they start dating after many kisses.

thank you so much for the request!! and the idea was so fun to write 💕 ps. i suck at summaries

𝟷.𝟿𝚔 || 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You thought you were jealous of Sirius for stealing away Remus's attention but maybe you just needed to admit your feelings for both of them.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Wolfstar x Reader

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with life, as usual, but it felt distant to you. You sat slumped on the couch, tapping your quill impatiently against your parchment, though not a single word had been written in the last half hour.

It was him. It was always him. Sirius Black, with his annoying smirk, his too-cool-for-school attitude, and the way he seemed to monopolize every moment of Remus’ time.

It was infuriating.

Remus was your best friend. You’d been through thick and thin together, shared secrets, laughed until your stomachs hurt. Yet now, whenever you were around him, Sirius was there too. The two of them always seemed to be in some intimate conversation or worse—touching. A hand on Remus’ shoulder, Sirius’ fingers threading casually through Remus’ hair. It was like a constant, silent reminder that you were on the outside looking in.

And you hated it. Hated how much Sirius made you feel like you didn’t belong, like you weren’t enough for Remus anymore.

“You know, glaring holes into parchment isn’t going to make it write itself.”

That voice. Smooth, low, with that aggravating lilt of arrogance. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“Go away, Black,” you muttered, still staring at the blank parchment.

Sirius flopped onto the couch opposite you, arms spread wide like he owned the place. “Come on, I’m just trying to be helpful. Your brooding is becoming a bit of a spectacle.”

You finally looked up, your eyes narrowing. “Oh, I’m sure my brooding is nothing compared to the grand theatrics you put on every time you walk into a room.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring. “Theatrics? Or natural charm? It’s a fine line.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Actually,” he leaned in with a smirk, “it’s Remus that helps me sleep at night.”

Your stomach twisted at that, the reminder of their relationship hitting harder than it should have. You hated that it hurt, hated that Sirius knew exactly how to push your buttons. But instead of backing down, you crossed your arms and fired back, “You mean, he puts up with you at night. Big difference.”

Sirius chuckled darkly, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“And you’re unbearable.”

“Can’t handle a bit of competition?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly masked it with a sneer. “You? Competition? Please.”

“Oh, but I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Sirius said, his voice lowering. “You don’t hate me, do you? You just can’t stand the fact that I’m the one who gets to touch him.”

You didn't want to admit it, but maybe he was right.

The common room is quiet once again, save for the soft crackling of the fireplace and the occasional creak of floorboards as you shift uncomfortably in your chair. You're supposed to be studying, but your mind drifts far from textbooks and quills. Instead, it wanders to Remus who has somehow slipped from your grasp and into the arms of Sirius Black. Sirius bloody Black.

A sigh escapes your lips, frustration bubbling up inside you. It makes no sense. You’ve never particularly liked him. Sure, he’s handsome in an annoying, arrogant sort of way. With his dark hair that constantly falls into his grey eyes, he has the ability to make anyone—especially you—seethe with irritation. But it’s not just that. It's the way he has Remus.

You throw down your quill in irritation, glaring at your dorm room door. Any second now, Remus will walk in with Sirius at his side, and they'll sit together, talking quietly while you pretend not to care. It’s always like this. The three of you, but somehow, you always feel like the third wheel.

Your dorm door opens, and as if summoned by your thoughts, in walk Remus and Sirius. They're laughing at something you can't hear, and a pang shoots through your chest. You try to swallow it down, but the resentment lingers.

"Hey," Remus greets, his warm smile easing the tension in your shoulders just a little. He's the only person who can do that. The only person who has always been there for you.

"Hi," you manage, avoiding Sirius' gaze.

Sirius flops down onto the bed beside Remus, far too close for your liking. His arm brushes against Remus' casually, and you clench your jaw. He glances at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, his lips twitch, as if he’s about to say something, but he remains silent.

It's like this every time. You can't stand being around them when they're together, but you can't stand the idea of not being around Remus either. The tension builds with each passing day, and it's driving you insane. Especially because you don’t know what to make of the flutter in your stomach whenever Sirius speaks to you.

"Are you alright?" Remus asks, his eyes filled with concern. Of course, he notices.

"I'm fine," you say, a little too quickly. "Just tired."

Sirius snorts from his side of the bed, and you shoot him a glare.

"What's your problem?" you snap.

"My problem?" He raises an eyebrow, giving you that signature Sirius Black smirk that makes you want to smack him and… kiss him? You mentally slap yourself. No. No way.

"You’re being a brat," he says casually, leaning back with his arms behind his head, as though he owns the room.

"You're insufferable, Black," you spit out. Remus looks between the two of you, his brow furrowing. He’s always been the mediator between you and Sirius. But lately, even he seems to be getting tired of the constant bickering.

"Okay, enough," Remus says, his voice tight with frustration. He stands, looking between you and Sirius, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I’m done."

You blink, startled by the sudden change in his demeanor. "What are you talking about?"

"You two," Remus snaps, his eyes flashing. "This—this constant fighting. I can't take it anymore."

Your heart skips a beat as Sirius sits up, his smug expression fading.

"Moony—" Sirius starts, but Remus cuts him off.

"No. Both of you listen." He runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "I can't… I can't do this anymore. I'm in love with both of you, and it’s tearing me apart to see you two at each other's throats all the time."

The silence that follows is suffocating. Your heart is racing, pounding in your chest so loudly you're sure everyone in the room can hear it. Did you hear him right?

"What?" you whisper, barely able to get the word out.

Remus looks at you, his expression softer now but still pained. "I love you both. And I can't stand the thought of choosing between you."

Sirius looks just as shocked as you feel. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. For once, Sirius Black is speechless.

You stand abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "You—you love us both?" Your mind is spinning. This can’t be real.

Remus nods, his eyes locked on yours. "Yes. But you both… you hate each other."

Your chest tightens at the way he says that. Does he think you truly hate Sirius? Do you even hate him? You glance at Sirius, and for the first time, you catch a flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable.

"I don’t…" you start, your voice wavering. "I don’t hate him."

The room feels like it’s closing in on you. All those moments of frustration and anger, all the times you’ve snapped at Sirius, all the snide remarks—it wasn’t hate. It was jealousy. Jealousy because he got to be with Remus in a way you never could. And maybe, just maybe, because you’ve been denying your own feelings for Sirius all along.

Sirius stands, his grey eyes locked on yours. "I don't hate you either," he admits quietly, his usual cockiness gone. "I… I’ve been lying to myself. Trying to pretend I didn’t… want you."

The air between the three of you shifts, the weight of the confession hanging heavy in the room. You feel dizzy, your heart racing as you try to process what’s happening.

"Remus," you breathe, looking back at him. "I… I love you too. I always have."

His face softens, and he steps closer to you, but before he can say anything, Sirius speaks again.

"And I… I love you too," Sirius says, his voice low but filled with emotion. "But it's not just Remus. It's you. I’ve been a coward about it. I didn’t want to admit it."

You stare at him, your breath catching in your throat. His words hang in the air, and suddenly, everything falls into place. The fighting, the tension, the way your heart flips every time Sirius speaks or even looks at you. You weren’t fighting because you hated him. You were fighting because you were terrified of what you felt for him.

"I…" You struggle to find the words, your emotions a tangled mess inside you. But before you can say anything, Sirius takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. His touch is soft, careful, as though he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

But you don’t. Instead, you lean into his touch, your breath hitching in your throat as you look up at him. His eyes are softer now, the usual arrogance replaced with something raw, something real.

And then, before you can think, before you can process what’s happening, Sirius leans in and kisses you. It’s tentative at first, a question in the way his lips brush against yours. But when you don’t pull away, when you kiss him back, he deepens the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer.

Your heart is racing, your mind spinning. This is Sirius. Sirius Black. The boy you thought you hated. The boy you thought you could never stand. But now, all you can think about is how right this feels.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, and you look over to Remus, who’s watching with a small smile on his face. He steps forward, pulling you into his arms, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I love you both," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I don’t want to lose either of you."

Tears prick your eyes as you lean into him, your heart swelling with love for both of them. You’re not sure how this will work, or what it means for the future, but in this moment, with Remus’ arms around you and Sirius by your side, it feels right.

You pull back slightly, glancing between the two of them, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "Well," you say, wiping at your eyes. "I guess we’re going to have to figure this out."

Sirius grins, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "I think we’ll manage," he says, leaning in to kiss you again, this time slower, more confident.

[hwnglx]

hm i tried my best to explain, he has a lot of different facets to him, so reading for him can get a little overwhelming.. hope it's still a nice read 🤍

jake's ideal type

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled songs: bored by billie eilish young and beautiful by lana del rey “will you still love me, when i got nothing but my aching soul?”

physical traits

natural and classic beauty. harmonious features. deep and intense eyes. color more on the darker side. (like dark eyes you can lose yourself in) fierce gaze. something strong about their features that makes them stand out, it just catches your eye. face that lights up once they smile. (looks colder in a resting position but transform once they break into a smile) keep hearing “부담스러워” meaning burdenful. in this context, used more in an “intimidating” manner. in korean this can be used for people who have intensity to their look, people you can't hold eye contact with for long. he doesn't have an extremely specific type, just needs to feel intrigued.

personality traits

so, jake likes his partners to have a powerful effect on him. what seems to intrigue him in a person, is “reverse charm” where they might look sweet and innocent, but are much more fierce and savage inside. or look intense and cold, but end up being very soft and sweet inside. someone with a captivating aura, who carries themselves with a sense of mystery. a person he looks at and makes him wonder, awakens his interest like.. “oh this person must have such a different side to them deep down.”

jake also likes it when his lovers can boldly challenge him and his beliefs. he wants someone witty who isn't afraid to talk back at him, change his perspectives. someone whose words and actions linger in his mind, make him re-think his own and in hindsight change and transform him for the better. he wants his relationships to turn him into the better version of himself and to provoke him to discover his best self.

another quality he seems to cherish in his romantic partners, is when they're patient, gentle and persevering. he wants someone with emotional intelligence and empathy for people, who looks after the ones they treasure with great care. he needs someone loyal who won't be discouraged quickly, and remains committed to him through every trial. he seems to be quite self aware, so he knows that he isn't exactly the easiest lover to deal with.. whether that's because of his busy schedule, or his more complicated nature. he wants a person with motives and interests selfless enough to be accepting towards his faults, forgiving towards his mistakes. he wants a resilient person who can encourage him to work on himself. honestly, he seems to like his s/o to have motherly energy. he wants someone who will nurture him, coddle him on some levels, but also give him the tough love he needs to grow.

jake wants a person who puts importance into keeping the relationship harmonious. he'd appreciate a person who can balance him out, in a way where they can complete him in the areas he lacks. for instance, someone much more stable and grounded than him. someone who can be more logical or objective and less impulsive when the situation asks for it. i keep hearing “정신 차려”, which means “come to your senses” or “pull yourself together”.

(note; this insight was interesting because i think he's this case of opposites attracting and benefitting from each other. he could grow a lot from being with someone like jay, who has a stellium in taurus, which is opposite jake's scorpio stellium. idk if they're close but despite unavoidable clashes due to being so so different, they have potential to balance each other out pretty well)

jake puts a lot of value into understanding each other on a level deeper than everyone else. he wants there to be effortless communication between the two, almost telepathic, where they know what the other means even without necessarily being vocal about it. the person who seems to know you so well; they complete your sentences, or know what you're thinking or feeling just by one glance at your expression.

he also seems to like his lovers having this duality in personality, where they can be both; cute, playful and kittenish (someone who flirts in this giggly and coy way), but capable of having meaningful and long conversations about deep and serious matters in life. he does seem to love duality a lot, whether that's appearance-wise or character-wise.

him as a boyfriend

+ jake is a boyfriend who loooves making you feel like it's only you and him in this world. he really values alone-time and deep intimacy, whether that's physical intimacy in the form of quality time, or emotional intimacy in the form of deep conversations. he enjoys zoning in on his partners and focusing the entirety of his attention on them.

sweet aspect; he himself can be very moody, but if you need him to be your source of comfort and shoulder to cry on, he can become that for you. he'll put effort into making sure he wins over your trust and you feel comfortable around him. he wants you to feel safe enough to not be afraid of showcasing your emotions, whether that's sadness, frustration, anger.. he likes to see it all. he does enjoy seeing his lover riled up about him lmao, since to him it shows they're passionate about the relationship. but there is this comforting and warm energy to him, where he's good at making you feel seen, and listened to.

he is the type of boyfriend who will want to stick by your side through all storms. he really values what his lovers have to say. let's say you got into an argument with him; once you've both calmed down, he might sit you down, softly take your hand and deeply gaze into your eyes while quietly listening to your side of the story. he'll want to understand your perspective and your heart.

he can be responsible as a lover. it almost feels like a task to him to fulfill his role as a boyfriend, to make you feel like you can rely on him. he wants to lead the relationship, and make you feel secure. it's very much an equal give and take, since he does seem to enjoy leaning on his partner for security at times as well. evidently, he seems to actually like a balanced relationship with no crazy power dynamics.

- hm, some heavy energy here i don't feel comfortable diving into deeply. but i can sense him realizing he has a habit of so strongly clinging to his lovers, due to abandonment issues. which can be quite common for scorpio placements.. he's scared of being left behind and replaced with someone “better”, due to him potentially not being good enough to stay with. there's some lingering fatigue and emotional baggage from the past he seems to struggle letting go of.

jake can put so much pressure on himself to satisfy his partner. he wants them to feel fulfilled and confident in the relationship and makes it his responsibility. it can weigh on him if he feels like his partner is starting to lose the spark, fall out of love with him, and especially lose their trust in him. he wants his lover to recognize how much he cares about the connection, but is self-aware enough to understand it's his own bad habits and impulsiveness that can stand in the way.

i can see him having bad habits like, having wandering eyes or being too charming and.. complementary towards women, where it can border on flirting. blurring the lines (like in his eyes it wasn't flirting but his partner sees it differently). though i can't see him straight up cheating, “superficial” things like that can still understandably rub partners the wrong way. it can easily cause discomfort, conflicts, miscommunication. this can lead to trust issues on both sides. he can just be a boyfriend who requires a lot of patience.

[atamascolily]

Given how tightly plotted previously installments have been, I have to admit I was caught off guard by the seeming introduction of new characters in the Walpurgis no Kaiten trailer. However, on reflection (heh), it makes sense if one of the themes of the movie is indeed opposites/doubling/mirroring. After all, if Homura has a double for a narrative foil, why shouldn't the rest of the main cast have one, too? Prior to the second trailer, I had assumed this role would be filled by the "new girl" in the first trailer, who appears to be a Homura/Mami/Madoka hybrid, but it seems that's just the tip of the iceberg.

That said, it's also clear to me from the second trailer that this mirroring, if that's what's really going on here, isn't going to always literal as it is with Homura. The girl paired with Nagisa in the ball pit in the second trailer doesn't look exactly the same as Nagisa, but it's clear from the framing that the two of them are being deliberately juxtaposed, and will likely serve as narrative foils to each other. My guess is that this girl is the humanized form of Nagisa's witch Charlotte, just like I think that the most likely candidate for Homura's double is her witch Homulilly, (because the metaphorical almost always becomes literal in this series, even though the movie may or may not name them directly as such), but my point stands regardless of their exact relationship to each other.

If that's the case, then who in the Holy Quintet is the counterpart for the other new character--the green-haired girl in the trailer?

The obvious answer is "Mami"--partly because of the tea party and general vibes, and partly because of the color scheme (green and yellow go well together and the girl has golden eyes like Mami's). This is especially true if fan theories are right and this girl is the humanized form of Gertrud the Rose Witch, whom Mami faces off against in episode 1-2 of the original series, and who serves as a deliberate counterpoint to Mami there.

Having a more human Gertrud as foil to Mami would make sense because unlike Homura and Nagisa, Mami never becomes a witch in the original series; while she does have a witch form in the PSP game and other spinoff media, I think we are unlikely to see it in this installment and thus her most likely counterpoint would then be Gertrud. Gertrud's familiars are also visible in Homura's new world at the end of Rebellion, suggesting she might turn up in some fashion in Walpurgis no Kaiten.

(This also raises the interesting question of whether Mami's VA would voice this character or not. Considering that Kaori Mizuhashi also voiced Walpurgisnacht and Tatsuya in the original series, it's not impossible than she and/or other voice actors might play one or more roles in this new installment. As a bonus, this would also mean that SHAFT could get away with not announcing the minor roles before the release, as they would probably have to if they were adding completely new voice actors to the cast. Until we get more news, I'm assuming that Chiwa Saito is voicing both Homuras, though everything else is more speculative.)

However, it occurred to me that based on her ponytail and her position in this shot, she could also be Kyouko's foil (red and green being opposing colors); this is less likely, but I figured I'd mention it as a possibility anyway, since the second trailer appears to be leaning heavily into Rebellion parallels. TBD. Like Mami, Kyouko doesn't have a witch form in the original series, so her most likely parallel is another established witch character, although nobody from the original series immediately leaps to mind.

(By the way, this would mean there are more new characters--or new versions of established characters--we haven't seen yet, so, uh, hold that thought.)

After that, it gets a little more complex and murky. Sayaka's most likely foil should be her witch Oktavia, but it's unclear to me from what we've seen so far how much that particular conflict manifests internally or externally. I think Sayaka is going to be extremely conflicted in Walpurgis no Kaiten, and it will be interesting to see how her arc develops. Based on the original series, however, I would say that the other logical witch counterpart for her is Elsa Maria the Shadow Witch, whose labyrinth mirrors Sayaka's black and white thinking during a particularly dark period for her, though I suppose H.N. Elly the Box Witch who attacks Madoka in Episode 4 is also a possibility.

Madoka also has a witch form, Kriemhild Gretchen, who is absorbed into the Law of Cycles, though I think her foil is most likely the Law of Cycles itself. We'll have to see.

You may have noticed that I am limiting myself solely to witches from the original series rather than spinoff media. The first reason is that I'm skeptical that SHAFT would bring in a witch that general audiences who have only followed the main series have never seen before (except for maybe a brief cameo). The second reason is that the Law of Cycles' motif in Rebellion explicitly shows only those witches from the original series, and we see only a select group of these witches and/or their familiars during the battle against Homulilly's familiars.

All these witches are potentially fair game to appear in WnK, making nine in all, though I doubt more than a handful would have more than a few lines, let alone a major role. Also this diagram does not appear to incorporate Walpurgisnacht unless she turns out to be the Law of Cycles after all.

Somehow, I can't imagine SHAFT pivoting in mid-stream to bring up something completely new or even a more obscure witch from another spinoff, especially when so much of the main series focused on reliving and re-experiencing the same events over and over again. Sorry, fans of the Madoka PSP and slot machine games, I think you're destined to be disappointed in your wish to see any of those game-only witches on the big screen, but I suppose we'll see.

This is all just speculation for now, but I'm excited and intrigued to see where this goes!

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Jake Jensen

Summary: Jake knows he's the luckiest man in the world and it's all because of you.

Warnings: None at this time. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

You and Jake are both brimming with excitement. It's such a big day for the twins: choosing their starter Pokemon! Your cameras were ready and you had done everything you could to make sure the twins wouldn't be overwhelmed and stressed. A lot of planning went into how to make sure the twins actually chose on their own and that Luke didn't just mimic Leah's choice.

Jake had picked up two sets of plushies for each twin to choose from. In true Pokemon fashion, he had placed them in order of Charmander, Squirtle, Bulbasaur. To keep the decision from becoming too pressured you agreed to set them up on the opposite side of the living room while playing with the toddlers. You'd let them approach as they saw fit and have the cameras going to record the precious moment.

Watching your babies alternate between crawling and walking is bittersweet. It seems like just yesterday they were tiny little beans you could hold in one arm (Jake still can, but that's his muscles at work). They're already getting good at walking and talking. Pretty soon they'll be going to school! You love that your babies are doing so well, that they're growing up to be such happy people, but you also kinda wish they'd stay small and clingy.

Jake sees your eyes tearing up and his smile drops, "you okay, Sunshine? What's wrong?"

"I'll be fine, Jakey," you assure. "It's just, they've been hitting so many milestones so quickly!"

"I know," Jake hugs you. "Pretty soon they'll be beating their old man at video games, too."

You laugh at that. "It'll probably be quite some time before that happens."

"You say that now, but I'm pretty sure Luke's got some good dexterity skills. And Leah's definitely gonna have a competitive streak. She was born a full seven minutes before her brother!"

"I know, Jake. I remember that painfully well."

He kisses the top of your head. "Thank you, again, for all of this."

The two of you had been so caught up in talking you hadn't realized that the twins had toddled over to the plushies until they started laughing. You and Jake gasp as Leah picks up the Charmander, laughing and hugging it before picking up the other two. Meanwhile Luke grabs and takes a big bite of the Bulbasaur plushie.

You and Jake rush over and playfully pick up the twins. "Leah Mabel," you playfully yell, "you're a Charmander girl!"

Jake gently tosses Luke, still holding the Bulbasaur, "And Luke Mason, showing off those brains and picking the statistically best starter!"

You give Jake a fake glare, "you know you can make up for not having a Bulbasaur by picking up other Pokemon along the way, right?"

"I stand by my statement," Jake ribs. Looking at Leah, "and you clearly already knew about that because you picked up all the plushies after choosing Charmander, didn't you?" Leah laughs at him as he gently tickles her.

The four of you spend the rest of the night celebrating by playing with all the plushies until the twins needed to get to bed. As you watch the two of them sleep you whisper to Jake, "should we have another baby?"

Jake freezes a little, "it's definitely been on my mind. But I didn't want to say anything because it's going to be a lot for you."

"So, if I tell you I want another, you'll support me in that?"

"Always."

You smile, "thank you for that, Jake. I'm definitely going to think about it. In the meantime, how about we get in some practice?"

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[sir-gio22]

TRAIN WITH ME ~Ben Shelton

Part 1

Ben shelton x reader

Prompt: you are a tennis player and your father trains you, too much. One day you faint and after you and ben happen to see each other.

Warnings: abuse, overtraining, fainting, mentions of hospitals

You're supposed to be the N1

You're supposed to be a rising star

You're supposed to be in the top 10

You're supposed to train bett

You're supposed to have a perfect technique

You're supposed to win every match, every point

You're supposed to serve better, to never double fault

You are a failure

A failur

A failu

A fail

A fai

A fa

A f

A

These are your thought, slowly fading away as you faint, on the cold floor of the hotel gym. After training for five hours in a row with your dad.

Those thoughts. They were the words your father say to you, every god damn day of your life.

Five hours ago, he dragged you away from the food you were eating, you didn't deserve it, he said. You only need to train, train, and train.

He made you run for three hours, only taking two little breaks, that was more than enough, your father said.

It's 6pm, he went to book a court for two hours for you to train after ‘dinner’, which he won't let you eat.

I will introduce yourself, if you let me. You are the child of a ex-pro player, your father was, twenty years ago, a slam champion and the n1 in the world.

When you were born, he didn't wanted a child. He wanted a prodigy. A pro student and player.

Your family, being rich, always made teacher come to your house to teach you, homeschooling you for years. The only time you would socialize where when your father would take you to elegant events about tennis or introduce you to other rich people. They usually were all adults, and the kids you would befriend in those nights were all spoiled and already acting like adults. They had the latests phones and clothes, they had perfect grades and everything they wanted, you, on the other side, had the things you needed to live when you deserved them. If you didn't train your father won't feed you or make you sleep in the cold and old basement.

At four years old, you were already winning kid tournaments, at 10 you won the national under 10 tournament, at 12 the under 12 one, at 14 the under 14 one, and at 15 your father made you play qualifying in the us open, you played small tournaments before in other countries, some 250 or 500 and a challenger 1000, but never a slam.

That week you won three rounds, but you got another qualifier prodigy at the fourth, which you lost to.

And your father let's say…he wasn't happy. The opposite. He was in the stands when you lost, your opponent celebrating, you shook hands and saw your fathers glare. You knew what was coming. And it was terrible.

That night you got beaten by him. And hard. You still have those scars, and you slept in the basement.

But what does you mom do to your father treating you like shit? Nothing.

She can't do anything. She's dead. A disease, the doctors says.

The truth?

Your father poisoned her slowly, it made her develop a disease. And the doctors? Corrupted by him.

Let's get back to the current time.

When your father left you sat on the floor of the empty gym, your father paid the hotel to have it exclusively for you when you wanted (when he did, just to specify, you had no word on this).

Your heart beating fast, too fast. It feels like it'll explode any second. Your ears were ringing, your vision blurry, your whole body not just sore, but exhausted by the excessive training.

You fainted.

Two hours later, getting shoken by someone made you regain consciousness. It was you father calling you to train.

In the two hours he left you were supposed to get back to your hotel room and study, and he's already mad because you're still in the gym.

“Were you sleeping, huh? Don't lie! I told you you had to study! What were you doing?! Resting? You don't need that!” He slapped you. Your left cheek reddening.

He made you get up and pushed you outside, then to the tennis courts.

You had to train with the strength you didn't had, the only this you looked towards every day was sleep.

You entered the court, there were hard courts divided by two benches and a umpire seat.

You didn't think that any other player would be playing in those courts, since usually your father books a secluded one where there's just you two training, because he has the habit to yell at you when you make mistakes.

But you see a young player in the second court, you recognize him, *Ben Shelton*, you never actually look at others players or chat with them, but sometimes Ben came to you to chat since you started playing professionally.

You wave at him, hoping he won't notice the eyebags under your eyes and the state you're in. More on the other side than on earth.

Ben was training with his father and coach, Bryan, having a parent as a coach isn't a pleasant thing, for you. But Ben seems to love being coached by Bryan. Well, can't blame him, Bryan's a sweet man, not an abuser.

You place your bag on the bench near the one where put his. You father was still at the gate, chatting with another coach, while Ben and Bryan came to you.

“hey! Long time no see, huh? Been some months since we talked, I wonder why you never get seen anywhere other than tennis courts. Anyway, how's it going?” Ben says

“Hey, nice to see you again ben! I'm alright, a bit tired, my old man's killing me. But don't tell him I'm complaining” you joke, still by telling a truth.

“Mine isn't taking back either, I feel like dying every practice ahah”

“That's not true, ben, I train you the right amount. Not too much, like their father does. Are you sure you're not training too much, bud?” Bryan chimes in.

You're eyes widen the much they can because you're so tired to actually make a shocked expression, what do you reply to that? You could tell the truth, ben was the closest thing you had to a friend after all, or you could lie, and if they believed you you'll probably faint again and go to the hospital.

You stay silent for a moment, their eyes locked on your face, concerned and worried about you.

What will happen? Find out in part 2!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this at school so it might not be that good, but let me know what you think! Should I continue this?? I already have the part two in mind but no spoilers🤭

[orbitariums]

FINALLY BLACK READER CHALLENGERS FICS WOOOO!!! plz do stanford!art dating black track star! reader👀👀 patrick can be involved too maybe he goes to stanford idk

no more running | art donaldson + black trackstar! reader

i know nothing about track (or tennis!) so bear with me

art was infatuated with you the moment he saw you at a track meet tashi’s dragged him to — he really had no interest in anything but tennis, that is until he saw you.

you were perfect, all silky brown skin and braids pulled up into a high ponytail, with the physique of a lioness. and it helps that your body's insane – you're visibly strong and you carry yourself well. you moved with a flourish, effortlessly and gracefully. nothing and nobody could stand in your way — except maybe art. you'd heard his name echoed all around campus for how much of a tennis god he was, but now, in front of you, he presented as anything but. he was stumbling over his words and his feet introducing himself to you, all crooked smiles and awkward handshakes.

"hi. i'm art. donaldson. art donaldson. but you can just call me art, obviously you don't have to call me by my full name, that would be weird."

you couldn't help but grin, though your brows furrowed together in confusion,

"right... hi. i'm—"

"yn. i know. i'm uhh, a friend of tashi's. you were really talented out there today."

"is my friend bothering you?" came tashi's voice from around the corner. you started packing your things in your duffel bag, shaking your head with a laugh that made art's heart melt,

"no, the opposite actually."

"great," tashi grinned knowingly. "well in that case... lunch?"

it was history from there. art started showing up to all your meets, and you to his tennis games. it was cute, the way you cheered each other on and pretended it was nothing more than camaraderie and sportsmanship between friends. the way you pretended art's bicep flexing with every thwack his racket made against the tennis ball didn't make your throat run dry. the way art pretended watching you stretch on the field before a match, your shorts lifting up to reveal the expanse of skin just above your thigh didn't make him shift in his seat.

if patrick weren't with tashi, he'd probably go for you too, and art knew it. it's why he almost gets defensive when patrick comes to visit and the four of you go on these little psuedo double dates, since neither you nor art had addressed the fact that you wanted each other. he was always courteous with you, but he made sure to hold every door open for you, pull out every chair, and even paid for your food. it was like he was showing patrick that this was his girl, and it amused patrick so much that he told art,

"if you're gonna fuck her, just do it. you don't need to go getting my approval."

"i'm not trying to fuck her, pat. and i'm not getting your approval. i just... i don't know, i want her to be mine."

"i'm pretty sure she's yours already, pal. have you seen the way you two act?

it's a slow burn, but it feels so good to wait. art kisses you finally during one of your study dates together — you both only have so much time to actually focus on school as student athletes, so you spend that time together — it's soft and longing and sweet. you become something of a power couple on campus, making signs for each others' games and running up to art on the field after he's won, letting him lift you up into his arms and swing you around — never mind the trophy.

art runs ice baths for you when you need them, and lets his strong hands groove into your sore muscles, blushing at your relieved moans. he's got no problem stretching you out in other ways too, fucking you slow and deep like he's just trying to pass the time inside you, spending hours letting your pleasure unfold before him. letting your fingernails leave scars on his back because he has enough already from his sport, what's a few more?

when you have early team meetings, art makes you breakfast and sends you off with your favorite strawberry smoothies he makes. he helps you with meal prep every week, spending hours in domestic bliss with you in your on-campus apartment. when you're not studying together or sleeping together, you're at the gym together, art's hands hovering just by your hips to "help spot you" during deadlift squats.

on your media day, art helps you slick your natural hair up into a bun, aghast at how much edge control you insist on using. he also insists on teaching you to play tennis — you're vehemently against it at first, but you realize how much it actually improves your game. and you don't mind art cozying up behind you to "improve your backhand," even if it means you end up with your tennis skirt flipped over and the racket long forgotten. the same goes for art, except he just wants to curse you out after the first time you make him try uphill weighted sled sprints.

whatever you do, you do it together. you just get each other. and art knows he's found something special in you.

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

L change the worLd is such a funny light novel that is so close to my heart because nisioisin clearly thinks of L as this melodramatic hero of justice when it's pretty clear he's kind of an apathetic freak. however two things can be true at once.

[unopenablebox]

attempt to idly discuss concept of custom wedding vows with 🌸 ground to a halt after the realization that neither of us actually, like, wants to try to figure out what the fuck we'd be promising

can you do custom vows, but instead of vows to do stuff, it's just a list of the superbly good qualities of the other person in order to make it clear why any rational actor would agree that you should obviously plan to keep hanging out with them as long as possible

[alchemiclee]

I hate that whenever there's a gay ship, people immediately het-ify it. people are so obsessed with making one the "man" and one the "woman" when that's completely unnecessary, because they are both the man or the woman. It's extremely annoying. these people will completely mischaracterize a character to fit into their stupid little het roles they force on them.

for example, you don't need to make one man the "wife" and feminized him to the extreme and fit him in a traditional "woman" role so the other man can be the big strong masculine manly man. they can both be masculine or both be feminine or both be both at the same time! they do NOT need to be gendered opposites to fit het roles. crazy, I know! it's like no one considers it a possibility! or sees how good it can be to have them be equals without gendered nonsense.

when there's a gay relationship, you have the perfect opportunity for the couple to stand on equal ground. they get to be equals who are just as strong and just as soft as each other. there's no faulty power dynamics where one is above the other (because let's face it, society unfortunately deems masculinity > femininity). one doesn't need to protect the other. they can protect themsleves, fight aide by side as equals. one doesn't do all the housework. they share that duty equally. one isn't weak and pretty, while they other strong and manly. they both are strong and pretty, or masculine and weak at the same time.

equal relationships are amazing and need to be explored more and appreciated. there can be more understanding and working together. i'm bad at explaining what I mean, but I prefer these equal relationships over forcing them into opposite roles to mirror het relationships, which are usually extremely unbalanced and unequal. especially because these not het relationships! so why must they look like one? they can and should look different! so why does literally every shipper and writer out there make them so het coded?

I don't understand why people do this. do they actually believe all romantic relationships must mimic het ones to exist and thrive and purposely force that on them? or have they genuinely just not fathamed that they can be different and dont need to follow the expected het standards?

I wonder, it feels like no one actually knows how non-het relationships are meant to be and how they could work, since het ones are always forced down our throats since birth. it becomes The Standard that everyone thinks they must follow. maybe it's all people know since they don't see any other possibilities. their preferred dynamics for their ships are what we are taught and nothing different, because they don't know it can be different. i also think people might be obsessed with that whole "opposites attract" trope. but that opposite doesn't have to be the traditional het-fueld feminine vs masculine or wife vs husband characteristics. it can be other personality things like one is loud and one is quiet, one is dumb and one is overly smart, one is rich and one poor, etc. it doesn't have to be masculine vs feminine!

BREAK OUT OF THE HET NORMS!!!!! TEAR DOWN HETERONORMATIVITY!!!!!!!!! FREE THE GAYS

(disclaimer, not saying masculine vs feminine ships are all bad/shouldn't be done ever. but it doesn't need to be 100% of the time either 😅 can't think of one ship people dont do this with lol)

[twilightarcade]

I love making a character and then them immediately morphing into a knockoff of my dad. Like haha u were a guy but now you're just like my dad in particular and I'll never forget about that how does that make you feel