#but who would have known that I would have felt motivated to spend 3 hours carefully laying down approximately 70 metres of tape today?

[mctreeleth]

I spent the day carefully taping a 5cm grid onto a big acrylic sheet, so I can finally start digitising some vintage sewing patterns.

I'm also going to make whichever one I digitise, and if it makes any difference:

the Vogue pattern is going to be too small for me, but it is so rare that there is no other record of it online

the Style pattern I'm just going to do the jacket for now

the two Simplicity dressing gowns are basically the same except the bottom one has a slightly wider collar

the Simplicity dress/top with the flutter sleeves is probably most suitable for what's in season for me right now (it's 35°C here!)

and the Weldons coat has more interesting patterning than the other coats but I am very lazy so this would probably be the only time I would make it.

[autumnshighlady]

Love You For Infinity

Elrond x adopted daughter reader

summary: you’ve been in a depressive episode for weeks, and your thoughts turn dark - luckily, elrond is there to help guide you 

warnings: depression, self harm thoughts, mention of suicide, VERY bad mental health

word count: 3.5k

requests: It’s taken me a year to finish this oneshot due to my mental health. It was a bit difficult to write for reasons I won’t get into, so i apologize for the long wait. If you can relate to the reader in this fic at all, please know that you are not alone, and you are loved <3

IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING WITH THOUGHTS OF SUICIDE AND ARE IN NEED OF HELP PLEASE REACH OUT TO A PROFESSIONAL OR A HOTLINE

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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You wandered through the gardens, feeling the warm sunlight soak into your skin. It was a beautiful day – the flowers were in full bloom, their scents filling the spring air, countless colours surrounding you as you made your way down the cobblestone path. The aged moss and lichen draped the marble statues and carvings along the gardens, an ancient beauty contrasted with the new growth. But you could not bring yourself to enjoy the scenery, nor stop to smell the flowers you loved so dearly. For all their vibrance, they seemed dull, muted, despite their bright colours. The glowing sunlight that so many other elves basked in felt too hot, too invasive. The sweet spring scents were choking you, stifling their air in your lungs as you tried to breathe.

            You had once loved wandering through the gardens of Imladris. Now you felt nothing but indifference, the guilt of losing such a joyous area of your life gnawing at your gut. You used to spend hours in these gardens, soaking in the scenery and revelling in the nature around you, content to simply sit on one of the benches or lay down in the grass and let the sounds and scents of the environment wash over your mind.

Now, you could barely stand to walk through the familiar path. Still, it was an improvement, considering it had taken all of your strength to get out of bed this morning. The task alone was daunting, yet you felt no sense of accomplishment. Most days had been like this lately – sleepless nights tossing and turning, yet no motivation to get out of bed when the sun rose, no drive to get yourself ready for the day. Instead you would simply lay there, sheltered in the confines of your room, closing off the rest of the world.

You hated every minute of it. You hated the fact that you felt so useless, the weight of simply getting up being too much to bear. You loathed that no matter how hard you tried, you could not bring yourself to join your friends for breakfast or pick up a good book and read. You hated feeling so weak, so empty – your brain screamed at you to stop wasting away, to get up and do something, anything. But you just could not.

Hours of pondering and crying into your pillow was not enough to figure out why you felt this way. Nothing bad had happened, no traumatic event to set off this episode of pain and depression that felt neverending. You were simply an elf from the Woodland Realm, who had been sent to and raised in Rivendell after the darkness began to creep into what was once Greenwood the Great. You worked as a scholar in the libraries of Imladris, safe within the House of Elrond. You had not seen some violent war, as some of your peers had, nor had you known anyone close to you who died or suffered tragically. Your life was pretty much perfect, your days amounting to reading, art, and simply wandering the grounds – none of which warranting the pain which now seemed to have spread through your entire chest, threatening to cave it in and shatter every piece of you.

You brushed my finger against a rose carelessly, letting your hand wander down from the soft petals to the thorny stalk. You felt a sting of pain, a thorn snagging your pointer finger. Instead of wiping away the blood, you just stood there and dragged your finger further down the thorn, creating a longer red line, content to let droplets of blood spill onto the marble pavement, deep red contrasting with the white floors. At least I could still feel something, you thought bitterly, relishing in the pain slightly. At least you had not gone completely numb.

“My Lady?”

You turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Lord Elrond was standing a few feet behind you, clad in his regal silver robes. He wore no crown, yet still possessed that regal authority that he was so renowned for. You felt your gut twist as you saw the concern flood over his face as you turned your body to face him.

You could see in his eyes he knew something was wrong, but your body gave you away entirely. You knew your eyes looked hollow, framed by dark circles that sucked the life out of your face. Your dress was slightly too big, evidence of the weight you had lost in the past few weeks as you isolated yourself in your room. A sick part of you delighted in it, always having been insecure of your size. Your hair which was usually well-kept and styled hung loosely around your face, knotted and frizzy in some parts as it cascaded down your back.

To cover your shame, you bowed your head in formality. “My Lord Elrond.” You managed to say, staring at the pavement as you inclined your head, eager to get away from his piercing gaze.

Elrond sighed, visibly attempting to soften his gaze. “My dear, must I remind you again that you may simply call me Elrond?”

“My apologies, my Lord.” You mumbled, straightening up and finally meeting his gaze. He did not correct you. Instead, his eyes travelled down to your hand and the blood that still dripped from it.

“You are hurt.” Elrond stated, his eyebrows furrowing. He stepped forward, a gentle hand reaching out as if to assess the wound, but you found yourself stepping back.

“I am alright,” you said quickly, moving your hand back to your side. The blood smeared your midnight-blue robes, but you did not care. “I simply snagged my finger on a thorn. A careless mistake, that’s all.”

Elrond’s eyebrow raised, and dread filled your stomach as you knew he didn’t believe a word you said, or at least he did not buy the too-casual excuse you pulled out of your ass. Your relationship with Elrond had always been relatively close – as close as one can have with an elven Lord of Imladris. When you had arrived in Rivendell as a child, Elrond had ensured you were well cared for. He became involved in your life – often bringing you gifts and trinkets, showing you around the place. Reading to you evolved into him teaching you how to read, sitting at the table with you and his children at dinner. Elrond had taken a special interest in you, always finding a way to make sure you had everything you needed beyond what a normal elven lord would do for their people. Sometimes you wondered if this was due to him losing Celebrían right before you arrived, as if his protective instincts had doubled with wife’s departure to the Undying Lands. He could not spare her from torment, but he could do his best to make sure you never met the same fate. Things changed a bit as you grew older – not wanting to impose on the family he already had before you, you found yourself growing a bit distant. You had no desire to be a burden to him, you were not his blood nor did he raise you, but he still played a paternal role in your life. Even as you began to make a life for yourself in Rivendell, that kindness and care Elrond had shown you as a child prevailed. You and him still had walks in the garden, he still ordered books from other kingdoms he thought may interest you. It was complicated, as he was not your father per say, but he was all you had, and he was important to you. But at the same time, he was still the Lord of the town you had the privilege of residing in and living under.

Guilt clawed away at your gut as you realised how even more distant you had become in these past few weeks. You could not recall the last time you had a conversation with Elrond or sat down for dinner with him. Surely, he noticed your absence but did not want to intrude, trusting you to make your own choices and open up if you were ready.

But you were too far gone for that approach, and deep down you knew that he knew it too.

“That is more than a simple thorn prick, little one,” Elrond said, the concern on his face seeping into his voice. “If you will not tell me what happened, at least let me take care of it for you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but quickly shut up. You knew from the look in his eyes he was not going to let this go. You gulped down your nausea that was produced by your stomach, which churned knowing where this conversation was headed.

Arwen had made attempts to get you out of your room lately, none successfully executed. You cried even harder as she softly knocked at your door, her gentle voice ushering you to come out and join her for breakfast. You knew it broke her heart when you did not answer, unable to even crawl out of bed and unlock the door. She and her father knew something was wrong but had waited for you to come forward to them about it.

You guess they had waited long enough.

With your non-bloody hand, you accepted Elrond’s outstretched arm and began to walk with him towards his quarters. He did not hold you close to him as he usually did, as if he was afraid getting too close would scare you off. Instead, you walked in silence, which you appreciated. Other elves bowed their heads at him as you passed, but you kept your eyes to the ground.

Five minutes later, Elrond shut the door to his room, grabbing some herbs, water, and bandages to tend to your wound. The silence prevailed, and you sat down on the bed and let him take your hand. He began wiping the blood off, waiting a few seconds before saying softly, “I am glad to see you in the gardens again. It has been a few weeks since I last recall you spending time there.”

You sat quietly, torn. Part of you wanted to break down in ugly sobs and explain the struggles of the past few weeks, to open the floodgates and let go of every horrible and depressing thing you had felt and thought you had over the last while. But the other part of you screamed at yourself to suppress it, to make yourself go numb, a practice you now excelled at. Deep down you knew you wouldn’t have to make that choice – Elrond could see right through you. You knew that one look into those kind eyes and you would crumble, so you looked at the floor.

“Arwen has not seen you lately either,” Elrond continued gently, beginning to wrap up your hand in soft bandages. “Neither have I, in fact. Are you sick, my dear?”

“I…” Your throat went dry as you tried to speak. Say something, come on, say anything, you screamed at yourself. But no words came out.

After tying the final knot, Elrond looked up. “I can tell that you are unwell. I understand that you are grown now, but you are still my little one, and I wish you would know that you can always turn to me in time of need.”

At his comforting voice, you involuntarily looked up and met his gaze. Seeing those kind, concerned eyes that had watched over you all of these years opened that gate inside of you that you had tried desperately to keep sealed for so long. Like a dam bursting, tears spilled down your cheeks and your body shook with sobs. The world around you stopped turning, leaving you enveloped in a flood of your own pain. Your chest hurt, feeling as if it was filled with cement. You felt lightheaded, gasping for air between sobs.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t keep living like this. You were in so much pain you couldn’t handle it. You weren’t strong enough, it was going to kill you. Everything you felt raging inside of you was all-consuming, your own thoughts so loud and relentless, screaming at you all day and night to the point where you figured only death would release you from them. You were stuck in your own head, and the fight to swim to the surface was too exhausting to bear.

You felt movement, and the space on the bed beside you shifted as Elrond sat down. He wrapped one arm around you, cradling your head with the other and bringing you close to him. “It’s ok,” He murmured, stroking your hair and holding you as you sobbed uncontrollably. “It’s ok, little one. Let it all out.”

And so you did. You let yourself feel everything – the guilt of neglecting your job, the pain in seeing your friends give up their attempts to see you, the hateful thoughts about yourself that clouded your mind telling you that you were deserving of nothing good, all of it. You clung onto Elrond as you cried, feeling so overwhelmed that you may implode. “I can’t… I can’t, I can’t,” You managed to choke out between sobs. “It hurts so much, please make it stop, please make it stop, Ada.”

Ada.

You had never called Elrond ‘father’ before, always using his name or title. You did not want those around you to think you were getting special treatment, or to seem like you were expecting it. Before you could gather your wits and apologise, you felt him hold you tighter.

“It’s ok,” He repeated. “You are safe. You are strong. You can overcome this, but not if it is burning up inside of you. Let it all out, my dear.”

You nodded into his chest, your relentless chants of I can’t fading out as you slowly regained control over your breathing. The raging sea that was storming inside of you calmed down to a simple rocky surface, the weight of everything lifting off of your chest slightly. You stayed there for a few minutes, letting Elrond hold you close as you calmed down.

He had done so much for you, more than you could ever hope to repay him for. Yet here you were, crying like a child despite the perfect, safe life he had worked so hard to provide you with. What a fucking ungrateful brat, you thought to yourself bitterly, allowing yourself a cruel sob.

You managed to peel yourself away from Elrond, sitting upright. You put your head in your hands, wiping away your tears as you took a shaky breath. His hand remained over your shoulder, rubbing in comforting circles. “I am sorry.” He murmured.

You laughed half-heartedly. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who should be sorry, not you.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Elrond said softly, but firmly. “I am sorry because I should have noticed this sooner. I should have noticed that you were hurting and found a way to help before you suffered this much. I failed you.”

You pried your head from your hands and turned to face him, and your heart nearly broke. The noble elven lord looked so sad, so guilt-ridden at the sight before him. An elf who had seen thousands of years of suffering, who had lived through the most brutal wars in Arda’s history, looked more defeated than ever as he looked at you. That guilt churned inside you again as you realised you had caused this. “You have far from failed me, Elrond.” You said quietly. “You have given me everything, more than I could ever ask for. I have no reason to be this sad or act this way.”

Elrond cocked his head, brushing the hair out of your face. “Is that what you truly think?” He asked gently. “That you need a reason to be sad?”

“Uh…yes?” You said, puzzled. “There is nothing in my life that is going wrong, or even remotely horrible. I have not been traumatised by battle or had to run from a sword. My village was never raided by orcs, I have never known hunger nor harsh winters. I truly have nothing to be sad about.”

Elrond paused for a minute, contemplating your words. “Just because you have not fought in war does not mean you have not suffered,” He said. “You are a young elf; you are allowed to feel whatever your heart feels. Circumstance does not spare you from pain or suffering. Things like this are not always the result of war or hardship. Sometimes we hurt for no reason, and no amount of explanation will reassure us nor will it change what we feel in our hearts.”

You sighed, cheeks damp. “It doesn’t make me feel any less ungrateful. I’ve never even been courted. Nobody has ever looked at me like that. All of my friends have been shown that type of affection, except me. I don’t understand what makes them worthy of it and not me.”

“You are young, little one. You have centuries ahead of you to find whatever love you may wish. You’ve only met a fraction of the people who will come to love you. Give yourself time, allow yourself to be comfortable in your own skin. I know it is easier said than done. If you cannot be at peace with yourself, no soul in this world can fill that void for you.”

You swallowed thickly. He was right – you felt like a stranger in your own body. Like the bones and flesh beneath your skin belonged to another. But sitting here with the elf who had been a pillar in your life for as long as you remembered, you began to feel more at ease within yourself. You sniffled, wiping your tears from your face with the back of your hand. Elrond reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing at your cheeks gently.

“Someday,” he said softly. “Someone will love you exactly how you deserve to be loved. I did not meet my wife until I was 1759, and even then, I loved her in secret for many a century.”

 Arwen had told you stories of her mother. It always brought a deep sadness to her eyes as she remembered her mother’s grim departure to the Undying Lands. You knew the tale all too well, for talk of the tragedy Elrond had been faced with travelled all the way to the Woodland realm. When you had first arrived in Rivendell, the wound Celebrían’s departure had cut him deep. It took years of you getting to know him before his eyes went from hollow to bright. One day, you had snuck a book from the library on the elves of the First Age. It was then when you stumbled across Elrond’s story, a sad pain in your heart as you read about him and his brother’s early years during the wars and the period that followed.

“I’m sorry,” you said after a few moments. “About your wife. And everything that has happened to you.” You weren’t sure what had prompted you to say that, for you blurted out the words before you could stop and think. Elrond had never discussed his past with you besides the occasional story told in the grand scheme of sharing wisdom and life lessons.

But there was no defensiveness, for Elrond simply put a hand on your shoulder. “Thank you,” was all he said.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being your hitched breath as you calmed your breathing down. A slight weight had been lifted off your shoulders, lessening the crushing feeling in your chest. For weeks, you had feared Elrond finding out about your depressive episode and thinking less of you for it. Deep down, you knew that was illogical, but the thought had haunted you nonetheless.

“I want to help you, my dear,” Elrond said, grabbing your hands and looking at you with all the love and care a father would. “But only if you will have it. If you do not wish for my interference, I understand and will be there if you need me. But I urge you not to walk this path alone.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do,” you said quietly.

“I cannot change what you feel in your heart and soul. But there are little changes, perhaps, we can make to get you on the right path. If you would like, I shall have our breakfasts delivered to your room, and I may join you for breakfast and then we can go on a walk. It does not have to be long, nor strenuous. Simply something to get you up and moving at the beginning of the day. Once you climb that step, you may find things become much easier.”

Emotion clogged your throat. “You would do that for me?”

Elrond gave you a gentle smile. “For you, anything. I may not have fathered you, but you are my family. And I will move heaven and earth just to make you closer to the stars if that’s what would make you happy.”

[leafoflemon]

Practice Run - Part 2, Chapter 4

[Part 1, Chp. 1], [Part 1, Chp. 2], [Part 1, Chp. 3], [P2, Chp. 5] [P2, Chp. 6], [P3, Chp. 7], [P3, Chp. 8], [P3, Chp. 9], [P3, Chp. 10]

Thank you so much to everyone who read the first part of Practice Run, it’s really given me more motivation and support to keep going with this! As promised, here is part two, and here is where I plan for things to really kick off. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Dedicated to the Server of Villains!

Summary: "You had been a part of the league for almost a year now, yet Jin Bubaigawara, also known as Twice, had no idea how to tell you how he felt."

Twice x reader | Twice x fem!reader | Mostly fluff, some angst | Jin Bubaigawara | Toga Himiko | League of Villains

Word Count: ~1.9k

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It was a couple of hours later that Twice had finally booked a couple of rooms at the motel he found. After some deliberation before the league dispersed, he felt bad to leave Toga out to go fend for herself, so he bought a third room for her. He checked his funds nervously to see how many days they could spend there.

Alright, so…maybe three nights for three rooms should do, but after that, we might have to cut down to two rooms to save money for a couple more days. Maybe Toga and Y/N could share a room together since they’re both girls--

Or maybe me and Y/N can share one if I ask her out?

Twice blushed and pocketed his phone. Then he saw you and Toga both walking towards him from down the street, and he quickly tried to regain his cool. Now that he was on the streets, he was no longer Twice; he was just Jin Bubaigawara, and he didn’t have his villain costume or mask to hide in.

“Jin-kun! Are the rooms ready?” Toga called out. 

“Why else would I be standing here?-- Yeah, go on in,” said Jin, and handed her the key.

Toga took the key and left, giggling the whole way. It seemed like she was the happiest to have a place all to herself. Being constantly surrounded by a bunch of serious adults with big plans of world domination could get a bit drab after a while, so she was looking forward to this break.

“It was so kind of you to get her a room!” you praised Jin. 

“O-oh, it’s no big deal!” he smiled. “Really! She’s been my best friend for a long time, so I couldn’t let her just get kicked to the side of the street-- Not that I don’t think she’s strong and capable!-- She can totally kick ass!-- But I’m not just gonna leave a friend hangin’.”

“You’re a wonderful friend, Jin,” you told him. You couldn’t believe how much praise you were giving this man in one morning, and you were starting to fear that he would think that you were being weird, but based on his expression, he didn’t seem to mind. 

Jin kept his composure through the flattery, to which he was super proud of himself for, and held his hands behind his head. “You’re absolutely right, no one’s as wonderful as me,” he joked as one of his confident personalities took over-- that is until you extended your hand out, which switched him to flustered and confused.

Is she trying to shake my hand? Or hold my hand?! What?

“Could I have the key to my room?” you asked.

“OH! Uh, yeah, definitely, of course!” Jin replied and gladly handed it over. “My bad.”

What the hell was I thinking?

Don’t worry about it, easy mistake! 

She probably thinks I’m an idiot.

No way! Look how happy she looks!

“Thank you so much, again!” you said. “I’ll go check out the place right now!”

“No problem-- Yeah, get out of here!” 

“Thanks!” You worried that you were thanking him too much, but you really were grateful. You didn’t expect the league to be driven out of their hideout so abruptly, so you didn’t have any plans or preparations for this situation. You felt incredibly lucky; especially since it was Jin who offered you a place to go. 

Since everyone was settling in, Jin figured he’d do the same and check out his room. He walked up to the third floor and opened the door to see what he’d be walking into. “Yeah…kinda a dump,” he remembered. There were a few cracks in the drywall, dusty corners, dim lighting, and a couple of stains on the carpet by the bed that he actively chose to ignore. But, there was certainly plenty of space, and outside the window was a perfect, full view of the streets below (although there was an annoyingly loud HVAC right beside it). He tossed a bag of clothes at the foot of his bed and threw himself on top of the sheets. 

The beds weren’t too bad, either. Firm, comfortable, and the sheets seemed pretty clean. Jin turned on his side and saw that there was also plenty of more room for a second person, and he grinned at the thought of you lying there. 

“Alright,” he said to himself and sat up. If he was going to get you to share a bed with him, he had to ask you out, and in order to do that, he had to properly learn how to romance you. He was finally alone and had the whole place to himself. 

This is still okay, right?

Of course it is, we’re doing this for her!

You’re doing this for yourself, dumbass.

But imagine how happy you could make her!

But imagine how creeped out she’d be if she found out about this.

“Shut up, shut up!” Jin snapped at his thoughts. “Just let me have this, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna get weird. I just…I just need to talk to her.”

Riiiiight. Just talk, sure.

“Shut up,” he warned himself, then took a deep breath. He stood up out of bed and outstretched his arms yet again, forming an exact duplicate of you.

“S-so hey, Y/N, do you think you could, um, help me again?”

“Hm?” she seemed confused.

“Wait, shit, a different clone. Yeah, you only have your original’s memories, so you don’t remember last night…” he sighed.

Your clone knew she was a copy of you. All of your clones always did, and they never resented that fact. You have always loved Twice so much, so whether you were a copy or the real deal, either way, you were always willing to be there for him. “Well, whatever it was, I’m sure I’ll be happy to help you again!”

“Alright, so…last night, um. I asked if you could help me practice talking to women?-- You’re so kind and nice!-- Er, and so I thought, hopefully, you’d be okay with that?”

“Of course!” your clone replied. “But why don’t you ask the original me?” 

“Well, the other you is probably busy and uhh--” he really couldn’t think of a proper explanation that wouldn’t give it all away. “--is asking that question really important?!”

“Okay, okay, I won’t push it,” she relented and chuckled. She looked around to find a good place to sit. There was a couch by a television, and she politely took a seat there. She patted the space next to her to signal to Jin to come over, which he did. 

“Okay, so…ah, I don’t know where to start!”

“Let’s start off easy,” your clone offered. “Let’s say, hmm. Let’s say we’re… on a date. Hypothetically! So you can have some confidence that you already have a good start with this girl.” She felt shy putting herself into a fictional scenario with Jin, but she was willing to do whatever she could to support him.

“Alright, so we’re on a date--” Jin processed. “OR, UH, on a date with a girl, any girl!”

Please tell me I didn’t say that.

You didn’t say that!

You did.

“Um, y-yeah!” your clone replied. She cleared her throat. “Alright, so. You and your date have entered the room and sat down. What do you normally do when you have anyone, like a friend or a neighbor over?”

Jin paused silently, indicating that he had never been in that situation before either. “Hm. When I’m with the league, we usually talk about what places we want to rob or which heroes we hate the most,” he pondered. 

“That’s, um…a start. Depending on who you’re dating,” the clone replied with hesitation. She began to think as well about all the things that you and the league have done together. “We’ve watched Shigaraki and Spinner play video games, and we’ve joined them a few times,” she noted.

“Oh yeah,” he realized. “Fuck, do you remember that one time when they got Dabi to play that one fighting game and he was surprisingly good at it?”

“YEAH! And Shaigaraki got so pissed he decayed the TV?”

“I WORKED SO HARD TO STEAL THAT!-- And Kurogiri grounded him right after.”

“Oh my God, he did. You know how he hid the switch from Shigaraki?”

“Yeah!-- No way, how’d he do it?”

“He got Mr. Compress to put it into a marble.”

“That’s where it went?!-- That’s so stupid-- That’s genius!”

Some time had passed, and Jin and your clone talked about the league’s casual shenanigans for almost an hour, laughing their asses off. There was one point where they both were almost crying-laughing; it was a further back memory, something having to do with Shigaraki deleting someone’s save files and the hell that ensued after that. You were both breathless and needed water after that long conversation. 

“Now this is how you do a date,” your clone smiled wide before taking a swig from a bottle. 

Jin was shocked. The moment was so casual and relaxed, he completely forgot he was practicing for a date. He took a seat by you again and fidgeted with the cap of his water bottle and thought for a second. 

“Is everything alright?” the clone asked when she noticed that Jin was quiet. 

“Yeah, I’m totally fine!-- I’ve got a lot on my mind…”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Jin looked up at you, then down at the water again. That fluttering feeling was back in his chest, and he felt heat rise throughout his body. He nodded, and tried to meet your eyes again. “So…how do I actually ask someone out? So that…I could have a date just like this one?” 

Your clone rested her chin on her hand and considered the question for a little bit. “All I can say is be straightforward and honest with her.”

“...And what if it doesn’t work?”

“Then at least…you know how you both feel. You won’t have to constantly worry about butterflies in your stomach, or going out of your way to impress them. You could finally take it easy and find someone else who really cares about you...” The clone was speaking from your experience, your heart, and in a way, was psyching herself up to try to ask Jin out for you.

“Something I think I’m really struggling with is finding the right words to say…” Jin admitted. “I don’t know where to begin.”

The clone scooched just a little bit closer to Jin. “Well…tell me some of the first words that come to mind, and maybe I can help sort them out?”

The first words that come to mind?

You're hot.

You're so kind and considerate!

I want to hold you.

I want to be held by you.

I’m dying! Save me!!

Let me be here for you.

He was still way too nervous to let any of those words out. “I…I guess-- I still can't do this!” he exclaimed and stood up.

Your clone had an idea what was going to happen next. She didn't want to go, she didn't want this moment to end without any progress between him and you. “Wait, Jin, I--!” She started, but it was too late; the clone melted away.

Jin couldn’t turn around. Guilt and embarrassment immediately invaded him, and he stared forward, at a complete loss. 

I need a cigarette.

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To be continued...

[yiga-hellhole]

TFTK BONUS CHAPTER 5: DEPICTION OF THE DEMON LORD

sorry for the hold-up! i totally forgot to make a teaser illustration. anyway, a little bonus chapter to keep you all company while i work on the behemoth that is chapter 20. this one takes place between the events of chapters 11 and 13. say, didn't yuga promise a little someone else he'd get a portrait too..? the descriptions in this chapter are based on this BEAUTIFUL portrait by @renthehuman . keep it in mind as you read!!

thanks again to @bulgariansumo and @orfeoarte for betareading!!!

ao3 mirror

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Potent jealousy was festering in the Demon Lord since the portrait of his co-lieutenant was finished. It was beautiful, indeed, but he hadn’t missed one crucial detail. When first meeting Yuga, it was him she flocked to instantly, singing praises of his beauty, and urging for him to be painted. And though indeed, he was the first to be sketched, the first full-fledged painting was not in his honor. 

Nevertheless, this affront was soothed most thoroughly by the spoiling he received after. Zant’s portrait had hardly been framed or manicured fingers were already rapping on his door, urging him to join him in his workspace for his next masterpiece. Yuga felt the urge to paint like she did hunger or fatigue and to be deprived of it turned her jittery and ravenous.

Of course, Ghirahim did not keep him waiting. He spent hours under the watchful, yet manic eye of the Lorian sorcerer, his form dancing across pages upon pages of sketching paper. After feeling like they had become properly acquainted (though, really, it felt far more like an excuse to spend more time ogling), Yuga set up her backdrop, and the two sussed out their composition.

Said brainstorming did not take long. Yuga wanted, most wholeheartedly, to capture beauty. In her eyes, beauty had uncountable forms. Pertaining to himself, Ghirahim thoroughly agreed with his definitions, but often, Yuga’s judgment over beauty and hideosity seemed… Haphazard. Loosey-goosey, if one would. Her fussiness over their backdrop was most apparent in this. They would only be stationed here in clear skies when the heavens were a vast, clear blue. 

Deciding on a subject was not particularly difficult. His reputation as a warrior was thoroughly known, in the flesh and through legend. In fact, it was all his previous portraiture, crude as it was, would focus on. Truly, the carnage he caused was beautiful, but his being – be it his sword or his scabbard, could not be excluded from this pride. Never had it been done justice before. In this portrait, the sensual, perfect form of Demon Lord Ghirahim, would be clear as day.

Perhaps a little too clear. Motivated partially by the desert heat, but mostly a drive to accentuate every fold of fat or muscle he had, they decided he would be depicted without even a shred of clothing.

There he lay, splayed alluringly on a fainting couch crowded by cushions, the dry desert heat wafting past his skin through the window behind him. Across him in the atelier was Yuga, half-seated on a wooden stool behind her canvas, her pencil scraping delicately, yet decisively, on parchment and canvas.

Just as the gentle sounds of graphite lulled him into a bit of comforting system maintenance, Yuga pulled him out of his haze with a clear of the throat. “So…”

Ghirahim turned his head to look at her, but quickly adjusted, remembering he was posing. “So?”

“I do hope you did not expect to spend the next few hours simply sitting in silence. Do you happen to be in the vein for a bit of a chat?”

Ghirahim met the playful smirk that peeked past the canvas with a cock of his brow. “You intend to wring information from a demon? Bold. I’ll have you know, I could have your soul for that.” 

Yuga rolled her eyes in response, slinking back behind the easel. “Then, say, you do snatch my soul from me. Who will paint you?”

Such an air of light bantering was impossible to pass on. He knew it well from his time at this court, and precisely how fine the line was between playful snipping and a threat upon one’s life. A line he fondly trampled. But with a woman like Yuga, whose well-groomed talons were as blood-drenched as his own, true peerdom nestled comfortably. 

He could say whatever the Hell he wanted. “I suppose I can afford to spare you until it’s finished.”

Shrieking laughter emitted from the Lorian. “Oh, wonderful! I’m being held hostage. Hanging around you lot becomes more and more quaint by the day!”

Ghirahim joined her in her amusement. Taking a moment to fiddle with the pearls ‘round his neck, he considered Yuga’s offer. He had a fickle generosity with his candor, preferring to either keep still or prattle on and on about the endless intrigue he’s accumulated in his many years of wandering the Surface. With those he had no ulterior motives for, he preferred to be silent. Still, he mused on. Wouldn’t it be boring to simply lay here for hours? He did plenty of that with their other lieutenant.

Yuga wasn’t the most trustworthy person, but… “Alright, then. I’ll bite. How can I sate your curiosities?”

“Ah, yes. I did not expect your secrecy to win over your ever-so-vain self, and I adore you this way!” Her face emerged from the side of the canvas once more, wagging the blunt end of her pencil at him in emphasis. “If you’ll allow me to ask, Demon Lord. It is precisely the matters related to your title that interest me. The Demon King you served before our Master, what was your life under him like? Anywhere near as luxurious as your current dwellings?”

Ghirahim squinted. Indeed, Gerudo Palace was a comfortable, sophisticated place. Yet, he felt a stab concealed in Yuga’s question. Did she assume that, millennia in the past, Demise’s dwelling was less grandiose? Forbid it all, did she insinuate she thought them primitive? “I don’t like the implications your question carries.”

Yuga gasped, waving a panicked hand under the canvas. “Forgive me! None were intended.”

His eyes wandered as his temper fizzled out. The atelier was as cluttered and stamp full of colors as he imagined the inside of Yuga’s mind to be. He took the new awkward silence as meditative and traced the colorful patterns on the ceiling frescoes, marking complete and total perfection. Not a single tile was off-size. How very typical.

Though painting was the Lorian’s forte – a practice by all means best done in silence – Ghirahim could tell the quiet was making her anxious. He decided to shake his grievances off. “Let me reminisce, nonetheless. Hmm…” A smirk returned to his face as he saw a curl-framed face peep excitedly at him. “Though loyal to my King I may be, I can’t really speak on His rule beyond the rift. I am strictly a Surface demon, you see. The Palace built above the rift through which we entered was grand, for certain. Oh, how it eclipsed the sun from every angle! Though lacking in the pointless, indulgent little comforts I have now, life there was truly paradise.”

It was then that Yuga rose, quietly hovering toward him to assess him from up close. Ghirahim’s eyes fluttered shut as soft, well-groomed hands found his chin, turning his face to marvel at his angles. He allowed her.

“My Master left me to my whims, to go wherever I pleased, do as I pleased, so long as I returned to His hand when the time for battle came. Perhaps I didn’t have the world in silks and jewels, nor an artisan to paint my portrait,” he smiled, peeking past his lashes to the woman hovering over him in close inspection. Nails scraped past his skin when Yuga’s hand retracted. “But I could truly be myself under His rule. After He fell… Oh, it was below me, truly. How many thousands of years I spent wandering, trying to keep patchwork tribes from tearing each other apart! Though I grew used to such a bare lifestyle, never did I enjoy it. Yes, this indulgence is a welcome change.”

In his wallowing, Yuga returned to her place, gliding graphite past her canvas. Sharp eyes met, and his painter pressed the end of her brush on a sore spot. “There remains something you miss, doesn’t there?”

“Of course. I am a Blade, Yuga. I am meant to be wielded. And now I am not.”

The lines of her brows raised, Yuga spoke in praise, gesturing to his form across her. “Yet you’ve made quite the image for yourself, standing here as a man!”

“I know, my friend,” he spoke with a sigh, rubbing his legs together in a bit of a tic. “I can only afford to show myself as pure perfection. But this scabbard is a mere hobby compared to my true self. I do wish Master could show you soon, the true glory of me, my edges carving through sunbeams and veins alike.”

Hands clasped together, Yuga smiled with delight. Her eyes then shot back open, besieged by another burst of energy that she immediately directed to her canvas. “Oh! I can hardly wait.”

Another day was reserved for the careful study of his facial features, as he’d done with Zant. Eyes bored into him stiffly enough to make the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. Somewhere, he suspected this session was less about actual study, and moreso to tingle the Sorcerer’s endless appetite for otherworldly beauty. Hylian physiques must have started to bore him.

Yuga sat in front of him atop a footstool, hunched over a sketchbook with a curvature to his spine inadvisable for anyone his age (and decades younger, for that matter). Ghirahim would have found his sheer concentration offputting, were he not well and truly drunk on the delicacy of admiration.

For both their sakes, though, he ought to snap the Lorian out of it before he lost his marbles. Taking advantage of a break where Yuga was more fixated on his sketches than his model, Ghirahim spoke. “You say I am to sit still for this part, but surely, I can lend an ear.”

Roused immediately by the lilt of his silvery voice, Yuga looked up to him with a playful grimace. “Devilish thing. Is it safe for me to impart more than simple small-talk on you?”

Ghirahim scoffed. Was more persuasion truly in order? “I told you of life at my own Court. Won’t you share some of yours?”

Having lost some of his feverish drive, Yuga lowered his gaze to his sketchbook, scribbling away. “Oh, I suppose it’s harmless enough.”

His eyes calmly lidded, Yuga settled into a more lighthearted pace. Juggling the weaving of a tale and sketching a model seemingly lulled him into a more pleasant mood. Or, perhaps, a smothered one, only staving off an inevitable explosion of creative impulse. Whether his delight to talk about himself would keep that mess at bay remained to be seen – but, Ghirahim knew, their egos were of nigh equal size. He had an idea that it would hold.

So, Yuga recollected his life’s tale, for as far as he wished to share it.“My usurpation was a slow one… If it was one at all. I thought to stretch out my time as an advisor until little Hilda rose to the throne, and I am thoroughly satisfied with my decision.”

Ghirahim made a further inquiry with a glance and a subtle rise of the brow, but even movement so small got him a scolding. One flick on his sitter’s bare skin later, Yuga resumed his tale. “It’s not like my home in Sakusa was lacking in any way, but it was less… Indulgent. And by far more egalitarian! A world where your every need is accounted for by servants was fully alien to me, and I took to it readily. I do so enjoy to preen, and be preened, as you know.”

Ghirahim responded with a loaded hum, bringing a smile to Yuga’s face. “Times were drastic, with monsters running rampant and more and more pieces of our land falling to the void. But the Court was a realm all of its own, where I could mingle with courtiers, advisors, and scholars all I pleased. It was hard work, certainly – I juggled jobs from royal portraiture to the young Lady’s education, but tasks outside my contract took far more of my time, I reckon. Gossip is never mere gossip in a Palace, as you know. It is veritable politics!”

Chewing oh-so-undignified, absentmindedly on the blunt end of his pencil, Yuga hummed, mulling on his earlier confidence. “No, I took to simply enjoying my time until the ruling King and Queen, so fortunately, passed on early. My poor, beautiful Hilda, only fourteen winters she’d lived before her orphaning. Of course, a ruler so young needed a regent… How lucky I was! I hadn’t even plotted their demise, yet I benefited from it, all the more,” Yuga cackled to himself, before a more manic spark lit in his eye. Graphite crumbled under the pressure of his pushing against the canvas. Each wild stroke of his pencil rushed forebodingly against the paper, interrupted only by the grating squeaks of scrawling. “And how satisfying it was to gaze down at those who glared at me with judging eyes. One so lowly, marshes-born, now puppeteering their Princess at the throne.”

Paper wore underneath the unrelenting push of his straining, bony hands, and Yuga snapped back to focus with a gasp. “... Oh, look at me! I’ve gotten your jawline all wrong. I’ll need another page…”

For once, the lamentless Lorian seemed embarrassed about his burst of anger, in how hastily he cowered by his supply cabinet. After the rustling of paper died out, Ghirahim addressed him carefully. “I take it your fortune, too, did not last, then.”

“No, it did not,” Yuga sighed, again taking his seat beside him. His expression softened, then, an overcast sky clearing out into white puffy clouds, the sun concealed behind them. “But under this King… I don’t know, Ghirahim. I have a good feeling. Apart we may be, though it pains me, I feel just as confident by his side.”

Apart. Yuga had not divulged the full details, but his bond with the Master was a peculiar one, in his time. A soul-bond, not unlike his own with Demise… And though he could see it pained Yuga to cast its possibility aside, he made peace with it, somehow. A bond he once lived for, now reduced to a nostalgic daydream, and compromised through mere company. Ghirahim was perplexed. How could anyone manage such a thing?

Surely, he would not have to.

That following day was once again one of scolding. A crackled bruise, perilously just barely concealed by the strap of his top, besmirched his collarbone. Of course, he could rid himself of such petty ailments in an instant, but he had a bit of a weak spot for such souvenirs of affection. 

Yuga did not share the sentiment. The second he laid his bare body on the swooning couch, the Lorian let out a scandalized cry and demanded he get rid of it. Ghirahim obeyed his request, mostly because he feared the bulging vein at his painter’s neck would burst if he didn’t.

With everything once again perfectly going according to Yuga’s wishes, their usual lighthearted chatter resumed. Ghirahim shimmied comfortably into the pillows. Frankly, Yuga wasn’t the only one intently studying an object of interest. With so much eye contact, Ghirahim took the opportunity to get a good look at his painter. He was aged, certainly, but not thoroughly so. Careful maintenance of his skin resulted in a rich sheen, but even that could not stave off the tellings of papery wrinkles at his eyes and nose. Above all, Yuga was excessively flashy, adorning himself with different colors each day. Today, a fresh gradient of lime-green and blue seemed to be his idea of ‘tasteful’. 

Something else caught his eye, though. A little something that has irked him nearly every time they met. “You know, Yuga, something has been bothering me.”

Yuga laughed, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Have mercy, no!”

“It concerns your choice of accessories,” Ghirahim replied, snagging his curious gaze with a squint of his eyes. “I daresay, either I’m as much of a trendsetter as I expected to be, or you think to steal my thunder.”

For a moment, Yuga seemed confused. His eyes similarly squinted, bringing more and more of those flashy cosmetics on his lids to light. Realization struck, and he exclaimed a laugh. “The earrings, you mean? I thought it was a funny coincidence myself,” he snickered, prodding at the cyan gem dangling from his earlobe. “I assure you, I’ve owned these years before meeting your lovely acquaintance.���

Ghirahim puckered his lips, pondering. “And yet, I don’t consider the two of us close enough companions to start matching our looks.”

Yuga quickly retreated behind his canvas. “Don’t be so drastic, dear boy,” he chimed, waving a clawed hand past the canvas to pacify him. “Besides, they’re not entirely similar. Yours are perfect diamonds, whereas mine are more teardrop-shaped.”

“Not everyone has your painter’s eye, Yuga, the layfolk won’t notice such details,” Ghirahim sighed, now more playful than making any serious demands. Really, he just wanted to confirm the coincidence… But Yuga always had a habit of running away with his every word, out of sheer fondness of his company. At least, he could only assume. Still. in that fondness, blunders arose. Ghirahim wanted this one corrected post-haste. “Speaking of. You seem to be making quite a few assumptions about my age.”

Yuga’s hiding was quickly cut short. Red curls bounced into view as he quickly peeked past the canvas, his mouth tight with embarrassment. “Am I? You must beg my pardon, but if you are my senior, then I must ask you to refer me to whoever blends your cosmetics.”

Ghirahim hummed, idly observing his pearlescent nails. He truly did prefer being in control of the conversation! “I assume you are no older than… Give or take, fifteen-thousand. Are you?” He drawled, cocking his brow with a smirk.

Yuga’s eyes widened, a gasp escaping him as he hurried back to his painting. If the revealing of his age seemed to motivate him into a burst of inspiration… Well, it was a worrying idea. Ever-astounded, Yuga continued to babble. “My! Demon lifespans, of course. No, I regret to say I’ve not even walked this life for a century. I must seem positively juvenile to you!”

Dropping back into his practiced pose, Ghirahim let out a laugh. “No comment,” he said at last, bullying his companion into an effective silence.

With the campaign for Death Mountain on the horizon, their free hours grew fewer and fewer, as did the opportunities to meet up during Yuga’s preferred hours of lighting. That day was one of rare fortune where they had three hours to spend under the bright afternoon sun – and not a minute more. Major qualms arose that day when Ghirahim made a last-minute adjustment to his accessory; a gift, he claimed. Yuga cared absolutely none for it. He was too proud of the rendering on his trademark blue diamond earring and refused to paint over it for simple pearls and larimars. 

And so, the sword spirit lay there huffing and grumbling, leaving his portraitist to work on everything except the insufferable pout he was giving him.

To make matters worse, Ghirahim interjected with another inconvenience. “Ah, yes. My apologies, I forgot to tell you. I’ve gotten a little tangled up and double-booked. Zant might drop by for a visit.”

Not looking up from his canvas, Yuga smeared more purples together on his palette. “So long as you stay still, you can invite the whole palace over, for all I care.”

As foretold, an hour into their appointment, a knock at the door caught them both by surprise. After the chime of Yuga’s response, the door opened, and Zant slipped through.

… Who immediately gasped in scandal over the scene before him. “Ghirahim,” he exclaimed, approaching the canvas timidly to hide from him, finding his depiction easier to shelter with. “I understood that you were to model for your portrait, but… A nude!? ”

“Indeed,” Ghirahim laughed, tilting his head coquettishly. “Yuga and I decided extravagant clothing would only distract from my features. This form is far more representative of me, no?”

Zant seemingly mustered up the courage to face him, as he stepped out into the open. What a calf! They’ve bedded before, what was the issue now? “Well! Such a portrait is made to be viewed, is it not? Would you have yourself displayed in such a way, for others to see?”

Ghirahim was now more amused by his bugging than annoyed. This was no standard prudishness, there was a weakness somewhere. A soft underbelly just begging to be jabbed into. “If I did not, I wouldn’t be lying here as we speak. I have the feeling you have an issue with it, though.”

And there was the reaction he hoped for! Zant’s cheeks flushed instantly, a stammer rising from his throat. His hands retreated quickly in his sleeves, a tassel or two yanked inside each for nervous fingers to fiddle with. “Issues? No, no strict objections! I simply… If you were to, say, bare yourself, before those outside of me, I would at least wish to hear about it beforehand!”

Unimpressed, but committed to his bullying, Ghirahim cocked a brow. “Mm. And, were I to tell you, would you forbid me from doing as I wish? Do you demand such strict monogamy from me?”

“You are too hasty! Now, of course, as your companion, I would have certain… Inhibitions, about,” Zant rambled anxiously, until he suddenly remembered his whereabouts. His helmet quickly clattered to cover his face. “Must we do this in front of Yuga?”

Yuga responded with great nonchalance, perfectly masking his intrigue with the carefree dapping of his brush. “Oh, pretend I’m not here.”

Immediately Zant whipped around, highly agitated. “As if! Gossiping fiend you are, Lord of Lorule!” Crossing his arms with a huff, Zant seemed to take a moment to cool down. Perhaps the sun bothered him – it was noon, after all, and the room far too bright for his Twilit complexion. “Fine. Paint away, it is no concern of mine. Ghira and I will resume this conversation at a later time.”

Ghirahim smirked, endeared by the nickname that slipped his tongue. “I have all the time in the world now.”

His tranquility from seconds ago faded very quickly. “Your distaste for privacy never fails to baffle me!”

Feeling victorious, Ghirahim finally released him from his teasing and sunk back comfortably into the sofa. “Of course. Well, what did you need me for, anyway?”

With a bit of a whine, Zant composed himself. His arms dropped back down to his sides in an effort to seem calm, and he approached. “I was hoping to pen myself into your schedule – We’ll need an entire day, after all. And, well, I will be more than happy to enjoy your company after we settle this…”

Yuga hummed with great intrigue. “Planning something big, now, are you?”

Ghirahim leaned his head to try and peep past the canvas blocking the Lorian from his view. “Whatever happened to ‘not being here’, Lord Yuga?”

Pretending that exchange never happened, Zant continued. “As I said. I shall have my preparations done by to-morrow. Would the day after suit your schedule?”

His inner calendar visualized behind his eyelids, Ghirahim pondered. “Not a chance, I’m afraid,” Ghirahim shook his head. “Captain Imanu requested my presence on the training fields that noon.”

Their squabble to find a single day they could spend was challenging. The available dates were, after all, incredibly limited, and their time was short. In the end, he would have to shuffle around a few appointments to clear this single day… But none of his underlings would dare lift a finger to disagree with him, either way. Less enthused he was about divulging his agenda to both of them at once.

Zant seemed pleased by the end of it, though. Invigorated by the chance to show his forte, his confidence returned to him. Spinning on his heels, he turned to the mass of painting behind him. “With that out of the way… Yuga, you would not mind I have a proper glance at your work, would you? I am most curious.”

Engrossed in his work, Yuga scoffed, his brush halting for not even a second. Grasping its chewed end between his ring and pinky finger, he momentarily removed the spare brush held in his mouth to speak. “My permission matters little, I believe. You’d sneak a peek either way. It’s hardly a subtle canvas.”

Taking his defeated tone as a ‘yes’, Zant eagerly cantered over to join Yuga’s side behind the canvas, leaving nothing visible but his black trousers and gaudy slippers. He gasped, cooed, and hummed, watching his machinations intently. “Words escape me, Yuga. You truly depict him well.” The Lorian’s reply was one of smug satisfaction, but soon, cahoots bloomed. A bit more hushed, Zant leaned closer and pulled him along in his schemes. “But you must not forget to sculpt the bridge of his nose more delicately. It is one of his finer features, in his words and mine, after all.”

Yuga took to this bout of accolades with great enthusiasm. Words of praise poured from him with the same ease as he breathed. Zant was more discreet, then, taking to admiring him through the proxy of his portrait. But Ghirahim knew his intentions, and he struggled to conceal the flush it brought to his cheeks. To be admired so thoroughly by two at once, both with drastically different intentions… How intoxicating! How addictive! He was beauty incarnate, he was a lover. Moonbeam, stars, and sun; pearls and silver shimmers in the heat of the desert. He was art . The next hour-and-a-half would be torture on his composure, he could see it already.

Days flew by, hours to paint snuck between sessions of diplomacy and military training. Just when Ghirahim thought the painting to be finished, it seemed last-minute adjustments were in order. Yuga announced his displeasure with a shrill grunt, steam nearly spouting from his nostrils. “I have made up my mind!”

Never did Ghirahim think he could tire of lounging in such a comfortable pose. Thus he refused to do so, sitting straight in his usual spot. Arms folded, he watched Yuga lug around vase after vase to place them wherever he desired. “Whatever could be buzzing about in that skull of yours this time?”

Petals caught in his curls, Yuga looked disheveled as if he’d gotten caught in a rose bush. “Flowers! I need more of them. Far more!”

Oh, if only that clown could decide on where he wanted those vases already. The grinding of stone on stone was starting to grate Ghirahim’s ears. “Am I to develop a pollen allergy?”

Yuga snapped at him, dropping another armful of bouquets into a brass ewer. “I’ll make you develop rust if you don’t keep your snide little comments to yourself. Just let me work! ”

Wreathed in the cloud penstemons and marigolds, Ghirahim luxuriated for his final sitting. No matter if those flowers were like chains keeping him tied to this sofa. Yuga simply wasn’t the type of man you said no to. For now, he’d amuse himself with the gaunt shape hunched by the supply closet, mumbling and grumbling about running low on red pigments…

At long last, the painting was finished. His physique was intricately captured in warm tones, a picture so vivid the desert sun could be felt from its canvas alone, even in the chill of evening. Candles flickered against the just-dried varnish, the golden glow disturbed only by the shadows of the two men before it. Ghirahim had thrown his arms around Yuga’s shoulder in a side-hug, giddy as he was about the massive stroking of his ego. Even now, Yuga stood cooing and complimenting him, fiddling with his hair and rubbing over his gloves. 

Yet he unlatched himself very quickly when the door creaked open, an unlikely, massive form ducking through. King Ganondorf Dragmire stood at the doorway, his expression gruff, but with a light spark of intrigue.

“I heard tell of another portrait,” he said, causing Ghirahim’s core to drop heavily in his chest.

Yuga, on the other hand, was nothing but excessively fair-tempered. “Ah, Milord! Perfect timing. I just had it framed!”

“Master Ganondorf,” he stammered. Ghirahim found a sudden heat rise in his chest. Embarrassed, he could never be, but suddenly, he found himself worried about such a depiction. Already he was uncertain how the Demon King would approve of such a vain subject as portraiture… But one so revealing? Among the audience of his form, displayed so lavishly, he hadn’t expected his Master. At least, not until he could estimate his reaction! 

The redness in his cheeks made his life that much more miserable when, concealed behind Ganondorf’s massive form, Zant slipped into the atelier, his hands folded at his back. Ghirahim gritted his teeth, pointedly avoiding the Twili’s gaze. He could still turn this around! “How honored I am to meet you at this unveiling! It’s a gorgeous painting, wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed,” Ganondorf rumbled, marching over to stand by his side. The first hints of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his eyes explored the painting, drinking in its sandy yellows and warm purples. With one blink of heavy lids, his eyes turned to the blade beside him. “It suits you, Ghirahim.”

It suited him. That it did! But how intimately did his Master understand? How his sensuality was within his reach, if only he would call upon it? His head turned to a misty whirlpool all on its own, swimming with thoughts of past affections and potential ones in the future. Now Ganondorf not only acknowledged but praised this side of him. They viewed this masterpiece in joint silence, and Ghirahim thought to keep it that way, lest he fumbled any future chances at intimacy.

A clear of the throat immediately snapped Ghirahim back to reality. His co-lieutenants seemed similarly affected. Though Ganondorf’s expression darkened, it looked almost like compensation… Did he imagine the darkened red over his ears and nose? A trick of the candlelight? No, Master. You cannot hide any temperature rises from this sword. 

Yet any smugness was quickly stifled by the Demon King’s words. “I am aware Lord Yuga performs his best when I leave him to vent his creative pursuits. However, Blade, do not let me notice this… Side project, burdening the upcoming campaign.”

Ghirahim quickly shook his head, appeasing him with a bow. “I would not dream of it, Master.”

Ganondorf seemed satisfied with the answer. He took one last look at the painting, then at the men responsible for it, and with a curt nod, turned to make his leave.

They stood in a polite line before the painting, all half-bowing to salute their King farewell. With Ganondorf now halfway down the hall, the concept of decorum became entirely alien to Ghirahim. He yanked Zant down by the sleeve, prompting him to shriek, as he hissed with equal ire and mirth into his ear. “You brought him here, didn’t you, you villain?”

Zant’s fear quickly turned to amusement. “What a mischief-maker you take me for! I only mentioned off-handedly that your portrait was finished, and his curiosity took him for a walk on his own accord!”

“Mmmh… How convenient that would be for me!” Ghirahim snarled, baring his teeth. Zant yelped once more when his ear was tugged. “Such praise and interest from my Master, unprovoked? You try to sell dreams to me.”

Shaking himself free, Zant responded to his ramblings with a grin, his teeth like spikes jutting out from his gums with a meaty shk. He loomed toward him, pressing his lips to where Ghirahim’s hair draped between his ear and his temple and crooned. “I could pinch you, and see if you wake…”

A subtle gesture of his head toward Yuga served to remind Zant they were not alone, his irrepressible affections once again making him forget all about his sense of honor. The shrill laughter that followed almost drowned out the mechanical whirring of a helmet, hastily assembled over a flushing face.

Almost.

[passanima]

tag from foot2rue is gay, here’s the receipt, season 3

1/ gabriel spend time with his girlfriend and guess who’s mad about it? the whole team is upset because he has less time to train now; but the first to react and who feel the strongest about it is still tag

2/ BEN IS BACK (dude tag had a visible crush on in s1) and he’s the only one that looks happy about it and they break away from the rest of the group to talk one on one, ben listening to tag’s problems and offering advices. bonus points because tag doesn’t ask any of his teammates for advices (not his bestie or his girlfriend)

3/ they bond over them both being the captain of their teams, the difficulties in the responsability... and tag reacts a bit too strongly when ben says he has to go home now, asking (sounding way too desperate, boy, come on) him to stay a bit longer. the WHOLE vibe when they were talking alone felt incredibly soft from tag’s side and you could explain it as just nostalgia and being happy to see a friend after a long time... expect they weren’t friends but rivals! and ben clearly doesn’t feel the same way i’m so embarrassed for tag

4/ his BEST FRIEND notice how sullen he’s been in the 2 hours since ben left... this boy is yearning for real

5/ ben replace one of their players in a match but because the rest of the team hates him it goes poorly (hmmm sounds familiar) then they hear a rumor that he’s the one behind tag’s accident and they all get mad at him, not giving him time to explain... expect tag. who refuse to believe it and puts his faith in ben. he was, of course, right about that, but in this situation he had no reason to believe ben (the guy has a really bad reputation) yet didn’t hesitate A SECOND wow... that sure is something

6/ the trutst at least is reciprocal because when tag, in the middle of the match, orders ben to do something, he just nods and do so without the need for an explanation or getting annoyed (like some of the other players) and i didn’t expect it as they’re both captains and so could butthead about who’s in charge and ben having a strong personality... it was nice. THEN ben gives advice on how to play and this time it’s tag who decide to put his pride aside as captain and follow him. you see slight hesitation on his face but he does it anyway. IT’S HUGE idk what to tell you, tag can be really stubborn in his bad decisions and gets mad really fast when things don’t go his way so wow again!

7/ listen... i can’t even explain this one cause you need the visuals but. tag trust ben with an insane move, where ben could easily let go at the worst time and hurt him. and he does so while SMILING. not a once of doubt for this boy in his mind. HIS EX-NEMESIS. there would be no story without weirdly earnest 13 y/o gay boys, i’m emotional over this (and laughing cause it was an incredible visual; it’s at the end of ep 4 ig you’re curious about it)

8/ someone is rude to tag’s gf and he doesn’t react to it, even when she’s visibly upset and leave the room because of this, he just ignores her

9/ gabriel gets an opportunity, education wise, that means he will leave the team at the start of next year. and tag is not doing well. the rest of the team is cheering on gab, while tag exit the scene looking all sad... and emotional music starts playing while he looks on the horizon... next a flashback of their moments together the two of them... and tag cries all alone

it makes sense because they’ve known each other their whole life(?)(or most) and are very close but damn. in comparizon gabriel isn’t at all bothered, due to being more rational (this does not mean they won’t see each other again) and riding the high of such big news. really makes you feel for tag

anyway, back on gay reading; it gives tag another reason to be more heartborken over this compared to gab

10/ HE FEELS SO BAD that he has no motivation to play the tournament and even SAYS SO openly to his teammates, i quote “without gabriel there’s no point”. there have been times when other players were at ricks of leaving the team and while annoyed, tag never reacted this badly to it before

holy shit he’s crying in front of everyone this time... they were trying to comfort him with “people leave sometimes, then they come back” and “you should be happy for him as his bestie” but it had the opposite effect on making tag feel like he’s being a shitty friend and he cannot hold back his tears... everyone is shocked of seeing him like this

11/ wasn’t gonna note this one cause it’s not that serious but then shit kept happening. this ep has tag being sick and he elects jeremy as his replacement (as team captain) which makes everyone go “uuuh” cause jeremy is so not made for the post. he fucks it up, of course, and ends up all alone until tag gets better. the team complains about him and tag is the only one who stays behind him the whole time (a bit like with ben... hmm)(tag sure easily relate to the type of guys who are in constant danger of being rejected). the “not serious” part is that at some point jeremy come to tag about the whole situation and they stare at each other smiling while using language that, in french, sounds very romantic (even if the context isn’t)(jeremy “t’es pas mal” tag “t’es pas mal non plus”)(literal “you’re not bad” context being the sport + social thing BUT the very common use of this phrase means finding someone attractive, and i laughed because... a second later tag is on his knees in front of jeremy, his hands on the boy legs. the body language and double meaning is really intense for a scene that should be just “i got your back” like what am i supposed to do with this?)

12/ jeremy complains about his relationship with samira for 2 seconds and tag first reaction is to shut him up with “that’s none of my buisness” which is weird for him as he’s usually there for his friends and chill about romance talk... well, when he’s not interested in the dude talking about it, that is

[reinemichele]

Okay, I was going to make this post the day it happened, but I was already really distraught & felt like typing it all out would just like push me over the edge, and I still had to survive NYE fireworks. I decided to at least wait until after the 1st, but then Life Things kept happening, so I didn't get around to it until now.

My righteous anger has mostly simmered down, so but I think it'll probably still get long, so this'll be another read more post. TW for mentions of animal death, emotional abuse, and declawing

To be 100% super duper crystal clear: I am entirely against declawing; it's unethical and cruel and inhumane. This will become abundantly clear as the post goes on, but I just have seen too many pointless disc hoarse posts filled with people who gleefully, willfully misinterpret posts for any reason to harass people. I'm not going to leave myself open to people who'd send me death threats without even reading the full post. As it is, I'm turning reblogs off bc I don't want my post about my cat dying to be reblogged, but if I need to I can turn anon/asks in general off.

So. At 11PM on the 29th of Dec my cat gets hurt, we get to the vet by 12:30, and by 3AM he died. We got home by 4:30AM and none of us could sleep. We were all still awake at 10AM, and dreading the fact that it was a 3-day weekend and we'd have to face all of it trapped with our thoughts without having our normal day-to-day routines to buffer the first 3 days.

We know a lot of energy vampire type people. Liars, manipulators, people who'd come over to our house just to steal something for funsies, abusers. One of my mom's sisters was an accessory to murder. The same one stole my mom's SSN to open credit cards with. I have more examples, but my family tree bullshit could be its own post. A lot of them are in our family and there's some my mom basically has to keep in contact with due to her job.

So, it's 10AM, and my mom is dreading the 2-5 energy-draining people who consistently text her all day long, no matter what's going on or how busy she is. She can be with a patient who's actively in the process of dying, and they'll just text her "?" repeatedly when she doesn't respond.

She decides to tell these people about our cat dying the night before, in hopes that they'll give her space. Unfortunately, abusers like these people love to violate unsaid boundaries like this, so nothing less than blocking numbers/turning off her phone would work. But it's a step towards being able to say "no" that I've been trying to help her with, so we're going to be proud of her for it.

I don't want to use this person's name because as shitty as they are, they deserve privacy, so I'm going to use her initial.

V . responds . "Oh. My sister is trying to rehome her cat, maybe you can take it?"

So let's go over the timeline again. 11PM on the 29th -> 10AM on the 30th. In less than 12 hours since our cat died, V is trying to shove her sister's cat at us. Please don't try to give her the benefit of the doubt or say she was trying to help us feel better. There's not a single thing this person does that comes without ulterior motives; I've known her since 2015. She goes to strangers' funerals so she can brag about it later. She doesn't feed her own cat wet food, not because she can't afford it, but because she'd rather buy cheap dry food at the dollar store and spend the entire rest of her money on herself, like going on cruises/vacations while I petsit her cat. (And use our own wet food for her cat because it's cruel and fucked up and genuinely a detriment to a cat's health to only feed them dry food). This suggestion was nothing short of an impulsive launch at an opportunity to make her life more convenient, by finding a new home for her sister's cat, so her sister would stop complaining or asking her to take the cat.

My family has always had pets, and I'm the youngest in our house, so by the time I was born, a lot of our pets were already getting old and sick (12-15 for dogs, 20-25 for cats). The first pet that died in my lifetime was our dog Killer, when I was 4. My dad had already died, so I didn't need any lies about going to live on a farm or something. And of course it's always sad, but we've always felt like the best thing you can do to ease that pain is take in a new pet and provide them with a home. You get mutual love and happiness from each other, and day by day it gets easier. But, like, you take in that new pet after maybe a month or so. Not a fucking day.

Before continuing, for some extra context, 2 of our cats already had been from V.

The first one, Joey, she only had for a few months before becoming convinced he was peeing all over the house (hint: it was her 20 yr old cat who had chronic kidney/urinary tract problems from being fed nothing but DRY FOOD FOR 20 YRS @%^#&*^*&@#) and offering him to my mom's sister, who ended up dying a few months after that. (We don't know why or how; coroner declined performing an autopsy.)

We call V and tell her what happened, because we don't know what to do with Joey. Her reaction is like, "Oh... hmm. Huh. That's really a shame. Let me know if you find someone who can take him."

As in, "NOT IT!"

They hang up and my mom stares blankly at her phone screen. I say we should just take him home instead of leaving him in the empty apartment and stressing about finding him a new owner.

Flash forward to December of 2020. V calls my mom crying, saying that her (now ex-)husband thinks their other cat, Smokey, peed on his expensive speakers and is threatening to divorce V unless they find a new home for Smokey. V says all the local shelters are full and when she looked into people who'll temporarily house cats for owners, they charge $200 per day. She says she needs to find Smokey a new home like, now. My mom says we'll help her find someone but V is like, her husband has Smokey locked in a cat carrier and says she won't be let out until they find her a new home, that kind of now. We're like, jesus fucking christ, silently. I mute my mom's phone and say "tell her we'll take her". I'm sure she would've said that anyway, but like, instinctual response to hearing the thing about the cat carrier.

(Btw, he divorced V the next year anyway. I wanted her to be away from him, because he's so abusive and mean. But it's so fucked up that he forced her to get rid of her cat with the threat/ultimatum of divorce, only to follow through with the threat anyway. He could've just divorced her and let her keep her cat!!! She had to deal with the heartbreak of a divorce without the comfort of a cat she spent 9 years with!!! He moved out of state, but every time I think about this, I wish I could go and break his kneecaps.)

The problem to that is that Smokey . is declawed . So she has to be separate from our other cats 24/7 for her own safety. None of our cats are very aggressive or get into "real" fights with each other, but they're still cats, with sharp teeth and claws, with predator instincts, who act on those instincts when they can tell another cat is weaker, whose instinct during a fight with another cat is to swipe at their stomach to disembowel them. That's not something you want to take a chance on. So Smokey is exclusively in my mom's bedroom. Over time, we've started to let her out for 20-30 minutes at a time with supervision, but that's the extent of what we can give her without putting her in danger, and it can't be done while doing chores like taking the trash out or doing the dishes. All because V declawed her fucking cats. (Not Joey, but only because he wasn't with her for very long.)

Okay, with that context established, let's go back to V texting us on Dec 30th.

Of course, we could rehome her to someone who didn't have other pets, but she spent 9 years with V, and has now spent 4 years with us. She's a 13 year old all-grey short-hair cat with a bald patch on her belly and on her front legs and below her ears, so it'd probably take a very long time to find someone who'd pick her over a cute kitten, and even longer stuck in a shelter if they had room. And if we had chosen not to be her permanent home, we would've been keeping her at arms' length the entire time, trying not to get attached.

How would that be fair to Smokey? She deserves a life where she spends as many days possible feeling wanted and loved and safe. That's what I set out to do, and I think I've achieved it as much as I possibly could, around her being declawed. I do love her and want her. And I do keep her safe, obviously. I spend as much time as I can with her; we cuddle, we play, we watch birds, I share food with her (when it's safe for cats, obv). With V she was always hiding under the bed and never meowed, just came out to eat. With us, she never hides, purrs non-stop, and is very very vocal. She gets wet food and treats, she sits in the middle of the bed like she owns the place. She gets to be a cat.

I leave my room to go check on my mom. She relays me the text. I say . "What the fuck is wrong with her? It hasn't even been a day."

I ask, "Is V's sister's cat declawed?"

We, like, talk about what a transparently selfish and inconsiderate person V is. I tell my mom I'm gonna try to sleep, but then I stop in the middle of the room.

It's a balancing act to watch out for 1 declawed cat with our other cats, so it would take more mental energy to strategize life around 2 declawed cats, especially with how often I'm asked to petsit. You have to factor in how much time you can spend out petsitting (I usually spend 5 hours there at a time), time you can spend with the Have Claws group of pets (including a dog), and time you can spend with the No Claws pet.

Despite the... misconceptions about cats being detached and aloof, they want (and need) to spend time with you. They want to cuddle, they want to hang out in the same room, they want to hear your voice, they want to play, they want to snooze in the presence of someone they feel safe around; they love you. Same as with dogs.

My mom says she'll find out.

I get some sleep, then I wake up. My mom tells me that no, V's sister's cat is not declawed; she can't find anyone in the state to do it. That's why she wants to rehome the cat.

",,,, How could anyone say that without being ashamed?"

My mom shrugs. "I don't know. I told her, 'wow, we're sitting here miserable because we wish we had our cat back, and your sister wants to get rid of hers because she can't mutilate it' I don't think she liked that because she stopped texting me back."

We laughed.

Silence is telling, you know? V's 20 year old cat died last year, and my mom and I spent months hoping to god that she wouldn't get a new cat, because we didn't want her to declaw it. She swore up and down she regretted doing it to her other cats and would never do it again, but she's also a liar. So after she did get a new cat, my mom and I have checked to see if she still has claws every time we go over. So far she does... but probably because V can't find anyone to do it either.

But then it stopped being so funny when I realized it was probably only a matter of time before one or both of them crossed state lines to look for a vet who'd do it. We can't exactly steal V's cat, but if we take in her sister's cat, we can save it from happening.

I don't really have a good way to finish this. We'd rather take in a cat off the street or from a shelter than have Three cats that came from the same asshole, but if V's sister does declaw her cat, we'll feel responsible for it happening, even if we know it's not our fault.

I just wanted to post about how fucking insane it is to try to pawn off your (sibling's) cat less than 24 hours after someone's cat died. She's almost 70 and has no mental illnesses; she knows better. She's just an asshole.

[angstymdzsthoughts]

I posted 238 times in 2022

226 posts created (95%)

12 posts reblogged (5%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mondengel

@mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess

@anjimimimoo

@last-in-line-for-hell

@therinde-dreams

I tagged 155 of my posts in 2022

Only 35% of my posts had no tags

#mdzs - 137 posts

#wei wuxian - 80 posts

#lan wangji - 56 posts

#reply - 53 posts

#character death - 26 posts

#lan xichen - 22 posts

#jiang cheng - 18 posts

#lack of reply - 17 posts

#lan sizhui - 13 posts

#angsty talks - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 108 characters

#i feel like the quality of writing slowly degraded the longer it went but i have no motivation to correct it

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

All the Wen Remnants want is to live in peace until their dying day, WWX enables that by creating a massive barrier over the Burial Mounds that makes time move faster for those within it.

The Sects finally lay seige to the Burial Mounds and break the barrier, they are stunned to discover the Burial Mounds are now a lush thriving paradise free of resentment, the Stygian Tiger Amulet now merely a powerless and rusted trinket.

JC is the one who discovers WWX had been manipulating time but LWJ is the one who discovers Suibian, a first class spiritual sword, massively aged and used as a gravemarker alongside Chengqing (that now has flowers growing out of the holes) for her master who died hundreds of years ago.

It started small. A way to speed up the crops growing so everyone could eat. In injury that would have taken months to heal only taking an hour. Speeding up the Burial Mounds slow recovery until it became a place where life was possible again.

No one noticed at first. The days felt like they were passing by normally. Of course A-Yuan shot up so quickly, all children do. Of course their elders felt slow and ache with all the hard work farming demanded. But then one of the women had a late in life pregnancy in her early forties. Barely a month after finding out she was expecting she birthed a healthy nine month old baby boy.

Wei Wuxian had already been working on a way to stop what was happening but Wen Qing had gone to him and asked "Would it really be so bad to leave it? We don't know how long we have until the other sects come for us. Let the elders spend their last days in peace and let the children grow until they can defend themselves."

284 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

#4

I saw fanfictions where Wei Ying was the secret son of Wen Rohan from the woman he loved. He recognized this and demanded him for himself (without explaining that this was his son), and the Jiangs handed him over to the beaten ones, believing that he was guilty. What if they go even further? Madame Yu is pleased to hand over the severed head of the "servant's son"...

WRH looking at the decapitated head of the young son he didnt know he had: ... This is the opposite of what I wanted.

293 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

#3

Since secretlyevil! is popular this week, I propose secretly evil mxy finds a ritual for temporary possession expecting that WWX will do his thing and he’ll wake up in a year as the ruler of the cultivation world. Instead he wakes up in the jingshisleeping next to hanguang-jun. Your bet if he confesses or he tries to take over wwx’s postcanon life…

Mo Xuanyu wasn't expecting to wake up next to one of the most beautiful men in the world. He had sort of been expecting two or three beautiful women given all the rumors of Wei Wuxian before he died. He was by no means complaining of course!

A quick look around the room led to real disappointment though. He didn't know where he was, but the early morning light made it obvious that this was not the empire he had been expecting. A part of him had thought the Yilling Patriarch would take over Koi Towers since it was by far the most luxurious city in the known world.

Still, it was better then that thrice damned shed.

Now all Mo Xuanyu had to do was continue to play the part. He had no doubt that Wei Wuxian had built up an army for him to command. He just had to make sure no one got close enough to begin doubting his power. Hopefully Wei Wuxian didn't have a habit of showing off...

He began to climb out of bed, eager to see what the Yilling Patriarch had built for himself in the past year but was stopped by a strong arm around his waist.

Really though- he had to commend the Yilling Patriarch for his excellent taste in men! Hangung-Jun as a lover! That alone was worth losing his body for a year.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji said with a sleep slurred voice.

Mo Xuanyu didn't really think much of interacting with Hangung-Jun. The other man would at most be a concubine who no one would listen to if he noticed Wei Wuxian acting strangely. As tempting as the older man was, Mo Xuanyu was too excited to see his new empire to stay in bed longer.

So he scoffed and removed Lan Wangji's arm from his waist and said "Don't be so clingy, Hangung-Jun. I have better things to do."

The way Hangung-Jun's eye snapped open and locked on him made him realize that he had just made a mistake.

296 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#2

WWX dies after Sunshot Campaign Reputation Intact AU

Playing fast and loose with the timeline a bit, bear with me here.

It's almost perfect the Sunshot Campaign has ended, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian have returned to Lotus Pier.

Wei Wuxian sits outside overlooking the lake waving Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli off to bed to moonwatch a bit longer.

In the morning they find Wei Ying asleep in the same place they left him last night. Exasperated good humor fades into horror as they realise their brother isn't breathing anymore and had passed peacefully away in his sleep with a soft smile.

Visitors including the Lan, are turned away from Lotus Pier as Jiang Cheng checks that it wasn't a assassination. (it's not, Wei Wuxian body literally gave out on him because of the immense strain the Sunshot Campaign put him under).

The funeral is held privately at Lotus Pier and Wei Wuxian's tablet is added to the Family Shrine.

The first the Cultivation World learns of Wei Wuxian's death is at the Phoenix Mountain Hunt when Jin Zixun callously asks why the Jiang Sect are still wearing mourning attire and Jiang Yanli replies in front of every Cultivator at the hunt that the Jiang Sect is in mourning for the death of Wei Wuxian.

(Wen Qing encounters Lan Wangji and learns that Wei Wuxian is dead. Lan Wangji overhears her muttering that its her fault and pressures her for a answer. A answer she won't give unless Lan Wangji helps her rescue her brother Wen Ning...)

Wei Wuxian returns to a world that knows of his sacrifice (A concept that gives him hives) a brother ready to either whip him or hug him and Jiang Yanli and her husband Nie Huisang who both want him to investigate the truth behind the murder of Nie Mingjue and Jin Zixuan and expose Jin Guangyao.

Because ironically Wei Wuxian has the best reputation of the lot of them having died a hero and willingly endured a Golden Core Transfer Surgery as the donor. Lan Wangji's reputation took a nosedive when he rescued the Wen Remnants and barely survived the Propaganda storm of rumors by the Jin for opposing them by going into seclusion.

WWX kicking in the jingshis door: Hi Lan Zhan! I'm here to kidnap you!

306 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

In those AU's where WWX allows himself to be purified to death by the Lan its often by LWJ who thinks he's helping and WQ knows beforehand, Here WWX is suicidal and has decided to make his death mean something.

What if WWX agreed to be purged of resentment in return for granting the Wen Remnants sanctuary then fully informed the Lan of what cleansing entailed? The Elders don't believe WWX because he's still agreed to undergo cleansing and they don't realise WWX is actively suicidal instead of lying. LWJ is conflicted regarding the issue and LXC steps in to perform Cleansing also sure that WWX is exaggerating, he's not exaggerating. How would the Lans react knowing that they assisted in WWXs suicide. How would WQ react after WWX lied to her about the the Lans requirements to take in the Wen Remnants, not knowing that he'd tricked them into killing him thereby forcing the Lans to take in the Wen Remnants and protect them out of duty and guilt at accepting such a twisted agreement.

I like this one.

Lan Wangji was really the only one who unquestioningly believed Wei Wuxian when he told him that the ritual would likely kill him. He was immediately telling Lan Xichen that they needed to make a new deal and find a different condition to take in the Wens because he wasn't willing to risk Wei Wuxian's life. Lan Xichen speaks to the elders and they all convince him that this was just the Yilling Patriarch trying to weasel out of being purified and purged of the resentful energy that makes him so powerful. Lan Xichen believes the elders and doesn't trust Wei Wuxian but he does have a talk with him to try appeasing Lan Wangji.

During their talk Wei Wuxian sort of nonchalantly says 'yeah the chances of me dying are super high but if this is what the Lan clan wants then so be it' and Lan Xichen is like 'ok I'm still pretty sure your lying because no one would be this casual with their life so this is a go, but Wangji won't be happy about it.'

Wangji is Very unhappy about it. He tries to stop the ritual and fights a lot of his own clan before he is subdued and dragged away for his own punishment. Wei Wuxian feels super guilty and regrets telling Lan Wangji.

The ritual happens and Wei Wuxian ends up very very dead. Lan Xichen has a crisis because 1) he just killed a man, 2) he was warned that his actions would cause this, 3) he kneeling chose to ignore these warnings, and 4) that man happens to be the love of his brothers life. Some of the Lan elders try to argue that Wei Wuxian tricked them so they shouldn't have to fill their end of the agreement and take the Wens in but Lan Xichen shuts that down fast.

Lan Wangji is told that Wei Wuxian is dead and his heart breaks. Lan Xichen begs for forgiveness but Wangji isn't really in a forgiving mood. He ensures Wei Wuxian has a proper burial and goes into seclusion, planning to stay there for the rest of his life.

336 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[poketnife69]

Hello! Can I request a candyman x reader? Where reader has an infatuation with Daniel and writes poems and makes art of him?

A different kind of Love Language

Candyman / Daniel Robitaille x gn!reader

WARNINGS: Kind of short, mentions of murder(?), and poorly written poems-

NOTE : This is my very first request on Tumblr and I'm kind of excited about the thought of actually writing fanfics for this community! But I'm also kinda nervous since I don't have any experience in writing so if there's anything I missed out on ( grammar, spelling, etc.) please let me know! And I openly take suggestions from anyone, and help myself to improve!

------------------------------------

Life has always been full of surprises, especially the fact that you're dating Daniel Robitaille or more likely known as "Candyman", the infamous urban legend that has been going around in Chicago for centuries, the man who had been murdered because of forbidden love, and the spirit who kills anyone who says his name five times in front of a mirror.

And by some miracle, you somehow managed to survive from getting your throat slit by his hook and winning his love at the same time, you didn't know what was it about you that made him fall for you, maybe it was because you both shared a similar interest in art and poetry.

You knew he was a man of arts considering that he used to be an artist, so you showed your love and appreciation for him through that same advantage.

Whenever you'd leave your humbled home instead of small notes you'd leave written poems on your kitchen counter for him to read later on.

To Daniel my beloved,

my love for you is unlimited,

you painted my life full of colors,

From yours truly your lover.

You are the bee to my honey,

this may sound kinda cheesy,

aou make butterflies in my tummy,

and I love you so dearly. <3

The first time I saw you,

Was just out of the blue.

But only then I knew,

My love for you is so good to be true.

They're always short but they held a deeper meaning to Daniel, the fact that you took your time into writing these sweet short poems just for him warmed his dead heart, and he would often keep those simple poems underneath his furry coat and write back to you.

To my dearest Y/N,

I promise I shall take all your pains away.

With every moment spent together,

I cherish them as if it were my final day.

I want nothing more but to spend the rest of my life with you,

Oh the things you do to me, you don't have a clue.

It's to hold you close and have your presence near me,

for all eternity.

There wasn't a day without you or Daniel leaving each other love poems, it was as if written poems were your love languages. But other than that you would often stay in the comfort of your home painting when you have no work or chores to do for the day, you had asked him if you could do a portrait of him which he happily obliged to. Daniel watched as you applied your paintbrush to the mixing palette in hand, and stroked the brush on the canvas looking back and forth between him and back to the canvas.

To be honest, you weren't the worst painter but having seen Daniel's artworks before made you motivated into improving your art skills and making sure not to leave a single detail out of the portrait. It had been hours and you had eventually finished your artwork, you were a bit surprised that Daniel hadn't left the entire time to kill some poor and helpless soul for calling him 5 times.

You stepped aside and watched him intently as he inspects the final product of your masterpiece, your anxiety washed away, and with the newfound feeling of relief as you saw a gentle smile spread across his face. "My love, this is probably one of your best masterpieces yet." he whispered as he pulls you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your shoulder, you gently placed your head on his shoulder and took in a deep breath as you felt a little more confident about your painting, "You think so?".

"I know so."

He was glad to have met someone like you, even after what happened with him and Coralina he still managed to have found someone who accepted him, loved him for who he was, and never failed to show their appreciation to him every day.

------------------------------------

TAGLIST :

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

hi, emma! how are you?

can I request a headcanon with Speirs, Winter, Luz and Liebgott about a reader who falls for them but it's unrequited? I need all the hurt and angst, thank you!! <3

Hello dear anon, thank you for the brilliant request this is gonna be such a heart wrencher to write for me because I love them all so much 😩

Note: I did in fact cry several times writing this, and I'm pretty sure my heart cracked in half.

Ron Speirs

There'd always been something about him that drew your attention, something dangerously alluring.

The others would actively try to avoid him because "he's absolutely terrifying" but you went out of your way to bump into him. That was made a lot easier when he joined Easy.

Once you got to know him you realised that beneath the scary facade was a deeply caring and kind hearted man, and you fell head over heels for him.

Many hours between Hagenau and Zell Am See were spent chatting quietly together about everything from the weather to philosophy. You could talk for hours and never get bored. There was also plenty of sarcastic jibes thrown back and forth, but always in good spirit.

You thought he surely must have known how you felt, it was the worst kept secret in the company for chrissakes.

Eventually you built up the courage to tell him, you just needed a stiff drink first. Your heart sank when you walked into the bar and saw him with his arm around a pretty nurse. You wanted to run but you were rooted to the spot, hardly able to breathe.

Unfortunately that's when he spotted you, and he grinned brightly at you and waved you over and what could you do only go along with him because damn that smile.

"Hey let me introduce you to a good friend of mine," he said, and it was like a dagger being slowly pushed into your chest, inch by inch. Because that's all you were to him, a good friend.

Dick Winters

It was almost too easy to fall in love with him.

You'd always looked to him for motivation to keep going, and had always admired his determination and sensible leadership.

It was only when you got promoted and started working with him that you truly saw the real him.

He was wonderful. He was compassionate and humble and so so kind. But he was also sharp as a tack and delightfully funny in the most understated way.

You found every excuse you could think of to spend as much time as possible with him because it was one of the few joys you had in an otherwise miserable time.

He also started to seek you out more often, and you couldn't supress the little flutter of hope you felt in your chest that maybe, just maybe, your feelings might be reciprocated.

He'd talk of the farm he hoped to own if he made it home, and you couldn't help but imagine yourself right there with him in a quiet little corner of the world.

It was actually Nix who unintentionally burst your bubble one fine summers day in some German Town.

"C'mon Dick we're almost finished over here," Nix sighed dramatically, "You've got to find yourself at least one nice European lady before we head home."

"Who says I haven't already?" Dick laughed, his cheeks redenning. You almost choked on your drink but just about managed to keep it together, though you could feel Nix's heavy gaze resting on you.

"Have you met the future Mrs Winters then eh?" Nix asked coyly.

"No not yet," Dick shrugged, "I think that can wait until we hopefully get settled back home don't you?"

You bit your tongue so hard you almost tasted blood, but it was better than letting any tears spill over. Clearly you'd been wrong. He had no idea how you felt, and you were nothing more to him than another wartime friend. But you couldn't blame him for it. It wasn't his fault you'd misconstrued his friendliness for something else.

George Luz

George really was your best friend. Nobody could make you laugh the way he did.

You were the ultimate double act when you were together, always entertaining the others even in the worst of times.

But you also trusted him more than anybody. Whenever you were feeling down or needed a friendly face you'd seek him out, and vice versa.

It was bound to happen that you'd fall in love with him, I mean how could you not? He was your best friend, the most amazing person in the whole world.

You knew he didn't love you in that way though, and it broke your heart every day. You'd hear him tease the others about being too chicken to make a move on a girl they liked, and how he wouldn't make that mistake. He'd talk about how if he had a girl he'd treat her to all the finest things in life. It was obvious he didn't see you as anything more than a best friend, because if he did he'd have made his move already.

Joe Liebgott

You and Joe clashed quite a lot in the beginning. He was a total hot head and he drove you absolutely insane. Barely a day went by without you two throwing barbs at each other.

Somewhere along the line those barbs into flirting, and before you knew it you had some sort of flirtationship going on with him.

It was all fun and games until you were all out at a bar one night and you saw this pretty blonde approach him. The gnawing feeling you got I'm your gut was impossible to ignore, and you had to admit to yourself that you had a teeny tiny crush on him.

That teeny tiny crush grew exponentially the more time you spent with him. He was a total idiot half the time, but he was caring and he could be so sweet and so funny too. It hit you like a tonne of bricks that you were totally in love with him.

Of course you didn't say anything, that would be totally embarrassing. And anyways there was no way he'd have feelings for you.

But then he'd put his head on your shoulder, or give you a cheeky smile, or brush your hand in passing and try as you might you couldn't help the bubbling hope that maybe he did have feelings for you.

That bubble of hope was violently burst as you sat on the back of a troop truck on your way through Germany. Your heart grew painfully cold as you sat beside him and had to listen to him talk all about the dream woman he was going to find for himself when he got home.

Taglist:  @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @generousdreamlanddestiny @sofietargaryen @cagzzz107 @stolemyspoons @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck @now-im-a-belieber @delreyleclerc @50svibes @eugene-emt-roe @pennyllane @televisionboy @francois-ceverts @ask-you-what-sir @parajumpboots @mads-weasley @tetragonia

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

[aquamarinescarlet]

The Psychology of Us

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: mentions of smut (nothing explicit)

Summary: It seems like you’ll never get the answers you want, but little did you know…

Author’s note: This is probably my favorite story yet. It got a little steamier than I originally planned, but I think it turned out okay. I hope the explanation makes sense, it’s something I do use in real life so I thought it’d be fun to write about. Anyhow, thank you for everyone who read, and have fun with the last part :D

Taglist: @helloalycia @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @trikruismybitch @b0mbdotc0m @ima-gi--na-tion @cristin-rjd @arealearp @1-800-maximoff @zarriaza329

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“I know, I know, I’ll be at your place at seven.” You said to Angie as soon as she reached you.

The hallway was packed, yet you were still able to notice her presence.

“About that,” she sounded unsure, “I came to tell you about this small gathering Pietro is doing at his place tonight, and I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

“So I can be a third wheel? No thank you.”

“He will have other friends over too, don’t worry.”

“Then why can’t you go by yourself?”

“Because I don’t know any of them and I don’t want to be there all by myself.” She reasoned.

“Just stick by Pietro and you’ll be fine.”

“Please!” She pleaded, giving you her best puppy eyes.

You weren’t opposed to the idea of going to Pietro’s house, a small gathering would be a nice change of pace from your usual Friday night parties. But your mind was in a different place right now and a party wasn’t exactly on your plans. You couldn’t say no to her though, maybe you could sneak out early, who knows.

“Fine, I’ll go.” You gave in.

She cheered, hugging you eagerly, and walked away before you could change your mind.

It was Friday again and you were still stuck on the girl and her puzzle. You’d seen her seven more times in the past two weeks. Now you had compulsively read eight books in the span of one month. Eight books all due to her, it was more than Diego reads in the same time.

Even your family was starting to question this sudden new hobby. Aalways keeping yourself locked in your room or with your nose deep down into a different book wasn’t normal.

Despite that, you were no closer to solving the mystery that was the girl from the library. She refused to give you her name when you asked her for it. She refused to explain the logic behind her recommendations. She just had fun watching you drown in frustration.

You were close to giving up, to start avoiding her until you forgot completely about the whole situation. But you enjoyed these moments. You were excited at the prospect of seeing her, not that you’d ever admit it out loud.

Of course, all this excitment died down the moment she started to mock you for nothing, with that annoying smirk painting those perfect stupid lips of hers, growing your desire to wipe it off of her.

There was something, though, that caught your attention, something about the books she recommended. You enjoyed them, you savoured every story, every plot, every character. Diego always tried to get you to read some of his favourite books and you gave up after a few pages. But not these ones, you liked them, and you had to figure out what kind of spell she used to make you like them so much.

“I think I’m going insane.” You muttered while staring at the ‘map’ you had created on your bedroom wall.

It contained post-its, notes, the title of all eight books and the answers that earned you each recommendation. A pathetic attempt to find a connection between this whole thing.

“You are getting too worked up on this, I mean, look at your wall,” Diego, who had been hanging out with you this afternoon, gestured towards it, “it looks like something right out of a detective movie.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said exasperatedly, “I just need to figure this out.”

“Okay, two things,” he put up both his index and middle finger, “first: it is that bad, it’s just a bunch of books; and second: why are you so desperate to figure this out?”

“I’m not desperate,” you argued.

“Yes, you are.” You heard him mumble.

“And aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

“Not that curious.”

“I just want to prove her wrong,” you explained.

“Because you care about what she thinks?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“No, I-”

“Look,” he interrupted, “I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. You have never been one to care about what other people think of you. So why her?”

“I-,” you were at a loss for words.

Why did you care? It bothered when she insulted you, even though you knew it wasn’t true, and you’ve never been bothered by such things before. It bothered that she knew nothing about you and still had the nerve to deem herself better than you, even though this was all the more reason to not care about her opinion at all.

Was it really a bother though? Or was that just an excuse? And if it is an excuse, then what were you excusing? Why were you still doing this? You’ve been dragging this out for a month. Why were you so keen on proving her wrong after all this time?

You don’t need to prove to her that you’re smart: you get good grades, you’re the captain of the football team, you even have a scholarship in one of the best colleges in the area. Of course she doesn’t know any of this, but that’s not enough motivation for you to spend a month trying to prove her she’s wrong about you.

For all you know that crazy scheme of hers to recommend books could be fake. She could just recommend books she likes and hide the reasons behind those questions. But then why did you enjoy those stories? And why would she put up a whole facade to recommend some books to a random stranger she met in a library?

“Do you like her?” Diego’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

The look you gave him was one of disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh at his words.

“Like her? How can I like someone who pisses me off so much?”

“Then why do you keep going back?”

“Why I- because- I- I’m curious.” You didn’t sound as confident as you wished. It wasn’t a lie. You were curious. But curiosity was not the only reason you kept going back, although you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I don’t believe you.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to answer. Thankfully you didn’t have to when, with a quick glance at the clock, you were able to change the subject.

“We’re late.” You simply stated.

“For what?”

“I told Angie I was going to meet her at her place at seven,” you gestured towards the time, “it’s seven thirty.”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“C’mon, please,” you pleaded, “it’s going to be a small, like, get together or something, and I know Angie will leave me alone at some point to makeout with her boyfriend.”

“Okay fine,” he gave in and you made a little celebratory dance, dragging him out of the house.

Since this was supposed to be casual and between friends, you didn’t waste any time at Angie’s, where you’d usually spend hours getting dressed and ready.

Pietro’s place wasn’t far, which you were slightly thankful for since Angie wouldn’t stop talking about him the whole ride. He’s such a good kisser. He’s so cute. Did you know he plays soccer? He looks so hot in his uniform… You love your friend, but that’s just too much.

As always you weren’t the first one’s, and by the amount of people it was far from a “small gathering between friends”. The apartment wasn’t small, but sure felt like it with the almost fifty people crammed in there.

You were greeted by Pietro himself, who offered you each a beer before pulling Angie in for a kiss, causing you and Diego to roll your eyes. You gladly took the beer, if you had to endure this, might as well have some alcohol to help.

Two beers later and your mind was no longer fixating on the girl-from-the-library problem. Instead you were having a friendly debate with some of Pietro’s friends about which college was the best, the typical rivalry. Having only Angie to back you up was making the whole thing harder.

“Hey Piet,” a tall blonde boy called out, interrupting the conversation, “is Wanda going to join us?”

“Doubtful, you know how she is…”

“Who’s Wanda?” Angie’s voice was laced with jealousy causing the boy to laugh dramatically, which only seemed to make her madder.

“She’s my sister, don’t worry,” he reassured her. It made sense, he had mentioned he lived with his twin sister.

You watched as he pulled Angie away from the group, probably to makeout, as you had predicted, and you looked at Diego, to stop him from commenting anything, only to find his place empty.

You left the group as well to search for him, and was surprised to find him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat. You could’ve left them alone? Yes, you could. But did you? Of course not.

“Y’know,” you tapped on his shoulder, earning his attention, “when I bring you to a party so I can have someone when Angie left me, I expect you not to leave me as well.” You teased.

“Shut up.” He tried to sound serious, but the smirk gave it away.

“You owe me one.”

Feeling a sudden need to go to the bathroom, you let them be and went in search of one. You opened a door you thought led to a bathroom, but found yourself in a corridor which had other four doors that probably led to bedrooms, at least one must lead to a bathroom.

“Pietro, I already told you, keep that door closed!” You heard someone scream from one of them.

It wasn’t just anyone though. That was a voice that had been haunting you for a whole month now. Okay, haunting was an exaggeration, but still. You quickly closed the door, muffling the music and chatter.

As you rested your back against the wall, a surge of power took over you. The new information taking over all your thoughts. You had the upper hand now on this little game of hers. It was your turn to play.

Her door was easy to identify, being the only one with light seeping through the cracks, and you made no effort to be quiet or discreet when opening it.

She was sitting in her bed, long red hair loose over her shoulders, a book in hands. Her expression was soft despite the interruption, she hadn’t looked up, so she had no idea it was you who was standing there.

“What do you want Piet?” A mischievous smirk grew on your face.

“Wanda,” you uttered as if trying it on your tongue for the first time, earning the girl’s attention.

The shock that took over her features did wonders to your confidence.

“A beautiful name,” you continued, daring to take a few steps inside her room, “I see you favourite color is red,” you referred to the endless amount of details on her walls, shelves, bedsheets, all a different shade of red.

You walked further into the room, exploring everything in sight. She followed your every move with her eyes, too stunned to say anything. Were you crossing a line? Probably. Should you be invading her personal space like that, without a warning? Probably not. But she has been invading your personal space for weeks, so you couldn’t care less.

“Ah, you play the guitar,” you grazed your fingers over the instrument sitting on the corner of the room, “I didn’t think you had any talents other than insulting me for no reason.”

You were enjoying this too much. Your eyes landed on some pictures and notes clinging to a wall.

“Sokovia,” you said after reading one of the notes, “so you are Sokovian, that’s interesting.” Your gaze fell to her desk, a pile of textbooks stacked there. “Psychology,” you laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was going to piss her off even further, “you are more likely to drive your patients crazy than to actually help them.”

“How…,” you turned towards her, “did you…,”

“Get in here? Learn your name?” You offered some suggestions since she didn’t seem capable of finishing that sentence herself. “Pietro.” You simply stated and watched as her face went from stunned to mad.

“How do you know my brother?”

Was that jealousy you were sensing? Or was she just upset that he had told you stuff about her? You decided to play with it a little bit.

“He is a sweet boy isn’t he? So hot and so nice,” you teased and she advanced towards you, making you a little frightened, but not enough to back down, “it’s hard to believe you two share the same genes.”

Your face was mere inches from hers and you suddenly felt like the air was growing thick, making it hard to breathe. A feeling of warmth taking over your chest and stomach. In spite of all the discomfort, you managed to keep your composure.

“I so want to wipe that pretentious smirk off of your face right now,” she growled. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Why don’t you?” You challenged.

Football had given you fast reflexes (except for that particular event a few weeks ago), you were ready to catch her hand if she tried anything. Instead of her fist or her palm, you were met with her lips attacking yours furiously.

The kiss was needy, hungry, desperate even. Your hands made their way to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. It was a battle, a fight neither of you were willing to lose. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth biting lips, jaw, neck, hands pulling on skin in such a way it would definitely leave marks.

Clothes fell to the floor as you backed her to her bed, pushing her onto the mattress, this feeling, a necessity for her, on the pit of your stomach growing ever more.

Safe to say your plans of leaving early were postponed. At some point during the night you had managed to find Diego and let him know you wouldn’t be needing a ride back home. Your disheveled state and red marks, which were already showing up on your neck, didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he didn’t have time to comment on it. You mentally dreaded the moment he would start with the questioning.

Some shifting on the bed caught your attention. Slowly opening your eyes, you were able to catch Wanda staring at you with a soft smile. Your back was facing her, so she didn’t know you were awake, but you could see her clearly from her bedroom mirror.

And what a sight it was.

“You’re staring.” You called out, and watched her face turn three shades redder out of embarrassment from being caught.

You turned around so you’re now facing her, although she wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?” She kept quiet. “Okay, wanna know what’s on my mind?” She nodded lightly. “Well, I’m thinking that I would have never, not in a million years, pegged you as being shy.” She tried to stifle a laugh while bringing her hand up to playfully hit you on the arm. “That’s more like it,” you teased.

“I’m not shy,” she defended.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“Because… “ she lost it mid sentence.

“... you’re shy and sweet, just like your brother said,” you recalled from the day you spent together in the arcade.

She hit you, yet again, on the arm, slightly harder this time, but not enough to hurt.

“Tell me this then,” you finally reached the topic that has been bugging you for weeks, “what was all this for? The mystery, the games?”

She fell silent, seemingly in deep thought and you got scared you had killed the moment.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little shy,” she admitted and you celebrated internally while your face remained unfazed, “and that makes me scared of…”

“Talking to people?” You helped out, but she covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“Please, don’t laugh at me, I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not,” you interrupted, uncovering her face, “go on.”

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m scared of talking to people… especially people that I like.” Although it sounded like a confession, you weren’t exactly sure what it was about.

“So you liked me?” You asked in disbelief. “From the beginning?”

Her already red face was growing darker by the second.

“I had seen you before, with Diego, in the library, always complaining, always stating how boring it was,” she shook her hands in the air for the purpose of drama, “and it was annoying, but it was also cute and- and I always wanted to talk to you, but I never found courage to do it.”

To say you were shocked at the new information was an understatement. She liked you all this time? And you just thought she hated your guts for no reason? Wow, that’s precious.

“Okay, so…” you tried to say in the stunned state you found yourself, “how- why- the- why did you do all that then?”

“Because I had like, this sudden flow of confidence, and since you had this cocky personality I thought you would like someone who was the same, so I said what I said, and I did what I did and-”

“I started to hate you.” The way you acted when you first met must’ve hurt her.

“Exactly, and I thought I had screwed up completely, until you showed up again, and my stupid brain associated that to the idea that the way I had acted worked. So I kept it up. A persona, in a sense.”

“What were you planning to do then? Keep that act up forever?” The question made her slightly frustrated.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think that far, I just enjoyed your presence, even though you still seemed to hate my guts.” You laughed and moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I did,” you whispered close to her ear, “I hated your guts, but I also enjoyed it, the games, the mystery, that’s why I kept coming back.”

“So it worked,” she said excitedly.

“It sort of did.” You stared into her green eyes, for a few seconds. “There’s something else in my mind too that I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“So… about the recommendations-”

“Oh my god,” she didn’t let you finish, “you haven’t figured that out yet?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, when she opened her mouth again you knew what was coming.

“Don’t say it.” You warned.

“You really are slow.” She said it anyways, a mischievous grin painting her lips.

“Damn, I hate you,” you said jokingly, unwrapping yourself from her and making a move to leave the bed.

She stopped you short, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you back, causing you to fall on the bed laughing hysterically.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I won’t say it anymore.”

She let you go and sat up and across from you.

“Good, so are you going to explain it to me or not?” You questioned and she rolled her eyes playfully. “And don’t you dare tell me there is no logic behind it, there has to be one.”

“Yes, there is a logic,” she mocked, “it’s quite simple actually, the ‘color’ is what sets the mood for the book.”

“How so?”

“Uhm, like, we associate colors with stuff, like black is associated with death and evil and white is associated with peace and purity,” you nodded, “it also works for feelings, associating those with colors, so when a person says a color I can pick a book that has elements that are associated with that color, or that causes a feeling that we associate with that color.” She explained.

“That explains the psychology major thing.” She seemed happy you remembered, even though it was mere hours ago.

“Basically,” she agreed, “so, ‘person’ is what defines the relationships that surround the main character, so either romances, friendships, families, strangers, y’know?”

“Yeah okay,” you tried to follow along.

“And ‘place’ is to decide how far from reality the story should be, if the person says a place that’s close to their home, they tend to prefer stuff closer to their comfort zone, so no fantasy or sci-fi, and vice-versa.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she beamed a smile, “simple isn’t it?”

“Does it always work?”

“No, it’s a really subjective thing, the more I know the person the better, but sometimes it just doesn’t work.” She admitted. “It worked on you like a charm though,” she teased.

“That it did,” you couldn't deny. “Okay, so if I got it right, color sets the mood, right?”

“Right.”

“Then what is red associated with?” You looked around her room, filled with several details in red.

“Anger, love, passion-,” she stopped talking when she met your eyes, a mischievous smirk on your lips.

You slowly rose from your position and crawled forward, never losing her gaze. You quirked an eyebrow suggestively as you got closer. You sat on her lap, faces inches from another.

“Well, I can show you some passion.”

[getosboobies]

reasons i think matchablossom is or has been canon!

once again, i have become overly obsessive and have throughly analysed each and every kaoru & kojiro scene that we currently have. i indulged and created my own list of “ are they besties or are they banging or both “ but i have decided to share it all with you :))

( keep in mind, i’m a reacher and these are just my interpretations. i will go to any extent to prove myself correct - no matter how unlikely )

so first of all, we have the fact cherry is the only one we have yet to see at joe’s restaurant after hours. this immediately shows that they are extremely comfortable with each other and spend a lot of time together even when they’re not skating. it also potentially suggests cherry is waiting for joe to go home, maybe a habit they’ve developed over time. before these scenes, the producers always show an image of the restaurants front door which states closed. by showing this frame, it obviously gives the impression it’s important for us to know that it is closed and therefore showings us that joe and cherry’s relationship is more than just some rivalry banta and that they have an established friendship built on trust and time. the creators could have just not shown that it was closed and had us assume that’s they were just good friends who spent time together but they went a whole step further and showed us these two men’s personal lives are somewhat intertwined with one another, showing us that they don’t have large boundaries for each other which would be considered strange in contrast to the “ arguing “ we had previously seen between them. if this isn’t enough for you, in these scenes we also see joes uniform unbuttoned so i take this as even more evidence of how comfortable they are around each other. also ! restaurants tend to close quite late ( avg. 8pm-12pm ) and on all the shots of the closed door, it has been dark outside. why wouldn’t cherry be home at this time settling down or something??? or maybe cherry has a lot of love for joe if he’s willing to wait that long for him to finish work... just sayin’. more on this, i analysed the restaurants design and noticed that the plug in the wall is really low down to the ground. maybe this is just one of joes odd design techniques or maybe it was specifically placed for cherry to charge carla, the concept of which, makes me very happy

keeping on the point of joe’s restaurant, whenever we have seen cherry inside he always sits right in front of the kitchen, this is pretty normal unless you think about 1) how much time he spends there 2) how busy restaurants get 3) he came there while he was with a colleague. we’ve already seen that cherry doesn’t mind coming after hours so why did he come during the day if he knew joe would be busy? this is similar to the fact he came in with his colleague in episode 2 - he obviously wasn’t expecting to be able to talk with joe while he was out for a work meal, so why on earth would he sit right in front of where joe would be, which is situated in a considerably inconvenient table for work meal? what i’ve interpreted from this is that cherry’s must enjoy being in joes presence. cherry canonically having anxiety would explain why he likes being close to someone who he knows well, and that cares for him. being able to see and hear joe so close is perhaps very relaxing for cherry.

now when i watched sk8 for the first time, i gather the impression that joe was a forgive and forget kinda guy when it came to someone who did him wrong. when we’re introduced to adam it’s evident there is some hostility within joe but this does not nearly compare to the anger cherry showed. when suggesting a beef their intentions seem to be completely different. cherry outrightly admitting to his grudge and anger for adam whereas joe seems to just want to prove a point to adam by winning against him ( i mean look at the image above, their facial expressions show it all ). but i noticed that as cherry would speak about adam, joe’s intentions slowly shifted and became far more serious and full of anger. “ there’s someone i’d like to punch “ is a sentence said by joe in episode 8. this is quite different to what we had seen in earlier episodes of him just wanting to make a point. i think this shift was predominantly when joe found cherry at the ocean view. joe knew how cherry was feeling towards adam BEFORE this scene because he knew where to find him, but the realisation that cherry was standing there, alone, and reliving some of his saddest memories probably hit joe that cherry couldn’t do this alone. therefore stepped up his game and met cherry’s loathing so they could do it together. as far as things go, this is one of the most important things they have done for each other because it shows clearly how devoted they are to each other.

this is one of the most confusing lines in this show thus far. i’m sure it’ll make sense in the oncoming episodes but i have come to two conclusions. so either adam has created this false reality of what happened and has told himself his evil ways stemmed from joe and cherry or, the more likely in my opinion, adam always felt like he was in need of a partner, a rival but also someone to love. this is displayed in the show in his predatory ways, aka, he wants his own ‘eve’. now there’s no ruling whatsoever that a skater needs any sort of dedicated rival, or skate partner, so i believe adam probably got this want from his peers, for example, joe and cherry. adam seems to believe you need to love your ‘eve’ and it gives me the idea that maybe he saw joe and cherry -in love- and decided that was what he wanted, but then as we know he went about it in an extremely toxic way. the “was it so“ was really hard to interpret, he’s clearly quite smug by the way he shrugs and smiles and shows that he’s very confident about what he’s saying but the question is short and leaves a lot unknown, which suggests why cherry and joe don’t respond. either they are as confused as i am, or they have a slight idea what adam could be suggesting and they feel guilty. we all know cherry and joe aren’t bad hearted people but as adam is insinuating ‘no, you guys parted ways from me first’ it could suggest that joe and cherry had perhaps become closer in high school and had developed a stronger bond than they had with adam and this left adam feeling lost and alone. this is more of a canon compliant headcanon that would make sense rather than a fact but it’s certainly something to think about.

one of the most obvious factors in their relationship is how they always know what the other is thinking or planning. we’ve seen in recent episodes that when cherry was racing, joe knew exactly what his motive was even without discussing it, thats enough information to show how well they truly know each other and how connected they really are. it’s also shown with cherry. when joe is racing, and is going extremely fast towards the corner, we see a frame of miya and shadow being worried for him, but then it shifts to cherry watching and there’s not a spec of worry on his face because he KNOWS what joe is planning and knows he will be fine. they know each other’s techniques better than anyone and it shows they don’t doubt each other’s choices one bit.

we learn right from the beginning that cherry and joe like to argue and fight, at first we think this is because they dislike each other but we learn that they are best friends. so when watching back you notice that none of the insults are ever actually insulting. let’s think about it, the most common insults they use are gorilla, dimwit and four-eyes. now to me, none of these actually seem insulting whatsoever and even if they do like to argue a lot it’s obvious they never ever mean any harm to one another.

from analysing the scenes one of the things i’ve noticed the most is how cherry and joe turn up and leave together. when the cops came during the langa x adam skate they both started to run off together leaving everyone else behind. as we know, they spend a lot of their personal lives together but leaving and turning up together every single time we’ve see them there seems like they’re a bit more attached than i originally thought. there’s a chance they meet before hand but why always that late at night? why aren’t they ever at home alone? unless...they live together. i mean it’s a perfectly valid suspicion right now as we’ve never seen either of their homes and we’ve never seen either of them turn up anywhere alone but either way it confirms they spend an awful lot of time together in general life. going back to my original point of them not only turning up and leaving together but they also never leave each other’s sides. there’s a heap of frames that you can see them standing together watching a beef or even just them talking. they’re literally attached at the hip and nothing makes me happier.

the creators of the show have made countless points to show that joe and cherry have a lot of history. from the school references to the fact they have TRAVELLED THE WORLD TOGETHER. they could have just shown one or two so we know that as a general fact they’ve known each other a long time but they bring it up an awful lot for it to be just a general fact. this being shown so much let’s us know that this is important information and that they’ve obviously wanting to lay down a foundation to bring something crucial up. so far they have mentioned their social studies trip, a school excursion, joes love for haunted houses, holiday to La and the Paris bar they went to. now you might be thinking, oh they were in the same school they probably just went on a trip together nothing confirms they were close, well i am here to prove that statement false. joe said he found cherry’s wallet, this not only shows that joe was close to cherry when he lost it but also that he knew where to find it, showing how well he knew cherry. another point is that legal age to drink in Paris is 18 so unless they had fake ID it’s safe to say this is a trip they’ve done since becoming adults and leaving school. it’s also canon that have gone together, so the fact they’ve been travelling as adults together is quite interesting. same with the restaurant in LA, sounds kinda like a date.

over the course of the episodes we’ve seen so far there has been a few comments they have made to each other that suggest a little bit of jealousy. for cherry, these comments are made in episode 6 in the hot spring. cherry brings up joes love for haunted houses and then joe agrees and says it’s because “chicks get scared and grab onto me” * with a smirk *. now what’s interesting about this is cherry’s response. “you really are a scumbag” this insult feels a lot more insulting than usual and the response itself surprised me. at this moment cherry looks away from joe which is an action people tend to do when they’re hurt or pissed off. either works in this scenario but neither make much sense as we know cherry’s already aware of joes status with girls. so why was he mad? well this was obviously a fond memory of cherry’s and joe replying with a statement about girls probably made him a bit angry because that was supposed to be their memory. but joes smirk with the comment makes me rethink, did he state that on purpose to make cherry jealous? obviously we can’t be sure but the entire encounter left me a bit confused. now onto joes jealousy, in episode 2 dub joe says “dude, you’re talking to a machine?” now in context this seems like joe is partially bewildered by the fact cherry is casually talking to his AI skateboard but he also seems slightly jealous that cherry is talking to carla instead of talking to him. this is one of the only scenes where joes facial expressions actually seem insulted rather than just having a bit of fun. he follows this up with “figured you’d give your board a girls name seeing as you can’t get a real one!” why can’t he get a real one? we hear tonnes of girls screaming compliments at cherry when he turns up so he definitely could get a girlfriend if he wanted, and joe no doubt knows this too, so why would he use it as an insult? i’m not sure what to make of this but it’s got to be a factor somewhere.

more on the haunted mansion chit chat, the line about chicks grabbing onto joe is quite funny when you look at the entire scene, because as soon as they get jumped they grabbed onto each other in fear. seems a little ironic if i do say so myself.

they both seem very secluded about their personal lives. cherry more specifically does not like the use of his skate name in his personal life or vice versa. joe is the only one we have seen to be aware or use cherry’s real name. the way joe slips up and calls cherry ‘kaoru’ at “S” shows how close they are and how much time they spend together to be able to accidentally mix up the two parts of their lives. this is just an extra point on how conjoined their lives must really be. in the photo above we see how cherry easily calms joe down when he starts to get annoyed. joe is the only one who knows fully about cherry’s life as emotions and cherry is the same for joe.

now one of the most heart wrenching matcha blossom scenes is when joe finds cherry at the ocean view. i have a lot to say about this so let’s start at the beginning. first of all, joe noticed cherry was missing. it’s not like cherry was there for a massive amount of time, so joe noticing that cherry was gone for even as much as an hour or two really says a lot about the placement they have in each other’s lives. there was really no reason for joe to worry about where cherry was considering they’re grown adults but he continued to go out and find him anyways. this is also set in the late afternoon judging by the sky, whereas the previous scene had been set at night at “s”, so this is suggesting the ocean view scene is on a completely different normal day for them (another factor showing how much time they spend together). next, the fact joe knew exactly where to find cherry. this truly shows how much they know and how connected they are to each other but also how well they understand the others coping mechanisms. cherry was dwelling on memories from 7 years ago and yet joe still knew exactly what he was doing and what he was thinking about. plus cherry didn’t even seem surprised when joe turns up. but one thing i noticed is that in this scene is the way they (in this case, didn’t) hold eye contact. while cherry is faced away, joe is staring at him but as soon as cherry meets joes eyes, joe turns away. either joe didn’t want to be caught staring or joe realised something crucial in that moment. i’ll let your mind decide what that is.

obviously, miyas comment about joe and cherry being his parents is a light hearted joke just to ruin joes chances of flirting with girls but it also implies that the group can tell that joe and cherry are respectively closer than anyone originally thought and they perhaps have caught on that the tension between them is a little bit too gay to be just a bit of banta. obviously in this scene we then see joe looking at cherry’s legs while a blush clearly intensifies on his face. yeah no, this is self explanatory.

one of the things i like about joe and cherry’s relationship is the fact that within that joe also has a somewhat dynamic with carla. although carla is non-living, there has been several interactions between them. for example the beginning of episode 6 on the boat joe recognises carlas voice immediately. i mean straight off i think it’s suspicious as hell that they all happened to be going there at the same time but the fact joe realised cherry must be there because of the sound of an AI skateboard? that’s impressive. also, at the beginning of the series carla is aware of who joe is when calling joe an imbecile, this shows that cherry has obviously had this modified to specifically refer to joe as joe rather than just refer to him as a general person.

there was a popular tiktok i saw the other day (if anyone has the username of the person please tell me so i can credit them!!) and it showed the two images above. in these photos it shows joes skateboard and his odd looking wheels. the creator of this video further analysed that these reflect the general outlook of a cherry blossom flower. though the actual wheels in real life don’t look as similar to a flower as they do in the show. but now if this is what they’re meant to look like, this is a really sentimental fact and shows how highly joe thinks of cherry in his skating career. but what about his personal life? well that’s where my analysing comes in. i noticed in the dessert joe makes in episode 5 he had a range of fruits displayed on the top as well as a single flower. this flower looks identical to a cherry blossom. once again the reflection of cherry within joes life makes an appearance. we’ve seen that flowers actually mean something in this show (toxic example but adam’s red roses for langa) so it would make sense for this to actually mean something about their relationship. i studied a range of Japanese desserts and, although every chef works differently, most of the dishes tend to only have a display of fruits and no flowers. so i have come to the conclusion that this dish certainly had some symbolism to cherry in joes life, some way or another.

so overall, their dynamic already shows that they have a very thin and mistakable line between very close best friends and potential lovers. although some of this was based off personal interpretation the majority is cinematic displays and general facts. so take this and use it however you like. let me know your opinions and other factors you have! for all i know i could be completely disproven with the next few episodes but surely if this many people see a bit more than just a friendship there’s got to be a reason for it.

if we can have one lgbt+ character... why not two more?

[trueshellz]

Hello! Can I request Osamu and Kuroo finding out their S/O has trouble functioning recently. Like usually they're working a lot and being productive but now they're burnt out – no motivation, skipping meals, can't sleep, etc. If this is too much, please feel free to ignore! Thank you!

Thank you for the request! 💜

Osamu

You had always been good at hiding your stress from your family and it was no different when you started dating. Work had been more stressful than usual, there had been lots of looming deadlines and the change in management meant that the new person was trying to leave their mark on the company. Being a perfectionist, you didn't want your work scrutinised and had taken to working long hours with little sleep.

Osamu was aware of this, knowing to keep his distance when you had lots to do. Not because he didn't like your job, but more so that you would get little done, instead playing games or making out. You had planned to see him properly but he would always pop in during the early evening to drop off some food for you.

What you hadn't shared with him was how stressed you had felt. Instead of eating, the food had been piling up untouched. You were up most of the night working on the changes coming through from the new manager and relied on coffee and caffeine pills to help. When going into work had become too stressful, you had taken some time off to recover and focus on yourself. But this had just made you fall into a dark hole. You spent all day in pyjamas, barely eating still and slept most of the day. You didn't know how to tell your hardworking boyfriend how you felt, especially since he was so busy with the shop. If he could manage a business you should be able to do your job right?

It was the second week of not seeing you daily, Osamu was starting to get worried. You had told him that you were staying with family for a bit as you had been stressed with work and didn't want to take time away from him setting his restaurant up. You still spoke everyday, less so on video or the phone but your text conversations went on for ages.

"Osamu! How are you?"

Glancing up, he saw your parents approaching the shop as he was putting up a notice board. They had known for a while that you had been dating, being supportive of you both and the relationship between you had been great.

"I'm ok. How are you both? How's my lovely girlfriend doing?"

The shock on their faces was almost palatable, they both looked at each other confused before turning back to him.

"We've not spoken to her for about 3 weeks. She said she was staying at her apartment as she had deadlines to meet and needed to focus. You know how her siblings are when she's home."

"But..."

Osamu felt his heart stop as your parents told him what else you had said. The worst thoughts going through his mind as he listened half-heartedly to them. There was no reason to lie to him or your parents. He couldn't think of why you had spun this story to lie to everyone.

Waving farewell to your parents, his thoughts swirling around his head as he finished work and tidied up the shop. By the time he locked up, he was just angry at you. How dare you lie to him? You knew how much he valued truthfulness and honesty.

Storming to you apartment, he planned his conversation in his head. He was going to confront you about lying to your parents, lying to him and about not spending time with him. If you didn't want to date him, you should have just said. Knocking on your door, he waited for you to answer but there was nothing, the lights were off and he couldn't see inside. He didn't like using the spare key you gave him, not wanting to be that boyfriend who didn't trust their partner. But it seemed like he had no choice.

Unlocking your front door, he was shocked to see your post on the floor, more than would accumulate from a day or two. Walking through and calling our your name, he could see the apartment was messy too. The food he had been sending on the worktops, work papers all over the floor and your curtains were all closed too. He kept calling your name until he reached your room, hoping to hear you reply. Were you unwell? Why hadn't you told him? He would have helped you, looked after you.

You had been in bed all day, apart from a quick shower and eating a banana, the energy you usually had had completely depleted. Everything hurt. Arms. Legs. Head. Back. Your eyeballs hurt. How was that even possible? You thought you heard your name being called but figured it was just your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn't until your bedroom door opened and Osamu's face came into your peripheral vision did you really start to panic.

"'Samu... I... what?"

All thoughts of reprimanding you flew straight out the window when he saw you. Osamu actually felt his stomach drop. Your usually bright and cheerful face was dull, your eyes were sunken and you had bags under them, he was sure you'd lost weight and didn't even want to ask when you had last eaten.

"Baby."

That one word was enough to have you breaking down into tears, not pretty ones, loud and gut wrenching sobs as he rushed over and pulled you close. Yep, definitely lost weight. His chin resting on your head as he shushed you, arms wrapped around you tightly as he rubbed your back. Your tears soaking the front of his jacket, hand curled in his top as if he'd disappear. You hadn't realised how much you missed him until he appeared in front of you.

"Baby, why didn't ya tell me? I woulda come sooner."

You shook your head, unable to form words he he climbed into bed with you. Pulling you forward so you lay on him, his arms wrapped around you as you lay there. For a long time neither of you spoke, content to lay there while your breathing settled back down and eventually falling asleep again. As you did, he couldn't help but shed a few tears at the sight of seeing you so exhausted and broken, especially after he thought the worst, made him feel like shit. How could he have been so blind? He should have seen something was wrong?

"'Samu?" He felt you move and sit up, instead pushing your head back onto his chest, he cuddled you close and squeezed you lightly.

"I'm here, baby. Don't worry."

"'M sorry."

"For what?"

"Lying."

If he hadn't cried already, he was sure you were going to make him cry again. Closing his eyes against the tears, he propped you up so you could look down at him. Brushing the hair behind your ears, he thumbed your cheek lovingly before kissing you softly.

"I wish ya'd told me, baby. I woulda helped. I woulda checked on ya more and-"

"I didn't want to burden you. You've been busy with the shop and I just... didn't want to seem like I couldn't manage. And then it just got so much and I didn't know how to fix it."

Sitting up, Osamu pulled you into his lap so you were say sideways and rocked you gently as he spoke.

"Ya never have to be sorry for shit like this. If I'd known, I woulda come sooner. Baby, ya had me worried. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to ya. Listen to me, ya never gonna be alone ok? Let me help ya baby. Lemme take some of the burden ok?" When you shook your head, he smiled and continued. "I love ya baby. It's my job to help ya."

"How?"

"Come stay with me for a bit? Even if ya never leave ya room or wanna stay in bed, ya won't be alone. I'll be there to help."

"I don't-"

"Please baby. If nothing else, I'll know that yer OK. That yer not alone and sad. All by yerself thinking that no one cares. Please?"

Kuroo

It was the autumn term and you were struggling. You weren’t sure what it was about this weather that just drained you of energy, the lack of light or the cold seeping into your bones. The idea of having dark mornings and dark evenings made your mood sour and no matter what you did, it wasn’t getting any better. You knew you had work that needed doing, your to do list steadily getting bigger and your will to donit getting smaller.

You had been off school for a week now, with Kuroo away at traing camp he was none the wiser. You were able to hide your troubles from him, he would call in the evening which would he the time you got home. He was always so cheerful, face lit up with his stories about his day and games. Often you would have his teammates crash the call and hear the mayhem as he tried to wrestle the phone away from them.

Last night, Lev had stolen the phone and started complaining about being picked on. As much as you loved your boyfriend, Lev was a sweetheart and you had a huge soft spot for him. Kuroo had wrestled the phone away from him and you watched the fight ensue in the background. With so much going on, it was easy to divert the attention away from yourself, load all the focus on his team and their game today.

Glancing at the clock, you knew the team would be on their way back by now. It was the afternoon and school was still in full force, the homework from last week still on your desk and your phone full of messages from friends asking where you were. Soon you heard Kuroo's special ringtone light up your phone. He would always message you after a match and meet with you, walking you home at the end of the day while filling you in about the camp. You would pick up snacks on the way and the lounge around on the sofa watching movies together. But today? You just couldn't do it.

Kuroo was confused and worried. Not only had you not answered your phone but you weren't in your class. Your friends hadn't heard from you in a while and that wasn't like you. Dialling your number again, he waved goodbye to his teammates before making his way to your house. He was almost there, turning back at the last minute to grab your favourite flowers and food from your local shop.

Arriving at your house, he could see that the lights were off but your car was parked outside. Calling you again, he could hear your phone ring from inside the house but you made no attempt to answer it. Banging on the door, he waited and waited. Tension growing by the minute when you didn't appear.

"Kitten! I can hear your phone ringing. Answer the door."

You knew you should answer it, you phone had rang about twelve times and you had about twenty messages as well as four voicemails. Dragging yourself out of bed, you went to your window and peered out, seeing his dark hair as he bent over his phone. The image tugged at your heart, you could see his brows furrowed as he bounced on his toes. A sure sign that he was anxious and worried.

"Kitten. Open the door. I can see your shadow in the window."

You tensed as he said that, begrudgingly walking to the door and bracing yourself against it. Tears forming in your eyes as you thought about how you worried everyone, how much of a letdown you were and how unreliable.

"Baby." His voice was softer now, closer too. "Open the door. I'm worried about you. Lemme at least see you ok? If you wanna be alone afterwards, I'll leave."

Cracking the door open a few centimetres, you peered through and saw Kuroo's face. It instantly softened, you felt your eyes fill with tears as he reached across and ran his thumb under your eyes, most probably seeing the dark circles you had. Letting him push the door open further, you let him pull you into a hug. His arms wrapping securely around your body as you fell into him, his voice a low shushing in your ear and it was then that you realised you were crying. Tears tracking down your face and soaking his jersey as you stood.

"Kitten, I gotcha. I'll always be here for you. Shhh. Don't cry baby. You're breaking my heart here. Let's get you inside yeah? I bought some food and we can lounge around like always." He pulled away and a look of panic crossed his face. "If that's what you want. If not, I'll go. I don't wanna intrude or-"

"No, Tetsu. I'd love to have you here... but, I'm not in a great place. I don't wanna-"

"Baby listen, my heart is wherever you are. If you're hurting, I'm hurting too. We'll get through this together ok? Let's stay in bed, watch some movies and eat our body weight in junk. If you're feeling up to it tomorrow, we'll organise things yeah? School work. Homework. Whatever. I'm back now, you don't have to do this alone."

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

hello! i was wondering if you could write the following request; you are a member of the Brotherhood, the most dangerous assassins league of Middle Earth. To say that the Company of Thorin Oakenshield is both impressed and intimidated is an understatement.

The Company/Reader: Killer Good Looks pt.1

Trigger Warnings: Referenced assault and child abuse, murder

----

To say you're an excellent fighter would be a gross understatement.

You're the very definition of a rogue; you like shiny things, you're stealthy, cunning, persuasive, what are we missing...? Oh! And you're also an infamous deadly assassin for hire, and you get hired alright.

You're wanted (in more ways than one), for people are always looking for someone to fulfill their dirty deeds for them.

Almost everything is on the table with you; you'll steal things for people (and yourself), kill if the price is right, infiltrate and lie, and many other things, however, there are some things off limits.

For example, you won't kill kids. You never have and you never will, you flat out refuse; you also don't sell yourself to others for pleasure or other things of inappropriate nature; and, most importantly of all, you don't kill those whom you have a relationship with (meaning you don't kill friends, though those are few and far between).

When you were but a child your parents sold you off to put bread on their table, and you knew nothing but torment from that moment on.

For months the lady's husband would sneak into your rooms at night, and she would always pretend not to notice; she took to releasing her frustrations out on you under the false pretense that you were an issue, beating you, berating you, yelling, abusing; they were horrible people taking advantage of a 10 year old child in every way imaginable.

You felt no remorse when you finally gathered the courage to slit their throats one night, and to this day you still don't.

The news of your deeds spread quickly, for they proved to be quite shocking and a wonderful topic for conversation.

A mere child servant manages to kill their masters unseen and unheard, escaping into the night never to be seen again? That would catch anyones attention. And it certainly caught the attention of The Brotherhood.

They found you, took you in, and honed your sloppy skills to make you into the perfect, lethal weapon.

You've killed more people than you can count, stolen more than even the richest man has, and lied to everyone you've ever met at least once.

It's safe to say that you're not exactly a stand up citizen.

Your name, as well as the name of the organization who taught you all you know, is well known throughout Middle Earth which is why you were, ultimately, employed to assist and protect the line of Durin in their journey to reclaim Erebor...

Except, unbeknownst to them, you have ulterior orders from The Brotherhood regarding the operation.

Once the dragon is either confirmed dead or slain and the mountain is reclaimed, you are to kill the Durin's (and anyone else who stands in your way) and claim the mountain for The Brotherhood.

When you were first given this assignment you had no qualms with it.

Yes, dwarfs are strong, brave, and resilient, but you are fast, intelligent, and one of the best fighters in the organization because of your early start and ability to disconnect yourself from almost every situation. Also, you don't know them, any of them, and you've never had trouble killing royal, powerful people before.

It was supposed to be easy.

You joined the group in a cute little place called The Shire in a hobbit hole belonging to one Bilbo Baggins, and when you met everyone you figured that killing them would be easy, but as time went on you began to forget about your mission.

Everything started out simple. You didn't talk much and they stayed away from you for the most part; partially out of intimidation, but also from reservations on disturbing you.

You're a private person, and they'd hate to make you dislike them by being nosy or prying.

Gandalf is the only one who knows of your past, but even knowing who you truly are, he never for a second suspected what your true purpose was.

It's around the time you all leave Rivendell and return to the road when things start to change.

Thorin wanted to keep a schedule and reach the Misty Mountains before the end of the 4th week, and halfway into the 4th, you're already there are the entrance to the mountain pass.

Because the group makes such excellent time Thorin chooses to reward the group with a day and night full of rest to spend restocking supplies, regrouping, and relaxing, which is something that benefits you all greatly.

By this point, you've worked up enough 'trust' to actually sleep in short bursts around them, and you take full advantage of this day of rest to regain your strength.

At some point during the night you manage to fall asleep, and hen you wake you find that you managed to pass out for a good 4 hours.

The very first thing you notice is Dwalin sitting not far from you, and the blanket draped over your resting form.

To say you're taken off guard would be an understatement, for you never expected to be treated with such tenderness (or at least, tenderness by your definition considering the life you've lead).

"Dwalin...?" You call after a time of looking ahead, wanting to find out his motivations.

His gaze snaps over to you and a small, greeting smile falls upon his lips, "Good evening. It is mid-night, I'm sure you'd like to know."

You glance briefly up at the sky and observe the position of the moon and stars and find that he's correct, then your gaze returns to his face. "I see. What are you doing over here, though?"

The balding dwarf looks a tad more sheepish when you ask your question, and his voice contains slight embarrassment, "Well, we know you don't much like sleeping around us, or in general, so I thought that keeping watch here may help you feel even a bit safer."

Those words shock you to your very core.

"You'll always be safe with us, you should know. You protect us in waking, so the least we can do is return the favor in sleeping."

Any and all responses that come to your mind in this moment seem inadequate in comparison to his declaration, so you're left sitting there looking at him with a blank, yet dumbfounded stare.

"You needn't say anything in response. I just thought you should know." Another smile graces upon his lips, and then his attention turns back out towards the darkened tree line surrounding the mini camp in a half circle. "Sleep more if the desire is to suddenly strike you."

And, for some odd reason, you do.

---

For the first time in what has to be years, you sleep through the night and do not wake again until the sun beckons you to do so.

When the first light shines through the trees and makes the forest sparkle with morning magic, you arise and find that a new dwarf, Ori, has taken the place of Dwalin.

A feeling, one that you can't identify, rises within you, and you find yourself unable to handle it.

"Ori." You greet curtly, "I am going to depart for a time. Expect me back in 20 minutes."

The young dwarf looks up at you and nods shallowly, not even entertaining the thought that you would need an escort. "Alright. Get back safely."

His words linger with you after you leave, for the act of being cared for is alien to you.

When was the last time someone genuinely cared for your well-being and not just what they would lose if you were to perish? When was the last time someone thought of you as a person who could be harmed instead of a weapon that maybe tarnished every-so-often?

These thoughts plague your mind as you go to search the game traps you lay around the camp the morning before, and you find that the prize is well worth the early journey.

3 rabbits, 2 squirrels, and a wild hog around 2 feet long and a foot wide. The hog you caught along the way, actually. It had been sniffing around one of the game traps you sent (the trap wouldn't have been strong enough to hold it anyways), and you wasted no time in throwing a dagger straight into its' head.

You string up the rabbits into a line of rope and carry the hog over your shoulders (it's really heavy, so you made sure to evenly distribute the weight), and then you head straight for the group with your prizes in hand.

When you enter the clearing you're noticed immediately, for the game hanging from your body draw a lot of attention.

"Odin's beard!" Gloin exclaims, jumping up from his spot once his eyes fall upon you, "Look at all of that!"

All eyes are on you as soon as the red-haired dwarf alerts them to your presence, but you maintain a mask of nothing even despite your discomfort with being the center of attention.

"Where did you get all that?" Fili calls, getting up and approaching you to help carry the load.

You shrug off the line of rabbits and squirrels to him when he begins to tug on it and bring the hog to the middle of the camp, dropping it down heavily.

Bombur looks up at you with a grand smile and praises you in his low, baritone voice, "Well will you look at that! Now that's a hog."

You dip your head in acknowledgement of his compliments and offer right after, "Do you want me to skin them?"

"Oh, no, no! You have done more enough for us, we can manage that at the very least." The older dwarf assures you, patting the fat belly of the swine, "Thank you, lass. We haven't had a commendable meal in months, so this will be a real treat."

You received so many compliments and acclimations that you almost began to blush, but that's an unconscious ability that had left you a long time ago.

Everyone traveled with full bellies that afternoon, and there was plenty of leftovers to last everyone well into the next day as well.

Things like this are seldom the topic of talk or praise in the organization you work for, and you can never rely on anyone. You're all thieves, after all. Liars, tricksters, murderers... how could you trust someone like that to have your back? But... somehow, they trust you to protect them and their precious royal friends.

You: the liar, trickster, and murderer.

They sleep in your presence as if you hadn't stolen millions in treasure, product, and money; as if you hadn't killed a quarter of the people you've met in your lifetime. They trust you, the real you (or at least the realest version of you that there is), and it's a truly foreign feeling.

Of course, even though these good feelings long since lost to you have returned for a time, you keep yourself in check with the thoughts of what they would do to you if they found about your true intentions.

The images of their betrayed, angry faces, the disgust that would shine in their eyes when they realize what you're truly capable of... you're always sure to not lose sight of your end goal; the Mountain of Erebor and its' lost treasure. If you're to fail, you're certain that you'll be killed (either by the dwarfs or The Brotherhood), so you don't even entertain the thought of abandoning your mission.

---

Later in the day, during the trek up those horrible, treacherous mountains, you're approached by Bofur, the hat wearing dwarf with a smile more contagious than any sickness.

"Hello." You greet curtly when he falls into step beside you, eyeing him in your peripherals. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, no." He shakes his head no and reaches up to straighten his fur hat, "You just looked a little lonely, is all."

Lonely, huh?

You don't reply right away and look ahead with your usual blank expression and dull eyes, though you do feel an uncomfortable, appreciative feeling swell inside of you. "I am not lonely." You inform him matter-of-factly, though when you glance down at his face you see that your words have slightly hurt his feelings.

Your heart twists slightly painfully when you see his saddened countenance, and before you can even think about it you're blurting out, "But I welcome the company regardless."

His frown is immediately replaced with a brilliant smile and his eyes positively shine with enthusiasm; you never thought your acceptance would garner such a reaction from him (much less anyone for that matter).

The dwarf practically talks your ear off while the 15 of you travel up the Misty Mountains, telling you everything he possibly can about his homeland, family, and feelings regarding the journey (as well as other things), and while all this incessant blathering would normally irk you, you actually find that you quite like it.

Bofur's excited speech does eventually die down when it starts to rain, though, for he and yourself both think it safer to concentrate on the hike as its level of danger grows.

It isn't long before night falls, and once it does the rain becomes a much more dangerous obstacle.

There is lower visibility and the rocks become horribly slippery, though neither of these things could ever hope to top the giant stone beasts that begin to battle right in front of you all.

The stone giants don't seem notice any of you, and if they do then they simply don't care, and you all barely escape with your lives. They throw huge boulders bigger than any building you've ever seen, and their hand-to-hand combat leaves you all shaking against the mountainside, fearful of falling to your deaths as you sway every which way.

To your, and everyone else's luck and great joy, a little cave in the mountainside appears before you all (after a horrible death scare with half of the company), and it becomes your resting spot for the night.

You, like usual, choose a spot closest to the cave entrance with rock that covers both your back and left side and fall asleep effortlessly. You plan on only resting for four or so hours, hopefully until the rain passes, and then you can resume watch so the others may regain their strength (they're heavier and bigger than you, so they need more rest and food).

Those 4 hours (and an extra half!) pass by without issue and your internal clock eventually wakes you up.

One of the first things you see when your eyes flutter open is the stone ceiling of the cave hovering above you, and the next is Bofur who sits in the little watch spot right across from your sleeping area.

You sit up as soon as your sleep addled mind clears and your blurry eyes gain focus and call softly, "Bofur, go ahead and take a rest. I can resume your watch."

The dwarf jumps slightly when your soft voice breaks through the silence and reaches out to him, but he doesn't move to get up. Instead, a small smile upturns the corners of his lips and he whispers back, "No, you do a watch of your own every night and refuse to wake anyone else up often enough. Please, go back to sleep."

He noticed that?

You can't even keep the surprise from your face, for your eyes widen almost imperceptibly and your lips part slightly. "I..." You've been shocked speechless, something that you thought impossible.

"We have all noticed, in case you're wondering. Now, go ahead and resume sleep. I've still got another 30 minutes of watch."

And, for some reason, you don't protest.

Sleep calls to you and tugs at your eyelids, making them heavy and causing your eyes to burn. What spell have they put you under to make you tired again under a simple command, you wonder?

You fall back asleep despite yourself, but it doesn't last long, for within 20 minutes after Bilbo tries to leave and the storm begins to quiet, the floor opens beneath you all and swallows everyone whole.

[junova]

↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

word count: 3K+

warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.

[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3

also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.

ps. don’t forget to vote! <3

Stevie,

First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.

A good man.

The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.

Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.

More. More. More.

More. More. More.

It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.

I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?

For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.

Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.

A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.

But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.

With much love, your forever friend.

Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.

“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.

Your supposed, secret letter.

“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.

“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.

“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.

The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.

Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.

On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.

He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.

Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.

“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?

“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.

“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”

Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.

“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.

Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.

“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.

—

Emptiness.

It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.

From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.

Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.

Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.

Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.

You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.

His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.

You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.

Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.

Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.

You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.

Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.

You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.

Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.

The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”

“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.

“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.

“I think so.”

“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.

If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.

“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.

Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.

Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.

The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.

“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.

He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.

“Are you sure you’re o-”

Just like that.

Fuck.

Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.

He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.

No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.

What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.

Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.

The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.

Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.

You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.

Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.

“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.

“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.

Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.

“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.

You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.

“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.

“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”

You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.

“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.

“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.

The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.

“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.

“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”

“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.

“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.

You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.

“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.

Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.

“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before,  I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.

“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.

“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.

“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.

[thisisarcanereverie]

Should’ve Known Chapter 14

A/N:  FINAL TIME SKIP. Also we are reaching the point now where there are only maybe 3 chapters left in this series but res assured I will be doing asks and will be writing small side shots to this series. Because I did leave a bunch of detail to the imagination. Also PLEASE INTERACT IT GIVES ME LIFE. Like seriously hearing active feedback on chapters really helps motivate writers like me to write. 

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either.

WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out. 

WORDS : 3,113

SUMMARY: Months turn into years and now the twins are six years old. Unexpected visitors arrive and things take an unexpected turn. 

In case you missed last chapter

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ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

Sunlight danced through the crack in the sheer curtains in your shared bedroom and glinted off of the ring on your finger. 

Wanda couldn’t help but stare at you, appreciating every detail of your face, the way your nose twitches occasionally, the sound of soft breathing coming from you, and the rise and fall of your chest as you simply existed in this moment. She thanked every star she could that you existed. You changed her life for the better and she dreads to think of what life would have been like without you and the two beautiful children you gave birth to six years ago. 

You kept her grounded, you and the kids made her feel loved like she hadn’t felt since Pietro was taken from her. 

Wanda would be damned if she let anything take her family away from her again. 

Wanda still had her nightmares, the scars left behind from Vision and from Pietro, her parents, and Agatha were still there. But thanks to you those scars became simply that, scars. Scars that were faded but would forever remain there. 

However, as her old fears started to fade, new fears came to light. 

Some nights she dreams that Agatha had been right, that Wanda only brought chaos and death. She dreams that you and the kids died horrifically like everyone else she had ever loved. 

Other nights she dreams that she is the one who killed you. On those nights you spend hours combing your fingers through her hair and rubbing those familiar comforting circles on her back. Bringing her back to where she was now, that you and the kids were still alive. 

Then there were those special nights when her dreams were sweet and full of love. Sometimes she’s reliving a happy memory with her family before the bombing, sometimes she dreams of Vision and sometimes it’s with two boys that she doesn’t recognize but she knows she loves. However, if she’s really lucky, she dreams of you. Wanda dreams of sitting on the porch with you, sipping steaming tea with honey, grey and white in your hair, but your eyes are as youthful and as full of love as ever. Wanda dreams that her hair is peppered in grey and white as well, wrinkles of time written on her face, and that in the end she had never been what Agatha claimed she was. the Scarlet Witch, the Harbinger of Chaos, the Destroyer of the World. She dreams that all of that was just myth and that in the end all Wanda was, was Wanda Maximoff. 

Your wife. 

Wanda feels the corners of her lips curl upward as she remembers proposing to you. She did it at home, she hid it in the popcorn and you nearly choked on the damn thing. After spitting the ring out Wanda had the worst case of butterflies she ever felt. Wanda knew that marriage was an off subject for you and you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it and Wanda respected that greatly. However, she wanted to let you know that if you ever change your mind, Wanda would gladly marry you whenever you wanted, be it fifty years or an hour. So long as she got to be with you in the end. 

Wanda’s patience with you and the respect that she held for you and vice versa. You didn’t know you could fall even more in love with her. 

You and Wanda had been happily married for three years now and it was safe to say this was the happiest either of you had ever been. 

“Staring’s rude babe.” You muttered under your breath as your lashes fluttered before you fully opened your eyes. Taking in a brand new day in the same old world. 

“Stop being so beautiful in the morning then I’ll stop.” 

“Am I not beautiful any other time in the day?” You teased her. 

“No,” Wanda said before starting to litter your face in soft kisses. 

“You’re gorgeous in the afternoon,” Wanda whispered as she kissed your neck, nipping it slightly causing you to giggle. “You’re exquisite in the evening,” Wanda’s lips trails up your throat, her talented hands wandering as she did, “and you’re downright divine at midnight when the moonlight peaks through our curtains and bathes you in this silvery light.” Wanda’s lips are at the corner of your mouth now, your breathing now becoming hitched as Wanda’s lips are so far yet so close to your lips, “It’s at that time of day that I stare at you the longest.” Finally Wanda’s lips place a gentle but loving kiss on your lips. Her lips on yours never failed to make your heart flutter like it was the first time, fireworks and electricity running through you like wildfire. 

Just as you were about to deepen the kiss you heard the door to your shared room slam open, tearing your lips from Wanda’s to see two small figures rush and jump on your and Wanda’s bed. 

“Good Morning Mama and Mommy!” You heard the excited voices of your twins say. You and Wanda scooted aside to make room for the two already rambunctious twins in between you. 

Steve immediately went to cuddle by your side while Scarlet went to Wanda. Even when the twins were infants they had a preferred parent that they naturally drifted to. For Scarlet it had been Wanda and for Steve it was you. 

You looked at Wanda who looked at Scarlet like she was the world, in fairness she looked like that at Steve and you as well. And instead of scaring you, it felt nice. It warmed your heart to know that Wanda felt the same way, that the people in that room right there were your entire world.

Once the twins settled in between you, you and Wanda kissed the tops of their heads to which Steve giggled as you kissed raspberries on his cheeks.

“What’s on the agenda today little ones?” Wanda asked, Wanda often missed out on most of the day due to training with Strange. She’s gotten very proficient over the years at controlling her powers, Wanda’s learned more about herself and what she could do over the past six years and the more she learned the more frightened and amazed she was. 

“We’re going to go pick raspberries to make jam and pies!” Scarlet said excitedly. 

“Don’t forget,” You chimed in, booping your daughter's nose lightly with your index finger, causing her to giggle her bell like laughter, “that’s only after we finished our classwork today.” 

Steve let out a groan while Scarlet seemed to buzz with excitement. Scarlet loved learning, and Steve did too although not as much as his sister.

You had been homeschooling them, for fear of the worst. You knew that they were young and the likeliness of their powers showing themselves when they were really young were slim. However, you knew that their existence alone would cause a tsunami of reporters and agents ready to probe them. You knew there was a chance that their powers may never come, however until you were certain you and Wanda thought it best to homeschool them. 

It wasn’t bad, you took them to the park for them to play with kids their own age. After all, Nat did teach you the best way of hiding was in plain sight and acting naturally. 

---

You and the kids had just got done with school work for the day when you grabbed three baskets and headed to the raspberry bushes in the garden. Wanda had cast a spell on the bushes to make them grow raspberries anytime in the year. 

You laughed and watched lovingly as the kids ran around the yard playing tag. You counted your blessings that they got along with each other, maybe all the Sokovian whispers to your belly had done something after all. 

You gathered the three baskets of raspberries and brought them back inside. You washed the raspberries at the sink and occasionally checked outside the kitchen window to make sure that they were alright. 

After cleaning the raspberries you fixed them with a snack of apple slices and celery. You went on the porch to call them in when a vision of red, white and blue caught your eye. 

the Shield. 

It brings you back to Steve, his baby blues and his smiles and Tony’s funeral. 

You had heard what happened in New York with the Flagsmashers all those years ago and you would have gotten involved had you not been heavily pregnant at the time. 

You're brought back to the present when the Star Spangled Man with a Plan (now upgraded with wings) asks your twins where their mom was. 

“Sam...” You say, the tall man turned to you and it was then you see that he wasn’t alone. You don’t know how you could have missed the roaring of the motorcycle in the yard and the other tall man. “Bucky....”

The men walked toward you while the twins ran. 

“Mommy! Mommy! There are people here to see you.” They say at the same time, it wasn’t very often that you had company, much less unexpected company. 

“I see that,” You said evenly, keeping your face straight as the two men in front of you widened their eyes in realization. You tear your eyes away from them and to the two children in front of you and you knelt down to their height. “Why don’t you two go inside and play while Mommy talks to these gentlemen for a second.”

“Do you know who they are?” Lettie asked curiously, her eyes scanning the men. 

“Do we get to meet them?” Steve asked excitedly, looking amazed at Bucky’s metal arm. 

“I’ll let you know that in a second, but for right now go inside and play.” You said firmly, the twins waved goodbye to the men before heading inside. You waited until you heard the door close behind them to walk toward the men in front of you. 

“Boys,” You greeted motioning the porch chairs on the other side, “take a seat.”

Sam and Bucky listened and sat down. 

“Do you want a drink?” You asked, arms crossed. 

“Got anything strong?” Bucky asked. His eyes are not meeting yours. 

“It’s Scotland and I am a mom to twins,” You pointed out, “of course I do.” 

“I’ll take that then.” Bucky said, you looked at Sam who simply shook his head. You went in and grabbed the only bottle of Whiskey and a glass. 

By the time you gave Bucky the whiskey they seemed to have processed what they just saw. Sam looked at you with pity and concern, meanwhile Bucky looked off in the distance, anger radiated off of him in waves. 

“Are they Steve’s?” Sam asked. You simply nodded. 

“I only found out a month or so after the funeral,” You revealed, “I didn’t even know I was going to go through with the pregnancy until the events of Westview happened.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“The less people that know the safer they are,” You explained, “I wanted to tell you.”

“But you didn’t” Bucky chimed in, his voice was shaky and his grip on the glass tightened. 

“They’re the children of the former Captain America and Sargent Steel,” You said, “I have to keep the people who know about them tight and few.”

“Who all knows?” Sam asked. 

“Director Fury, Director Rambaue, Pepper, Strange, Wong-”

“Does your husband know?” Bucky interrupted. Sam looked confused before he noticed the subtle wedding ring on your left hand. 

“Holy shit you got married.” Sam said, astonished. 

“Yes I am,” You confirmed feeling slightly awkward since it only took you this long to realize that you never officially came out to them. 

“My wife knows.” You said vaguely, you see both of the men's eyes widen in shock. Sam recovered faster than Bucky who took another drink from his whiskey. 

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Sam asked.

“That would be me.” 

You all turn your heads to your wife, still clad in her Scarlet Witch form. If it wasn’t for the fact that you had company you know your lips would be all over her by now. 

She winks your way and you flush. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know exactly what you were thinking. 

“Hold up,” Sam said, “You married her?!” 

“Yup.” You confirmed as her form sat down next to you and grasped your hand. 

“How long has this been a thing?” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while. 

“Why do you need to know?” Wanda asked, her hand firmly holding yours. Bucky held his hands up in surrender before taking one last swig from his glass. 

“The bottom line is, only Wanda and the rest know, and I guess now you two do as well.” You said. There was a long pause of silence, before Sam spoke. 

“I won’t say anything.” Sam said finally, before nudging Bucky out of his staring spell. 

“Boys,” You call out as you see that they’re about to leave. 

“I truly am sorry you had to find out this way, but I was only doing what I thought would keep them safe, and now that you know you’re free to visit them anytime.... It would be good for them to finally meet their fathers old friends.” You said. You see Sam and Bucky nod, you reach out for a handshake only to be pulled into a firm hug by Sam. 

“I understand Sarg, you only did what you thought was best.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you returned the hug. Bucky still couldn’t look at you. 

You knew that you had broken his trust and you would work on getting it back. You just hoped that whatever grudges he had against you wouldn’t stop him from forming a bond with the kids. 

After Sam lets you go Bucky surprises you with a hug as well, his beefy arms encasing you firmly. 

“We’ll be visiting again soon.” Bucky promises as he lets you go and shakes goes to shake Wanda’s hand. 

“Wait,” You say as Bucky already is making his way to his motorcycle and Sam prepares for flight. 

“Yeah?” Sam replies. 

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” you said, “what brought you guys here?”

Sam paused for a second before replying. 

“I was just flying overhead, Bucky and I got word that there might’ve been an abandoned HYDRA base here but, turned out to be a faulty tip.” Sam said before saying his final goodbyes as he lifts off into the air and Bucky peels out of the driveway. 

“He was lying.” Wanda says, her eyes giving off a faint red glow. 

“I know.” You say, Sam’s pulse jumped when he spoke about the abandoned HYDRA base. You softly grab her hand and bring it to your lips, planting a small peck to the back of it. 

Wordlessly you walked hand in hand with Wanda through the front doors and continued with the regular evening schedule. 

You and Wanda made dinner as the kids helped set the table and talked about the day. The kids asked questions about who the men were and you and Wanda answered as best as you could without giving them the full truth. Which was surprisingly more difficult. Eventually dinner ended and while Wanda got the kids ready for bed it was your turn for dishes. After dishes were washed and rinsed you let them air dry in the rack and went to tuck in the twins with Wanda. 

Wanda and you kissed their heads goodnight and then proceeded to the couch.

Just as you made your way to the couch you noticed Wanda standing still. 

“Wands, what's wrong?” You asked, reaching out to her. 

“Nothing it’s just,” Wanda started as she played with her hands, “I have a bad feeling, like something is about to happen.”

“Come sit on the couch and talk me through it.” You say as you lead her to the well loved couch. You and Wanda sit and immediately fall into the position you always do, her leaning into you and your arm swung around her shoulders. Wanda had long since transformed out of her Scarlet Witch form but she still looked magical to you. Her fiery locks cascading down her dainty shoulders and just a hint of sparkle on her cheeks remained. You felt Wanda give a deep sigh before speaking. 

“I don’t know what it is, it’s not anything deadly but it fills me with dread just the same.” Wanda said with her green hues giving off a faraway look, “something is about to happen and I don’t know what it is.” 

“Whatever happens,” you say, maneuvering her so that way she faces you, “we’ll face it like we’ve done most things. Together.” You press your forehead to hers and let your eyelids flutter shut and Wanda follows suit. 

“Together.” Wanda whispers back as she finally closes the gap between you in a promise like kiss. 

---

---

---

“Buck don’t do this,” Sam tried to stop the centurion. Over the course of six years the two men had grown close and eventually Sam had earned the privilege of calling the taller man Buck. 

“He has the right to know.” Bucky responded, icy eyes focused solely on the communicator that their mutual friend gave them for ‘universe level threat emergencies only’ 

“We promised her we wouldn’t tell anyone Buck.” 

“No,” the Brooklyn man gruffed, “you promised her you wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t promise shit. So don’t worry your pretty little head about breaking your promises.” 

“First off thank you for finally admitting that I’m pretty,” Sam said before attempting to snatch the communicator and failing. “Second off, we should’ve told her the truth from the start. Instead of leaving puzzle pieces to put together.” 

“She had plenty of puzzle pieces. It's not our fault she didn’t put them together.” Bucky said not looking the man in the eye, “He left her a message on the phone and a message in the personal notebook. It’s not ou-” 

“If you’re going to say not our fault again I’m going to slap you.” Sam interrupted. “You know damn well that (Y/n) was as strong as steel, but Nat and Tony’s deaths wore her down, but HE was the breaking point. HE fucked up man, HE has to live with that and THAT’S NOT our job to help him make up for that.” 

Just when Bucky starts to reconsider, the communicator beeped. 

MESSAGE SENT - - - MESSAGE RECEIVED  - - - MESSAGE INBOX (1) 

- ON MY WAY_CSGR